01-24-2019, 09:20 PM
[[An Interlude]]
An awkward breakfast passed. The stilted conversation weighted far heavier than remedial remarks about the weather or Jessika’s beautiful house, but their hostess provided a smooth navigation over those unsettled waters. Natalie nursed a coffee and for the most part tuned out. Her presence was more hindrance than help, and she had never placed much value on small talk. Instead she remembered how Jensen had reacted to the opportunity to return home; how profusely he had thanked Jay. And yet this reunion was strangely perfunctory.
Not that it was any of her business.
She was glad when they all finally dispersed. The last few days had hardly been comfortable living, and though she’d breathed no complaint (seriously, bigger problems) the simple pleasure of being clean was like the offer of water in the desert. Excused to her own devices, it was the first blessed thing she did. The shower stung intentionally just a little too hot for comfort, like it might scour her soul alongside. The quiet times like this were so often when the weight of grief rolled over in her chest like a slumbering beast, but though she felt its stirrings it did not rouse. Her face upturned to the stream of water to drown the burn behind her eyes, until the heaviness shifted to a bearable burden.
When she returned Cayli sprawled out on her bed, hair damp on her shoulders. She was stifling a yawn when her gaze bounced up to the opening door, and a beam replaced it. “Have you SEEN this house. It. Is. Amazing. It has a pool, Natalie, a pool. And bathrooms. Plural! Which -- ha, okay, which is probably pretty normal to you, but you’ll still come out to the poolhouse with me right? Because it’s practically the tropics compared to Iowa so mom can hardly complain I’m gonna catch a chill.”
A little hesitation marked Natalie’s path, her thoughts already revolving carefully around the looming future. Cayli knew as much as Natalie could really teach of the power, and once she left American soil it was unlikely she would ever have cause or opportunity to return. Torn from her home, and hospitalised months before that, it was clear the girl was lonely. It tugged at emotions Natalie did not allow to reach her expression as she perched at the edge of her own bed. Truth was she didn’t want to be a thorn in the side of this family by encouraging a friendship Cayli’s parents found distasteful. They already had enough pulling them apart.
In the end she smirked and gestured the freshly charged wallet in her palm. “I have some work I need to do. Being an ambassador isn’t all ten hour hell-rides and stony breakfast silences.”
Cay laughed. “Why do you think I want some halfway decent company? They’ll get over it. They kinda have to, you know? He’s their son. And they’re not so bad, my mom and dad. I mean this is a shitstorm by any standards, right? But I’m sure the five star luxury will help them get their heads around everything. Pastor Jensen James’s house. I mean really. I think mom’s head might explode.” She grinned. “What kind of work?”
Curiosity lit her up and even Natalie’s iron resolve quietened. She’d planned to keep her distance while the family settled; to spend the time tying up some loose obligations and thinking afresh over the future’s problems. There had to be leverage somewhere. But there was so little she could actually do here to be of use, and soon enough Cay was going to be stuck here alone. Perhaps it was selfish to prolong the tie, but Natalie appreciated the company. Eventually she shrugged and crossed her legs up under her, pushing the wallet wallet out onto the rumpled blankets. A few taps burst a schism of colour and light up into the air between them. Marcus’s programme. A swipe of her finger spun the strands of light curled like ribbons in flight.
“A visual representation of the power. Simplified. It might not look like this to you -- it doesn’t to me. But the basic principles are the same.”
Cayli’s eyes widened for a moment, while Natalie pointed out the distinct threads. Then determination flooded her expression in the same breath as the power. No permission was sought, but Natalie didn’t begrudge the distraction. The gift was probably going to be the best protection Cayli could have once Jay left for Africa, and only practise would secure confidence. For a moment she watched the faint glow against the teenager’s skin, paling a halo around her face; then moved to observe the whips of power curling in imitation of the digital example. Slowly, a wobbling orb of water began to spin itself into existence. Content to leave her to tinker with Marcus’s programme, Natalie’s attention realigned to another, smaller screen.
Her research had understandably faltered, and she’d intended for a more comprehensive first instalment, but days had slipped by now. She was inclined to offer at least something, given her abrupt absence from Moscow. At the very least she wished to impart the steps that had helped pull Cayli back from the cusp. It was important information to share, lest it prove the linchpin in another’s life. Writing it down revealed such simplicity it tugged at the corners of her lips, though. How many had already lost this chance? How many were losing it now, only for lack of a little guidance?
Another message followed for Evelyn; gratitude for the part she had played in granting them leave from the Custody, and assurances that as a result Jay’s sister was alive and blooming. She erred a little heavy on the supposed familial bliss, lest the Congresswoman’s soft heart provide the balm they might need to ease any irritation on Brandon’s part for Jay’s continued absence. There had been no stipulation for time, but she did not doubt he kept tabs on their progress. He would know Cayli had left the hospital.
The third was brief, asking Laurie for a discrete favour. That sent she finally shifted, pressing the palm of her hand against the knot in the back of her neck. The journey’s aches resettled with a little inertia.
“You know. I thought about it, and I really doubt you let my mom scare you off.” Natalie’s gaze rose. Cay’s brows were low, attention tight on the flame dancing atop her palm. Though a small smile played around the edges of her mouth. It was probably foolish to split her attention like that, but a glance at the twisting threads revealed them sound enough. “So maybe,” Cay continued, “you should know that Jay was pretty upset when he thought you’d gone.”
“You ought to concentrate, Cay. You like your eyebrows, don’t you?”
Cayli chuckled. The little flame sputtered and flashed, much like the impish gleam in her eye. “I don’t mind. Just saying. So who’s Alistair?”
This time when Natalie’s gaze pressed up it was with pinched brows. It wasn’t like Cay was without resources; even a basic online search would reveal the whole sordid history of Natalie’s family. But there was nothing more than benign curiosity in the question. It still felt like a step from sunlight to shade. “He’s my father,” she said carefully. “Where did you hear that name?”
Cay shrugged. “My brother’s not hot on the subtle. Did you notice? He mumbled something before, right after you’d gone. So I thought you might know.” The girl’s attention shifted to gauge the silence that followed, and as she did the power suddenly fizzled from her. She frowned, equal parts frustrated and disappointed. But her expression quickly resolved to an earnestness as something else apparently occurred to her. “So does this mean you’re not going back to the Custody?”
“What makes you think that?”
Cayli’s expression flickered; a flash of vulnerability behind the bravado. “That’s why we stopped at the park, right? To convince you to stay. Because it’s what your dad wants?”
It sank in like a shock of frigid water.
Because communication with a convicted terrorist was bad enough. A stupid risk, not to mention a breach of privacy that did not exactly swell Natalie with forgiveness. But she had assumed it had been an act born of anger -- to confront the paperwork Jay had discovered in her bag, the agents sent to her room, his secrets laid bare like so much viscera. She hadn’t dwelt on it; just pressed it to the back of her mind like so many missed phonecalls, the detail obscured by a sheer wall of wilful ignorance. A thing of the past.
But the implications Cayli spilled in innocence chilled Natalie’s expression still. It throbbed like so much shattered glass in her chest before she swept it close and begged that pain to silence. Doubts festered. The ‘I can’t do this without you’ settled somewhere deep suddenly crumbled under scrutiny, and for a moment she felt foolish, so foolish, to have believed him. To have wanted to believe him.
Because it seemed then that Jay had lied.
In fact the revelation was suddenly stark: he’d needed her to stay to satisfy her father’s whim, and begged her the surest way he knew how. She’d even given him that ammunition. Light, those words by the lake were nothing but a manipulation. It flooded her cold, then parted for anger. Defiance flared, filled her up with the fierce, knee-jerk reaction to storm free of this mess; to shuck loose of the connection that tugged her back and always to him. A destructive flaw. Something broken in her psyche.
A swipe collapsed the screens in front of her. The breath was tight in her lungs; too tight, as if anything spilled might spark like a dam she couldn't stop.
And then she remembered; the smallest of details, like a ragged pennant on a scarred battlefield. Enough to give brief pause.
Because Jay had thrown the wallet in the lake before he’d spoken.
Wariness snared the urge to explore the memory further. At the time relief had marked the arc of its flight out of her life, the only thing she really recalled of the action. The why never stirred until now, because like so many thoughts fringing her father, Natalie had chosen not to examine it. Instead she’d allowed herself to assume Jay simply understood; that it was an apology of sorts, or at least an end. And maybe it was, but not for her.
Alistair had to have offered something in exchange, and Jay wasn’t so charmed an actor he could have hidden the granting of such a boon in return. Yet they had no advantages. No answers. And he’d cut the line of communication before he could have known what she would do for certain. But why? The coldest part of her understood what he might have had to gain from her father. The coldest part of her accepted the necessity for any cost.
Her thoughts reared back before any more emotion began to stir.
She cut it down to the facts.
He’d still made a deal in the first place.
With her damn father.
A deal upon which if he had reneged, Alistair would be unlikely to simply let go. Forgive and forget; not exactly the Grey family motto. She briefly closed her eyes.
Jesus, Jay, what did you do?
She ran a palm over her face, shifted back into reality to witness the expression on Cay’s face. There was that hopeful look in her eye; the little sister always left behind, always desperately building bridges to Jay’s life. Like his family, like the little sister he moved mountains to save, was not enough. A life worth protecting, its value a sum of parts labelled with familial obligation, but not someone to know. To return to. Cayli had to know better, but Natalie understood that seed of doubt. She’d been the one left behind; knew that sinking weight of a connection so desperately fought for but never won.
Her anger banked (and oh, she was angry).
It would take time for Alistair to catch up. She had time to fix this.
“My grandfather is a Patron in the Custody. If I ran away to America I think he and my mother would have something to say, Cay. It’s probably why my father suggested it. Seems we have the dysfunctional family thing in common.”
It wasn’t the answer Cay would want, but there was little point issuing false promise. She still didn’t want to see hint of the inevitable deflation, though. The kid had been incarcerated in a hospital while her life crumbled to ash beyond its walls, then uprooted from the home she had grown up in by the brother she idolised, knowing that in a matter of days it would all be gone again. Being a teenager chafed at the best of times. It was still a stupid idea to step into this breach like she wasn’t going to just be another person who left, but neither could she quite walk away from the need.
“Come on then. Let’s go find this bloody pool.”
An awkward breakfast passed. The stilted conversation weighted far heavier than remedial remarks about the weather or Jessika’s beautiful house, but their hostess provided a smooth navigation over those unsettled waters. Natalie nursed a coffee and for the most part tuned out. Her presence was more hindrance than help, and she had never placed much value on small talk. Instead she remembered how Jensen had reacted to the opportunity to return home; how profusely he had thanked Jay. And yet this reunion was strangely perfunctory.
Not that it was any of her business.
She was glad when they all finally dispersed. The last few days had hardly been comfortable living, and though she’d breathed no complaint (seriously, bigger problems) the simple pleasure of being clean was like the offer of water in the desert. Excused to her own devices, it was the first blessed thing she did. The shower stung intentionally just a little too hot for comfort, like it might scour her soul alongside. The quiet times like this were so often when the weight of grief rolled over in her chest like a slumbering beast, but though she felt its stirrings it did not rouse. Her face upturned to the stream of water to drown the burn behind her eyes, until the heaviness shifted to a bearable burden.
When she returned Cayli sprawled out on her bed, hair damp on her shoulders. She was stifling a yawn when her gaze bounced up to the opening door, and a beam replaced it. “Have you SEEN this house. It. Is. Amazing. It has a pool, Natalie, a pool. And bathrooms. Plural! Which -- ha, okay, which is probably pretty normal to you, but you’ll still come out to the poolhouse with me right? Because it’s practically the tropics compared to Iowa so mom can hardly complain I’m gonna catch a chill.”
A little hesitation marked Natalie’s path, her thoughts already revolving carefully around the looming future. Cayli knew as much as Natalie could really teach of the power, and once she left American soil it was unlikely she would ever have cause or opportunity to return. Torn from her home, and hospitalised months before that, it was clear the girl was lonely. It tugged at emotions Natalie did not allow to reach her expression as she perched at the edge of her own bed. Truth was she didn’t want to be a thorn in the side of this family by encouraging a friendship Cayli’s parents found distasteful. They already had enough pulling them apart.
In the end she smirked and gestured the freshly charged wallet in her palm. “I have some work I need to do. Being an ambassador isn’t all ten hour hell-rides and stony breakfast silences.”
Cay laughed. “Why do you think I want some halfway decent company? They’ll get over it. They kinda have to, you know? He’s their son. And they’re not so bad, my mom and dad. I mean this is a shitstorm by any standards, right? But I’m sure the five star luxury will help them get their heads around everything. Pastor Jensen James’s house. I mean really. I think mom’s head might explode.” She grinned. “What kind of work?”
Curiosity lit her up and even Natalie’s iron resolve quietened. She’d planned to keep her distance while the family settled; to spend the time tying up some loose obligations and thinking afresh over the future’s problems. There had to be leverage somewhere. But there was so little she could actually do here to be of use, and soon enough Cay was going to be stuck here alone. Perhaps it was selfish to prolong the tie, but Natalie appreciated the company. Eventually she shrugged and crossed her legs up under her, pushing the wallet wallet out onto the rumpled blankets. A few taps burst a schism of colour and light up into the air between them. Marcus’s programme. A swipe of her finger spun the strands of light curled like ribbons in flight.
“A visual representation of the power. Simplified. It might not look like this to you -- it doesn’t to me. But the basic principles are the same.”
Cayli’s eyes widened for a moment, while Natalie pointed out the distinct threads. Then determination flooded her expression in the same breath as the power. No permission was sought, but Natalie didn’t begrudge the distraction. The gift was probably going to be the best protection Cayli could have once Jay left for Africa, and only practise would secure confidence. For a moment she watched the faint glow against the teenager’s skin, paling a halo around her face; then moved to observe the whips of power curling in imitation of the digital example. Slowly, a wobbling orb of water began to spin itself into existence. Content to leave her to tinker with Marcus’s programme, Natalie’s attention realigned to another, smaller screen.
Her research had understandably faltered, and she’d intended for a more comprehensive first instalment, but days had slipped by now. She was inclined to offer at least something, given her abrupt absence from Moscow. At the very least she wished to impart the steps that had helped pull Cayli back from the cusp. It was important information to share, lest it prove the linchpin in another’s life. Writing it down revealed such simplicity it tugged at the corners of her lips, though. How many had already lost this chance? How many were losing it now, only for lack of a little guidance?
Another message followed for Evelyn; gratitude for the part she had played in granting them leave from the Custody, and assurances that as a result Jay’s sister was alive and blooming. She erred a little heavy on the supposed familial bliss, lest the Congresswoman’s soft heart provide the balm they might need to ease any irritation on Brandon’s part for Jay’s continued absence. There had been no stipulation for time, but she did not doubt he kept tabs on their progress. He would know Cayli had left the hospital.
The third was brief, asking Laurie for a discrete favour. That sent she finally shifted, pressing the palm of her hand against the knot in the back of her neck. The journey’s aches resettled with a little inertia.
“You know. I thought about it, and I really doubt you let my mom scare you off.” Natalie’s gaze rose. Cay’s brows were low, attention tight on the flame dancing atop her palm. Though a small smile played around the edges of her mouth. It was probably foolish to split her attention like that, but a glance at the twisting threads revealed them sound enough. “So maybe,” Cay continued, “you should know that Jay was pretty upset when he thought you’d gone.”
“You ought to concentrate, Cay. You like your eyebrows, don’t you?”
Cayli chuckled. The little flame sputtered and flashed, much like the impish gleam in her eye. “I don’t mind. Just saying. So who’s Alistair?”
This time when Natalie’s gaze pressed up it was with pinched brows. It wasn’t like Cay was without resources; even a basic online search would reveal the whole sordid history of Natalie’s family. But there was nothing more than benign curiosity in the question. It still felt like a step from sunlight to shade. “He’s my father,” she said carefully. “Where did you hear that name?”
Cay shrugged. “My brother’s not hot on the subtle. Did you notice? He mumbled something before, right after you’d gone. So I thought you might know.” The girl’s attention shifted to gauge the silence that followed, and as she did the power suddenly fizzled from her. She frowned, equal parts frustrated and disappointed. But her expression quickly resolved to an earnestness as something else apparently occurred to her. “So does this mean you’re not going back to the Custody?”
“What makes you think that?”
Cayli’s expression flickered; a flash of vulnerability behind the bravado. “That’s why we stopped at the park, right? To convince you to stay. Because it’s what your dad wants?”
It sank in like a shock of frigid water.
Because communication with a convicted terrorist was bad enough. A stupid risk, not to mention a breach of privacy that did not exactly swell Natalie with forgiveness. But she had assumed it had been an act born of anger -- to confront the paperwork Jay had discovered in her bag, the agents sent to her room, his secrets laid bare like so much viscera. She hadn’t dwelt on it; just pressed it to the back of her mind like so many missed phonecalls, the detail obscured by a sheer wall of wilful ignorance. A thing of the past.
But the implications Cayli spilled in innocence chilled Natalie’s expression still. It throbbed like so much shattered glass in her chest before she swept it close and begged that pain to silence. Doubts festered. The ‘I can’t do this without you’ settled somewhere deep suddenly crumbled under scrutiny, and for a moment she felt foolish, so foolish, to have believed him. To have wanted to believe him.
Because it seemed then that Jay had lied.
In fact the revelation was suddenly stark: he’d needed her to stay to satisfy her father’s whim, and begged her the surest way he knew how. She’d even given him that ammunition. Light, those words by the lake were nothing but a manipulation. It flooded her cold, then parted for anger. Defiance flared, filled her up with the fierce, knee-jerk reaction to storm free of this mess; to shuck loose of the connection that tugged her back and always to him. A destructive flaw. Something broken in her psyche.
A swipe collapsed the screens in front of her. The breath was tight in her lungs; too tight, as if anything spilled might spark like a dam she couldn't stop.
And then she remembered; the smallest of details, like a ragged pennant on a scarred battlefield. Enough to give brief pause.
Because Jay had thrown the wallet in the lake before he’d spoken.
Wariness snared the urge to explore the memory further. At the time relief had marked the arc of its flight out of her life, the only thing she really recalled of the action. The why never stirred until now, because like so many thoughts fringing her father, Natalie had chosen not to examine it. Instead she’d allowed herself to assume Jay simply understood; that it was an apology of sorts, or at least an end. And maybe it was, but not for her.
Alistair had to have offered something in exchange, and Jay wasn’t so charmed an actor he could have hidden the granting of such a boon in return. Yet they had no advantages. No answers. And he’d cut the line of communication before he could have known what she would do for certain. But why? The coldest part of her understood what he might have had to gain from her father. The coldest part of her accepted the necessity for any cost.
Her thoughts reared back before any more emotion began to stir.
She cut it down to the facts.
He’d still made a deal in the first place.
With her damn father.
A deal upon which if he had reneged, Alistair would be unlikely to simply let go. Forgive and forget; not exactly the Grey family motto. She briefly closed her eyes.
Jesus, Jay, what did you do?
She ran a palm over her face, shifted back into reality to witness the expression on Cay’s face. There was that hopeful look in her eye; the little sister always left behind, always desperately building bridges to Jay’s life. Like his family, like the little sister he moved mountains to save, was not enough. A life worth protecting, its value a sum of parts labelled with familial obligation, but not someone to know. To return to. Cayli had to know better, but Natalie understood that seed of doubt. She’d been the one left behind; knew that sinking weight of a connection so desperately fought for but never won.
Her anger banked (and oh, she was angry).
It would take time for Alistair to catch up. She had time to fix this.
“My grandfather is a Patron in the Custody. If I ran away to America I think he and my mother would have something to say, Cay. It’s probably why my father suggested it. Seems we have the dysfunctional family thing in common.”
It wasn’t the answer Cay would want, but there was little point issuing false promise. She still didn’t want to see hint of the inevitable deflation, though. The kid had been incarcerated in a hospital while her life crumbled to ash beyond its walls, then uprooted from the home she had grown up in by the brother she idolised, knowing that in a matter of days it would all be gone again. Being a teenager chafed at the best of times. It was still a stupid idea to step into this breach like she wasn’t going to just be another person who left, but neither could she quite walk away from the need.
“Come on then. Let’s go find this bloody pool.”