AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Quietly, she answers, “I invited him,” as if she’s afraid of what I’ll say next.
My tapping pinky is no longer an adequate outlet for the energy pulsing through me. I roll my chair away from my desk and spin it around so I can stand up and pace. When I speak it’s through a clenched jaw. I want to scream but I know that won’t make anything better. I know she needs me to be supportive. I know when I yell, she feels like she’s ten again, dealing with a narcissistic father who doesn’t care about her emotions. “Okay. So. You invited him. Why?”
“I just figured, since he’s going to be a part of my life for a while, I mean, forever really, right? Well, isn’t it better the kids know him on some level? Better they meet him as our personal trainer, rather than noticing some random, weird guy following me around somewhere some time.”
I pace for a full minute while I think about what she’s saying. I remember back to when I came out of my muse-induced haze on the top of that mountain. I remember the confusion, and having to wait until we could be alone so we could talk about what the hell had happened to me–to both of us–and why. George was pacing at the bottom of the mountain as we descended, and when I found out who he was I just felt betrayed that this kid knew more about my wife than I did. All of the emotion inside of me, everything I hadn’t been able to deal with yet, focused into a laser beam of anger, at him.
Now, I wonder if I would have felt differently about George in that moment, and all the moments since, if I had known him before everything that happened in Las Vegas.
The family picture we took on the beach last summer catches my eye. It doesn’t matter howIfelt or ifIwould have felt differently. It wouldn’t keep them safe to keep them ignorant of…everything. I have to admit that she’s right about this, that it makes sense to have the kids get to know George in one way or another now. I stop in the middle of my office, pinching the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger.
Finally, I sigh and manage to speak with a softer tone, hoping I sound understanding. “Yeah, I get it. Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” Still, my voice is scratchy from a long day and a life I have little control over now. “I just would have liked for you to ask me first before you made these plans.”
“Well, I guess we’re finally even then.”
Touché, wife. Touché. I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, okay. It will be fine. Jessie will know we’re lying immediately, of course. But hey, maybe we’ll havesometime before she calls us out on it.”
Miranda laughs nervously. She knows I’m right. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jessiealreadysuspects something. She’s too smart for her own good—and ours.
“We okay?” Miranda asks.
“Always. I’ll be home around five thirty.”
“I gotta run then. I need to check on the chicken, stir the barley, and finish setting the dining room table. I know the rest of the dining room is a disaster, but I can’t possibly make it look neat before George gets here. Hopefully my housekeeping skills don’t make him doubt my ability to protect humanity. Or, at least, not more than he probably already does.”
“Listen, if he ever doubts you, that’s his loss.” Then before I hang up, “I love you.”
I hear my wife smile through the phone, “I love you, too.”
After hanging up, I sit back at my desk to finish up some loose ends before I leave for the night. I look again at the framed family picture. We were all so blissfully ignorant a year ago. But really, that doesn’t mean we were any safer. Maybe it’s time I try to look at George a little differently. Maybe he’s not the one that brought this into our lives. Maybe he’s just the messenger. But maybe he’s the only one who can keep us all alive.
Chapter 7
George
AsIdrivetoMiranda’s and Jake’s house, the little metaphorical angel on my shoulder tells me that I’ve made a horrible mistake. These two need their time away from me. They need time together, with their children, as a family. Sometimes Miranda needs to put her Guardian gauntlet down and just be Miranda.
But the devil on my other shoulder reminds me that in this role, she is never off the clock. I need her to keep our responsibilities at the forefront of her mind, no matter how much of a burden and inconvenience they may be. And, as much as I hate to admit this, I also miss her when we’re not together. She’s fun, and funny, and I enjoy who I am when I’m with her. I’m obviously not romantically interested in her, but she has a magnetic personality. She’s able to light up any room she walks into. If only she could lighten Jake up a little.
I’m not sure what his deal is. I don’t know if he’s jealous that his wife is a superhero, annoyed that she has responsibilities outside their house, or if he’s genuinely just scared for her. Whatever is behind his behavior, his presence at our training has been stifling her. There is a difference, clear to me anyway, of how she acts and reacts and fights when he is at the dojo versus when he is not. I hope Maria helps him to remove whatever stick is firmly up his ass before he really gets in Miranda’s way.
I pull into their driveway at 5:43, two minutes early. Well, I’ve always thought it’s better to be early than late. Both her and Jake’s cars are here. Hopefully, Jake can behave himself and pull off pretending that I’m his personal trainer as well as hers. I look into my rearview mirror to make sure my hair is properly coiffed but stop when I realize I have no one to impress, and laugh at this nervous tic of mine.
I grab the bottle of wine from the seat next to me and push open my car door. It took a bit of a drive to find a store that had the 2008 ice wine she said was one of the only kinds she likes, but I could not bring myself to buy the eight-dollar glorified sparkling grape juice she said was the only other option. I’ve never bought an eight-dollar bottle of wine before, and I didn’t want to start today. So, since I had the time to get this one, I figured, why not! I actually bought the store’s entire stock of it, since the vineyard doesn’t produce it anymore. I mean, if it’s the Guardian’s favorite, it can’t hurt for me to keep a stash around for emergencies. Plus the alcohol can be a nice antidote for all the caffeine she consumes if she’s ever too hyped up.
I focus my energy on taking deep breaths so I don’t have my own panic attack as I walk up the stone path running through their perfect suburban yard. I take one final, deep, shaky breath and ring the doorbell. The circumstances are so different from the last time I rang this bell, the day I told Miranda she was the Guardian. It’s hard to believe that was only six months ago. However, it’s also hard to believe that six months have already passed since that day.
The door flings open, and a mini-Miranda looks at me. Mini-Miranda is probably not the best word for her, as she is very close to real-Miranda’s height. But this girl definitely gets her magnetic presence from her mother. And her beautiful curly locks.
“Hey, you must be Jessie.” I cradle the wine in my left arm and extend my right hand to offer a handshake.
“Um, yes… Andyou’rethe personal trainer?” Her hazel eyes open a little wider, her right eyebrow shooting up half the distance to her hairline. “Aren’t you all supposed to be big and buff? You look a little, um,littleto be a personal trainer. I kind of think I could take you.”
Yup. Definitely Jessie. But before I can answer, a tiny and more feminine version of Jake uses her hip to knock her big sister away from the door before screeching at her fleeing sister, “Jessie! You’re so rude!” She locks her deep brown eyes on mine and changes her tone to a soft, delicate, cheerful one. “I’m so sorry for my sister’s behavior. I’m Phoebe.” She holds out her right hand to gently put her fingers in mine. It’s quite a mature gesture from an eleven-year-old, and I can’t help but smile a bit.
“Hi, Phoebe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I nod my head slightly in greeting.
“Please come in, George.” Phoebe moves back into the house a step to usher me inside.
