Quick reminder that in this, FP and Gladys (Jughead and Jellybean's mum) are divorced.
Further notes at the end of chapter
xxxx
Throughout his life, and most certainly during his budding writing career – if it could be called that – Jughead had often heard of the term "waited with bated breath". Heck, he'd even used it in his work more times than he would've liked to admit. It was just one of those expressions that people used to convey feelings of anticipation, for feelings of oncoming dread, anxiety and nervousness. He certainly hadn't necessarily given the phrase that much in-depth consideration whenever he'd used it, most probably mundanely sipping on a coffee as he did so.
He felt that he had severely underestimated the connotations of that expression in those short moments of watching his phone dial Halona Ridgemount's number. A mental note was made to remember everything he felt, during his first time completely and utterly appreciating what that term summed up.
The stale tang in his mouth. The way his tongue felt heavy and thick, sitting dryly in metallic spit. The heightened conscious need to swallow. The sting of his chapped lips as he licked them. The cool air catching in the raw, exposed areas were he'd bitten his lip too hard. The way the spiralling dust of the desolate trailer seemed to halt, preserving the two of them in the agonising state of anticipation.
Perhaps it was a wariness of the unknown. After all, all his life there had been let down after let down, Bad News which was only followed up with Even Worse News. But he'd always more or less known what to expect. Jughead prided himself for being an outsider, an observer, perhaps a little more than was strictly accurate at this stage in the game, and always relied on his ability to read people. To develop an understanding for their thought processes, how they worked, how they thought. Considerably harder to apply to with someone he'd met once for a milkshake a little over three years ago.
Of course, in a brief address to a fourth wall, this wasn't an irrational reaction. Between strictly just between the audience and myself, I take this moment to confide that this was the moment that fractured our dear character's fates into considerably unknown terrain. Probably best be seen as crossroads in a visual example. One road, where Betty and Jughead simply don't dial the number, deciding that it was probably for the best that they didn't interfere and bring more people into the decidedly infuriating game of Who killed Jason Blossom?
And of course, the other road, where our dear sleuth's thirst for knowledge, and answers to countless open questions, pressed the 'call' button for Halona Ridgemount. And thus follows their uneasiness of the unprecedented unknown, and a list of endless possible aftermaths, to this one isolated phone call.
The ringing stopped. Those little numbers that showed the duration of a phone call started to tick, counting 00:01, 00:02, 00:03. The crackle of the line grated in his ear drums viscerally.
"Hello?" a voice on the other line inquired.
Jughead fiddled with his phone for a moment, hitting speaker phone.
"Uh..." his tongue felt heavy and useless as he tried to encourage it to form comprehendible words. Typical, just when he needed to speak, is words failed him. He cleared his pathetically dry throat, and flashed Betty a grateful look at her reassuring expression.
"Hi, um, is this Halona?"
After a beat of silence, he followed up with "Halona Ridgemount?"
The voice on the on the other line went quiet for a second, but still present, with their breathing being steadily caught in the crackle of phone waves.
"Who is asking?"
It was hard to determine the owner of the voice, as Jughead struggled to hear if it was her or not. His efforts proved to be fairly futile, as the voice could've easily belonged to any well spoken personage of an adult status.
"Uh, Jughead Jones?" There, was that a hitch in their breath? Did they recognise his name? Was it surprise from an unusual name? Was it just the God-awful phone line?
"I'm also known as Forsythe Pendelton-"
"Pentelton Jones III," the voice finished. Jughead's chin jerked to face Betty, eyes bright.
'Is it her?' she mouthed. Jughead shrugged uncertainly. Maybe? Because they knew his full name?
The phone hung up.
"Oh." Jughead blinked at it, surprised. "Well, I didn't expect th-"
His phone brightly buzzed to life, catching him off guard, and causing him to almost drop the damn thing. Betty tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her snort of laughter at his reaction.
'Unknown Number is calling for FaceTime'
"Oh!" Betty exclaimed, letting out a breath that she must have been holding.
"I just thought they were being rude or something."
He tapped 'accept'. This gave him approximately less than a second to haphazardly prop his phone up on the kitchen counter to before the phone's black screen lit up.
A young woman's face popped up, short copper curls coiling around her ears, with a scrutinizing expression etched across her striking features. Despite the years it had been since the two had met, the iconic cream shawl and meticulous lipstick were still very much in place, and confirmed her identity.
"Halona?"
Her dubious gaze quickly melted into a heart-warming grin.
"Well if it isn't little Jughead Jones, all grown up!" She shot them a bashful smile.
"My deepest apologies for the impromptu video call, but I had to determine it was you."
Jughead furrowed his eyebrows. "Exactly how many Jugheads, nay, Forsthye Pendelton Jones' do you know?"
She shifted in her chair, causing the screen to glitch for a moment. "It's been a weird day." Leaning forward, she laced her fingers and averted her attention to Betty.
"But you simply must introduce me to this absolute charming lady sat next to you."
Betty reached towards the phone, in the apparent instinctual need to shake Halona's hand, before realising her mistake, and quickly retracting her hand.
"Betty, this is Halona Ridgemount. Halona, Betty Cooper," Jughead hastily introduced. "But what did you mean that it was a weird day?"
She raised an eyebrow at that. "Seriously? I really doubt that you'd call out of the blue after three years if this wasn't something to do with your morbid curiosity and why Forsythe called me earlier."
It took Jughead an embarrassingly long second to realise that she referred to FP with his full first name. She spread her hands.
"Why not just ask him? I take that he's around, yes?"
Betty nudged Jughead hard, eyes flashing scepticism, ever so slightly inclining her head towards his phone. Yet another flawless demonstration of 'The Blue and Gold' dialect of body language. See translation: Tread carefully or alternatively I think we know something they don't. Handily (or not so), both definitions applied to the situation at hand.
Just as he was about to ask why exactly why she thought FP was amiably wandering around, when a loud thud echoed from Halona's side of the conversation. She shot up from her chair. "I'm so sorry, I'll be right back."
Once her slightly pixelated figure exited the screen, Betty whispered. "I don't think FP told her where he is at this current moment."
Jughead groaned in annoyance. "But the number was meant for emergencies, which he never used anyway. And what this would imply is that he just called her out of the blue for, what, a chat? A friendly catch up? It doesn't make sense."
"And that is why," Betty countered calmly, placing a hand atop his, which had curled into a fist in frustration. "We are phoning in the first place. To find out what he did call her about, why he called her. The facts are what is going to help us find out what FP's reasons are for bringing Halona into the equation. But we need to tell her about your dad first, Juggie."
"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "But what do we say? 'Hey, I know I just called you after three years, but by the way, your ex-boyfriend has been arrested for murder and we don't think he did it? No! We have literally no evidence to back this up, just my instinct'."
"What was that about your instinct?"
Halona had reappeared on screen. However, this time, a pudgy toddler was sat upon her lap, gurgling happily and waving a sticky fist around wildly. Jughead almost choked on his own breath.
"Halona...is that...?"
She grinned, though it was a bit feeble and she looked a little guilty. "If I recall correctly, I did say I wasn't making any promises about any half brothers or sisters."
Kissing the top of the short, wild locks of the toddler, she spoke softly.
"Max, this is your older brother, Jughead."
"'Ughea'!" The kid cried, squealing gleefully as his mother blew a raspberry on his cheek.
"Good job!" she cheered, passing him an obnoxiously rattling toy to keep him happy, as she turned her attention back to the two stunned teens.
"That's...my younger brother?" Jughead whispered, a subconscious finger hovering just above the video screen in awe. "You and dad...how did he react."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the conversation, as Halona winced slightly. "Ah, um, about that-"
"You haven't told him," Jughead said flatly.
"It's not that I didn't want to!" she quickly clarified. "God, did I want to, but we agreed no contact, and I thought it was for the best. And then when he called today, I thought, well, here's my chance, but you know how his is, Jug."
She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I know he'd think that he's ruined my future, or something, that somehow everything is his fault, and how responsible he'd feel, and I just..." she trailed off, squirming in her chair as Max started to chew on one of her curls. "I thought it was for the best. And we've been alright, haven't we, Maxy?"
Max enthusiastically garbled, now waving two sticky fists, bits of copper hair still damp in his mouth.
Betty looked at Jughead, her open expression asking for permission to break the news. A sort of unsaid agreement passed between the two of them, while Halona cooed at Max. Now or never.
"Miss Ridgemount," Betty started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She always did that when she slipped into her professional persona, Jughead observed.
"Halona, please."
"Halona." Jughead slipped his hands into hers, gently pushing her fingers away from were they had just ever so slightly started to curl into fists.
"Do you know where FP is at this current moment?"
The young woman in question frowned. "Is it important that I should?"
"Yes," Betty clarified. "I'm afraid it is."
Halona tilted her head a fraction to the side, before shaking it slowly. "I'm afraid not. When he called, he mentioned he was pressed for time, but he didn't disclose his location."
Betty bit her lip. "I'm sorry to be the one to have to break it to you, but he is currently being held at the Sheriff's station."
She lowered her eyes. "He's been arrested for the murder of Jason Blossom."
xxxx
I'm not sure if you've ever received such news as that. To hear that a loved one, who you thought you knew so perfectly, had done something so atrocious, so inhumane.
It was as though time itself had stopped. Halona felt as though the entirety of the universe had frozen around her. In her dorm room, Max's weight was still heavy on her lap, but now with a more numbing effect than comforting. In a distant corner of her mind, a isolated thought drifted around, wondering if Jughead had felt like this too, when he's heard the news.
It had been too long since she'd seen Forsythe for the last time in that trailer. Too long since she had felt the rough texture of stubble as she held his face. Too long since she'd made his hand close around her ribbon – perhaps a trivial action in the eyes of some, but she knew that he would understand what that meant to her.
It had been too long since she'd been driving home one day, and had to pull over to throw up. Too long since she'd seen the little pink plus sign, revealed in the dingy lighting of a store's back toilet.
The saying went that people changed as the time did. But to make the turn to murder? Of course she knew of his brushing with the law; she'd always known. But she trusted him. She trusted her knowledge of him. He wouldn't've.
Halona shook her head, silently cursing herself for how her waterline was starting to get thicker. She held Max closer, as if in the irrational fear that hearing his father was under arrest would mean someone was going to suddenly snatch him away from her.
"No." Was that her voice? It was hardly more than a croak. "No, he wouldn't..."
"And I don't think he has either," Jughead contributed, tapping his spindly long fingers in an erratic beat on the table top. The internet connection must have been dodgy on his side as, in the video, the sound was out of synch with his movements. It didn't help with the disorientation from the sudden declaration that her ex-lover she hadn't heard from in years had been arrested for murder.
"What?" she asked, exasperated.
The blonde girl, Betty, piped up. "He's been arrested, but we believe he's covering for someone." There was another jolt of a glitch as Betty flicked a glance at Jughead, ponytail bouncing.
"And we'd like to try to find out what he's covering up and why."
It was all starting to click into place now.
"Oh..." Halona said, feeling her neck involuntarily nodding slowly. "So you're both phoning to ask what he called me about?"
"Yes," they both said at the same time. Halona involuntarily raised her eyebrow a fraction. It was bizarre watching the two of them work together, both utterly in synch with each others movements and wavelengths.
Although Jughead had definitely hit puberty and was no longer quite the tangle of gangly limbs he'd been when she'd last seen him, he still possessed his brooding qualities with that intense stare that he was fixing her right now. Put Little Miss Betty Cooper into the mix, whose pastel delight of an ensemble certainly clashed thematically with her partner in crime, and you've practically dreamed up the ideal TV police sitcom duo of squabbling colleges.
But the two worked off each other in such a blunt way that Halona had scarcely seen in professional spheres, let alone high school students, that she couldn't help but be impressed.
"I'm not the first to have come under the inquisition of Betty and Jughead, am I?" she teased lightly, taking the opportunity to move away from the fact the Forsythe was in jail with both hands. Neither of them smiled, evidently concerning their primary focus to the task at hand. Fair enough, Halona thought. She blew a frizzy curl out of her face.
"Admittedly, it was quite strange, hearing from Forsythe after no communication for a good three years." Her mind drifted back to when her phone had vibrated to life in her pocket, recounting how surprised she was to hear it was him that she nearly fell of her chair. "I guess he finally got around that godforsaken pride of his."
xxxx
Unknown Number: Accept / Decline.
Accept. Connecting...
"Hello?"
"Halona...it's been a while."
Mouth dry. Shallow vision. And all from that stupidly endearing gravely voice. Typical.
"Speaking?"
She knew full well who was speaking.
"It's Forsythe. But you knew that."
"I thought it best to check. Three years can do a lot to a person."
"Not that you've been keepin' track or somethin'."
"Of course not."
Deep breath. "Listen, Hal, I don't have much time-"
"Give a man your number and he'll keep it for three years, then pick the time to call when he doesn't have much of it."
"You know me, great timin'."
"Impeccable." More deep breaths. Crackling silence. "So... what is it?"
"You, um... you been doin' okay?"
"And then follows up informing me that he is pressed for time with the impending topic that he chooses to grace me with is idle chit chat. I really know how to pick 'em."
"Please, Hal, it's..." Swallows. "It's really important that you answer that."
"Forsythe...is something wrong? Are you okay? What's going on?"
"I'm good, Hal, I just need to know if you've been doin' alright."
"Uh...yeah. I guess." Perhaps not the best moment to inform of one more addition to the Jones' lineage.
"You sure? You ain't been through anythin'...weird, or nothin'?"
"Forsythe, would there be any particular reason why I would be exposed to anything 'weird'?"
"No! No, just...want to make sure you've been doin' good."
"Well...I have. And yourself?"
"I'm good, Hal. Really, I am. Hearin' your voice after..."
Thick swallow. Sigh. "It's nice talkin' to you. I've missed you."
"Me too, Jones. God knows, me too." Blink hard. You won't cry, don't be silly.
"Listen, Hal, could I ask a favour?"
"Ah, there it is. I was waiting for a request."
"You think I called you only for that?"
"Well, I didn't think you'd call for just a chat."
"If I recite a number, can you call it?"
"Well, I should certainly should hope so. I can't think of any other use of phone number, though Lord knows I've spend many good years theorising."
"I'm serious, Hal."
"Who said I was joking."
"The number is **** *** ***. You got that?"
"Last three digits again?"
"*-*-*"
"Okay, got it."
"Right, so call it, and tell the kid on the other side that you work for FP. Say 'Blossom Maple Farm Billboard' and he'll know I've sent you. His name is Joaquin. Tell him to forget the plan. It's really important to tell him, with those exact words, to forget the plan."
"Yessir."
Hitch of breath. "Don't- don't call me sir."
"Am I making you feel uncomfortable...sir?" Husky voice. Strained swallow on the other line.
"Very much so, Halona."
"Good. So, call **** *** *-*-*, the kid is Joaquin, Blossom Maple Farm Billboard, 'forget the plan'. Anything I miss?"
"No, that's it. Thank you. Really, thank you." Murmurs. Footsteps.
"Listen, Hal, I gotta go. God, I wish I could keep speakin' with you, but I really can't talk any longer."
"You never did have a knack with timing, Forsythe. Or goodbyes."
"Seems that's stayed with me since I saw you last then." Deep breath. More footsteps. Rushed, lowered voice now.
"I know it's been years, and you've probably moved on, but I never said it. I always meant to. Honest, I always meant to."
Breath. "I lo-"
Unknown Number has hung up. End of call.
xxxx
"That was it?" Jughead asked in disbelief, trying to hide his disappointment. None of what Halona had detailed to them constituted as rock hard evidence of, well...anything. Except for one thing. Betty took the lead.
"Miss Ridg-, Halona. When you mentioned a kid called Joaquin, did you mean Joaquin DeSantos?"
The woman on the other line frowned, eyes fixed to the top of her son's head, fingers gently smoothing his hair in a nurturing manner that only a mother knows how. "I don't know. I'm sorry, but neither parties gave a last name. Is it important?"
Jughead considered the explanation it would take to try to explain how Kevin's boyfriend was potentially involved, but decided against it.
"Sort of. Long story. What did Joaquin say when you called?"
She shrugged. "Nothing, really. Maybe a 'got it' before hanging up, but nothing about whatever plan Forsythe was referring to." After a beat of silence of anticipation from both side, Halona continued.
"Anything else you kids want to know?"
Just as Jughead was about to decline and thank her, a rogue thought popped into his head. "Oh, I almost forgot. Halona, when you came here last, you were staying with the Blossoms. Was there anything... unusual going on? With the Blossoms, I mean?"
She clicked her tongue in response. "Sorry, we didn't actually stay with them. Us Ridgemounts have been dealing with the Blossoms for generations, so we actually have a smaller property located in Riverdale, which is where we stayed.
"As for the family itself... its hard to say. Only met them a handful of time, and it was over a good three years ago. Details are a bit hazy, but I don't remember anything particularly unusual."
She looked at the ground apologetically. "Sorry, I know that's not much use."
There were many times where Jughead was grateful for a certain Miss Betty Cooper being his partner in crime. Admittedly, many of those times were when they were sharing kisses in the Blue and Gold office, where they remained the sole two writers. However, Betty was undoubtedly far more of a "people-person" than he was, and tended to always get a situation under control where emotions rung amok.
Had Jughead been the sole handler of such a situation, it was safe to say that emotions would run right into hysteria rather than tone down to something calmer.
Betty smiled reassuringly at Halona, who was currently trying to convince toddler Max to exchange her wallet for a pacifier. "Halona, all your contributions have been highly useful. Thank you so much for everything."
Halona nodded, not looking entirely convinced, and stuck the pacifier into Max'x mouth. "Before you go, could you promise me something? Keep me up to date with Forsythe's situation, please?"
"Of course."
Digging into her pocket, Halona flicked open a battered looking, old fashioned wrist-watch (Jughead had no idea why it wasn't just on her wrist) and chewed her lip. "It's getting late. I should probably get going. After all, Jughead, don't you have a long journey."
"Uh..." The two sleuthers exchanged confused expressions. "It's only four o' clock. And why would I have a long journey?"
"Because you're mom is in Toledo..." Halona started slowly. Fortunately, her tone of voice was simply hesitant, rather than condescending. "Are you not staying with her? With Forsythe in police custody?"
Jughead winced involuntarily slightly at the mention of her. "No, she expressed quite clearly how she doesn't have enough room at the moment."
A polite way of phrasing that not even his own mother wanted to be burdened with her son. That seemed to be a reoccurring theme throughout his life, he reflected numbly, his mouth flooding with a bitter taste. Wherever he went, whoever he was with, sooner or later he became just another burden to them. Possibly the only silver lining to when he was homeless; at least he wasn't another weight on somebody else.
Halona raised her eyebrow, incredulous. "You're not serious."
"Yup."
Halona lent back in her chair, causing Max on her lap to whine. "Jesus."
Then, she appeared to go very white. "Wait, who are you staying with instead?"
Jughead crinkled his brow. "Uh, Archie, my best friend. Why, is it important?"
Halona's lips had transformed into a thin, rigid line, eyes completely void of any form of humour. "I'm studying Law at the moment, which has specifically covered custody law. How long have you been living with Archie?"
He quickly totted up the weeks in a crudely crafted mental calendar.
"Month, month and a half roughly."
"Is this a long term plan?"
His mind flashed with the conversation her overheard between Archie and Fred Andrews. Similar to his musings concerning his mother, this left a slightly sour taste in his mouth. "No."
"Right, so is Archie's dad considering, say, initiating a long term plan? Specifically speaking, do you think he's going to get authorities, social services involved in your case."
"Yeah, I think so, I heard him talking about it."
"Shit," she whispered. "Shit."
Betty frowned, concerned. "Uh, that a bad thing?"
Unfortunately for her, she found herself addressing little Max, as his mother had leapt up out of her chair, and they could only a blurry image of her outline dashing to the other side of her room and typing something into a laptop. This warranted another 'shit'. Little Max flashed them both a toothy grin, and giggled.
"Jughead, you are most likely going to get a social worker." Halona's voice was garbled with connectivity issues as she hastily went into an explanation, pulling out armfuls of clothes from her closet, then stuffing them into a small bag. He wasn't entirely sure as to why she had decided to spontaneously pack for a holiday in the middle of their conversation, but, to each their own.
"If both of your parent's are deemed unfit guardians, then you'll get put into the fostering system. Taking that your mother is correct about no suitable living space with her, you wouldn't be put there anyway. Any family deemed fit for fostering will be your first placement. But, unfortunately, the whole process to become fit for fostering is unbelievably long, like, we're talking two years here. What this means is that there are reduced numbers of families who are actually deemed qualified to foster kids by social services .
"However, they usually go for much younger kids, like toddlers or babies. Chances of fostering get extremely slim above the age of thirteen. If your social worker can't find you a suitable family, the you'll go to a foster home."
"Hold up," Jughead said, processing all that she was saying. The twinge of nausea that he seemed to be ever so well acquainted with that day was slowly returning, uncomfortably twisting in his gut. Betty snuck her hand into his.
"Does this mean that Fred won't be able to be my legal guardian?"
All he could see was a bounce of, fairly pixilated, copper curls, which he ingeniously interpreted to be a nod.
"Unless he's been through the required training to be deemed fit to foster, then yes."
"Is the foster home in Riverdale that bad if you kept saying shit?"
"You could say that," Halona agreed. "Considering that it doesn't exist."
It should come as no surprise that the twinge in his gut only increased as he was following more and more as to what she was saying.
"Nearest one is how far away exactly?" he asked, mouth bearing more resemblance to a sandpit at this point.
"Knightdale." It didn't ring any bells. That was worrying.
"Which is three towns over." Definitely worrying.
"It's practically out of state, at this point."
"So, because my dad was arrested for something he didn't do, I'm gonna be kicked out to another town that's miles away." That depressingly pathetic tone of voice was back, and Jugehad hated how bitter it tasted in his sandpit-of-a-mouth.
"No, it's not fair." A large zipping noise made the connection crackle, as Halona dumped the, now bulging, bag at her feet, and her face appeared back on screen. "But I might be able to help. I have an idea in terms of custody that should keep you in Riverdale."
She reached out to the screen, her fingertips a breath away from endearingly brushing the screen. "You're a smart kid, Jug. In terms of education, it's in your best interest to not move you to a new environment, or a new school for that matter. I can't let that happen."
She straightened up. "But one thing at a time. I can do all that once I get there."
Betty took a sharp intake of breath. "Get there?" she repeated.
"I'm coming to Riverdale," Halona concluded. "Call me if you need me."
And with that, Jughead's phone screen went dark as she hung up.
xxxx
NOTES:
Apologies for such an unprecedented amount of times between updates – I've been hopping all around the blooming place recently with being on holiday.
While the actual fostering information has not being properly researched, all the stuff Halona explains towards the end of this chapter is based of my, admittedly limited, knowledge of the foster-care system. Primarily Jaqueline Wilson books. Although all this is very UK centred; I am less informed about how the system works in the USA, specifically to how laws may change depending on the state.
Any thoughts, comments or concerns are welcome x
- Alex