Kay didn't tell me what he talked about with my mother. Nor did he tell me how he managed to scare her away when she'd been so willing to follow me across state lines.
In all fairness, I didn't ask. Instead I allowed him to lead the conversation. In the middle of attempting to explain terminology used to describe different shades of white paint he paused and grabbed my shoulder. He twisted the shirt material and frowned.
"Why are you wearing this?"
My mouth fell open and I looked down at the faded logo. My mind whirred, trying to catch up.
"Jacob gave it to me," I answered softly. Kay's frown deepened so I added, "I mean- He didn't give it to me, I'm just borrowing it."
Kay seemed unhappy with my answer. He let go of my shirt and began walking again, this time fast enough that I had to half run to keep up.
