We flop onto opposite ends of the couch, and for just a moment, I feel a camaraderie with him. He’s 90 percent jerk and makes terrible decisions, but he’s also the only other person on earth who knows what it feels like to love Pops the way I do.

“Jess,” he says, playing with some of the white strings hanging off the knee of his jeans, “just tell him.”

“Tell him what?” I’m still thinking of Pops so I don’t understand what Jack is saying at first.

“Your guy. Mr. Baseball Bat. The one you’re cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs over. Tell him it was me.”

I blink. Jack blinks. The world blinks. I blink again.

Jack throws his hands in the air. “Don’t give me that look!”

“Have you lost your marbles? I can’t tell him what you did. If you lose your job—”

“There’s something else I have to tell you.”

“What?” Dread trickles down my spine.

“I’ve been talking to Sherry.”

“Who is Sh—you’ve been talking to Mom?”

He winces and goes a little pale. That’s been happening a lot for him tonight. “Yeah. I found her about a year ago.”

“How?”

He grimaces. “Facebook.”

I blink. He blinks. This time we laugh. “Wow.”

“I know. We’ve been talking a little bit. That’s . . . that’s what was going on the other night when you came over and I was such a dick. I’d just gotten off the phone with her. She’s been helping me a lot, actually. I kind of hit rock-bottom a couple months ago . . . as you obviously know. And she’s been there for me. But sometimes it’s still hard to talk to her. Sometimes it still catches up to me. What she did. Leaving us. It’s been a lot.”

“Wow.”

“I know. So . . .” He’s playing with the jean strings again. “Any chance you knew that she and Pops are still technically married?”

Thirty seconds later the static fuzz is starting to clear from my vision, and I can see Jack leaning toward me, snapping his fingers.

“Earth to Jess. Are you astro-planing or whatever they call that?”

“I . . . what did you just say to me?”

“Sherry and Pops are still married. And she’s kind of rich now, I guess. She’s a real estate agent upstate. She said that if Pops needed it she’d get him on her insurance.”

“Insurance. Upstate. Married.”

“Yeah. So, anyway. Tell your boyfriend who I am. I’m . . . really betting the farm on the fact that he won’t want to press charges against me, because he’s gaga for you. But . . . if he does, I’ll get a lawyer. And if I lose my job, we’ll call Sherry, and hopefully Pops won’t be up the river.”

“What are the words that you’re saying? Literally none of this makes sense.”