The minute she heard his voice crackle through the phone she really wished she had not decided to listen to her voicemails, clenching her fist she deleted the message before it had even finished, throwing the phone against the faded green cushions of the porch swing.
"I see someone woke up from their nap and chose violence," Jonathan teased.
Glaring at him Dinah turned her phone off again. "Do not treat me like a child," she warned him, regretting the words the minute they were out of her mouth after everything he had done for her, and was still doing for her. "Sorry," she apologized.
"It's ok," he shrugged, sitting down next to her, watching as she glared at the phone, almost as if she was waiting for something to happen. "Uncle Eddie trying to talk you into coming back?" he correctly guessed.
Dinah sighed loudly, leaning back against the chair and wrapping the blanket around her. "He's mad, he was trying to hide it but I could hear it in his voice … well the few seconds I allowed myself to listen to."
"Don't let him get to you D, you did what you had to do for you, and it was the right thing," Jonathan tried to reassure her, as he watched the guilt start to creep back over her, undoing all of the progress she had made over the last few days.
"I know, I know it's just …"
"Nothing, it's nothing, he's nothing," Jonathan insisted, gripping firmly onto the mug in his hand as he thought of the hold Edmund had over Dinah, and how even though he wasn't even here right now he was still playing her, manipulating her feelings.
For the longest moment Dinah was silent, looking out through the trees she closed her eyes until she could hear the familiar rush of the stream, a sound that seemed to anchor her and calm her nerves. "He's my friend."
"D, I'm not saying this to hurt you, because believe me that's the last thing I want to do but Uncle Eddie, he doesn't have friends, he only surround himself with people he can use, people he can control, when he finds out that there is not going to be a baby … your feelings will mean nothing to him, the fact that you went through all of this for him will mean nothing, don't let him treat you like nothing, make you feel like nothing because you are so much more than that," Jonathan told her, watching as she ran her finger across the rim of the mug as if she was trying to create music with it.
"Maybe," Dinah reluctantly admitted. "But doing that … or at least thinking I could … made me feel like someone that mattered you know," she yawned, adjusting her position slightly so that she was further under the blanket, she was tired all of the time these days, emotionally and physically exhausted from the rollercoaster she had been on ever since she had made the impulsive decision to turn up at the fertility clinic.
Taking the mug from her hands he tugged her arms gently so that she had no choice but to face him. "You are someone, don't let anyone else tell you any different."
"Sounds like you are talking from experience," Dinah observed, needing to move the conversation away from her and all of the drama in her life.
"The past is just that Dinahmite, we can't change it so why even bother worrying about it," Jonathan exhaled, crossing one leg over the other as he stretched them out in front of him.
"Because the rest of the world will never let you forget it," Dinah bitterly responded.
Lifting his hands up Jonathan motioned to the expanse of nature in front of them. "It's just you, me and nothing but nature here D, don't let them bitter, narrow-minded idiots back home spoil that."
"Right, you're right," Dinah agreed. "I thought you were supposed to be making us something to eat," she pointed out, a small smile lifting up the corner of her lips as she leaned in closer to him.
"Already done," he smiled back. "It's in the oven keeping warm."
Dinah watched as he headed back inside the cabin, she could see him through the window humming to himself as he pulled a crockpot from the oven with floral oven-mitts before placing it down on the counter, lifting the lid and smiling to himself as he surveyed his own work.
"Just when you think life is all out of surprises," she whispered under her breath, watching as he started to cut up a baguette. "Something … or someone good comes along," she breathed, slowly pushing herself up from the swing, the now familiar creaking sound something that she could find comfort in as she walked into the cabin to the smell of home cooking, she shook her head gently.
She couldn't go there, at least not yet anyway, her life was a mess, Jonathan was a mess and together they would be an even greater mess than they already were.
"Ross," Edmund called out, practically running towards the older man as he watched him close the car door. "Dinah, where is she?"
"Well hello to you too," the other man grunted back.
Inhaling deeply Edmund bit down his anger, it had been nearly 5 days now since he had found Dinah's letter and even longer since he had heard from her. "I don't have time for pleasantries," he almost growled, lifting his head up so that he was looking straight at him. "Dinah, where is she?" he demanded to know, repeating his earlier question.
"I don't know," Ross replied, not quite sure why he was even dignifying the other man with a response, because if Dinah was avoiding Edmund then he couldn't help but allow himself to believe that perhaps his daughter had finally come to her senses and let go of her obsession with the ambassador. "And," he continued, his voice tight and lilting. "If I did know, you would be the last person I would tell," he assured the other man, leaving him in no doubt as to where he stood on the situation of their unconventional friendship.
"Ross, I'm worried about her," Edmund tried, as he remembered something one of his teachers had told him once about how you get more bees with honey. "Last time I saw her she didn't look very well."
Not wanting to engage him Ross started to walk away as he spotted Blake sitting at the table waiting for him.
Even from this distance Blake could feel the tension between her husband and Edmund. "Everything ok?" she asked as Ross sat down opposite her, leaning across the table to kiss her cheek.
"Everything is fine," Ross reassured his wife as she handed him a takeout cup of coffee.
"It looked pretty tense there for a minute," Blake recalled.
Ross raised his eyebrows; he loved his wife but when she thought she was being kept in the dark about something there was no escaping her need for answers. "It was just Edmund being Edmund," he hedged.
"Which roughly translated means it also has something to do with Dinah," the redhead guessed.
"Blake please," Ross warned, the subject of his eldest daughter being one that usually he tried to avoid talking about with Blake, after all he knew they would always be on opposite sides, that she would never trust Dinah, or forgive her, whilst he loved his daughter more than anything else in this world and would do anything for her.
Immediately Blake could sense that he was keeping something from her. "What has she done now?" she wondered.
"Why must you always assume that it is Dinah that has done something?" Ross bit back, his voice a mix of carefully controlled frustration and weariness.
"Because it usually is," Blake shrugged, unable to hide her true animosity towards Ross's first-born, if she had gotten her way Dinah would not be a part of her husband's life, but for the sake of her marriage she had relented and agreed to stay quiet about his relationship with her, because at the end of the day she loved him more than she hated Dinah.
Ross let out a long, tired breath. "I know how you feel about Dinah, you haven't exactly been quiet about it but Blake, she's my daughter and something is going on with her, something that for one reason or another she doesn't feel she can come to me for help. The other day … when I saw her … she wasn't well, she was pale, tired and … now apparently no one knows where she is, I am worried Blake, please understand that."
"Ok," Blake agreed. "Yes, I don't like Dinah or trust her, and I probably never will but I don't like seeing you like this either, so, if there's anything I can do then you can ask me and I will do it. For you."
"I appreciate that," Ross smiled, genuinely concerned that she was putting her own feelings aside for his sake.
Pacing back and forth Edmund could feel the rage boiling inside of him, he had spent the last few days using every resource he had available to him to try and track her down, but the only lead he had managed to find was she had had gone, and so had her car, a vintage motorbike that belonged to his good-for-nothing nephew now taking up the space where it was usually parked.
"If you have done anything to change her mind," he silently raged, he knew Jonathan hated him and would want nothing more than to make his life miserable.
The idea that Dinah was alone somewhere, with him, was more than Edmund could take, his mind running wild as he tried to imagine what he might be saying to her, what he might be convincing her to do or not to do.
Right now, he knew she held all of the cards. She could be carrying his child, a child that would bring Cassie back to him but legally he did not have a leg to stand on at the moment, the clinic had believed she was Cassie, the contract was unsigned, the whole scenario was full of so many holes that he couldn't sleep at night for worrying about where she might be and what she might be doing.
"You are not doing this Dinah," he said, his voice loud and angry even though there was no one around to listen. "I won't let you," he added, the anger so powerful his whole body was practically shaking.
"You cross me and …"
"Who are you talking too?" Tammy asked, as she stepped into the room expecting to find him with someone else, instead she found him leaning against the table, his grip on it so tight that his knuckles were white.
Forcing himself to appear calm he looked up at her. "No one."
"Oh," Tammy hummed. "I thought I heard voices."
"I was singing," Edmund lied.
"You sing?" Tammy replied, the skepticism she felt clear in every syllable.
Edmund faked a laugh. "Not very well, but yes, when I am alone I sing, it helps with the stress of everything."
"Right," Tammy said, the word carrying a lot more syllables than it usually would.
"I thought you had plans with Sandy?" Edmund asked, changing the subject to something that would not help him dig himself further into the hole he had created.
Pushing her hair back from her face Tammy nodded. "I do, I just came to pick up a few bits. Oh, by the way have you heard from Jonathan?" she questioned, even though she knew Edmund and his nephew were not exactly on speaking terms, in fact the pair could barely stand to breathe the same air. "Only Aunt Reva has been trying to contact him, but it seems he's disappeared."
"I'm sure he will crawl out from whatever rock it is he's found himself under soon," Jonathan spat, his stomach clenching as the young girl all but confirmed his suspicions that wherever Dinah was, she was with him.