Page 14 of The Eleventh Hour

We go past the curved stairs with the gold banisters and through a glass door behind them. I feel like I’m seeing the house with new eyes. All the expensive vases and paintings. The polished surfaces. It’s cold. Even my empty apartment holds more warmth than this exquisite monstrosity.

Mason opens yet another set of glass double doors and stands to the side. I glance up at him once, but he’s got his working face on. The familiar disappointment springs up. So, I look ahead. The whole family is in a huddle, talking. My stepmother has her arms folded over her chest. Andy looks close to tears, and Stevie just looks bored.

It’s the men who have my attention. River, with his flashing eyes, and the man next to him, in his slick suit, looking far too old. My eyes scan hungrily over him. He’s just as tall as I remember, his shoulders broad. His eyes still have that kindness, and though I can see he frowns too much, those smile lines are still there. My heart pounds at the silver at his temple, the way his lips curl into a smile. It’s been far too long.

“Eddie.” I don’t mean to say the word so loud. I don’t mean to sound so sad, so desperate, so heartbroken. But he hears me. They all do.

His eyes, an older version of River’s, jump to mine, and his entire face softens. “Jackie.” It’s a breath of sound, a lifetime of longing, too much between us, but nothing changes this.

We meet halfway as we always do, and he wraps his arms around me. I press my face against his chest and let everything fall away.

“Dad,” I whisper the word because I need to say it. I need to acknowledge it. It holds everything I want to say. I’m scared. I miss you. I love you. Help me.

He pulls away and clears his throat a few times before wrapping an arm over my shoulders and leading me to the group.

Jeraldine opens her mouth, but River snarls, his expression absolutely furious.

“Don’t be stupid, mum.” He sneers. “She’s here, and she isn’t going anywhere, and if you want me to behave, then you’ll leave it alone.”

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Edward Harmon says calmly, but it’s clear he doesn’t really care. He’s too busy looking at me.

“Edward, you can’t just have her here-”

“She’s staying, Jeraldine. I suggest you go start greeting guests,” Edward says and takes my hand. “Come with me, I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to.”

I let him lead me deeper into the garden. We walk past all the tables set out with expensive decorations and sculptures and down the stairs, out into the actual garden. We don’t talk as we walk side-by-side on the path, not until he stops beside the dahlias.

“This is the first time you’ve been here in…what?”

I shrug. “I ran away at sixteen. That was the last time.”

“It must look different.”

“In some ways, in others, it looks exactly the same.” This stilted conversation isn’t the one we should be having, but we don’t have time.

“I’m not going to ask you why you went. I think it was pretty clear, in the end, even to me, that you and Jerry would never get along. But I do wish you’d wrote or called in the time you were gone, just to let me know you were okay.”

I remain silent, unwilling to tell him why.

“If River hadn’t have found you, would you have even bothered to let me know you were in town?”

I look away, hating the grief and guilt his words conjure. The dahlia’s call me a liar. They silently judge me.

“Dad, I have reasons. I need you to trust me.”

He turns to me, frustration clear on his face. “You can be part of the family again. We can all be together.”

I shake my head. “We can’t.”

“We could.”

“Dad, we can’t. I can’t explain, but if you can’t respect that I need this, then I will have to leave, and I won’t be able to come back. My name is Jax Shade, and I’m no one to you.”

He whirls and grabs my shoulders. His eyes are tortured. “Are you in some kind of trouble? I can take care of it.”

“Not this. You can’t take care of this,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, Dad, I really fucked up this time.”

“What can I do?” He sounds so old and lost. I hate that more than anything.

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