See you on Thursday with another update of this story!

---

Quartermaine Estate: Kitchen Terrace

“Finally,” Monica said with a sigh of relief when Jason sat next to her on the terrace. “I thought we’d never have a moment to ourselves.” She reached out a hand and he squeezed it. “It’s so good to have you here. I know this isn’t your favorite place, and people—well, it’s appreciated.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jason said, and her smile widened. “I’m just glad you’re feeling well enough to be up for so long. It’s been…this is the first time since I came home.”

“Well, I’ve felt a renewed effort to get my get strength back.” Monica leaned her head back against the head rest of her mechanized wheel chair, looked out over the gardens and back lawn stretching towards the lake, the sun dipping towards the horizon. “I always enjoy being with my grandchildren, but getting you home—knowing that I hadn’t outlived all my children—”

Jason dipped his head, the shame spiraling up again. “I’m sorry—”

“I don’t want to dwell on that. I have you, and you’re back with your boys—” Monica paused, and must have seen something in his face. “What’s wrong?”

He nearly said nothing — too used to keeping things close to the chest, to not telling anyone, not even someone who could be trusted, anything that might reveal any vulnerability — but that was who he used to be. Who he didn’t want to be anymore. “It’s…hard. Sam insists that any visit with Danny happens with Jake and Elizabeth, which puts pressure on Jake because he still—” Jason sighed, look towards the lake where most of the teens had disappeared to go swimming and have their own small party. “He tolerates me because he wants to make Elizabeth happy.”

“It’s only been a few months, Jason. He’ll come around. You did,” she reminded him.

“Not until it was too late to make peace with my father,” Jason reminded her, and she sighed. “And I still didn’t have much to do with Edward. I’m trying to give Jake space because I want to respect his boundaries, but I’ve lost so much time with him. He’ll graduate in the spring, and he’s looking at international schools.”

“It’s hard not to push,” Monica acknowledged with a sigh. “God knows, I wish your father and I could have learned a little patience and grace. Your grandfather — he would never have admitted it, but he had regrets, Jason. About you and your brother. We pushed too hard, and then…we stopped trying at all.” Monica smiled at him. “But Emily kept you tied to us, and so did Lila. Someone we both loved. Just as Jake loves his mother enough to let you in — that toleration will fade, Jason, and he’ll forgive you.”

“I just hate that it causes problems with Jake and Elizabeth. And with Danny. They had a fight before we came here. We could hear them from the driveway.” Jason sat back, remembering the shadows in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Sam’s shoved her in the middle of this, and I hate it.”

“I won’t speak on Sam other than to say those kids are the only good she’s ever put in this world,” Monica said with a tinge of bitterness. “She has a lot of nerve pretending that you’re some sort of danger when those children lived with me while she served time in prison for murder.”

Jason had nothing to say to that — Sam had done her fair share of reckless, dangerous things over the years, but like always, she’d shed that skin and adopted a more sedate lifestyle to match the man she was living with.

“It’s starting to get dark,” Monica said. “It won’t be long before you can make your escape.” She patted Jason’s hand. “Tell me more about Jake. Where does he want to go to school?”

—

Molly didn’t slam the door in her sister’s face, but didn’t exactly welcome Sam over the threshold other. She simply left the door open and walked back to the dining table, where her laptop, legal pads, and law books were spread out. “I don’t want to hear whatever you’re going to say.”

“Mols—”

“Because you’re going to ask me to give Kristina a break because it’s hard on Mom, and I’ll just feel bad because I can’t.” Molly picked up her pencil. “So let’s say you tried, and you go back to Mom with a clear conscience.”

Sam closed the door, then pulled out a chair to sit across from her sister. “I know it’s hard when all the attention is focused on Kristina—”

“You think is about attention?” Molly’s head snapped up. “Why? Because of the funeral? You think I’m angry because Kristina made sure the day was about her, not my daughter?”

“I think there’s something to that. Kristina’s always demanded a lot of Mom’s energy—”

“And when she doesn’t, you do,” Molly cut in, and Sam closed her mouth. “Why am I always the one that has to give? To understand, to give the break—Kristina was planning to sue TJ for custody of our daughter. The day we buried her, Kristina picked a fight because we’d named our daughter without her—and tell me, Sam—” Molly leaned forward. “Has she called her Adela?”

Sam opened her mouth, then closed it, choosing instead to take an extra breath and moment to consider her response carefully. “She has—”

“Did you correct her? Did you tell her that my daughter’s name was Irene, that she was named for TJ’s family? That TJ had every right to give his daughter a family name, and that Kristina is just the surrogate—”

“Molly, you’re not being fair. Kristina went through such hell — she lost that baby before she could even hold her—if Irene had been born, if there had been space—hold on, don’t get mad at me—let me finish. If Irene had been born as planned, the three of you could have hashed this out. Kristina could have given her up more easily. But—” Sam shook her head. “The feeling of waking up, of having to be told your baby is gone—you can’t understand—”

“No, I can’t understand. Right? That’s something special only you and Kristina could ever share,” Molly bit out. She shoved back from the table. “I won’t ever know what it is to carry a child, to give birth. To hold my daughter. Thanks for reminding me—”

“Molly—that’s not what I meant—come on—” Sam stood, put her hands up. “You know that’s not what I meant—”

“Just stop. Stop. Go and tell Kristina that she should understand my pain, that she should give me a break. You won’t because I’m the calm one, the steady one. Because I won’t trash my life and join a cult when I don’t get my way—I won’t do something stupid that requires my entire family to rescue me—that’s why you’re here to talk sense into me. Because Kristina did something so stupid she destroyed my life—” Molly broke off, looked away. “I can’t help Mom with her case, Sam, and it’s not fair to ask me.”

“All right. All right. You’re not wrong, Mols. Kristina — and I — have been known to go a little crazy and throw ourselves at something when we’re convinced we’re right. She didn’t go to Ava’s to hurt anyone—”

“Why did she go there at all? After everything Ava’s done to this family, why would she go there at all? If she’d thought for just a second—” Molly pressed her lips together. “Maybe it makes me a bad person, but I’m glad Cates arrested her. That she has to go to a court and has to think about what she did. I’m glad this might ruin her life. She destroyed mine.”

“You don’t mean that—”

Molly went to the door, opened it. “I love you, Sam, but I’m tired of being asked to sacrifice myself at Kristina’s expense. Not one more minute. Please go.”

Quartermaine Estate: Garden Terrace

“Did you guys grab all the towels?” Elizabeth asked, taking the damp ones, and tossing them in the laundry basket she’d brought with her. “Aiden—” She looked at her youngest son, forever leaving something somewhere.

“Yeah, I double checked, Mom,” Jake said before Aiden could answer, still on his phone. “Are we finally leaving or what?”

“Put down the phone for five seconds and look at me, Jake.” Her son sighed, but looked at her. “We’re not leaving yet, but the sun is gone and we don’t want you down there alone—”

“Who’s we?” Jake said, and she clenched her jaw, and nearly lost her temper, but Rocco and Georgie and she closed her mouth. She’d deal with Jake’s attitude later.

“Elizabeth, hey—” She turned at her name, smiling when Michael exited the house, and crossed to her. “I was hoping to catch you before you leave.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Can we take a walk or—” Michael eyed the group. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, we’re just starting to pack up but I think Jason’s still talking to your grandmother—” When Jake snorted at that, Elizabeth sent him a scorching glare. When they got home— but first, she smiled again at Michael. “Come on. I would love to see Lila’s roses before the season changes.”

When their mother had disappeared from the terrace with Michael, Aiden whacked Jake in the arm. “Dude, what’s your damage?”

“Don’t mind him, he’s still pissed because Charlotte isn’t responding to any of her texts.” Danny made googly eyes at his brother, and Jake rolled his eyes.

“Dad’s been looking for her,” Rocco told Jake. “But she’s just dropped off the map. I hate it. If my mom were awake, none of this would be happening. Charlotte would be with us.”  He made a face, then looked at Georgie. “Come, let’s go find something to eat before Sasha packs up the leftovers.”

“I’ll come with you,” Aiden said. “Jake and his rotten mood can stay out here.”

When they were gone, Danny leaned against the railing, folded his arms. “Your mom is going to kick your ass when she gets you home. I know that look. You’re lucky Michael came along.”

“Shut up,” Jake muttered, dropping to the one of the chairs. “Mom will get over it because she knows why I’m pissed at her—”

“You don’t even care that you’re the only reason I get to see my dad. If your mom wasn’t so nice, I’d be shit out of luck, and that’s not fair,” Danny said. “You want to be a dick to him, whatever. But you’re gonna make it so your mom doesn’t want to help me anymore—”

“Relax, doofus.” Jake tossed his phone aside, irritated with the lack of responses. Nothing for weeks. She disappeared into thin air like he didn’t matter. Like they hadn’t been through something. Like his father had. “My mom isn’t gonna stop being Dad’s baby-sitter. All I want is for her to stop forcing me to do shit with him.”

“You were getting along better until Charlotte dipped out, and you’re taking it out on the rest of us. I’m sorry your girlfriend decided being a fugitive would be better than being with you—”

Jake shot his feet. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

“You heard me.” Danny lifted his chin, but his brother towered over him by at least a foot. “You got dumped like trash and you’re making it Dad’s problem, and mine and everyone else’s—” His head snapped to the side. “What was that?”

Jake had heard it, too, and shoved Danny to the side. “It sounded like—”

And there it was again. Two more pop, pop—

“Fireworks?” Danny asked weakly. “Right? It’s just—”

And one more pop!

“Gunshots.” Jake knew them after all — he’d heard the same sound the night Anna had shot Charlotte. “From the boathouse.”

Quartermaine Estate: Gardens

“I really wouldn’t worry,” Elizabeth told Michael as they swung back around towards the entrance of Lila’s rose gardens, still lovingly maintained after all the years since the matriarch’s passing. “Willow hasn’t said anything to me, other than she missed nursing more than she thought she would. I’m sure she was doing good work at the foundation, but patient care is where she shines.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Michael rubbed his chin. “I just—” He grimaced. “When Jason got hurt last spring, and he ended up hiding out here for a few days. I asked her to help him—” he looked at her. “I would have called you because I know you’ve got more experience with that side of it, but I didn’t know if there was time, you know?”

“No, of course. Willow was closer. And it was for the best — Cates definitely thought I’d helped Jason — because I would have.” Elizabeth tipped her head. “Do you think Willow’s upset because you asked her to hide him while he was a fugitive?”

“It was a lot of pressure to put on her—I mean, it was just a few days. When Jason found out Cates was starting to go after you for maybe helping him, he knew he had to give up.”

“And then he was cleared. I would think that would go a long way to making Willow feel better—” Elizabeth stopped, whipped her head around, her eyes wide. Because, unlike her son — she didn’t need to hear that sound more than once. “Where did that come from?”

“The boat house,” Michael bit out, then took off in that direction, and Elizabeth followed, even the gunshots rang out three more times.

Then silence.

← Flash Fiction: You’re Not Sorry – Part 1 |