Jack decides to go for a Saturday-morning jog. I sit home and sip coffee, because frankly, some alone time is refreshing. When we got together, I sought his company all the time – except for moments like using the bathroom and such – because then, I wanted to starve away the loneliness. And now, spending a morning or an afternoon without Jack doesn't bother me anymore. I still love him and I'm still happy to see him when he comes back, but I don't feel empty – and maybe that's because I know that he will come back.
I'm about to "find out" what happens to Mowgli – because of course, I already know – when I hear a faint knock on the door.
Jack doesn't need to knock…who else would it be? Tania, maybe? She's probably seen me come in and out enough to know that this is where I live. I go answer the door.
It's not Tania, but Jeb. He gives me an awkward smile. "Hi," he says.
"Hi, Jeb," I say, trying to smile back but feeling too confused.
"Can I talk to you?"
"Um, sure – come on in." I open the door further and step out of the way. "What's this about?" Wow, that sounded kind of snotty. "I mean…" I say, flushing.
Jeb comes into the hallway and turns to me, twiddling his thumbs. "No, it's okay," he says. "I understand. Uh…I'm feeling awkward, too. I came here with a list of questions that I was supposed to ask and now I can't remember any of them."
…Huh? "I'm not following you," I say, frowning. A good hostess would offer coffee or something, but now I'm feeling on edge…
Jeb seems conflicted. He opens his mouth and closes it, and then he laughs. "Okay, look. I never expected to be a parent. And I'm not. I'm just her uncle, but god, I love her to death, and…" He rubs the back of his neck, smiling wryly. "I'm making a fool of myself, aren't I?"
"Only half a fool," I say. "I'd feel much better if you just came out and say what's bothering you."
Shock flashes across his face, but then it's gone in nanoseconds. "It's about Tania," he says slowly.
"Is she okay?"
"Ehh…" He waves his hand in a so-so manner. "She's fine, physically, and she's getting there mentally…oh god, that sounded awful…"
"Jeb?" I press.
"Right. Um. You've been spending a lot of time with Tania, right?"
"Yes," I say, nodding.
"Well…uh…why?" He says the last word bluntly, then scrunches up his forehead as though that wasn't what he meant to say.
Suddenly, it starts to click. "Oh!" I say, my eyes widening.
"Not that she shouldn't be interacting with others, but it's just, you're not her age – I don't mean to say you're old," he says, laughing uneasily. "It's just that this is unusual and…well, I just want to make sure she doesn't get hurt." He looks like he's going to tack another "not that I think…" on the end of that, but then he closes his mouth tightly and…
Honestly, he looks quite pained. I can't bite back a chuckle. I clamp my hand down on my mouth and snort another chuckle. Lifting my hand only enough to speak, I say, "I'm sorry. I know this isn't funny." Damn right it isn't funny. I'd ask how he could possibly think I'd ever want to hurt her, but I know enough of the world to know that sometimes people do that, and that it's every parent or guardian's duty to prevent it at all costs.
Jeb seems to relax a little. "I'm sorry, too," he says. "I'm a mess. I don't know how to raise a kid, but I can't imagine my life without her, you know? In just a couple short years, even as surly and untrusting as she is, Tania wormed her way into my heart, and I can't bear the thought of her living with anyone else." He smiles. "But I still have no idea what I'm doing."
"Neither do I, half the time," I say. "Jack's granddaughter is precious, but I'm always walking on eggshells, wondering when I'm going to say or do the wrong thing."
"Yeah?" Jeb says.
"Yeah." I smile at him. "I'm not going to hurt your niece, Jeb."
"I didn't really think you would," he says, sighing. "I'm sorry I barged in here and started questioning you like a bumbling buffoon."
"I'm sorry that, in this day and age, you have to," I say somberly.
"Yeah…"
"Your first priority is your niece's well-being. I get that," I say. "That's important."
"So…I'm just wondering. Why are you spending so much time with her, if you're not a psycho child molester?" he says, his lips curling into a half smile.
"To be honest, I see a lot of myself in her. I don't want her to regret that wall of lonesomeness she's built around herself."
"You were like her, once?" he says. His eyes widen slightly. I nod. "So you were…"
"I wasn't abused by my father, if that's what you're asking," I say, my metaphorical feathers ruffling.
"Sorry," he says.
Remembering that he couldn't possibly have known what a loving father I had, and noting that it was an obvious conclusion based on the vagueness of my reply, I bite my lip. "I did go through some bad things with some pretty bad people," I admit. Jeb's expression goes from apologetic to attentive. "I can't tell you most…actually, any of it, because it's classified information."
"You can't tell anyone?" he says. "Not even a psychologist?"
"A government psychologist, yes," I say, "but not a civilian one. They have to be cleared with high security clearance."
He whistles and nods. "So what were you?"
"I was an FBI agent for a number of years," I say.
Jeb nods at this information. "Well, I feel better knowing that the first person my niece is opening up to was once an FBI agent!" he says, laughing.
I remember how Stephen reacted when Jack asked me to guard his family. "I get that a lot," I say.
"Oh!" I say.
"I thought you'd like them," Jack says. His smile is that small, pleasant one, but I can tell that he's secretly enjoying himself.
The flowers are soft pink azaleas. My heart seems to beat more quietly in mutual awe, and I feel my lips curl up in a smile. I bring the bouquet to my nose and breathe in. They smell wonderful. "Thank you," I say.
Jack kisses my cheek. "You're welcome," he murmurs in his gravelly voice. He laughs in a shaky voice, a tired voice that's a testament to how hard he ran this morning. "I'm all sweaty," he says. "I'm going to go get a shower."
"And I'll put these in a vase," I say. There's a dark purple vase under the count…er…
"It was you!" I exclaim, feeling stupid that I hadn't figured it out before.
Jack turns in the hallway. "What's that?" he says.
I whirl around. "You were the one that sent me the flowers in the hospital!"
He shrugs offhandedly. "Yeah," he says, looking away briefly.
My amazement subsides for a moment. Well, that discovery isn't as earthshaking as it seemed half a moment ago. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask curiously.
He shrugs offhandedly again. "It didn't seem important," he says.
"Well… Thank you."
"You already thanked me," he says.
"I did for these flowers. Now I'm thanking you for the first ones."
Jack smiles. "You don't have to."
"Yes I do. I didn't before."
"You didn't know before."
I smile, and pluck one of the flowers from the bouquet, twirling it between my fingers and touching the flower lightly to my lips. "But I do now."
The flowers need somewhere with sunshine, so I place the vase on the desk in the second bedroom, which is right in front of a window. I'm so glad we chose a corner apartment. The placement means more windows, which makes it more open and airy.
I'm just finishing an email to Janice when I hear something behind me. I turn, placing my arm along the backrest of the borrowed kitchen chair, and see Jack leaning in the doorway, smiling. "How long have you been standing there?" I say.
He comes up to me, and bends over, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "Not long," he says. He smells like pine.
"Is that a new aftershave?" I say, my fingers brushing his jaw.
"Mmm-hmm," he mumbles, his mouth too busy pressing against my neck to give me an actual worded answer. What a fine distraction.
"C'mere," I chuckle, pulling his head up so that the next things he kisses are my lips.
"Find anything?" Jack asks.
Since it's been a year or more since I went book-browsing, I suggested the only type of shopping I like: the kind done at Borders. There's something cathartic about being in a store of books. You don't have to find a book that fits, you don't have to ponder the choice between the $800 oak desk and the $3,000 equivalent, you don't have to worry about whether it can be tumble-dried or if it needs dry-cleaning…
"No, just looking," I say, pulling down a mystery hardcover to look at.
Jack squeezes himself strategically against the shelf, so I look up and see his raised eyebrows. "Hey, you bought me flowers this morning," I say. "Don't pester me to find something to buy or I'll get riled, and this is supposed to be relaxing."
I swear he almost rolled his eyes at that one. "I'm going to go look at magazines," he says, dropping a kiss on my brow. "Meet you in the Starbucks?"
"I thought they only had those in Barnes and Nobles stores?" I say.
"I guess Borders caught on a few years ago," Jack says, shrugging. "But the mocha coconut frappuccino is good."
Something about Jack saying "mocha coconut frappuccino" sounds funny. I snort. "Okay," I say.
"What?" he says, puzzled.
I can imagine him grabbing the server and pulling him over by the counter, shouting, "This is vital to this nation's security! I need a mocha coconut frappuccino STAT!"
"What?" he repeats when I put my hand over my mouth to cover my giggle. (Chuckle. Damnit.)
"Nothing," I say, putting the book back. "I'll meet you over there." I kiss his lips softly. His lips curl into a smile to match mine. All feels well.
Writer's Note: Hmm! All is well...
