Chapter 1: The Prodigal

Jack looked skyward and felt the warm sun after having stepped through the sliding doors at LAX. What was it about this state and its perpetual blue sky that always elicited a smile? Jack Forseti always liked coming back to California. It had the intangible it. The feeling of never having been gone and picking right back up where you had left it off. Like being home. Not that Jack knew what having a home felt like. Despite owning several and not truly living in any of them, the house in Southern California was the hands down favorite. It was nothing more than a Spanish ranch style house but its large overhanging eaves in the middle of its U-shape floor plan created an arboretum of sorts that was perfect for sipping coffee. Or scotch; honestly some days just needed to end with a good glass of scotch. But that house would have to wait. It was probably being rented out anyway. No, the address Jack gave to the cab driver was not the quiet single story home hidden away in Malibu. Instead it was to a bakery in the valley. Jack needed to meet with her before doing anything else. After all, she was the reason Jack was here.

Jack approached the bakery casually but kept a constant wandering eye assessing everyone and anything. This meeting hadn't been planned but Jack knew she would be here. They hadn't talked to each other in months and hadn't seen each other in years longer. Nonetheless, when Jack had taken that first assignment a promise had been made and Jack did not break promises, especially not to her. They had picked this bakery not for its pastries, which were above par but for its selection of tea. The owner of the shop had a special reserve selection of teas that only a handful of locals were privy to. Jack made sure to send the shop owner teas from every assignment to guarantee it was well stocked. Each time a new tea was delivered it let her know all was well. Jack reached for the door and gave the slightest of pause with a deep breath. The hesitation wasn't nerves and in fact would not be noticed by anyone but her, had she been watching, but a sense overwhelming that Jack only felt when meeting with her.

She was seated at a table by herself drinking a cup of tea looking completely at ease, as if she were simply there to have a thought by herself and expecting no one. Jack smiled at her and took the seat directly across from her.

"Hello, Mum."

"I must thank you for this particular tea. Although your British accent is exquisite, I thought you may recognize this particular tea's origin and take the opportunity to practice your linguistics," she comments smiling back.

"Elnézést kérek anyám. Vagyok boldog, mint a tea," Jack answers her with an impish smile after glancing at the label. (My apologies mother. I'm glad you like the tea.)

"Your Hungarian is still very good, my dear. How have you been?"

There was no point in lying to her, she knew everything and if she didn't know the details, she knew the gist of it and that was enough. However, they were in public so Jack responded, "I've been decent. I am already enjoying the sunshine and can't wait to get my toes in the sand and back on a surfboard. This is the longest surfing break I've had."

As simple as it was it was the most honest answer Jack had given to a question in almost two years and it felt good to not have to worry about maintaining cover. She, of course, noticed the lightness in Jack's voice and a soft smile graced her face as she discreetly passed over a set of keys.

"Everything is as it should be. Am I to assume you're going to check things out before you start next month?" she questioned Jack with a knowing look.

Jack's shoulders shook with a silent laugh at being called out. "Thank you and yes, I was hoping to get the lay of the land. Need to get readjusted to a more normal life." Jack had to refrain from putting air quotes around the word normal, normal was laughable.

"Will you call him? Last I had spoken with him he hadn't heard from you in quite some time."

The feeling of overwhelming washed over Jack when she questioned like this. She was the only constant, the only one who cared enough to ask all these questions (as veiled as they may be) and the only one who could pierce the soul with a look that took no prisoners and garnered the truth. The overwhelming sense of love she showed was why Jack called her Mom.

"Yes, I will call Nate." Standing up to leave Jack paused to look at her and resisted the urge to lean down and kiss the top of her head as a child would their mother. "Thank you, Hetty."