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Chapter 18
Jaxson pulledup to the closed gate of his parent’s spacious estate located not far from Mount Vernon, Virginia. He pressed the button on the security stand to announce his arrival and looked into the camera trained on him. Within seconds the wrought-iron gate started to open.
They'd been expecting him.
The historical mansion was set back from the private road. A winding driveway led the way to the two-story colonial. Summer flowers were in bloom everywhere he looked giving the manicured grounds the air of a royal property. He had to hand it to Juan, his parent's long time gardener. He sure had a talent for landscaping.
He pulled his Audi into a parking spot to the right of the main house. He had just stepped out of the car when his mom came hustling down the front steps, a mega-watt smile on her face.
A pang of guilt hit Jaxson. His father may not deserve his love or loyalty, but his mom had done her best to shield her only son from the political fallout that came with having a public figure for a father.
"Jaxson!" She flew into his arms, hugging him with the unbound love of a mother. It was in that moment he pledged to do a better job of staying in touch with the woman in his arms.
He chuckled as she squeezed him harder. "I missed you too, Mom."
The attractive woman in her fifties leaned back to take a good look at her son. Jax took the opportunity to do the same and he didn't like what he found.
Despite her many surgeries meant to lock in her youthful beauty, she was showing signs of her age in a way he'd never noticed before.
"You look more handsome than ever." His mom moved her right palm up to cup his scruff-covered face. A genuine smile lit up her face. "You look more relaxed. Happy even."
"You say that like I've never been happy."
She got serious. "Have you been? I mean really happy?"
Her question took him by surprise. They normally followed an unspoken agreement not to ask any questions that might lead to a disagreement. It took him a second to formulate a truthful response. "I wasn't unhappy."
A sad smile played at her lips. "Spoken like your father's son. The apple didn't fall far from the tree."
They so rarely talked about the wedge between them—his father. He wasn't sure he wanted to go there now either, but she was right about one thing.
He was happy. Really happy. Maybe for the first time in his adult life. Being in love changed everything. Apparently even his relationship with his mother.
He asked her his own version of personal question. "Why do you stay, mom?"
Emotions flitted across her face until her politician's wife mask was firmly affixed. He knew before she spoke he'd pushed too hard too fast.
"Don't ask silly questions. I love your father."
They both knew that was a lie, but like the past, he let it go. He'd tried many times to get her to leave. He may never know the real reason she stayed, but he knew he would not be the one to change her mind.
His mom linked her arm through his and pulled him towards the house. "Come inside. Cook prepared all of your favorites for you. I'd kinda hoped you'd bring that new girlfriend of yours. I'm guessing she's what's making you happy."
He should have known the local news in Madison might leak national. "She is making me happy, but it's complicated."
"Isn't everything in life?"
They'd made it to the front door. A gust of cool air hit them as a butler Jaxson had never seen before opened the door for them. It was over eighty degrees outside so the A/C felt great.
"Welcome home, Mr. Davidson."
"Thanks, but this isn't home. I'm just visiting."
He didn't miss the pained look on his mother's face before her mask returned. He supposed he could have let the comment slide to make her happy, but he didn't want there to be any misunderstanding. He would never live under the same roof as his father again. And this building would never be home.
His parents had moved there when he'd left for college so it had never felt like home. Instead, he always felt like he was on a tour of a museum when he visited. That or the stage of a movie set.
Everything was immaculate. Tasteful artwork adorned every nook and cranny, most chosen not for sentimental value or even because of his parent's tastes, but to maximize their illusion of wealth and power. There were no personal knick-knacks from vacations past. No family photos from the beach or school field trips. The only photos of their son were framed magazine covers meant to impress.
