Family Ties (24 page)

ADOPTIVE

“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood but of respect and joy in each other’s life.”

~Richard Bach

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

I stand with my new family and the judge who just signed my adoption papers for a picture. The Waters and the Rivens wait with wide smiles, then join us for a group picture. Andrew…Dad takes their copy of the papers and leads the pack out of the courtroom.

The judge taps my shoulder. “Sara, may I have a word?”

“Your Honor.” I turn to face him and smooth out the front of my jade green sundress to temper my nerves.

“Usually the judge who presides over the family court case from beginning to end would have done this and would know your story better,” he explains. “Yours is a special situation because your adoptive parents took you in, then you were taken into foster care.

“I read your file and I want to apologize on behalf of my colleague for the mishandling of your case. We do our best to protect each child who comes before us in our courtroom. Sometimes our desire to keep everyone safe clouds the actual circumstances and we overstep.”

The admission leaves me dumbstruck.

“This is strictly between you and me,” he clarifies. “I felt with all you went through, you deserved an apology.”

He didn’t have to say a single word to me, but he did knowing if I repeat anything it would mean trouble for him.

“I appreciate it, Your Honor.”

I hold my hand out and he shakes it firmly with a smile.

We gather at home for a celebratory cookout. My new parents refuse to let me help and I retreat to my room, stretching out on my bed for some solitude with P!nk playing on my iPod.

My home is truly here now. I have parents who fought for my return. I have a sister whom I love and who loves me in equal measure.

This is bliss.

“We wondered where you went, Parker.” Jason enters my room, still in his black pants and yellow dress shirt, the sleeves now rolled to his elbows. 

I roll onto my side with my arm under my head. “I needed a moment to myself.”

He climbs onto my bed and mirrors me. “You okay?” His hand settles on my waist.

This is bliss as well.

“I’m more than okay.” I stroke his cheek with my fingertips. “I’m savoring the euphoria while I can.”

“What did the judge say to you after we left the room?” He captures my hand and leaves a soft kiss on my wrist.

A shudder ripples through me and he shifts out of focus for a moment. “I can’t say.”

He cradles my hand to his chest. “No secrets. Remember?”

His heart thump-thumps against my hand. “He could lose his job, J. Please don’t ask me to compromise him.”

“You still don’t trust me.”

“I do.” I pull my hand from his and wind the curly tips of his hair around my fingers. “With all of me, I trust you. But if someone in a position of power told you something in confidence that could get them fired or worse, would you tell me after they asked you not to?”

“I don’t know.”

“See my quandary? I’m not trying to keep secrets from you. It has nothing to do with you and it doesn’t affect you in any way. I promise.”

His hand skims my neck and caresses my jawline, but a knock from my open door causes us to raise our heads enough to see who it is.

“Dinner in ten minutes,” Rose…Mom announces.

“We’ll be down in a minute, Mom.”

Her face gives off a luminous glow as if she is in the same state of delight I’m in. Or was.

Our heads return to their resting position. “You killed my joy,” I chide.

“Let me make it up to you.” He shifts up on his arm, his hand sliding to the back of my head. His mouth claims me, taking every piece that I freely give to him.

The rippling shudder returns and builds to a pitching back and forth like a ship caught in rough seas, threatening to carry me off into the storm.

He rolls me onto my back as his returns to my waist and my fingers wend their way through his hair.

The only contact between us is our hands and mouth and I need him closer. I press my body towards him and he breaks away. My mouth hangs open from the sudden disconnect and shock. I move towards him, but his firm grip on my waist holds me in place.

Heat warms my eyes as they moisten. “Why?”

“It’s me, Parker.”

It’s then I notice the pain in wrinkles creasing around his eyes. “What did I do?” I ask, my heart racing.

He strokes my face with his knuckles as he takes deep breaths. “You didn’t do anything. I got carried away.”

“I was enjoying it.”

His half-cocked grin appears. “Same here.”

“So why did you stop?”

“You know, Parker,” he snickers in the pause, “sometimes you’re still the Miss Goody Two-Shoes I met in the cafeteria.”

The corners of my mouth turn down, knowing he’s toying with me and my lack of real world experience.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

“I just told you I do.”

He removes my hand from his hair and covers it like he’s teaching me something new. He slides it down his chest to his stomach. My breathing thins out and spots flash in my eyes.

He stops. “Breathe, Parker. Look at me,” he says, using the same tone he uses to tell me he loves me.

I focus on his golden irises. The pain replaced by tenderness.

Our hands travel to his belt and he stops again, checking that my breathing is even. He lowers our hands a few more inches until my palm covers the hard bulge in his pants, then he removes it.

My cheeks burn. “Oh.” I pause, unsure what to say next. “I’m sorry,” I apologize, feeling unusually bashful with the boy who knows all my secrets and scars.

“Don’t ever be sorry. I told you I got carried away. I was being an overachiever trying to make it up to you.”

I giggle at his overachiever comment. I’m definitely not ready, but I’m in awe of his restraint. Simon took what he wanted from me when he wanted it, no waiting.

Jason has done nothing
but
wait. Waited for Simon and Tibby to let him take me on a date. Waited for me while I was in Foster Hell. Now he waits for me to exorcise the demons keeping me from complete intimacy with him.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Jason and I sit on the dock with six trout in the cooler. “I think I’m ready to go home and clean these,” he says. 

“Do you mind dropping me off at home? I want to take a shower before going to your house.” I don’t want to smell like fish at the cookout. “I can ride with Mom and Dad.” I fold up my chair.

“Sure.”

He kisses my hand once we’re on the road. “Thanks for going fishing with me on my birthday.” 

“I thought you might enjoy it.”

“I did. Very much. And now we have fish for the cookout.” He grins.

Jason walks me to the door when we arrive at my house. I call out to let my family know I’m home, but no one answers.

“That’s odd. Do you mind waiting and taking me with you?” 

“No problem.” 

“Thanks.” I peck him on the cheek. “I’ll be quick.” 

“I’ll wait in the TV room.” 

I shower and dress in denim shorts and blue t-shirt, removing a wrapped shirt box from my desk before going downstairs.

Jason lies prone on one of the sofas, fast asleep. I stifle a laugh and kneel next to him, pushing his hair back. I place soft kisses on his cheek, nose, and lips. He stirs.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” I murmur, weaving my fingers through his hair.

“Mmmm.” He rolls onto his side and blinks his eyes open. “That’s not how the King’s son woke Briar-Rose from her one hundred years of slumber.”

I giggle.

He cradles my face in his hands, using his mouth to open mine. The tenderness turns ardent and he hauls me up on the sofa. He wraps his leg around mine, running his hand up and down my back.

A fire burns low and builds up. I draw him closer on instinct, the intense heat shutting down thoughts of tearing myself away.

Jason breaks us apart, making the decision. His eyes blaze and his breath is heavy. He twists a lock of my hair between his fingers. “I could wake up to your face every day.” 

Heat flushes my cheeks. “I have something for you.” 

He lights up. “What?”

“Well, if we can untangle ourselves, it’s on the floor.” 

He moves his leg and releases my head. I hold his arm and pick up the present.

“Happy birthday.” I smile, handing it to him.

“You got me a present?” he asks, excited. He maneuvers into a sitting position, placing the gift on his lap.

“Of course I did. It’s the first time I get to celebrate your birthday.” 

The left side of his mouth quirks into a half-grin. He tears into the wrapping with abandon, then slips the top off the box and peels back the tissue paper. His jaw drops and his eyes gleam as his hand skims over the assortment of hooks and lures.

“Your dad told me what you would want.” I love the delight on his face. I finally get to be the giver instead of the taker. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Parker, I
love
it.”

Damian’s car, the Riven’s car, and Dad’s Cadillac are out front when we arrive at Jason’s. They left a spot open in the driveway for Jason’s car.

Everyone wishes him happy birthday and he gets caught up in the excitement.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he says after the well-wishing dies down. “I’ll be right back.”

I give him a questioning look.

“The fish,” he whispers.

“What are you doing?” Alana asks, finding him stooped over the cooler in the kitchen a few minutes later.

“Cleaning the fish,” he answers.

“No, you’re not. I’ll take care of it,” she says, her tone telling him there is no arguing.  

“Do you want some help?” I ask.

“No, honey. Go enjoy yourself.” 

Hunter arrives and we spend the afternoon lounging around the backyard talking with everyone. We take a break for Jason to open presents, then Andrew and Felix fire up the grill.

“I don’t even get to man the grill?” Jason asks, his mouth in a mock frown.

“I’m afraid not,” Felix answers, shaking his head. “You get to be a spectator today.” 

“That’s no fun,” he grumbles, no longer being playful.

After dinner, we sing “Happy Birthday” to Jason as Alana brings the cake with lit candles to the dining room table. He pauses a moment, then blows out all the candles. Alana passes him a knife and he slices up the cake.

He finally takes a bite once everyone has a piece and moans happily. “Nothing like your homemade strawberry cake, Mom.” He kisses her cheek. “Thank you.” 

She beams. “You’re welcome, honey.”

Jason keeps Mike company and drums his fingers on the table while the rest of us clean up and put the leftovers away. He tugs me into his lap as I pass by, wrapping his arms around my waist. I circle my arm around his shoulder as his lips graze my cheek.

“What do you say we blow this joint?” he says, more than asks.

I raise my eyebrows.

“It’s my party, I can leave if I want to.”

“What about helping your dad?”

“Mom,” he calls out, “are you okay with Dad if I take Sara out?”

“Go right ahead, honey,” she replies.

He arches a challenging brow back at me.

My eyes never leave his. “Mom, is it okay if I go out with Jason to who knows where for who knows what?”

She chuckles. “Sure, sweetie.” 

“See!” he exclaims, hooking his arm under my knees then standing. “Thank you all for the party and the presents. I’m taking my Parker away from here.” 

A chorus of goodbyes echo as Jason strolls out of the house with me in his arms.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he answers, grinning and opening the door for me.

He removes something from the trunk before getting in the car. “Cover your face with it,” he says, handing me a shirt with “PROPERTY OF ENCINITAS HIGH SCHOOL BASKETBALL” on the front.

“Seriously?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.

“It’s clean, Parker.” 

I eye him before complying. He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway.

“This reminds me of the day we tried to confuse the reporters,” I state.

“Try? We did confuse them. It’s why they didn’t rush us when me and Damian came out carrying you and Arissa. They didn’t know who to go to.”

I giggle at the memory. It wasn’t so funny then, but it is now. He laces his fingers with mine and brings my hand to his lips.

I try to remove the shirt when the gear groans into park.

He seizes my wrist. “Not yet.”

I let out an exaggerated exhale, because I know he’s enjoying it. He opens my door and helps me out of the car.

“Now?” I ask.

“Nope.” He takes my hands and wraps them around his neck. “Hold on.” 

I clasp my hands together and place them on the blanket over his shoulder. He picks me up and carries me like he did when we left his house.. 

“I’m beginning to think you enjoy carrying me,” I quip.

“Only when it involves fun and surprises,” he teases back. “I wasn’t fond of the first time I carried you,” he says, the lightness and laughter from his voice is gone.

He sets me on soft and uneven ground. The blanket snaps next to me when he shakes it out. He guides me onto the blanket and down, lying with my neck resting on his arm. He takes the shirt off and thousands of stars twinkle above us.

I marvel at the sight, speaking in a breathy exhale, “J.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing. Where are we?”

“Cardiff Beach. I figured Simon and Tibby never took you where you could really enjoy the stars.”

“You figured right.” 

He caresses my jaw with his free hand. “You made this the best birthday, Parker. Thank you.” His lips skim mine as his fingers play in my hair. I cup his face and open my mouth to him. He brings me closer with his hand at the small of my back.

The world spins out from underneath me and my heart won’t stop its relentless pounding as the fire burns hotter, searing me back to reality.

Simon’s face flashes in my head.

“Stop,” I murmur, taking a deep breath and shaking my head as if a simple shake will loosen Simon’s hold.

He props himself up on his arm, looking down at me. “Parker, I wasn’t trying to—“

I push myself up and place my finger on his lips, then entwine my fingers with his. “I know you weren’t. I saw Simon’s face just now.”

Once again, I feel like it’s unreasonable for him to wait. That I’m undeserving of his deep reservoir of patience because I’m damaged goods.

“Sara Allison Jericho, I put it in writing for you, I would wait forever for you. I mean it. I waited until Simon and Tibby let you date. I waited for you when you were taken from us. I can wait until you’re ready. If I couldn’t, I’d be a shitty excuse for a boyfriend.”

My boyfriend, who understands our lives are transitory, believes each day should be cherished. Most boys in his situation would probably sleep around and party. Jason finds something worth holding on to and doesn’t let go.

I’m that something worth holding on to.

“I’d love to see more of the stars.” I snuggle in the crook of his arm as we admire the heavens glimmering at us, like a gazillion tiny Swarovski crystals were thrown into the sky.