Authors: Debi V. Smith
He stops with his mouth hovering over mine. “Thank you for today.” His arms snake around me, engulfing me in his comforting scent.
“I would do anything for you. Just like you’ve done for me. I owe it to you.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I do,” I insist, breaking away. “You carried me away from the house of horrors.”
“I would’ve done it sooner if I had known.”
I press my hands flat on his chest. “I know. But you did it when it mattered most.”
The adults are seated at the picnic table, talking animatedly, and Mike is smiling, leaning in to eat a small bite. We join Arissa and Damian in the grass near the pond.
“Everyone seems to be getting along,” I comment.
“Yeah, I didn’t think there was anyone sweeter than Rose until today, J,” Damian states.
“No hitting on my dad, man,” Jason quips.
“But he’s
so
cute!”
We roar with laughter.
Jason puts Mike to bed while everyone prepares to leave. Promises are made to do this weekly and everyone agrees to bring a dish, lessening the work for Alana.
I take care of the dishes while Alana puts the food away. Jason joins us as I load the last dish in the dishwasher.
“Dad’s asking for you, Parker,” he says.
“Me?”
“You’re the only Parker here.”
Alana gives him good-natured smack on the shoulder.
“Ow!” He grabs his shoulder, grinning.
She smiles and shakes her head.
Jason leads me through the long hallway to the room at the end. Mike is propped up under solid brown covers in a king size bed. His faces brightens with a wide smile and he pats the space next to him on the bed.
“I’m going to clean the grill,” Jason tells me as I sit next to his dad.
Mike squeezes my hand with both of his. “Thank you, Sara. This is the most fun I’ve had since the cancer returned. I hope to see more of you.”
“You will.” I smile, knowing Jason will make sure of it.
“You know, Jason’s like a lovesick puppy when he’s here without you.”
“Seriously?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
He nods his head and laughs. “It’s true.”
“I had no idea.”
“Now you do.” He pats my hand. “Thank you again. I hate to shoo you away, but I’m exhausted after all that fun.”
“Not at all, Mike. Goodnight.” I kiss him on the cheek.
He grins as I stand, covering his cheek with his hand. “I’ll never wash it again.”
I chuckle. “You two are so much alike.”
I join Jason outside. “I like your dad.”
“He ate the most I’ve seen him eat in a while. We might need to have people over more often if it stokes his appetite.”
“The adults talked about doing this weekly,” I state.
I tip my head towards the yard and he closes the grill. We sit in the grass, legs bent, hips touching, and facing each other. I lean back on my hands while he wrap his arms around his legs.
“I finally get it,” I say. “I get why you waited so long for me.”
His breath hitches. He reaches over and plants his hand in grass next to me.
“The Jerichos taught me how loving families interact. Today, you and your parents showed me something deeper. You understand how fleeting life is and you truly cherish one another.
“It’s why you’re so patient and supportive. Why you held on when I pushed you away. Why you kiss me and hold my hand every chance you get.”
His fingers stroke my cheek.
“We grew up fast under different circumstances,” I say. “I belong with you. I know that now.”
His fingers snake through my hair. “I told you it was always you.”
“You did, but my father taught me to believe I wasn’t worthy of love. I lived in fear, never knowing when the next beating would come. I don’t live in fear anymore, J. Part of the reason for that is you.”
He draws me into his embrace. “I would do anything for you, Parker.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
I peek through the living room curtains with Arissa, Jason, and Damian.
A small group of reporters and cameramen mill around on the sidewalk, waiting for someone, anyone, to leave the house.
“Don’t they have anything better to do?” Arissa asks, pursing her lips.
“It’s their job, babe,” Damian answers.
“I can’t believe they got here so early,” I say. “No way we can sneak out without being mobbed.”
“This is insane,” Jason mutters, his arms akimbo.
“Our cars are in the driveway,” Damian states, “and they’re watching the front door. What if we went out the back, around the side, and made a run for it?”
“We’ll have to take one car,” Jason says, glancing at Damian. “I won’t be able to get in my car with Arissa getting in yours at the same time.”
“Which car do we take?” Damian asks.
“Mine. It’s closer. The girls first and us right behind so they can get to the doors easier.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Guys,” I interject, “it won’t work. They’re closer to the cars. They’ll be on us before we can open the doors.”
“How do they even know where you live?” Arissa asks.
“Notice how no one is in front of my parents’ house?”
“Oh,” they say in unison.
“I bet it was my mother.” I move away from the window. “So, do we stay in or get mobbed?”
“What do you want to do?” Jason asks me.
“No, I warned you guys this could happen and you all said you were in. You have to decide. Do you want to avoid the reporters more than you want to go out?”
The three of them regard each other expectantly.
“If your dad was here, he could hold them back,” Damian says to Arissa.
“Yeah, but he’s at work,” she states.
“It’s Friday. The trial starts Monday. We have the weekend to go out if we want,” Jason suggests.
“We have the cookout at your house tomorrow,” I remind him.
“I want to go out,” Arissa whines.
Damian shrugs at Jason. “You two don’t have to go with us.”
“No,” Jason says. “We should go. We can’t help that they got here right after we did.”
“Okay. Then we’re back to how do we leave?”
Jason ponders a minute, left arm across his chest and his right index finger curled around his lips. He glances between me and Arissa.
“They really want you,” he says, pointing to me. “If we hid both of you under a blanket or a jacket, they wouldn’t know which one you are.”
“How are we going to keep from breaking our necks if we’re under cover?” I ask.
“We’ll walk you two out and get you in the car. Or we could carry you two.”
“Which would be faster?” Arissa asks.
“Carrying.”
“Okay. Let me get some blankets.” She heads up to the linen closet.
“You sure you want to do this?” Jason asks me.
“I’m not letting other people run my life anymore, J. Andrew and Rose get to draw the boundary lines because they’re my guardians. But no one else.”
He grins.
“What?”
“You’re more assertive. I like it.”
I smirk. “Must be all that therapy.”
“Or just tired of taking crap for so long.”
“Definitely that.”
Arissa returns with two beige throw blankets cradled to her chest and Rose in tow. “I figured Mom could at least close the door behind us if you two are carrying us.”
“Good idea, babe.” Damian grins. “We’ll take my car. If we’re going out the front door, it’s closer.”
He and Jason each take a blanket from her.
“You guys be careful,” Rose says.
“Don’t worry, Rose. We will be,” Jason states, pecking her on the cheek as we gather around the door. “Is the car locked?” he asks Damian.
“No. I left it unlocked, thinking we weren’t going to be here this long.”
Jason looks to me. “Ready?”
I nod. He shakes out the blanket and then laughs once I’m covered.
“What?”
‘You two look like ghosts that were rolling around in dirt,” Damian laughs.
“Ha ha.”
Jason takes my arms and places them around his neck like he does with Mike. “Hold on, Parker.”
I clasp my hands together and one of his arms slips around my back while the other sweeps me up behind my knees. The door cracks as it separates from the doorjamb and Jason bursts forward like he just got the ball on a fast break. A flurry of muffled rapid questioning is garbled through the blanket. Jason sets me down and guides me into the backseat. Jason and Damian remain quiet and refuse to respond to the reporters. The car rocks side to side as Damian and Jason climb in and slam their doors.
“Keep the blankets on until I tell you to,” Jason tells us.
“Yeah, I kinda figured we should wait,” Arissa retorts with a sharp edge of sarcasm in her voice.
Damian starts up the car. “At least they didn’t completely rush us. It could’ve been worse.” He reverses and because I can’t see the curb, the bump going from driveway to street feels bigger.
After a few minutes, Jason says, “You can take the blankets off now.”
The theater is dim while commercials and trivia questions play on the screen. Arissa and Damian make out on my right. Jason sits on my left with the armrest between us pushed up. The soda we’re sharing is snug in his cup holder and our popcorn is in the empty seat next to him. His fingers draw slow circles on my back.
I like the comfort. I like the safety. I know Arissa is right. There’s no one better for me.
No one.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Jason picks me up the next morning and takes me to his house.
“Sara,” Alana greets, coming out of the kitchen with her arms wide open.
I meet her embrace. “Hi, Alana. Do you need any help?”
“Oh, no, honey. Enjoy yourselves for a while. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for some extra hands.”
“Okay. Is Mike awake?”
“He fell asleep after breakfast. Must be storing up energy for later. Would you two like some lemonade?”
“Sure, Mom.”
He gestures to the living room. An assortment of board games covers the coffee table.
“What? No video games?” I jest.
“We can play video games later.”
We sit on the floor on opposite sides of the table. Alana quietly brings us our lemonades and we thank her before she returns to the kitchen.
“So, what will it be? Monopoly? Scrabble? Trivial Pursuit? Pictionary?” he asks.
“Scrabble.”
We’re tied at two games each when Alana comes in. “Time to get everything ready, kids.”
“Okay, Mom. I’ll start the grill.”
We put the game away and he heads outside. I join Alana, who is mixing a pasta salad, in the kitchen.
“What would like me to do?” I ask.
“How about chopping the veggies for the salad? Everything is there on the counter.” She points to the pile of vegetables from her garden, already washed, next to the large, wooden cutting board.
I tear the lettuce into the big serving bowl.
“Are you ready for Monday?” Alana asks, keeping her eyes on the pasta salad.
“As ready as I can be.” I grab a knife and a cucumber.
“Mike wants to go.”
I twist at my waist to face her. “The stress won’t be good for him.”
“I know, but once he gets an idea in his head, that’s it.”
“I’ll talk to him later. Maybe I can change his mind.”
She snorts. “Not likely. Haven’t you noticed how stubborn Jason is?”
“Yeah.”
“He gets that from his dad.”
“Figures.” We laugh together and I resume chopping.
“What can I help with, Mom?” Jason joins us, hugging me from behind.
I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.
“You can get out the plates, silverware, and cloth napkins for the table. Then the glasses for the counter where the drinks will go.”
“Got it,” he says, bustling around us. “So, what kind of girl talk are my favorite ladies engaging in?”
“Your dad wanting to go to the trial on Monday,” I say.
“Ah. The touchy subject of the house. We’ve tried to talk him out of it. He insists.”
“Just like you,” Alana pipes up.
“Mom, stop giving away all my secrets,” he says jokingly.
“It’s not a secret if I already know,” I point out.
He raises his brows. My heart skips a beat and I sigh in fake exasperation.
“What’s next, Mom?”
“Get out the ice bucket and fill it up.”
“Salad is done, Alana,” I inform her.
“Thanks, honey. Would you slice up that baguette, please?”
I clean off the cutting board and grab the bread knife. Halfway through cutting the loaf, a shock of freezing cold and wet slides down my back.
“AH!” I scream, jumping, trying to grab the frosty object. The ice cube falls to the floor and Jason grips his knees, doubled over in laughter hard enough to shake his body. “Jason Nicholas Waters!” I drop the knife on the cutting board and punch him as hard as I can on his arm.
“Ow!” He massages his arm where I hit him. “That hurt.”
“That’ll teach you.”
Alana snickers behind me.
“I had to lighten the mood. You two were being so serious.” He tugs me into his embrace and plants a swift kiss on my nose.
“Payback’s a bitch, you know,” I warn.
“Bring it on, Parker.” He cocks the left side of his mouth into a half grin.
I love that half-cocked grin. Sometimes I think he does it just for me.
“I’ll bring it when you least expect it.” I return to slicing the bread.
“Honey,” Alana says, “you’ve met your match.”
“Why do you think I chased her all those years, Mom?”
I smile to myself.
We play charades outside after eating. Adults versus kids with screaming and uproarious laughter. Mike smiles bright with color in his cheeks, and although his movements are slow, he’s sharp as a whip, shouting guesses faster than any of us.
I’ve come to love him and Alana as much as I love Andrew and Rose. I know he wants to be in court with us, but I don’t want to be the cause of his undoing.