Chapter 18
Jordan
“You three can do whatever you want,” Mabel said sweetly. “As long as it’s not sitting on the couch.”
“Oh, it is,” Jordan said.
If his dad wanted to sit on the damn couch in his own house that he worked his whole life to pay for, then that was what the hell they were going to do.
His parents were getting old—his dad specifically had hit that creaky old man stage where he made random noises just for existing.
Jordan had already lost so much time being with him.
Why couldn’t they try to capture the wonder of how something so ordinary, like sitting in comfortable silence with his dad, could feel so special?
Maybe try challenging themselves for once.
“Go get your knucklehead brother.” His dad gently pushed his shoulder. “Meet me in the library.”
Mabel’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth forming a speechless O.
“Really?” Jordan asked. “You sure?”
Library was a bit of a misnomer. A better name for it would’ve been an archive—a private family record of all the memories they’d hidden from the world, curated by his mom and maintained by his dad. Cameras were never allowed in there.
He nodded. “Go.”
The Zaffre library stood apart from the main house much like the bungalow.
Exit through the French doors on the northwest side and follow the short, winding stone path straight to the small cottage.
Sadie had designed the exterior, wanting it to match the whimsy of the pocket forest. She’d plucked both ideas straight out of a book of fairy tales.
Save for a half bath hidden behind a sliding barn door, the interior was one giant open space lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves.
Each wall had its own rolling ladder, vintage-style light bulbs hung from the ceiling on thick ropes, and the furniture had been arranged to guide guests toward the center of the room.
Sometimes, during particularly rough months and when Jordan knew no one was home, he flew to the estate for the weekend. He spent most of his time in the cottage looking at his mom’s newest creations.
They used a shared family cloud drive to upload any pictures that they wanted printed for the albums and scrapbooks. She’d personally made everything in the archive—hundreds of books at this point, working on them no matter where she was in the world before shipping them to the house.
The latest packages had been neatly piled on top of a polished oak desk in the back. “Open them up and stack everything by date over there.” His dad pointed to the utility rack in the opposite corner.
“Why are there so many?” Jordan asked, frowning.
There had to be somewhere close to six months’ worth. His dad usually spent hours in there, reminiscing and tinkering with the reference catalog that numbered and sorted the books.
“Been busy.” He selected a gray-and-pink photo album off the twins’ shelf and sat in the recliner next to the front window. “Hopefully won’t be for much longer.”
Both his parents threw in cryptic little remarks like that from time to time. His dad wanted to retire. His mom wanted to work until she dropped dead. And according to the Retirement storyline, no longer wanting the same things was causing “irreparable” cracks in their marriage.
His parents weren’t getting divorced. But the truth never stopped the writers from turning disagreements into one of the season’s main will they / won’t they questions.
Wylie whacked Jordan in the back with a flat manila envelope and laughed.
“I’ll never understand how you turned out so damn violent.” He snatched it away. “Sort first. Then open. Where are the tags?”
Wylie handed him the color-coded stickies with one hand and flipped the sharp letter opener like a switchblade with the other. “I’m not violent. You’re just soft.”
“Have you ever stopped to think that maybe I’m choosing to go easy on you?” Jordan asked. “Tell you what, why don’t you hit me again and see what happens?”
Wylie eyed him with a defiant grin, but rightfully chose to open the first box instead.
“That’s what I thought.”
Wylie scoffed. “You don’t even know how to fight.”
“Who do you think taught Sadie?” their dad called out as he calmly turned the page. “Those two were running each other ragged before we even planned to have you. He was worse than she is.”
Everyone, including Wylie, was low-key afraid of Sadie and for good reason. A feral mastermind had nothing on a damn supervillain.
Jordan had calmed down over the years with the usual suspects helping him—therapy to get a handle on his emotions, good friendships, hormones leveling out, brain fully developing—and his family had missed most of it. His brother hadn’t had a chance to really get to know him at any age.
“I’m retired now, but I could always rejoin the family business,” he threatened.
“He’s our best-kept secret for a reason,” their dad joked. “Now quit messing around and finish unboxing those.”
While Wylie opened, unpacked, and flattened the boxes, Jordan reviewed the attached handwritten guide card. He tagged the book with the date and right color. They used deep blue when the books were a mixed bag, containing general family memories that took place around the same time.
If the book was primarily centered around one person, they each had their own color. He’d picked forest green for himself and had noticeably fewer books. Jade green Sadie, on the other hand, had the most.
Yes, he picked green because she did. He was six when his parents started the archive. She was his idol and nemesis at that age.
Wylie added three more albums to Jordan’s stack and said, “Send me another list of Zinnia’s books. I read all the other ones.”
“Ask her yourself.”
“No. I can’t just walk up to her and say, ‘Hey, I read all your favorite books. Got any more?’ ”
“Why not? I literally gave you the perfect conversation starter.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” their dad said. He’d moved on to flipping through the twins’ baby album. “Give her a chance to be nice to you.”
“She hates me.”
“She doesn’t,” Jordan and his dad replied in unison.
When in the hell had he reached that conclusion?
“I don’t think it’s even possible for her to hate anyone,” Jordan said. “She’s not like that.”
“She’s as sensitive as you.” Their dad aimed a knowing look straight at Wylie.
“I’m not sensitive.” He spat the word like he’d been insulted.
The resounding silence said otherwise. They went back to sorting until Wylie found an album he wanted to flip through, recapping and laughing at his version of events.
Moments like this always hit Jordan exceptionally, and somehow unexpectedly, hard. Wylie’s stubborn know-it-all insistence on being right all the time and his raucous laughter. The way their dad corrected him and told the real story without putting him down.
He’d ripped out a part of himself when he walked away.
Watched as it withered over the years while he missed out on making important memories with them.
Celebrating Christmas and New Year’s at the end of January was unique.
Friendsgiving and visiting his paternal grandparents was fun.
Sneaking in through staff entrances and sitting alone in the shadows during public milestones was okay because at least he was there.
He lived his life around theirs—always beside and behind it.
The camera permanently stationed over his dad’s shoulder and the second one weaving its way around the room were an all-too-present reminder that things hadn’t really changed. He was still scheduled to leave them again. Back to his life with Zinnia.
Zinnia.
Meeting his wife had irrevocably altered the course of his life for the second time. With her, he wouldn’t have to hide or sneak around. He’d get the chance to make memories worth putting into their own family photo album.
After the last package was open and sorted, Wylie grabbed a blue book off the 2017 shelf and flopped onto a love seat. There were two of them, facing each other with a coffee table in between. Jordan fist-bumped his shin as he walked past to go bother their dad.
“Another one?” He pointed to the twins’ fifth birthday party scrapbook his dad was holding. “You do have two other kids.”
“If you’re so worried about what I’m doing, maybe you should try being more interesting,” his dad teased with a straight face.
It took a frowning beat for the message to click through. “Sneaky old man.”
“Old?” He sounded offended but had an amused twinkle in his eye.
They’d had the same idea, but his dad had more experience to pull it off. If the network couldn’t be creative, he’d do it for them.
Reminiscing for him was a reminder for viewers that the twins’ birthday was coming up.
He was also choosing to share an unseen side of their family with a subtle lesson attached: the value in preserving the ordinary in the digital dark age.
Hopefully inspiring viewers to bring all their wonderful memories into real life like his generation used to do.
Practically winking, saying, You’ll thank me later.
Outside the window, a green blur caught Jordan’s eye as it approached the cabin. Mabel burst through the door yelling, “SECURITY brEACH!” She held her side, gasping in between words. “Security breach at the mall! We need you!”
“What?” his dad roared, jumping to his feet. “When?”
“Just now,” she said, beckoning them to follow. There were two safe rooms in the main house. “We just got word, and I ran straight here. It’s Lazarus again.”
“How?”
“Security suspects a leak and has locked down. Amber and Lulie are unharmed but medical was called to the scene for Zinnia.”
All the air abandoned Jordan’s lungs and his vision wobbled with black streaks. The hallway tilted but Wylie was there, holding him up as they continued marching down the hall.
“Stay focused,” his brother ordered. “Don’t panic.”
“She’s hurt? Are they taking her to a hospital?”
But no one else was listening. Instead of the safe room, Mabel had led them to the office near the front entrance. Head of Security Timothy immediately began briefing his dad on what they suspected had happened—a well-plotted clusterfuck from top to bottom.
Hera was safe and secured. Amber.
Artemis was safe and secured. Lulie.
All Greek Statues were safe and secured. Camera pod personnel.
Three male perpetrators had been arrested—one had been escorted to the hospital.
Police were collecting statements from all employees present during the attack.
Incandescent rage rushed through Jordan’s body. An eye twitching, conscious thought erasing, fists clenching, teeth grinding kind of anguish that started in his chest, increasing with every incredulous heartbeat he went without hearing them say her name.
“Where is my wife?” Everyone turned to stare at him with shocked faces. “Did you all really just forget she exists too? WHERE IS SHE?”
Wylie quickly stepped away from him only for Mabel to bravely take his place. “Zinnia is okay.” She mimed taking deep breaths. “They’re on their way here with a police escort. They’ll be here soon.”
“And she’s with them?”
“Yes. I made sure of it myself.”
Jordan locked eyes with his dad over the top of her head.
Regret filled his dad’s eyes for only a moment before it slipped away.
He didn’t have time to apologize or admit the glaring oversight.
Now was the time to lead, to make sure his family was safe and protected.
“I want everyone in-house who knew about the surprise trip today questioned immediately,” his dad ordered.
“Already underway,” Timothy affirmed. “We’ll find the leak.”
Fifteen unbearable minutes later, they ran out the front door to meet the two SUVs skidding to a stop in the roundabout driveway.
If his dad had been any stronger, he would’ve ripped the doors off its hinges. Lulie leaped straight into his arms. His mom slid across the seat and hopped out, joining the hug.
Safe and secure.
Zinnia exited the second SUV alone. She closed the door and watched his parents and siblings with a bemused look on her face.
Jordan took the steps two at a time. It was a miracle he didn’t fall and break his neck. He vaguely heard his mom call him as he captured Zinnia in a bear hug.
All of him had twisted into a ferocious and desolate knot. It’d left him misshapen and aimless, unable to do anything. Seeing her, holding her, felt like a cramp letting go, returning him back to normal.
She was home. She was safe.
“You’re okay?” He searched her face for any signs she wasn’t. “You’re not hurt?”
“Kind of? I lost feeling in my hand for a little while. They don’t think it’s broken,” she said, sounding breathless. “I accidentally punched that guy.”
“Accidentally?”
“Accidentally…on purpose,” she admitted sheepishly. “I swear it just happened! I tried to apologize but—”
“No!” Lulie twisted away from their parents. Dark makeup clumped in her lashes and ran down her face in dried streaks. “She didn’t just punch him! She kicked the shit out of him! Alfie! She—”
“Okay, why don’t we go inside?” Their dad turned Lulie around, ushering her toward the house.
“Dad, no, wait, listen to me!” Lulie emphatically pointed at Zinnia. “She was incredible! You weren’t there! She saved me! I need to take kickboxing classes!”
ZnO2 Group Chat
ZINNIA: Love you both but I’m not scrolling up to read all that
ZINNIA: jk yes I am
ZINNIA: I can’t answer the phone right now. They’re having family time. I don’t think I’m allowed to leave
ZINNIA: I mean, I wasn’t personally invited to their giant puppy pile on the couch but I am near it because I’m with Jordan
GRACE: It’s all over the news! What happened?
GRACE: You were there, weren’t you?
ZINNIA: Yeah. I’m the unnamed friend
ZINNIA: “disarmed” is inaccurate. I *incapacitated* him
GRACE: Fiona is too upset to type but she says she loves you.
ZINNIA: I love her too. I promise I’m fine!
ZINNIA: Oh and Jordan had nothing to do with it. No need to threaten to kill him.
GRACE: Why would Jordan be involved?
ZINNIA: Because they’re really stretching this prank within an inch of its life. I can’t believe they’re letting the media run wild like this
GRACE: Prank?
ZINNIA: They even ordered pizza for *dinner.* As in someone else who is not Amber or an approved chef made it
GRACE: Zinnia.
GRACE: Please call me. As soon as you can. I don’t care if Jordan is there too. Please just call me tonight. It doesn’t matter what time. I’ll be up.
GRACE: I just need to see your face and hear your voice. Please.