Several months late, I am finally writing a follow-up to the end of "Listen." This will be much less dramatic. You don't have to read "Listen," but you should, if you haven't. You'll like it, probably. This is also going to follow the backstory of Paige's family that I wrote in the one-shot called "Family" in my collection "Lightning." If that all seems like a lot of research, well, I'll try to make this story comprehensive enough. It's a short one, about four chapters most likely. Please, please, please review; it is much more motivating and encouraging for writers than you realize. At any rate, enjoy!
"Paige." He cleared his throat and balled his fists in his lap to keep them from shaking. "Paige, I know that we've experienced several very intense events, and I'm impressed with the way you've handled them…"
What? No. This was a proposal, not a performance review.
Walter started again. "We've certainly faced a number of obstacles in our relationship…"
Mainly his own stubbornness. No need to remind her of that. The genius shook his head and told himself to loosen up.
"I know I was of the opinion that love didn't exist…"
Was he trying to ask her to marry him or talk her out of it?
"Since you are emotionally attached to certain traditions…"
No.
"I just…" Walter groaned and leaned forward, tapping his forehead against the edge of the steering wheel. "What I'm trying to say is…"
"Walter?"
The genius bolted upright, jumping again in his seat as his elbow grazed the horn. He quickly flipped up the mirror he'd been practicing into and attempted to appear casual as Paige opened the door and climbed into the front seat next to him, Ralph sliding silently into the back.
She eyed him with one eyebrow raised. "Are you okay?"
"Excellent," he said stiffly, checking to make sure that Ralph had his seatbelt on before he turned on the ignition and shifted the car into drive. "Simply working out the solution to a problem."
"Mmhmm," she hummed, relaxing back into her seat as he pulled away from the rest area. "Anything I can help with?"
Walter shook his head. "Not…at this stage in the process," he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile before turning his attention back to the road. "Perhaps later."
Paige shrugged. "Okay." They lapsed into silence for several minutes until she asked, "We've got about another three hours, right?"
From the back, a small voice grumbled, "It's 214.65 miles."
Walter and Paige exchanged a look and suppressed their grins as Walter said, "What's that, buddy?"
"We still have 214.43 miles to go," Ralph answered with an audible sigh, his calculations adjusting with every second that passed. "It would have been faster to take the train."
Paige threw another glance at Walter, more surprised and concerned this time. She scrunched her forehead before twisting around in her seat to face her son. "The train?"
"Trains can go up to 150 miles per hour," he explained, eyes glued to his tablet. "This car's performance suffers at speeds above 80 miles per hour. Even you can understand the math, mom."
"Gee, thanks," Paige laughed, reaching out to rest her hand on Ralph's knee. "I'm just surprised that you would want to take the train, after…you know…"
The young genius flicked his eyes up momentarily, studying her expression before returning to his game. "The odds of dying in a train accident are 500,000 to one. I'm not afraid of trains because the odds are overwhelmingly in our favor. Fear can be beaten by knowledge."
Paige released her grip and flicked her eyes from Ralph to Walter and back before biting her lip. "He really is just like you."
Walter felt his throat tighten at her words, remembering the pain in her eyes when she'd said them before and the desperation with which he had tried to outrun them the day that he—that they—almost lost everything. His fingers involuntarily stiffened on the steering wheel until Paige noticed his reaction and wrapped her palm around the base of his neck. "Hey," she said quietly. "I meant it as a good thing. It's a good thing, okay?"
The smile she flashed him was genuine, and there was no indication on her face that she was upset. Walter felt himself relax under her touch.
"I need music," Paige said to change the subject. "Ralph, honey, what are you in the mood for?"
Ralph gave no response.
"Never mind. Walter?"
"Whatever you want. It doesn't matter to me."
Paige rolled her eyes. "See, you say that, and then you complain about my choices." She lowered her voice to imitate him. "'That metaphor is flawed. This beat per minute rate is less than optimal.'"
Walter smirked. "Music is just math, like everything else in the universe. I can't help it if the artists you enjoy have an insufficient grasp of the concept."
The liaison slapped him playfully on his arm, pulling back abruptly as he winced. "I'm sorry. Does it still hurt?"
"A little," Walter admitted with a grimace, rotating his shoulder until the sting passed. "Not as bad as I was expecting. It's mostly just a bruise now."
"Getting shot hurt less than you were expecting?"
"Technically I was just shot at," the genius rebutted, giving her a mischievous grin. She bent her fingers and flicked his leg in retaliation. "Ow."
"Please." Paige scrolled through the options on her iPod and settled on a pop song that Walter had never heard and quickly tuned out anyway. He snuck a glimpse of her as she shifted in her seat and leaned her head against the window, focusing on the scorched scenery around them.
He expected her to shut her eyes and fall asleep, but after nearly twenty minutes, she was still staring out the window with quiet intensity. Walter hazarded to break the silence. "Is something wrong?"
Paige's eyes widened as she turned to him, her train of thought clearly interrupted. She smoothed back her hair with one hand and rested her elbow on the door. "I'm fine. Why?"
Walter's hands tightened on the wheel as he checked the traffic—hardly any on the long stretch of desert highway—before angling his head toward her. "Your eyes are glazed and your shoulders have tensed up. Something appears to be…on your mind."
"Oh." Paige knitted her eyebrows and pressed her lips together. "Just thinking about what it'll be like to see my mom."
"And…?" he prompted cautiously. Walter was frequently stumped about what exactly to say to Paige when she was upset, but he'd learned that she responded openly as long as he showed interest in listening.
The liaison reached over and pulled his hand off the wheel, gripping it in hers. He laced their fingers and squeezed her palm. "Why am I so nervous about this? We've faced much scarier circumstances than a weekend with my mother."
Walter drifted his thumb over her knuckles. "Family is…hard. But you already spoke to her on the phone. The ice is broken, at least, right?"
"Yeah, but that's the phone. What if...?" Paige sighed. "What if seeing me in person stirs up all of these difficult memories for her? What if seeing her stirs them up for me?"
The genius considered her question before responding delicately, "I think that those memories are always present for you. Likely for your mother too. Seeing her and trying to work through your past disagreements is unlikely to cause you any more pain and anxiety than you've already experienced."
Paige let out a breathy laugh as she wiped the first hints of tears away from her eyes. "That was…surprisingly intuitive, Walter."
The genius looked over at Ralph, who was curled up in the backseat fast asleep. He thought about how fortunate the young boy was to have a mother who could teach him to process and channel his emotions so that he wouldn't waste years like Walter did, being afraid of how deeply certain things affected him. His eyes traveled back to Paige. "Whatever happens, we can handle it," he said with conviction, the corner of his mouth turning up. "You can handle it, Paige. You're the strongest person I know."
"I'm not sure I'm ready for this," Paige said shakily, reaching out to grip Walter's forearm.
"We just drove for six hours. I need a snack," Ralph said matter-of-factly.
Walter rubbed small circles on her back and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You're ready, Paige. Breathe."
The liaison followed his instruction and inhaled deeply. Taking hesitant steps forward, she made her way down the stone path leading to the front door, which was painted vibrant blue. She extended her arm and hovered her fist over the door, unable to complete the action. Walter sighed and knocked for her, purposefully ignoring the annoyance in her expression.
Walter immediately noticed the resemblance as Paige's mother pulled open the door. Despite the differences in their coloring—the older woman had dark red hair and blue eyes—there was a distinct familiarity about her bone structure, the way she held herself, and her voice when she said Paige's name in a near whisper.
Walter and Ralph moved back as her mother stepped forward and pulled Paige into a tight embrace, catching the liaison by surprise. When she pulled back, they both shared a weak laugh and blinked back tears. Catching sight of Ralph, she bent down and hugged him too, not appearing to notice or care when the young genius kept his arms pinned to his sides.
"I'm so glad you're here, honey." The woman placed her hands on Paige's face and brushed back her hair.
"Me too," she answered, swallowing hard. "Anyway, uh, you know about Ralph." She motioned to her son and then shot Walter a quick smile. "And this is my boyfriend, Walter."
"I'm Angela." He felt a small spark of relief as he shook her hand. So far, everything was going according to plan. There was nothing for either of them to worry about. "Come in, please," she insisted, motioning for them to step inside.
Walter rested one hand on Paige's arm and the other on Ralph's shoulder as they filed into the foyer. The genius decided to do something that he knew Paige would appreciate and said, "Thank you for allowing us to stay in your home."
He internally congratulated himself on his effort until Angela narrowed her eyes. "Family is always welcome here," she said in a tense voice, giving him a look that he could only describe as dirty before shutting the door behind them and announcing in an overly cheerful tone, "Who wants something to drink?"
Suddenly he didn't feel so confident.
