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Juliette is so young. She’ll be twenty in September. They’ve only been married for a year and a sneeze. She’s just barely finished her first year of college. Getting married is one thing, but a baby… Children are permanent. Whether or not Juliette and Shane’s marriage will endure—Even using that word with her, marriage, slaps a grimace onto my face. Juliette is a vibrant, restless explorer, not a housewife.
I shove the phone into a cup holder and drive again. Either way, Shane will always be a part of her life through the sheer existence of a child. I have told, reminded, and convinced myself that he has taken Juliette from me. Done deal. Get over it. But now… Now I’ll attend kid birthday parties with a bulletproof smile.
Or I’ll sever all ties with Shane, Juliette, and the Davenports.
The idea of having to endure Shane’s hulking figure for the rest of my life makes me want to punch something, repeatedly, but imagining never seeing Juliette again fills me with lead. That and I promised her I wouldn’t leave. From best friend to uncle it is.
At the next light, I type in a response, knowing Juliette is staring at that phone even now, dying to hear from me. For all she knows, I’m having an episode of some variety since I didn’t respond at around three in the afternoon when she sent me the message.
You’re telling me over a text?
Juliette: I made you a fancy little card with the announcement, but I’ve been throwing up all day today, so you get a text, same as everyone else. [a dozen of puking emojis with an angry devil at the end] Come for dinner at Dad’s this Sunday. I miss you.
Shane’s announcement about moving takes on a different tone.A family needs space.Remembering my response, I feel like an idiot.It’s just the two of you. How much space do you need?Not two anymore. Three.
When I arrive at Laurel’s place, several flashes dance over the bushes by the main gate. Is that a reporter? I’d probably give him a few more seconds of my attention, but the gate starts opening before I touch the buzzer. That’s unusual. Hair rises on the back of my neck as the heavy metal panes offer me entrance, but I proceed along the long, cobblestone driveway.
The Halifax residence hides behind a wall of pines and other thick trees. Its bricks are overrun by vines. Neither Vincent nor Rebecca, Laurel’s mother, are fond of flowers, and their lawn is wild. Always mowed, but thick and tall up to the ankles. I have sprawled on that lawn a few times. The grass tickles and cocoons you in its tender embrace. I would love to pass out in its cool blades right now.
I’m passing by the entrance, heading to the designated parking area on the east side, when the doors fly open and people spill out of the house. Oh, crap. I was hoping to drop Laurel off quietly, without her family seeing me and revealing to Laurel that I’m a little more than familiar with her father. A deep, regretful kind of sadness floods me. This is the last night I’m seeing her.
A beam of blinding light hits my eyes. Someone’s fist pounds on the car. “Open the door!” orders a booming voice—Jonas, Vincent’s guard.
Laurel jumps awake. “What the—” She squints in the light.
“Open the door!” Jonas repeats louder.
“All right, all right!” I yell back, shifting into park. What a welcome. What do they think I did to Laurel?
“Jonas, chill!” She tumbles out of the car.
The light finally drops away from my eyes, and I blink, everything blurry for a few seconds. Laurel has unlocked the car by leaving, so my door flies open, and a pair of vice-like hands clamps over my left shoulder. I throw out my foot, hitting Jonas in the side, grab his hands while he’s recoiling from the first part of the attack, and wrench myself free.
He’s a quick shot though. Jonas grabs a handful of my pants next to my knee and attempts to drag me out. I let him, but only enough to gain more space to clamp my fingers around his wrists before I drop him to the ground onto his back.
“Can we be done with this?” I shove him in the chest, hard enough to make him feel the stones underneath him with his spine. “I didn’t do anything wrong, and I was going to get out anyway.” I stand aside. I have bigger worries than dealing with an overprotective guard. Any second now Laurel will realize I’m no stranger to her family. No matter how hard I try, I fail to brace myself for that moment.
“Ah.” Vincent offers Jonas a hand to help him up, which the former Marine ignores, naturally. “We were worried in vain. Laurel was with you.” He turns to his wife. “Jace would be my first choice to take care of Laurel. Kung fu skills for the win.” He redirects his hand to me.
I shake it. “Good evening.” My eyes stay with Laurel. She must’ve already pieced it together that her father knows me.
Or not. She scowls at Jonas, who gets off the ground and “stumbles” into my side, his elbow aiming for my ribs. I sidestep him, which earns me a nice glare.
“Good evening? It’s morning.” Rebecca’s tone clips with a sharpness of a worried mother. “What happened to your phone?” Her chastisements aren’t directed at me, though. She’s grilling Laurel.
“The battery died. I’m sorry.” Laurel lifts her wrist. “But I had my watch, and you weren’t supposed to be home tonight.”
“Aw, Laurel.” Rebecca squishes her in a tight, happy hug. “Did you have lots of fun?”
That’s quite a shift. From you’re-grounded-forever to well-done.
“We just had dinner and goofed off on guitars—” Laurel’s eyes pop wide.
Here comes the end.
She grabs my hand and yanks me closer to whisper, “Leave. Get out of here right now!”
Huh? I thought she’d lash out on me about concealing the truth, but… Ah. That’s right. Vincent and Rebecca must be dreaming of our wedding already.
