Broken (Book 1, The Watcher Chronicles, Paranormal Romance) (18 page)

If only
hoping had worked….

After my shower, I invest a good fifteen minutes in making myself presentable.
  I’ve never been one to put on a lot of make-up.  I figure if it takes you more than 10 minutes to apply it, you’ve probably got more problems than make-up can fix.  I blow my hair dry and pull it back into a simple ponytail at the nape of my neck for ease.

I dress in a pair of comfortable jeans and a red sweater
with sparkly silver filament interwoven into the thread.  Since it is Christmas Eve, I know Mama Lynn will make me and Faison go out on our annual cookie delivery and caroling visits so I strive to at least look a little festive.  I find a red, white and pink striped sweater scarf to complete the ensemble.

I hear the door bell ring
just as I slip on my favorite black suede Uggs and stand to answer the door.  When I reach the foyer, I soon find I’m already too late to be the first one to the door.

Mason st
ands in the foyer with the door open wide holding a spatula in one hand and shaking my neighbor George’s hand with the other. 

“Glad to meet any friend of Jess’s,” George tells Mason.  George is dressed casually today in a red and green plaid flannel shirt, jeans and black tennis shoes.  Being that it’s Christmas Eve, his work as the mall Santa is complete since everyone knows Santa should be back at the North pole preparing for his nightly flight around the world.

“Mason Collier,” Mason introduces himself.

“George
Grady.”

“Hey George,” I say coming to stand by Mason at the door.

I see a Tupperware bowl in George’s hands and instantly know what he’s brought me.

“Is that what I think it is?” I ask, my stomach suddenly jumping up and down in anticipation.

George hands me the bowl.  “Shrimp grits,” he confirms.  “Lynn told me you were home all night sick.  Thought you might like something to eat this morning.  You’re looking good for someone who was running a fever last night,” he comments with a smile.  “Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time in fact.  Has something happened?”

I involuntarily glance in Mason’s direction before taking the bowl out of George’s hands.

“No,” I say, “nothing too unusual.”  Even I can hear I’m holding something back.

George looks between
Mason and me without saying a word but I see a knowing glint appear in his eyes.

“Well, I’ll let the two of you have your breakfast,” George says, before holding out his hand to Mason
again.  “Good to meet you, son.  I hope to see you around more often.  You seem to have a good effect on our Jess.”

I instantly feel my cheeks begin to burn.  I chance a look in Mason’s direction and see that he
just looks confused by what George has said to him.

“It was
a pleasure to meet you too,” Mason replies, choosing not to comment on George’s last statement which only makes me want to go back to bed and bury my head in my pillow again to avoid anymore embarrassment.

“See you tonight
, Jess.  You know Lynn’ll make us all go caroling later.”

“Ok, George, see you then.  And thanks for the food.”

George smiles.  “Anytime.”

As Mason closes the door, I turn back towards the kitchen to
give my cheeks an opportunity to cool down.  When I get there, I see that Mason has been busy and pretty much plundered what little food I had stored in my refrigerator.   Sitting on a plate is a beautifully fluffy omelet with bits of ham, cheese, and green onion.  I see bacon still sizzling in a pan on the stove and watch as Mason walks over to take the three strips out and blot the excess grease off them with paper towels.  He sets them on the plate with the omelet and grabs a glass filled with what looks like freshly squeezed orange juice.

“Sit,” he directs, nodding his head to the breakfast table in the room.

I do as instructed without complaint and let Mason serve me the breakfast he worked so hard on.

“I don’t remember having oranges,” I say as he slide
s the glass of orange juice in front of me.

“You didn’t.  I went over
to my son’s house and borrowed some from their fridge.”

“Where does your son live?” I ask, taking a sip of the juice.

“Near London.  He and Angela live with Allan there.”

“Why do they live with him?  I would have thought they would have a home of their own.”

Mason sighs.  “It’s an old story.  Allan has trouble relating to the outside world as you might have guessed when you first met him.”

“You mean him staying in the glass room when I first arrived?”

“Allan has a compulsive disorder.   He’s deathly afraid of germs.  You might not know it from looking at him but he’s gotten a lot better than he used to be.  Lilly’s helped him overcome a lot of his phobias but he’s been that way for so long I fear it will take years more for him to ever be completely normal again.”

“After he ran all those tests on my blood, he didn’t try to hide away from me when I saw him again.  He actually did come out of his glass room.”

“He knew you weren’t a threat anymore.  Those tests were for his peace of mind as well as gaining more information about you.”

“It must be terrible living like that, afraid to touch anything or anyone.”

“It’s one reason Jonathan and Angela live with him.  It seems to help him gain more control over his problem since he has to deal with their kids too.  And you know how messy kids can be.”

“It seems like that would be a nightmare for him.”

“You would think but he seems to enjoy having them around.  Plus, Angela was his caretaker for so long I’m not sure she really wants to be away from him anyway.  They all seem to get along.  So the arrangement works for them.”

Mason walks back to the kitchen area and opens a drawer.  He’s soon back with a fork for me to eat with.

“So, you go caroling with your mother, Faison and George every Christmas Eve?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

Mason grins.  “Why unfortunately?”

“Faison is one of those people who think they can sing when they really can’t.  She gets quite loud which only
compounds the effect her voice has on others.”

Mason chuckles.  “Have you ever thought about telling her the truth?”

“Oh God no,” I say shaking my head.  “She gets really touchy on the subject.  We just let her keep thinking she’s the best singer in the world.  It’s easier than trying to reason with her.  Plus, it’s one of my guilty pleasures because her singing always makes me smile, and cringe, but mostly smile.  I know it’s probably wrong not to say something to her so she doesn’t keep embarrassing herself, especially when we go out to karaoke, but I just can’t bring myself to tell her.  It would completely break her heart.”

“Karaoke?  Do you get up and sing?”

“Only when Faison forces me to,” I laugh.  “I’m not much of a singer either.”

Mason looks down at my plate.  “You should probably eat that before it gets too cold.”

I do as he advises and he walks out of the room.  A minute later he reappears, shrugging back into his suit jacket.

“I should leave now,” he tells me.  “I usually spend Christmas Eve and Christmas with Jonathan and Angela.  Plus
, we’re all supposed to go to Lilly and Brand’s tonight.”

I swallow the bit of egg in my mouth and ask, “So what do
you want me to do with the crown?”

“Just keep it for now.  It’s safer
with you than anyone else.  Maybe one of us will receive divine inspiration on what we’re supposed to do with it next.”

I fe
el a need to think of something, anything, to make Mason stay a little while longer but my mind is a complete blank.

“We normally take off work for Christmas,” he tells me.  “So I won’t be back to pick you up for work until next Monday, unless something important comes up between now and then.”

I feel an unfamiliar ache inside my chest as I realize I won’t be seeing Mason again for almost another three days.

“Well
, let me know if anything happens,” I say.  “Anything at all.  Don’t hesitate to call.  I’ll have my phone with me all the time.”

I force myself to stop talking.  The more I talk the more I sound like a teenage girl trying to give a boy she’s interested in
non-subtle hints she wants him to call her.

Mason narrows his eyes on me like he’s trying to figure something
out about me.

“I’ll call if anything pops up,” he promises.  “Otherwise
, just try to enjoy your time with your family.  I left the bottle of medicine by your bed just in case.  If you start to feel bad again let me know.”  A roguish grins appears on his face.  “I don’t mind playing doctor.”

I smile.  “Thanks for that by the way.  I’m sure I wouldn’t be feeling this good if you hadn’t.”

“Glad I could help.”

We stare at each other for a little while
; me not wanting him to go so soon and him not seeming in a hurry to phase over to his son’s home.

“I better get going,” he finally says.  “Jonathan will start to wonder where I am.”

“Ok.”

He hes
itates, and my body aches to reach out and find a way to make him stay a little while longer.

“Merry Christmas,” he says.

“Merry Christmas,” I say.

And he phases away, leaving me alone in a ho
use that seems silent and empty now without him in it.

I quickly eat my breakfast not wanting to stay inside my empty home any longer than I have to.  After I wash the dirty dishes, I head over to Mama Lynn’s.  I see Faison and John Austin making out in his truck parked in front of Mama Lynn’s house and rap down the side of his charcoal grey Dodge Ram with my fist.  I see them both jump apart which makes me laugh.

John Austin
steps out of the truck and rushes me like a linebacker, picking me up in the air and twirling me around.

“Merry Christmas almost sister-in-law!”

“John Austin, put me down!”  I say as authoritatively as I can through my laughter.

John Austin does as requested but plants a peck on my cheek before letting me go. 
His tousled brown hair and happy brown eyes tell me he and Faison have been out here for a while necking in his truck.  If anyone was like a brother to me it was John Austin.  He and Faison had been joined at the hip since we were all seven years old so it was either learn to like him or forever feel like a third wheel when you were around the two of them.  I had picked on Faison for saying she knew John Austin was the one for her when she first saw him in second grade but part of that was due to jealousy.  She was right.  He
was
the one for her and to have found him at such an early age was a small miracle.  I knew within our circle of friends their marriage would stand the test of time no matter what happened.  Plus, he knew if he ever hurt her I’d shoot him and bury his body where no one would ever think to look for it.  I was a highly trained Watcher agent after all.

“
Be here at seven tonight,” I tell him.  “You know Mama Lynn likes to go caroling no later than that.”

Faison comes around the truck and is quickly enveloped by John Austin
’s loving embrace.

“I wouldn’t miss my baby’s singing for anything,” he says
, winking at me before nibbling the side of Faison’s neck, making her giggle.

I just smile because John Austin and I made a pact long ago to never openly
discuss Faison’s lack of singing skill to one another in front of her or behind her back.  Though we did allow ourselves to give each other meaningful glances on the subject every once in a while.

I lean forward and grab one of Faison’s hands.  “Come on, we gotta go deliver those cookies to people.”

Faison quickly gives John Austin one more lingering kiss on the lips before allowing me to drag her into Mama Lynn’s house.

“Mason came to my house last night,” I tell her as we make our way up the sidewalk.  “I thought you were going to call to let him know I was sick?”

“Oh I’m sorry.  I completely forgot to do that.”  Faison’s tone tells me she’s anything but sorry.  “So, what happened?”

I tell her.

“Oh my God, he stayed the night?  Yep, he likes you.”

I shake my head.  “I had him trapped
.  He didn’t have much choice about staying.”

“You weigh about a hundred and twenty pounds Jess.  If
Mason had wanted to leave, he could have.  Stop trying to rationalize things.  Now we know for sure he likes you.  The only question is do you like him?”

I didn’t answer Faison.  I was pretty sure the grin on my face said it all.

It ends up taking most of the day to deliver all the tins of cookies we have.  It wasn’t a matter of how many cookies we had to deliver as much as it was the time we spent visiting with each of our friends in the neighborhood.  In the South, if you didn’t come in and sit for at least a cup of coffee or something sweet to eat, you were considered rude.  Many of the people in our community are old and don’t have much family left to visit with them during the holidays.  Making sure those people feel like they are still important to us is the best gift we can give them.