16. Jude
16
JUDE
I already regretted bringing Lilah. Not because I didn’t want her there but because I was seeing everything through her eyes.
And it was fucked.
I’d gotten used to the way things were with my dad and Luke — as much as you could get used to that kind of thing — but it was new to Lilah, and I couldn’t help wondering if she noticed the lack of warmth between us, my mom’s false gaiety, like she was hosting a dinner party during a house fire and trying to pretend everything was fine.
I kept Lilah close while we made our way to the dining room, already set with formal place settings, candles flickering at the center of the table. A linen tablecloth rested between the antique dining table and the expensive china, the sparkling crystal. I knew my mom had spent the day polishing the sterling silverware, that she’d had the housekeeper clean each crystal on the sparkling chandelier over the table.
My skin itched with the need to escape. It was all too much.
Too much formality, too much artifice.
I wanted to be back at the mountain house I shared with Rafe and Nolan — and now Lilah. I craved clean lines and clear surfaces, modernity, spareness.
I couldn’t breathe here.
I smiled at my mom as she fussed over Lilah while we got settled. It was nice, the way she always tried to make things pleasant when we were together, but sad too. It shouldn’t be this hard, should it?
I wondered what it would be like to be part of a family that actually liked each other, one where everyone could be themselves. It was hard to imagine. The only place I’d ever felt like I could be myself was with Rafe and Nolan, and that hadn’t aways been a good thing.
I looked at Lilah and wondered if I’d ever stop feeling shame for what we’d done to her. She was so beautiful and bright, a beam of light cutting through an endless night. We’d almost stamped it out, and the thought almost broke me.
My mom fussed for a bit before taking her seat opposite my dad at one end of the long table. Lilah and I sat on one side while Luke took the other and the housekeeper, Moira, started serving the food.
I could tell Lilah was still nervous, but she made a valiant effort at conversation, exclaiming about how good the lamb smelled, how much she loved brussels sprouts. My mom smiled gratefully at her while my dad and Luke sat silently by.
The first half of the dinner was surprisingly pleasant. Lilah asked a lot of questions about my mom’s garden, and my mom was more than happy to give detailed answers. Lilah asked Luke how he spent his time when he wasn’t working and even seemed interested when he told her about his passion for sailing and golf.
My mom coaxed my dad to talk about a few of his most recent deals and he warmed to the topic when Lilah asked pointed questions that gave him a reason to keep talking.
By the time dessert was served — flourless chocolate hazelnut cake with vanilla whipped cream — I was beginning to think we were going to get out without a major incident. Everyone was on their best behavior, in no small part thanks to Lilah, and I almost started to relax and enjoy myself.
Then my dad cleared his throat. “Bill Masterson is retiring next month.”
“You remember Bill, don’t you, honey?” my mom asked me. “He used to come to the Fourth of July party with his wife, Julie. They have a daughter your age?”
“Hannah.” I used my fork to cut off a bite of the cake. “I remember.”
I couldn’t quite picture her, but I remembered her as one of the kids that ran around the property while our parents tried to pretend they were sober during our annual Fourth of July parties. I think Luke had a crush on her at some point.
“They’re moving to Portugal,” my dad said.
“Wow, that’s a cool way to retire.” The cake was actually really good.
“Luke and his team are going to take over Bill’s portfolio,” my dad said. “Which means Luke’s portfolio will need a new manager, a new team.”
And there it was. The real reason I’d been invited to dinner.
“Sounds like a great opportunity for someone,” I said, still hoping I was wrong.
“Actually,” my dad said, “I was thinking it would be the perfect way for you to finally join the firm.”
I took a drink of my coffee and considered my words. Things were going well. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d all had such a pleasant dinner together.
“I’m happy with the work I’m doing now,” I said. “But I appreciate you thinking of me.”
My dad set down his fork, his gaze hardening. He looked suddenly older and at the same time more formidable. “When exactly are you going to put a stop to this foolishness?”
I felt Lilah stiffen next to me. There was no way to tell her not to worry, that I was practiced in having many versions of this very same conversation with my dad.
“And by foolishness I assume you mean my work?” I asked.
“If by ‘work' you mean gallivanting all over the world, playing soldier and doing whatever nonsense you’re doing to avoid being responsible,” my dad said.
He’d never been ballsy enough to call my work nonsense when I’d been active duty. He hadn’t agreed with my decision to join the military, but he’d known better than to imply that it wasn’t real work, important work.
But since I’d been discharged, since I’d gone into business with Rafe and Nolan, my dad was a lot more liberal with his criticism. I tried to be patient, to see it from his point of view. I’d been vague in explaining the work we did, but he got the picture that we were essentially mercenaries who took violent, dangerous work from the highest bidder.
I was pretty sure there weren’t many parents out there who dreamed about their kids growing up to do what Rafe, Nolan, and I did for a living, which was why I usually tried to let it roll off my back.
Except this time Lilah was here, and we’d just come back from getting her out of a situation that might have ended her life, and that seemed pretty fucking important.
“I don’t expect you to approve of what I do,” I said. “Or even to understand it. But it is what I do, and that’s not going to change anytime soon.”
“When exactly are you going to grow up?” Luke’s question was accompanied by a sneer.
I was still formulating an answer — one that addressed the obvious absurdity of the fact that the question had been asked by someone who’d been born with a silver spoon up his ass, someone who’d never done a single uncomfortable thing — when Lilah spoke at my side.
“Do you even know what Jude does?” She put down her fork and shook her head, then stared at her plate and inhaled a deep shuddering breath before continuing, voice soft but words pointed. “He helps people. He saves people. And he risks his own life to do it. I’m… I’m sorry. I’m a guest here, and I don’t want to be rude, but it seems pretty fucking rude to say that someone who risks his life for other people needs to grow up when you spend your life behind a desk. And the thing is, that’s fine. It doesn’t seem like Jude judges you at all for your choices. So why are you judging him?”
I saw the flash in my dad’s eyes and thought I should have stopped her, should have warned her, but that only lasted about two seconds.
Because fuck that.
Lilah had the right to speak her mind, here and everywhere. Maybe she felt like she hadn’t had a voice before, but she had one now, and I was fucking proud of her for using it, even if it did set fire to the dinner with my family.
That she was using it for me, someone who definitely didn’t deserve it, was something I’d have to think about later.
“Young lady, you are correct.” My dad’s gaze was glacial. “You are a guest in our home. This doesn’t concern you.”
“And if you’re hoping for a white picket fence and a couple of kids, you should probably find another mark,” Luke said with a hateful grin. “My brother’s not the type.”
I stood without thinking and started to lunge across the table for Luke, but my mom’s voice cut through my rage.
“That’s enough! That’s…” She drew in a breath like that would help her get control of a situation that wasn’t remotely salvageable. “That’s enough. I won’t have you acting like animals at my table.”
I threw my napkin on the table and grabbed Lilah’s hand. “That’s fine. We’re leaving anyway.”
My mom stood. “Jude…”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I love you, but this was a bad idea.”
I led Lilah to the door as fast as I could. We shouldn’t have come. My dad and Luke didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Lilah.