Disclaimer: Not mine, all Disney's. *girn* DOn't you just hate it when stories make them selves longer then they need to be? Well, this one has done it! This was SUPPOSE to be "Much Ado About Nothing", but it managed to write itself into something different, so now I have to write "Much Ado About Nothing"! GRR! *girn* Anyway, I hope you like it, and this is for everybody that wanted to see more of Jamie's family! :) Hope you like it, and without furhter ado...
Family Ties
Catie Roth was fast asleep, her long dark hair hanging over her face to half cover the black bruise that marred her cheek. Her fingers were coiled up near her mouth, and she slept peacefully on the old brown couch, her chest rising and falling with each soft breath she took. A bright red, orange, green and purple afghan covered her to her waist, the black shirt and long gold and black skirt that she had been wearing since the day before wrinkled around her body.
Jamie Waite stood at the end of the couch, looking down at her, his dark eyes worried. He still had his leather jacket on, his hands shoved into his pockets, and a worry line creasing the skin between his eyes.
She hadn't stirred in the three hours that he had been standing guard over her, only twitching a few times to some mental stimulus. Once, she had sighed, and he'd jumped a mile, but then she had settled back into her peaceful slumber.
The midday sunlight streaming in through the large living room windows illuminated his living room, and, lacking anything better to do, he looked over it, committing every single detail to memory.
A worn out brown chair, a match to the couch, was pushed up against one of the egg shell white walls, a grape juice stain coating one arm. He smiled, remembering how his mother had scrubbed to get the stain out, before finally sighing and giving up, justifying herself by saying that the stain gave the chair "character". The coffee table, set in front of the couch and directly across from the fireplace, corners had been rubbed down into nubs, and it's cherry wood top was impossibly scratched and marred, from long use as a child's "stage" and launch pad. The carpet was a gray brown, well used and soft to the touch. Another chair, this one a threadbare recliner, resided on the other side of the couch, the foot rest permanently stuck in the midway position, thanks Crimson's fifth grade science project. The floor was littered lightly with toys, Sami's teddy bear perched precariously on top of the couch, and peering down at Catie with an interested look on it's stuffed face.
The mantle above the fire place was loaded almost to the breaking point with pictures. Jamie, Jazz, Crimson, and Molly's most recent school photos and a professional photo depicting Sami and her baby doll smiled down at the occupants of the room. But along with those pictures was a photo of a young man with short black hair and deep green eyes, with a slight smirk pulling at his features, dressed in a black leather jacket and leaning against a motorcycle, one arm crossed over his chest. A much younger Genevieve stood beside of him, her head resting on his shoulder. The picture next to that one depicted a family, the dark haired man from the previous picture standing behind an eleven year old Jamie, with his arm around a beaming Genevieve. Three little girls, Jazz, Crimson and Molly, beamed out of the frame as well, their dark eyes shining.
Jamie turned his eyes from the pictures, instead letting his gaze rest on the peacefully sleeping Catie. The girl whimpered slightly in her sleep, twisting as if to get away from some one subconsciously, her face twisting in an expression of pain.
"Catie?" Jamie whispered, knowing that she wouldn't hear him. Moving quicker then he thought possible, he was kneeling beside her, reaching out to stroke a lock of black hair out of her face. She cringed from his touch, her eyes suddenly popping open.
She gapped at him for a minute, looking like she was just barely biting back a scream. Jamie blinked in surprise and reached out to touch her face, not knowing what else to do. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak, and Catie let out a ear piercing scream.
Jamie flinched back, just as his mother came running through the door, her long skirt billowing around her bare feet. She shot a glance at Jamie, before darting to Catie's side, gathering the distraught girl close to her side.
"Shhhh....it's alright, honey. Shhhh..." Genevieve whispered to the girl, stroking her long dark hair back from her face.
"Catie?" Jamie's voice was husky and scratchy, nothing like his normal voice. However, Catie looked up, her eyes focusing on him and she shuddered, pulling herself away from Genevieve to fling herself into Jamie's waiting arms.
Jamie blinked and looked at his mother in concern, wondering what in the world was going on. His mother's lips were pulled down into a frown, her dark brown eyes studying her son and his friend with a thoughtfully sad expression.
"Catie...Catie, what's wrong?" Jamie asked into her hair, rubbing her back in slow semi-circles.
"I...oh...Jamie..." Catie choked out, clinging to Jamie as though her very life depended on it. Jamie continued to hold her, rocking back and forth gently, wondering what in the world could she have been dreaming to effect her so horribly.
"Catie." His mother's voice surprised them both, and Jamie looked up at her, wondering what she was going to say. Catie turned from his chest and looked at her, tears still trickling down her face. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe."
"I...I...am...?" Catie whimpered slightly, quaking like a leaf in a tree in Jamie's arms. Genevieve let a slight smile of reassurance touch her lips, and she reached out to gently brush some of the tears off the girl's cheeks.
"Yes. Your safe here Catie--nobodies going to hurt you. Jamie isn't going to let them." The older woman assured her, her eyes flicking to her son for an instant. Jamie took the hint and held Catie closer, laying his cheek against the top of her head.
The girl slowly relaxed, though she still clung to Jamie as though her very life depended on the contact between them. Genevieve watched them for a few more minutes, her eyes darker then Jamie could remember having seen them before. A sort of old sadness and pain seemed to hover in his mother's eyes, and he almost opened his mouth to ask about it, but Catie whimpered in his arms, and he turned his full attention back to her.
"Jamie?" A little girl's voice asked from the doorway. The young man looked up, and found his youngest sister, four year old Sami, standing in the doorway, her little baby hands holding a doll close to her chest. "What's wrong with Catie?"
"Nothing...nothing." Catie fought for control over her fear and pushed it out of her mind, pulling herself together as best she could. "Nothing. I'm fine."
Sami blinked at her, her large brown eyes declaring that she knew that Catie was lying, but she didn't say anything in response. The tiny child padded over to her brother and his friend, her long red hair swinging. Her mother lifted an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, when Sami sat down on the floor beside Jamie and Catie, and reached out to pat Catie's hand.
Catie blinked, but smiled at the little girl, turning her hand over and capturing Sami's hand in her own. Sami smiled her brother's smile at the older girl, dark eyes far wiser then her years.
"It'll be okay." Sami assured Catie softly, her lips hinting at a smile. "Jamie will protect you."
"You just keep getting volenteered for that job, don't you?" Catie tried to joke, even though it fell flat and she knew it.
"Hey, it's what I'm here for." Jamie smiled at her, giving her another hug before releasing her. Catie crawled back toward the couch, and leaned against it, facing Jamie, who had pulled his long legs into the Indian position. Sami scooted over and crawled into his lap, the top of her head resting against his chest. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, and the brother and sister gave Catie identical looks of worry.
Catie blinked, and tried to smile at them. "Do you two have any idea how much you look alike?"
"Do you have any idea how much the ACT alike?" Genevieve asked from her post on the couch. Catie jumped--she had forgotten that the woman was there. The older woman laughed, surprising Catie again. "Of course, people tell me all the time that their JUST like me, so I suppose that I can't really complain."
"Really?" Catie directed her question towards Jamie, who rolled his eyes, but smiled.
"Yeah, but she's got a nastier temper then I do." He joked, grinning at his mother.
"Good thing she's smaller then you are." Catie commented, then almost winced, hoping that Genevieve wouldn't take offense. However, the woman just laughed, rising from the couch and swishing toward the kitchen.
"Cait--size has nothing to do with. Jamie's father use to say that Jamie had my eyes, my smile and my right hook."
Sami and Jamie snickered, and Catie looked back at them, her dark eyes glittering. "Do you really, Jamie?"
The young man in question nodded his head, his dark eyes shining. "Oh yeah. Who do you think taught me how to hit somebody?"
"Your joking, right?" Catie demanded, suddenly shocked.
Both Jamie and Sami shook their heads, not a hint of a smile playing on either of their lips. "Nope!" A soft female voice called from the general direction of the door at the same time, making the trio turn to see who it was.
Jazz stood in the doorway, her long black hair pulled into a pony tale, and her hands behind her back. She stood tall, her shoulder's straight, and her toes pointed at slight angles. Catie blinked, and then turned to look at Jamie questioningly.
"She's a dancer." He responded to her silent question, grinning as Catie nodded in understanding.
"Huh?" Jazz asked, her dark eyes slightly confused.
"She wanted to know why you stand like, well, that." Jamie informed his fourteen year old sister, gesturing to her posture.
"Oh, are you a mind reader now?" Another voice asked, and Crimson popped her fire engine red head around her older sister, and smirked at her big brother.
"Yes I am. And no, she's not." Jamie stressed, glaring at the red head. Crimson mock slapped her face, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief like Jamie's had a tendency to do.
"You ARE a mind reader! I am SO IMPRESSED. Can I take you to show and tell?" Crimson begged dryly, rolling her dark eyes.
Catie snorted with laughter, putting her hands up over her face and her shoulders shook slightly with giggles. Jamie and Crimson blinked at each other, and then looked over at her, wondering what she found so amusing.
"What?" They asked in unison, and then glared at one another.
"Do they do this all the time?" Catie asked an amused looking Jazz, who nodded her head.
"Oh yeah. It's cause their so similar, Momma says." The fourteen year old explained, a slight smile pulling at her lips.
"How did you do that, Jamie?"
"I'm a mind reader."
"Yeah right."
"I am."
"If you were really a mind reader, you'd get better grades!"
"Hey--bite me!"
Catie giggled and shook her head, the fear of before lost in the amusement the two siblings argument generated. She looked back at Jazz, who was struggling to contain her own amusement, and another wave of laughter over took her.
Before Crimson could come back with anything to her brother's comment, Genevieve's voice rang through the house. "Jamie! Come in here!"
"Oooh, you're in trouble AG-AIN!" Crimson teased, her eyes sparkling. Jamie grinned and shooed Sami out of his lap, standing up slowly.
"No I'm not, I haven't done anything to get in trouble."
"For a change!" Jazz piped up, sending Catie, Crimson and even little Sami into peals of laughter.
"This isn't as funny as you guys think it is." Jamie groused, heading for the door, running his fingers through his lap.
Sami, having been denied her accustom place in her "favoritest" brother's lap, shocked both her sisters and Catie by climbing over into the young Goth girl's lap. Catie shifted her legs slightly under the unaccustomed weight, but adjusted quickly. The little girl was warm and soft and smelled like sugar and spice, and the weight of the child was strangely comforting.
Crimson and Jazz exchanged a look, but then simultaneously shrugged. Catie looked at them in confusion, lifting an eyebrow and preparing to ask what Sami was doing in her lap, when Jazz answered her unspoken question.
"She must like you. She rarely ever sits in anybody but our laps." Jazz mused out loud.
"I like her." Sami repeated her statement from early, snuggling into Catie's arms and closing her eyes, and promptly falling asleep.
Crimson's mouth dropped, and her eyes got as huge as dinner plates. Catie adjusted the little girl in her lap and then looked up at Crimson.
"What?" She asked, confused.
"Nothing--it's just that she NEVER does that. I mean, the only people's whose laps she sleeps in is Jamie's and Momma's." Jazz told Catie, her own dark eyes huge.
"What, she doesn't sleep in your dad's lap?" Catie asked innocently, then immediately wished she hadn't.
Crimson's face feel, her dark eyes dropping to study the old carpet, her lower lip beginning to tremble slightly. Jazz sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, her own eyes brimming with tears.
'Note to self: don't ask Jamie about his dad.' Catie thought to herself, hoping that she wasn't going to make the younger girls cry.
"She never meet our dad." Jazz explained, sitting down beside Catie and Sami, reaching out to pat the child's head.
Catie couldn't help but ask. "Why?"
"He died before she was born." Jazz whispered softly, patting the child's hair. "Almost five years ago."
"I'm so...sorry. I...didn't know. Jamie never said..." Catie trailed off, not sure what else to say.
"We--any of us--don't talk about it much." Crimson explained, sinking to the floor in front of the older girls bonelessly, propping her chin up on one hand.
"It's just to hard." Jazz explained softly, eyeing Catie carefully.
"I bet." Catie murmured, looking down at the sleeping Sami.
"What's your dad like?" The dark haired girl asked Catie, tilting her head to the left. Crimson looked interested to, her red eyebrows lifting almost to her hair line.
"Umm...probably not anything like yours. Hopefully." The last comment was muttered under her breathe, and neither of the girls caught it. Catie sighed thankfully, and then smiled. "So--what was Jamie like when he was little?"
*****
"What's up Mom? I want to get back out there before the munchkins start telling Catie embarrassing stuff about me." Jamie grinned, walking into the kitchen and jumping up onto the counter.
"Oh, they don't know any of the good stuff. Wait until *I* get her alone!" His mother teased, her dark eyes glinting.
"Oh, is this what you wanted to talk to me about?" Jamie groaned, getting ready to jump off the table and go back to Catie, when his mother's next words froze him in his tracks.
"What do you know about Catie's father?" It wasn't really the words. It was the way she said it--he hadn't heard her so serious since-- *that* night, nearly five years ago.
"Nothing. I don't even know what his name is--she never mentions him. Why?" Jamie asked, confused.
Genevieve shook her head, not looking at her soon. "No reason. Just...wondering."
"Liar." Jamie accused his mother, much to her surprise. But before she could condemn him for his comment, he continued. "What are you getting at mom? You don't 'just wonder' about anything. And if it involves Catie, I wanna know about it."
Genevieve looked up at her son, and put a hand up over her mouth. She wasn't looking at her son right at that second--she was looking at her husband, nearly twenty years ago. Never mind that Jamie had her eyes---right now, the expression in them was the same as she remembered in Sam Waite's deep green eyes, boiling with a strange mix of anger, concern and love.
"You do love her so." She whispered, rising her hand to her mouth. Jamie started at her words, and stared at his mother in shock.
"What?" He asked, wondering how his mother had figured something out in a day that had taken him years to realize.
"Nothing, baby. Listen--do you think Catie might want to stay here? I mean, just for the weekend--give her mom some time to calm down?" Genevieve wondered, looking over her shoulder.
"I think she should stay here forever." Jamie murmured, and then wished he hadn't when he saw his mother smile.
"Give it time, Jamie. You might just get your wish."
Family Ties
Catie Roth was fast asleep, her long dark hair hanging over her face to half cover the black bruise that marred her cheek. Her fingers were coiled up near her mouth, and she slept peacefully on the old brown couch, her chest rising and falling with each soft breath she took. A bright red, orange, green and purple afghan covered her to her waist, the black shirt and long gold and black skirt that she had been wearing since the day before wrinkled around her body.
Jamie Waite stood at the end of the couch, looking down at her, his dark eyes worried. He still had his leather jacket on, his hands shoved into his pockets, and a worry line creasing the skin between his eyes.
She hadn't stirred in the three hours that he had been standing guard over her, only twitching a few times to some mental stimulus. Once, she had sighed, and he'd jumped a mile, but then she had settled back into her peaceful slumber.
The midday sunlight streaming in through the large living room windows illuminated his living room, and, lacking anything better to do, he looked over it, committing every single detail to memory.
A worn out brown chair, a match to the couch, was pushed up against one of the egg shell white walls, a grape juice stain coating one arm. He smiled, remembering how his mother had scrubbed to get the stain out, before finally sighing and giving up, justifying herself by saying that the stain gave the chair "character". The coffee table, set in front of the couch and directly across from the fireplace, corners had been rubbed down into nubs, and it's cherry wood top was impossibly scratched and marred, from long use as a child's "stage" and launch pad. The carpet was a gray brown, well used and soft to the touch. Another chair, this one a threadbare recliner, resided on the other side of the couch, the foot rest permanently stuck in the midway position, thanks Crimson's fifth grade science project. The floor was littered lightly with toys, Sami's teddy bear perched precariously on top of the couch, and peering down at Catie with an interested look on it's stuffed face.
The mantle above the fire place was loaded almost to the breaking point with pictures. Jamie, Jazz, Crimson, and Molly's most recent school photos and a professional photo depicting Sami and her baby doll smiled down at the occupants of the room. But along with those pictures was a photo of a young man with short black hair and deep green eyes, with a slight smirk pulling at his features, dressed in a black leather jacket and leaning against a motorcycle, one arm crossed over his chest. A much younger Genevieve stood beside of him, her head resting on his shoulder. The picture next to that one depicted a family, the dark haired man from the previous picture standing behind an eleven year old Jamie, with his arm around a beaming Genevieve. Three little girls, Jazz, Crimson and Molly, beamed out of the frame as well, their dark eyes shining.
Jamie turned his eyes from the pictures, instead letting his gaze rest on the peacefully sleeping Catie. The girl whimpered slightly in her sleep, twisting as if to get away from some one subconsciously, her face twisting in an expression of pain.
"Catie?" Jamie whispered, knowing that she wouldn't hear him. Moving quicker then he thought possible, he was kneeling beside her, reaching out to stroke a lock of black hair out of her face. She cringed from his touch, her eyes suddenly popping open.
She gapped at him for a minute, looking like she was just barely biting back a scream. Jamie blinked in surprise and reached out to touch her face, not knowing what else to do. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak, and Catie let out a ear piercing scream.
Jamie flinched back, just as his mother came running through the door, her long skirt billowing around her bare feet. She shot a glance at Jamie, before darting to Catie's side, gathering the distraught girl close to her side.
"Shhhh....it's alright, honey. Shhhh..." Genevieve whispered to the girl, stroking her long dark hair back from her face.
"Catie?" Jamie's voice was husky and scratchy, nothing like his normal voice. However, Catie looked up, her eyes focusing on him and she shuddered, pulling herself away from Genevieve to fling herself into Jamie's waiting arms.
Jamie blinked and looked at his mother in concern, wondering what in the world was going on. His mother's lips were pulled down into a frown, her dark brown eyes studying her son and his friend with a thoughtfully sad expression.
"Catie...Catie, what's wrong?" Jamie asked into her hair, rubbing her back in slow semi-circles.
"I...oh...Jamie..." Catie choked out, clinging to Jamie as though her very life depended on it. Jamie continued to hold her, rocking back and forth gently, wondering what in the world could she have been dreaming to effect her so horribly.
"Catie." His mother's voice surprised them both, and Jamie looked up at her, wondering what she was going to say. Catie turned from his chest and looked at her, tears still trickling down her face. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe."
"I...I...am...?" Catie whimpered slightly, quaking like a leaf in a tree in Jamie's arms. Genevieve let a slight smile of reassurance touch her lips, and she reached out to gently brush some of the tears off the girl's cheeks.
"Yes. Your safe here Catie--nobodies going to hurt you. Jamie isn't going to let them." The older woman assured her, her eyes flicking to her son for an instant. Jamie took the hint and held Catie closer, laying his cheek against the top of her head.
The girl slowly relaxed, though she still clung to Jamie as though her very life depended on the contact between them. Genevieve watched them for a few more minutes, her eyes darker then Jamie could remember having seen them before. A sort of old sadness and pain seemed to hover in his mother's eyes, and he almost opened his mouth to ask about it, but Catie whimpered in his arms, and he turned his full attention back to her.
"Jamie?" A little girl's voice asked from the doorway. The young man looked up, and found his youngest sister, four year old Sami, standing in the doorway, her little baby hands holding a doll close to her chest. "What's wrong with Catie?"
"Nothing...nothing." Catie fought for control over her fear and pushed it out of her mind, pulling herself together as best she could. "Nothing. I'm fine."
Sami blinked at her, her large brown eyes declaring that she knew that Catie was lying, but she didn't say anything in response. The tiny child padded over to her brother and his friend, her long red hair swinging. Her mother lifted an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, when Sami sat down on the floor beside Jamie and Catie, and reached out to pat Catie's hand.
Catie blinked, but smiled at the little girl, turning her hand over and capturing Sami's hand in her own. Sami smiled her brother's smile at the older girl, dark eyes far wiser then her years.
"It'll be okay." Sami assured Catie softly, her lips hinting at a smile. "Jamie will protect you."
"You just keep getting volenteered for that job, don't you?" Catie tried to joke, even though it fell flat and she knew it.
"Hey, it's what I'm here for." Jamie smiled at her, giving her another hug before releasing her. Catie crawled back toward the couch, and leaned against it, facing Jamie, who had pulled his long legs into the Indian position. Sami scooted over and crawled into his lap, the top of her head resting against his chest. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, and the brother and sister gave Catie identical looks of worry.
Catie blinked, and tried to smile at them. "Do you two have any idea how much you look alike?"
"Do you have any idea how much the ACT alike?" Genevieve asked from her post on the couch. Catie jumped--she had forgotten that the woman was there. The older woman laughed, surprising Catie again. "Of course, people tell me all the time that their JUST like me, so I suppose that I can't really complain."
"Really?" Catie directed her question towards Jamie, who rolled his eyes, but smiled.
"Yeah, but she's got a nastier temper then I do." He joked, grinning at his mother.
"Good thing she's smaller then you are." Catie commented, then almost winced, hoping that Genevieve wouldn't take offense. However, the woman just laughed, rising from the couch and swishing toward the kitchen.
"Cait--size has nothing to do with. Jamie's father use to say that Jamie had my eyes, my smile and my right hook."
Sami and Jamie snickered, and Catie looked back at them, her dark eyes glittering. "Do you really, Jamie?"
The young man in question nodded his head, his dark eyes shining. "Oh yeah. Who do you think taught me how to hit somebody?"
"Your joking, right?" Catie demanded, suddenly shocked.
Both Jamie and Sami shook their heads, not a hint of a smile playing on either of their lips. "Nope!" A soft female voice called from the general direction of the door at the same time, making the trio turn to see who it was.
Jazz stood in the doorway, her long black hair pulled into a pony tale, and her hands behind her back. She stood tall, her shoulder's straight, and her toes pointed at slight angles. Catie blinked, and then turned to look at Jamie questioningly.
"She's a dancer." He responded to her silent question, grinning as Catie nodded in understanding.
"Huh?" Jazz asked, her dark eyes slightly confused.
"She wanted to know why you stand like, well, that." Jamie informed his fourteen year old sister, gesturing to her posture.
"Oh, are you a mind reader now?" Another voice asked, and Crimson popped her fire engine red head around her older sister, and smirked at her big brother.
"Yes I am. And no, she's not." Jamie stressed, glaring at the red head. Crimson mock slapped her face, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief like Jamie's had a tendency to do.
"You ARE a mind reader! I am SO IMPRESSED. Can I take you to show and tell?" Crimson begged dryly, rolling her dark eyes.
Catie snorted with laughter, putting her hands up over her face and her shoulders shook slightly with giggles. Jamie and Crimson blinked at each other, and then looked over at her, wondering what she found so amusing.
"What?" They asked in unison, and then glared at one another.
"Do they do this all the time?" Catie asked an amused looking Jazz, who nodded her head.
"Oh yeah. It's cause their so similar, Momma says." The fourteen year old explained, a slight smile pulling at her lips.
"How did you do that, Jamie?"
"I'm a mind reader."
"Yeah right."
"I am."
"If you were really a mind reader, you'd get better grades!"
"Hey--bite me!"
Catie giggled and shook her head, the fear of before lost in the amusement the two siblings argument generated. She looked back at Jazz, who was struggling to contain her own amusement, and another wave of laughter over took her.
Before Crimson could come back with anything to her brother's comment, Genevieve's voice rang through the house. "Jamie! Come in here!"
"Oooh, you're in trouble AG-AIN!" Crimson teased, her eyes sparkling. Jamie grinned and shooed Sami out of his lap, standing up slowly.
"No I'm not, I haven't done anything to get in trouble."
"For a change!" Jazz piped up, sending Catie, Crimson and even little Sami into peals of laughter.
"This isn't as funny as you guys think it is." Jamie groused, heading for the door, running his fingers through his lap.
Sami, having been denied her accustom place in her "favoritest" brother's lap, shocked both her sisters and Catie by climbing over into the young Goth girl's lap. Catie shifted her legs slightly under the unaccustomed weight, but adjusted quickly. The little girl was warm and soft and smelled like sugar and spice, and the weight of the child was strangely comforting.
Crimson and Jazz exchanged a look, but then simultaneously shrugged. Catie looked at them in confusion, lifting an eyebrow and preparing to ask what Sami was doing in her lap, when Jazz answered her unspoken question.
"She must like you. She rarely ever sits in anybody but our laps." Jazz mused out loud.
"I like her." Sami repeated her statement from early, snuggling into Catie's arms and closing her eyes, and promptly falling asleep.
Crimson's mouth dropped, and her eyes got as huge as dinner plates. Catie adjusted the little girl in her lap and then looked up at Crimson.
"What?" She asked, confused.
"Nothing--it's just that she NEVER does that. I mean, the only people's whose laps she sleeps in is Jamie's and Momma's." Jazz told Catie, her own dark eyes huge.
"What, she doesn't sleep in your dad's lap?" Catie asked innocently, then immediately wished she hadn't.
Crimson's face feel, her dark eyes dropping to study the old carpet, her lower lip beginning to tremble slightly. Jazz sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, her own eyes brimming with tears.
'Note to self: don't ask Jamie about his dad.' Catie thought to herself, hoping that she wasn't going to make the younger girls cry.
"She never meet our dad." Jazz explained, sitting down beside Catie and Sami, reaching out to pat the child's head.
Catie couldn't help but ask. "Why?"
"He died before she was born." Jazz whispered softly, patting the child's hair. "Almost five years ago."
"I'm so...sorry. I...didn't know. Jamie never said..." Catie trailed off, not sure what else to say.
"We--any of us--don't talk about it much." Crimson explained, sinking to the floor in front of the older girls bonelessly, propping her chin up on one hand.
"It's just to hard." Jazz explained softly, eyeing Catie carefully.
"I bet." Catie murmured, looking down at the sleeping Sami.
"What's your dad like?" The dark haired girl asked Catie, tilting her head to the left. Crimson looked interested to, her red eyebrows lifting almost to her hair line.
"Umm...probably not anything like yours. Hopefully." The last comment was muttered under her breathe, and neither of the girls caught it. Catie sighed thankfully, and then smiled. "So--what was Jamie like when he was little?"
*****
"What's up Mom? I want to get back out there before the munchkins start telling Catie embarrassing stuff about me." Jamie grinned, walking into the kitchen and jumping up onto the counter.
"Oh, they don't know any of the good stuff. Wait until *I* get her alone!" His mother teased, her dark eyes glinting.
"Oh, is this what you wanted to talk to me about?" Jamie groaned, getting ready to jump off the table and go back to Catie, when his mother's next words froze him in his tracks.
"What do you know about Catie's father?" It wasn't really the words. It was the way she said it--he hadn't heard her so serious since-- *that* night, nearly five years ago.
"Nothing. I don't even know what his name is--she never mentions him. Why?" Jamie asked, confused.
Genevieve shook her head, not looking at her soon. "No reason. Just...wondering."
"Liar." Jamie accused his mother, much to her surprise. But before she could condemn him for his comment, he continued. "What are you getting at mom? You don't 'just wonder' about anything. And if it involves Catie, I wanna know about it."
Genevieve looked up at her son, and put a hand up over her mouth. She wasn't looking at her son right at that second--she was looking at her husband, nearly twenty years ago. Never mind that Jamie had her eyes---right now, the expression in them was the same as she remembered in Sam Waite's deep green eyes, boiling with a strange mix of anger, concern and love.
"You do love her so." She whispered, rising her hand to her mouth. Jamie started at her words, and stared at his mother in shock.
"What?" He asked, wondering how his mother had figured something out in a day that had taken him years to realize.
"Nothing, baby. Listen--do you think Catie might want to stay here? I mean, just for the weekend--give her mom some time to calm down?" Genevieve wondered, looking over her shoulder.
"I think she should stay here forever." Jamie murmured, and then wished he hadn't when he saw his mother smile.
"Give it time, Jamie. You might just get your wish."