AN: OMG! You guys are awesome! I knew that if I didn't have a cliffhanger, you'd review more. And I was right! Lol. Anyways, I wanted to thank you all for reading and reviewing (you know who you are). You all rock!
On another note, I just realized that it was my 1-year anniversary (being on this site). OK, it really was a few days ago, but anyways, YEA ME!!!! Lol. I never thought that I'd be here this long, but it is soooo cool!
Special ANs:
judetomfan101, I'm so glad you loved it. And thanks for always reviewing. I know I can always count on getting a review from you :o).
Ally, your review made me laugh. So no more cliffhangers until you say (or until it comes to a point where a cliffhanger would be good). But there definitely won't be one in this chapter.
Chloe, you're so nice! I was trying to figure out how to write this chapter, which is why it took so long for me to get it up. I must've written it 4 different ways before posting it up. I just hope you like what I've written.
Tanya, that's OK. I know how the site can be (sometimes it's impossible to post, since everyone's posting at the same time, or the server's down/slow, or for whatever reason). And I hope you're feeling better (though by now you probably are, since it's taken me forever to get this up here!)
jude-and-tommy-4eva-summer-bay, YOU'RE the one who's amazing! I love a good Jommy too! And SME and Jacques just add a whole bunch of laughs to everything. Plus the occasional whack Sadie gives Kwest (poor guy!). I'm sure there's plenty more where that came from, so stay tuned!
Rachel, here you go. The long-awaited dinner scene. And thanks for letting me know I'm not diabolical or anything ;o)!
alwayswright, I know it's my story, but if I don't take my reader's suggestions, then the story won't be as good. So if you have any ideas, please keep them coming. I'll probably end up using them somewhere down the line (and I'll even credit you with the idea if I remember who suggested what).
lileigh, it's funny that you mention the whole Kwest/Portia thing. When I first saw Portia, I thought maybe she and Kwest had something between them. But it was never mentioned on the show, which makes me wonder if anything did happen.
Chapter 7 – The Pressure's On
Despite my parents' promise to not interrogate Jude, Jude slowly trudged toward the kitchen as if she were walking toward her death - by firing squad. I placed my hand in hers and gave it a small squeeze, but even though Jude acknowledged my support, she still looked as pale as a ghost.
Once we got inside the dining room, we were seated by Jacques and several other servants. Jacques seated Jude, saying, "There you go, miss," and gave her a big smile.
"Thank you, Jacques," Jude said, still trying to keep her wits about her.
"It's my pleasure, miss," Jacques said, as he instructed the others to bring the food in.
Jude was sitting next to Monique, which meant that she was in front of my mother. Chris was sitting across from Monique, but I knew he wouldn't try anything with Jude unless he wanted Monique to kick him under the table. Jude and Monique had bonded over Pop-Tarts, and were now very close, almost like real sisters.
"So, Jude, what do your parents do for a living?" my mother asked, as we began to eat.
Jude replied, "My father's an accountant, and my mother's a real-estate agent."
"Those are very respectable occupations," my dad said, trying to get into the conversation. The truth was, we didn't need any accountants or real-estate agents, because we had our own team of accountants and lawyers to take care of the family's estate and assets, and my parents weren't going to sell their estate now that they didn't need to work.
Jude let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, and had I not been so attuned to her every movement, I would've missed it.
Then my nosy brother Chris had to get into it. "And how did you get interested in the music business?"
All eyes were on Jude as she paused momentarily. "My sister had karate lessons, dance lessons, even horseback riding lessons. But ever since I can remember, I've always wanted to sing and perform in front of crowds. Every time we went out to eat, I'd be singing. My parents thought it was cute at first, and so did everyone else who saw me in the restaurant we were in. But Sadie, she always told me that no one wants to listen to a little kid screeching at the top of her lungs. So when we got home, I'd lock myself in my room, and line up my stuffed animals, and perform into my hairbrush just for them. And then when I was 10, I was still singing for everyone who wanted to hear it. My mom wasn't so much into it anymore, although she wasn't against it either, but my dad, he thought I should take it as far as I could go. So he got me my first guitar, and it's barely left my hands since then."
"And that's where you met Tommy," Monique sighed dreamily. "What a great love story."
"Monique," my dad said suddenly, and Monique quieted down instantly.
"So, Mr. and Mrs. Martin, where do you work?" Jude asked.
My mother answered politely, "I work with several charities to help the less fortunate, and Tommy's father used to work with the biggest law firm in the province. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, that is," my father said proudly. "I would still be the top attorney, but then my family insisted that I retire and make up for all the attention and love that I didn't give them growing up."
My POV: Especially me. You always praised Chris for being at the top of his class, for getting yet another reward or some sort of recognition for academic achievement or being the most likely to follow in your footsteps. And Monique, you let her get away with a lot of things, just because she's the baby in the family, as well as the only daughter. She's spoiled rotten just like a princess would be. But since I don't fit either of those descriptions, you always looked down on what I did. Mom was just like Jude's mom, supportive, but not all for what I was doing, how I was living my life. So I was left to fend for myself, while you made sure that everyone followed your example.
I ignored my thoughts and said, "But now you are."
My mom shot me a warning glance, as if to say, "That better not be a sarcastic remark," while my perfect brother smirked at her reaction. I gave my mom my signature innocent look, the one that let me get away with everything.
My dad looked at me, knowing exactly what I'd meant, and he looked at Jude sitting next to me. He nodded slowly, looking extremely tired and sympathetic, and said, "Tom, we've been through this before. I'm sorry that you never felt as supported by me as Chris and Monique, but I really didn't have the time to come to your performances."
My mom looked at us, shaking her head as if to get us to stop before causing a scene. But I wanted to have it out with him, once and for all.
"Did you really not have the time, or did you just blow it off because you thought it was a waste of time?" I said back, my temper beginning to flare.
"Tommy, honey, please, not here," My mother said, pleading with us to stop before it went any further.
Chris looked from my dad to me and back, clearly loving our argument, which was fast becoming WWIII.
"Uh, Chris, Jude?" Monique cut in. She knew when to intervene and leave us alone.
"Not now, Monique," Chris waved his hand at his sister. She scowled, then whacked him with a piece of French bread.
"HEY!" Chris exclaimed. But Jude was oblivious to their fight. She was watching me and my dad have it out.
"Mr. Martin, Tommy, if I may," Jude spoke up. My dad looked at her, wondering what she was going to say. She looked at me, and I nodded so that she could continue.
"Let's not spoil dinner for everyone by fighting over what happened so long ago. Let the past remain in the past, and let it go. You can't change anything, but the least you could do is make it better, right?" Jude looked at the both of us, and we knew she was right.
"Dad, I'm sorry. It's just…" I couldn't begin to describe the hurt I felt all those years before when I looked for my dad in the crowd, and he wasn't there. It was terrible, knowing that everyone in the group had their families and friends in the crowd, and most of the time, it was just my mom (except for when she couldn't make it).
"I know, son. I also know that there's nothing I can do to change what happened back then, but the least I could do is change what's happening now," my dad said, getting up and pulling me into a hug. He'd never hugged me before, let alone in front of Jude.
"Dad?" I said, stiffening and pulling back. "What's going on?" What I wanted to ask was why he was hugging me.
"Tommy, there's something we have to tell you," my mom answered for the both of them.
"What is it?" I said, looking around at all of them. Jude looked just as puzzled.
"Your father, he wants to help with your studio. Chris and Monique do too." My mom started smiling more broadly now, loving that everyone was beginning to act like part of a real family.
"Are you serious?" I said slowly. I couldn't believe it. It was as if everything was falling into place, piece by piece.
"Yes, I'm serious. You know, I did a little DJ'ing back in college. Many, many, many years ago." My dad said, smiling. Monique giggled at the thought of her ancient father being a D.J. I laughed inwardly as I saw the look on Chris' face.
"OK, then, you can have any position you want," I said. Being the type of man my father was, there was virtually no position in which he wouldn't be exceptional.
"I'm just happy to be part of your studio. What's it called again?" My dad asked. I'd never seen him so interested before, and it felt great.
"JQ Studios," I said, just as Jude answered, "Pop-Tart Studios."
"No way," I said as Jude's eyes narrowed. Monique came to Jude's defense and said, "Pop-Tart Studios. I love it!" Jude smiled at her, then turned back to glare at me.
"We're not going to name it Pop-Tart Studios," I assured Jude.
"Why not?" Jude shot back defensively.
"Reason 1? I don't want to be laughed out of the music industry. Reason 2? Pop-Tart Studios is going to be toast once Darius' studio is done burning it to a crisp," I quipped.
"Ha-ha," Jude rolled her eyes, and said, "Fine, we'll go with your idea then." She folded her arms across her chest, and looked positively steamed.
"I like JQ myself. What do you think?" my dad asked my mom.
"It's perfect," my mom said.
"I don't know, I think Martin and Co. sounds good," Chris said. He could be so practical sometimes. And boring.
"Yeah, maybe, if we were running a construction company," I joked. Chris fumed as everyone laughed at him.
"Fine, have it your way, Mr. Pop-Tart," my brother said angrily.
"Whatever you say, Mr. I've-got-a-rod-stuck-so-far-up-my-ss-that-it's-never-coming-out…" I was about to finish my sentence as my dad cleared his throat. He has this thing about not using foul language, as he calls it.
"Sorry," I said, even though I wasn't at all.
"Yeah, right," Chris muttered back. I grinned.
Then the desserts were brought out, and Jude and Monique attacked them like they were starving women. Poor desserts, they didn't stand a chance.
My parents, Chris, and I watched amused as Jude and Monique quickly gobbled up the chocolate mousse. I wonder how fast Jude would've eaten it had it been Pop-Tarts. Oh wait, I've already seen her do that. It's amazing how she crams those huge pastries down her throat without cutting off her oxygen supply. Then again, she does that whenever we kiss, so…
"Tommy?" Jude said, looking suggestively at me.
"What?" I said.
"It's time for bed. Everyone's gone up already," Jude said. I glanced around, and saw that she was right. I must've daydreamed about her for so long that I didn't hear everyone leave.
"So, do you want the guest room?" I offered. Jude looked dejected, but said, "OK, I guess."
We went upstairs, and tried to open the guest room door. It wouldn't budge.
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you. I wouldn't want stuff to come crashing down on top of me," Monique said, her eyes sparkling.
"What's in there?" I wondered.
"Oh, just some stuff I picked up when I went shopping last," Monique said. She walked away, smiling the whole time.
I pushed my weight against the door and got it open about an inch. I saw the room was stuffed.
"Maybe you can sleep in Monique's room," I said. Knowing my sister, her room would be a mess. We walked to Monique's room, and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Monique called out, although it sounded like she knew it was us.
"Monique, do you have some space on your…" Jude stopped in mid-sentence as she waded into Monique's room.
"OMG!" Jude said, as she tripped over a huge pile of clothes and fell into another.
"I guess not," I laughed as Jude tried to get up. Dozens of shirts and pants fell on her. She got up, looking like a huge dryer had just exploded, one that was full of clothes.
"That's not funny," Jude said, her cheeks beginning to redden with embarrassment. Monique and I looked at her and roared with laughter. Then Jude caught a glimpse of herself in Monique's full-length mirror, and said, "I guess the dryer monster got me, didn't he?"
"No, I guess Tommy'll just have to share his room with you," Monique said, pushing us out. "Have a good night, you two!" She winked before slamming the door and blasting the radio.
Once we got to my room, I turned to Jude. "I'll take the floor," I offered, trying to be nice. Jude was getting larger by the minute, but I didn't want her to think that.
"No, it's fine, we're adults, we can sleep in the same bed without squishing our baby," Jude waddled over to the bed, and sat down. The bed groaned in pain, and Jude glanced at me quickly. "Don't even think it," Jude warned.
"Think what?" I put on my most innocent look, and waited until she was finished undressing.
"That's what I thought. Night, Tommy. I love you." Jude pulled me closer to her, after I'd finished getting undressed.
"Love you, Jude," I kissed her until she was asleep, then I lay my head against her shoulder and drifted off, holding her in my arms
AN: So, what'd you think? If you have any ideas, titles, or anything you want to have in the next chapter, please let me know, OK? Thanks for reading/reviewing! You guys are the best!