July 14, 2022

My eyes widened. "You... what?"

"I said, I forbid you," John repeated. His hands were calmly folded in his lap, his legs crossed one over the other as he reclined in his easy chair, and he was dressed as though minutes away from retiring to the bedroom with his wife. But his jaw was set, his eyes hard, and his tone firm.

This was no idle warning.

"But why?" I asked him, still confused.

John rolled his eyes. "I've already explained it to you. Did you listen?"

"I did, it's- just not making any sense!"

"Only because you don't know what I know."

"It's a fantastic opportunity, John!"

"For her, perhaps- but for you? No. It's far too dangerous."

"How? It's just tea!"

"Tea with that woman- especially now, considering what she suspects, or worse, knows about you? It could never be 'just tea.'" He gestured quotation marks with his fingers on "just tea."

I folded my arms. "John, I understand that you're very wary of Brian and Roger; I don't know the whole story, but I respect that. But- don't you think getting all suspicious over Mary is a bit much?"

As soon as Danny and I had returned to the Deacons' house from our lark about London, and more specifically, Kensington, I had sat John and Veronica down on the sofa and breathlessly gushed about our surreal encounter with the one and only Mary Austin. Needless to say, I had not expected the reaction I received, especially where John was concerned. I had never seen him look so horrified.

When I reached the part about Mary wanting me and my boy to join her for tea, that was the last straw- and had at last coaxed that three-word ultimatum from the man's throat. And I didn't understand.

"We haven't even committed to anything yet," I went on, trying to ease his worries. "It was probably just a generic invitation anyway- just a throwaway remark, one she never meant to live up to."

"Unlikely. She's not that kind of woman. If she doesn't want you there, she won't pretend that she does."

"How do you know?"

He shook his head. "You just have to trust me. All right?"

I gave him wry little smile. "As a great man once said, 'Trust, but verify.'"

"Julia, as Danny's godfather, and as your friend, listen to me," he whispered. "Don't do it. Don't just walk right into the trap."

"Trap?" I shook my head. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I do. And I mean every word."

"Even if she does get in touch with me, John- what could you possibly fear will happen that's worth all this- this angst, all these foreboding remarks-"

"Good God!" John's nasal voice sharpened. "How can you even ask me that with such a f---ing straight face? Don't you remember-"

"SHH! Please!" I pointed toward the stairs, reminding him of how his voice was carrying a little too well and how although Danny was busy trying to decide on a bedtime story, he still had a way of showing up unannounced at all the wrong times. He had a lot of quirky little habits I was trying to break him of, like the way he tended to leave all the doors (the ones whose handles he could reach, anyway) wide open, even the ones for the bathroom and the fridge.

"Sorry." John tried again, but more softly. "Don't you remember, Julia? The stories you told me? Things weren't exactly chummy between you two."

"She can't honestly still be hung up on that whole ordeal. That was forty-five years ago."

He nodded solemnly. "Exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"It was forty-five years ago- but you've scarcely aged a fraction of that time. Imagine how that must scald her."

"Yes- but it is she who won just the same." With a sigh, I twiddled with the ring on my finger. "He was hers till the end- and she has a plethora of good and bad times to look back on-"

"Exactly!" He said again. "Julia, you are proving my point! All she has anymore are her memories. All she has to cling to is the past."

"Then we have something in common, don't we?" I blurted.

For a few moments neither of us said a word. My throat was too tight now to squeeze any words through it. I had just proved yet another issue John often took me to task over.

Just like Mary, I lived in the world of yesterday. I knew it well enough to admit it. I cannot count how many times, in person or over the phone, he and Veronica had assumed the roles of my surrogate parents, urging me to find a way to carry on with life, maybe even allow myself to find love elsewhere with a nice young man who would treasure us the way we deserved to be treasured. So frequently they told me that I couldn't go on pining away for my prince, especially since there wasn't a chance in Heaven or Hell he was ever coming back- or that, conversely, I would ever find the way to return to him.

All I wanted was for Danny to know who his father was- but not through the twisted words of the people who called themselves his friends, and not through the depiction of him as presented in the film (which admittedly upset both the boy and myself; I never saw any child so frightened by a mustache). I wanted him to know him the way I knew him, to see his father as a man to be proud to have, to love as much as is possible to love someone you only know through pictures, songs, and stories.

And perhaps, in that mission, I had bypassed most everything else concerning relationships or a social life- but to be honest, in my mind, it would not have made much difference. For deep in my soul I knew, that I really could not love again. Certainly not like I loved Freddie. He had spoiled me for the rest of the world- and the rest of my life.

But I didn't mind. In fact, it was by design. No other man would ever have my heart. No other man could be what my prince became to me. Yes, perhaps in a weak, doubting moment I had left him. And I still had yet to really forgive myself for such an act, but in the meantime, I would nonetheless be as faithful a "wife" to him as I knew how to be.

It was the least I could do.

"Mommy?" Danny appeared at the top of the stairs, breaking the silence at last. "I picked one!"

I turned my head, and forced my mouth into a smile. "Which one, sweetie?"

"The Sneetches book."

"Good choice!"

He came further down the stairs. "Can we read the 'Daves' one too?"

"All right. That one's pretty short." I stood.

"And the one with the ghost-pants?"

I stifled a laugh. "Sure- but you have to help me read it as well."

"Kay!"

With a little grunt, John rose from his chair. "Right. I think I've talked your ears off enough for one night. The old man's off to bed."

"Night, Uncle John," Danny sang.

John strode over to the boy and wrapped him in a bear hug. "Good night, little man. See you in the morning."

"Mm-hm," Danny hummed, before breaking away. "Come on, Mom!"

"Just a second. I gotta say good night myself." With that, I leaned over to kiss Deacy's cheek. As soon as the words "Good night, John" had left my lips, Danny grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stairs. He wanted story time now, apparently, and not a moment later.

"Danny!" I exclaimed, in reality only half-irritated- even though I sounded plenty annoyed as he tried to drag me away, leaving John to chuckle softly to himself.

Regardless of John's dire warnings, I still felt compelled somehow to return to Garden Lodge before our week in London drew to a close- as if some strange force was enticing me. I felt unsettled, unresolved- as though all of a sudden I had questions I never thought to ask, and that solely within the high walls of Mary Austin's inherited estate, would I find the answers. Seeing her made me realize again, how much I needed closure. What kind of closure, exactly, I was not sure- but closure desirable enough to brave her once more for it.

I just can't believe she recognized me, I marveled. Forty-five years and she still knew me. I wonder what it is she wants to discuss?

The real trick, though, would be getting around John. Surely he knew me too well to assume I would be hindered by a simple "I forbid you." Or maybe he would? Who knew. I simply worried what the man would do, should he find out I went so blatantly against his wishes.

Danny was all curled up under the covers by this point, his restless little hands patting at the hard book cover. "Ready?"

Good Lord, he's as pushy as his father."Sure, one sec, I have to take my contacts out."

"Kay."

Before I could do so, though, there was a knock at the bedroom door. Obediently I walked over to answer- and, not surprisingly, found John standing there, staring at me with a very obvious 'How stupid do you think I am' look on his face.

"What is it?" I asked quietly.

He sighed. "You're going over there tomorrow, aren't you?"

I folded my arms. "What gives you that idea?"

"I can see it in your eyes."

"But you've forbidden me."

"Yeah, well," he scoffed. "Forbidding does about as much good with you as it used to do with him."

Cheeks flushing, I shrugged. "What can I say?"

For a second or so, he looked me over, until his bottom lip began to tremble ever so slightly. Quietly, then, John wrapped his arms around me, and held tight. So tight I almost couldn't breathe.

"Be careful, Julia," he murmured into my ear. "I mean it."

I smiled. "Don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on Danny. I promise."

He swallowed. "I'm not talking about Danny."

It was sweet to know that Deacy was so protective of me as well as of his godson. "I can handle myself, John," I assured him.

"Mm," he said dryly. "I've never heard that before."

I had to laugh. "Good night, Deaks- and thank you."

He said nothing in reply, and instead shook his head incredulously, disappearing down the stairs as I closed the door.

"Mommy!" Danny spurred impatiently from the bed. "Come oooon!"

I put my hands on my hips, facing my son. "Not if you strike that tone with me, hot shot."

He shrank back a little, switched tactics. "Sorry. Please may we read now?"

"That's better," I smiled. "Thank you." I seated myself next to him, settling back against the pillows so I could hold the book in such a way he could see the pictures.

"Who do you want to start? You or me?" I asked.

"You first. Please."

"Very well." I flipped to the first page, making a mental note to myself to let Danny know sometime between now and the last page of the "ghost-pants" story that we would be returning once again to the "creepy house" tomorrow. I admit, I knew it was dangerous. That had not escaped me in the least. Mary had seemed nice enough that afternoon, true, and perhaps we could indeed let bygones be bygones- but just the same, I needed to be on my guard.

A great deal could happen within a woman's heart in just one night.

Sal here! Just as an FYI, the next one shot will be a sort of combination of two ideas as provided by @enka90 and @lexmercury. I have not forgotten- it's just the main story has taken up so much time and mental work, but this is definitely coming. ;)