CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

CANYON MOON — HARRY STYLES
I'm going home!

SINCE STARTING THEIR journey back to Kildare, the Pogues had stopped twice to refuel. Once in Saint Lucia and another in Puerto Rico. Island hopping had been surprisingly easy, and each time, the others had left to find food while Stella and JJ were stuck on refuelling duty.

Stella watched as JJ filled the boat with gas, letting her mind wander as her gaze fixated on him. The cell reception was horrible when John B called earlier and static filled the spaces between his words, but him saying 'I found my father' was clear enough. The phone call left her with more questions than answers and she found herself reminiscing about the only father figure she had.

"Do you remember when Big John taught you how to drive?" she asked, breaking the silence between her and the blond.

JJ took her question in stride and nodded with a huff of false annoyance.

As the oldest of the group, Stella made it her mission to learn how to drive first. Even though she was only thirteen at the time, she begged her mother to to teach her. The surgeon told her no and that she could wait until she was sixteen like everyone else her age. But Stella was both impatient and stubborn. When her birthday approached, the only gift she asked for was a driving lesson. This time, instead of asking her mother, she asked Big John who was more than happy to bring her to an empty parking lot to make her happy. Stella always had a tendency of getting what she wanted. And naturally, John B and JJ asked for the same thing for their birthdays. It was only fair.

The day JJ turned fourteen, Big John let him drive his beat up pick-up truck across the island to Stella's new house on Figure Eight. It wasn't the first time he ever drove, but it was the first time an adult cared about what he was doing. Driving his dad's truck in the middle of the night because he was too intoxicated to do it himself was different from learning the rules of the road that would allow him to get a license.

Admittedly, his past experience made him arrogant. He didn't listen to Big John when he corrected him. He turned too fast, hit the breaks too late, was heavy on the gas pedal, and shifted gears too early. Every time Big John said something, John B and Stella teased him from the backseat. The constant corrections paired with their snickering got too overwhelming and he turned to shout at them. The distraction was enough for him to turn the wheel and run over a mailbox. Big John was pissed.

"How could I forget?" JJ said, looking up at her. "He made me detail his truck. The thing was a piece of shit too."

A short laugh fell from Stella's lips before they settled into a small smile. "It's hard to believe he's been alive this whole time. I wonder why he didn't call."

JJ pursed his lips. "I just hope it was for a good reason."

"I guess we'll figure that out when we get home."

The mention of home made JJ look away. He finished refuelling without saying another word, and Stella let out a sigh. While she was returning to her life, he was returning to nothing more than stress. His dad was gone, he had no money, and his restitution was still unpaid. There was nothing left for him. Really, the only upside he had for returning was moving into Marx Mansion. She didn't blame him for feeling a little lost.

"We'll figure it out, J." Her voice was reassuring and it felt like a warm embrace. She had a talent for convincing him they would. "We always do."

JJ believed her. They were Pogues. As long as they were breathing, everything would be fine.

He gave her a tightlipped smile before making his way back onto the boat. Throwing an arm around her shoulders, he settled in beside her and they talked about everything and nothing until footsteps sounded behind them.

Thanks to the cash Rafe stored on the boat, Sarah and Kie were able to buy more drinks. Not long after, Pope and Cleo returned with food and a story about how bad the former's accent was.

The trip took them four days, ten hours, and twenty-eight minutes. Each second was spent wondering what would come next.

The topic of parents was one they they stayed on for a while, constantly revisiting it during their journey. Kie was terrified that she'd be shipped off to some wilderness camp the moment her parents saw her and Pope and Stella were worried about what their parents would say.

JJ, Sarah, and Cleo didn't contribute much to the conversation. They didn't have parents—not ones who were law-abiding, alive, or cared about them, anyway. They tried not to let anyone see how much it bothered them, but Stella was observant. So, as casually as she could so they wouldn't feel like they were burdens, she offered them a room in her house. Marx Mansion had far too many guest rooms and her mother had an open door policy for a reason.

JJ already agreed, Cleo had already taken up Pope's offer to stay with him, and Sarah was grateful for the kindness.

"Cleo, you sure you wanna slum it with Pope?" JJ questioned, his hands playing with the laces of Stella's shoes in his lap. "Marx Mansion's got a heated swimming pool."

Cleo's eyebrows raised. "Damn, Stella, you live like that?"

"There's a bedroom with your name on it," Stella deflected with a shrug.

Cleo thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. A teasing smile spread across her face as she threw her arm around Pope's shoulder. "Nah," she said, "I think I'll stick with this one and see what poor souls got stuck raising him."

Pope rolled his eyes and pushed her off, but everyone could see the ghost of an amused smile threatening its way across his features.

When they saw the familiar coastline of the Outer Banks, they felt relief and dread settle on their shoulders. Their little vacation was over and it was time to return to reality. Poguelandia was nothing but a memory now.

The first thing Sarah wanted to do when they docked the boat was check on John B. Stella insisted that she come along, but her friends could see the conflict on her face. Check on her brother or reunite with her mother.

Sarah urged her to find Emma, but the golden girl claimed that she couldn't go without John B. Her mother would want to see them both. Thankfully, JJ found a solution and suggested that they find Emma and bring her to the Chateau to see John B and his father later. It would save them a trip.

As the group, minus Sarah, walked Kie home, all Stella could think about was what her mother would say. Their last conversation was the closest thing to an argument they've had. Not only that, but she snuck out of the house and went missing for nearly six weeks. How would she even begin to apologize for that? Would her mother be mad? Would she be more disappointed than she already was?

JJ could feel the anxiety radiating off of her in waves. It wasn't until after dropping Kie off that he suggested that they make a stop at his house. He needed clothes, and it would give her time to think about what to say and hopefully calm down.

They parted ways with Cleo and Pope and walked down the familiar streets of their hometown. They missed it, whether cared to admit it or not.

Soon, they were walking up the Maybank's front lawn. Almost immediately, they could sense something was different. The mess of broken car parts and old boat magazines that were constant fixtures of decor were gone and the back porch was clean, free of empty bottles and crushed beer cans. The ripped screen lining the deck had been replaced and the overgrown grass wasn't nearly as long as it should've been.

JJ tried to open the back door, but it didn't budge. That in itself was enough to raise a brow because the lock had been broken for two years now. "Okay, what the hell?"

Stella wandered off to the side where the window was and looked into the house. Her hands cupped the sides of her face in an attempt to block out the rising sun, and when her vision focused, her mouth fell open in shock.

Everything was clean. The kitchen counter, the dining table, the floor—everything. In all her years of knowing JJ, she had never seen his house clean. Ever.

"It's empty."

JJ looked over. "What?"

Stella merely pointed at the window. "Someone emptied the place out."

JJ rushed over and peered inside, his heart dropping at the thought of anyone going through his room. He hated his house, but it was still his house. The ghosts of it raised him and whispers of agony kept him company in his darkest days. "What the fuck?"

The pair rounded the side of the house and pulled JJ's bedroom window open. The lock was still flimsy as ever and their shared experience of sneaking in and out of it made entering as easy as breathing.

What caused even more confusion was that JJ's bedroom was untouched. There were still dirty clothes strewn about and half drunken pop cans on his bedside table. The garbage bag that hung on the back of his closet door still needed to be replaced and mold grew on dirty dishes.

"This doesn't make any sense," JJ said after checking the rest of his house. His bedroom was the only dirty room.

Stella, who'd been sitting on the bed waiting for him, came to a conclusion early on. It was a gut feeling, like something was telling her that her mother was involved. "Do you remember what my mom did when we thought John B died?" she questioned slowly.

JJ gave it some thought. "Yeah, she... She bought the Chateau," he replied, his voice flooded with realization. "You don't think she bought this place, do you?"

She shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised." It was extreme, but if her mother had done it before, she was capable of doing it again.

A huff fell from his mouth as a feeling so forgotten made its way up his throat. Sometimes he forgot that Stella had a foot in both worlds. That she was considered a Pogue by birth but a Kook by circumstance. Her mother was generous and made more money than she needed. Stella got weekly allowances since they started high school and she didn't have to worry about money the way he did. Bitterness settled on his tongue as he muttered, "I mean, what else can you do with all that Kook money, right?"

He regret his words as soon as he said it. It came from a place of inferiority and they both knew it. It was the curse of vulnerability—having someone who knew him inside and out. Stella would know every insecurity he had from a simple sentence.

Although quiet, his tone caught Stella's attention. A line buried itself between her brows as she stared at him. "Sounding a little jaded there, J."

A brief pause of silence fell between them as he began to shove his clothes into a duffel bag. He didn't look at her. "I'm just saying not many people can afford to buy one house, let alone three. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Right," Stella nodded, unconvinced. She had an inkling of what the problem was. She also knew that further questioning would back him into a corner and the conversation would end in an argument. They could revisit the topic another time.

Getting off the bed and walking towards his closet, she had a new goal in mind. Looking around, she saw that half of his clothes were on the floor, but there were a few hoodies hung on the rod and shirts haphazardly folded in his dresser.

When JJ looked up, he found her with a mountain of clothes in her arms. Whatever bitterness he felt melted away as he watched her try and keep a hold of everything. "Going shopping, Mrs. Maybank?"

Stella tossed the pile onto the bed and placed a hand on her hip, tilting her head slightly. "What's yours is mine, right?"

He said nothing, but shook his head and rolled his eyes with affection. Then, he leaned over and shoved them into his bag.

They could talk about it another time.

DOCTOR EMMA MARX was trained to expect the unexpected. Her medical career relied on her ability to adapt to new situations and process information faster than the average person. It was in the job description and she didn't become one of the best surgeons in her field for no reason. However, all of her years of practice did not prepare her for motherhood.

Motherhood humbled her. It stole her sleep and raised her blood pressure. It made her smile, laugh, cry, and pout. Nothing could have prepared her for a baby with colic or being criticized by older mothers in the grocery store. Or being a single mom in a loveless marriage then leaving for both their safeties. Or taking care of her daughter's friends like they were her own.

Motherhood shifted her perspective and opened up the world as if she had been on the outside of a special club. She always knew she wanted kids. Her husband at the time did too. They tried and tried but nothing ever came of it until one day, she found herself staring at a positive pregnancy test in the bathroom of the hospital during a night shift.

Stella was a hard pregnancy. The morning sickness didn't pair well with her aspiring career. But it was worth it to experience the joy of watching Stella learn about the world and form a personality so different yet so similar to her own.

Sometimes, when Stella was young and still demanded bedtime stories, Emma would stay a little longer after she fell asleep and just watch her. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, the chubbiness of her cheeks, the potential she had to be anything and everything she wanted.

Stella was smart kid, Emma realized that early on. She learned how to walk, talk, read, and write earlier than the parenting books said she would. When she was ten, she built a dirt bike engine all on her own. She was the top of her class every year and won every science fair trophy. But above all, Stella was kind. She made good choices. She was everything Emma hoped she would be and more.

When Stella and her friends went missing six weeks ago, Emma couldn't help but feel like a failure. She knew her daughter and her friends had been having a rough time. She was more than concerned, so why didn't she say or do anything helpful sooner? All she did was voice her disappointment.

A part of her felt like it was her fault. Nothing could have prepared her for finding Stella's bedroom empty, learning that she snuck out after their argument. And when the Heywards and the Carreras called her asking where their kids where, she had no idea what to say. Their kids never came home.

So she threw herself into her work. She couldn't worry about the kids if there was a person on her operating table. Everyone at the hospital knew it as well so they let her take the extra shifts and work herself to the bone. They all felt Stella's absence.

Around the end of the first month, there were whispers in the hospital theorizing Stella's death. It was a group of interns making conversation at lunch, completely unaware of their attending listening from the side of the room. Emma lost it, her angry voice carrying through the rest of the floor. It was a miracle that her boss didn't write her up for it.

That day, everyone learned not to speak poorly about Stella or her friends. They also learned that before she was a doctor, Emma Marx was a mother. A protective one, at that.

Emma was in the middle of a surgery when her boss walked into her operating room with one her colleagues by his side. The Chief of Surgery told her that Dr. Shaw would be taking over and that she needed to talk to him in his office. Apparently, it was urgent.

"I was in the middle of a laparotomy," she stressed, hand running over her hair. She followed behind her boss closely. "My hands were literally in somebody's bowels, what is so important?"

The Chief gave her a look, failing to speak until they approached his office door. As his hand wrapped around the doorknob, he smiled as if he knew something she didn't.

When the door opened, she felt her heart stop.

Standing in the middle of the room was Stella and JJ, the former fidgeting with her fingers and looking too nervous to face her.

"Stella?" Emma breathed out.

JJ nudged the girl forward and she gave a small wave. "Hi."

The tension Emma had been holding in her shoulders rolled down her back and fell at her feet. Finally, it felt like she could breathe again. Rushing forward, she crossed the room with open arms. "Oh, Stella," she said, holding her tight.

Stella's chin rested on her mother's shoulders and she could feel the guilt climb up her throat. She thought about what to say ten times over, forming a script to follow in her mind. But now that the moment called for it, she forgot everything she had planned. Tears lined her lashes and fell down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she lamented. "I'm so sorry. You were probably so worried and I—"

"I'm sorry," Emma interrupted, placing her hands on her cheeks. She refused to hear anything Stella had to say. If she wanted forgiveness, she had it. If she wanted trust, they could build it. All that mattered to her right now was that her daughter was safe. "The last thing I told you was how disappointed in you I was, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. We can talk about everything later, I'm just happy to see you."

Emma's gaze averted to the blond boy standing behind them. His arms were at his sides and he was waiting for them to have their moment before greeting the woman who helped raise him.

"Hey, Mama Marx," he said, giving her a lopsided smile.

The doctor pulled away from her daughter and shook her head. "Come here, JJ." Reaching for him, she gave him a hug equally as tight as the one she gave Stella. "I missed you, kid."

He gave her a squeeze. Sometimes he thought about his relationship with Emma and got emotional. There was no doubt in his mind that she saved him. He wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for her making sure he had food, clothes, and a place to go when things got bad with his dad. He completely forgot about her buying his house. "I missed you too, Em."

She pulled away, keeping one hand on his shoulder while placing the other one on her daughter's. "Let me get a look at you two. Are you two okay? Where's John B?"

The two teens shared a look. "He's at the Chateau with, uh, with Big John."

Emma paused, thinking she may have misheard them. When their faces remained stoic, she realized they were serious. "John's alive?"

Stella nodded. "There's a lot to tell you."

The Chief stepped forward, discreetly wiping his tears away from the touching reunion, and smiled. Turning to face Emma, he gave an encouraging nod. "Take the rest of day," he said, "spend it with your daughter."

Emma nodded. Her eyes were slightly widened. She wasn't a workaholic, but it was rare for her to get spontaneous days off. She was a busy doctor, the head of the trauma department with countless people on her service. But being a mother came first and her boss, who had kids of his own, understood that. She thanked him then turned to the teens. "Okay. Yeah. Let me grab my things and we'll swing around the Chateau."

As she left the room, JJ and Stella could see her pass people through the frosted window. Before the door completely shut behind her, they could hear her cheerful voice say, "My babies are home!"

THE DAY BIG John went missing was burned into Stella's memory.

The sun was starting to set, casting the island in a golden glow. The autumn air was crisp and the leaves were starting to fall. Stella was about to leave for dinner with her new Kook friends when John B showed up on her porch, angry and in tears. She ended up cancelling her plans.

Before he even entered the house, John B was already spewing his frustrations. His frantic voice caught Emma's attention and she joined them in the kitchen where John B told them about his fight with his father. Big John wanted to sell the Twinkie and his treasure-hunting obsession had gotten out of hand. His father told him not to come back and John B had no plans to.

Emma was infuriated and welcomed John B in with open arms before marching down to the Chateau to give Big John a piece of her mind. She came back with a bag of clothes for him.

Stella could remember how hurt John B was, even hours after settling into his guest room. At midnight, he knocked on her door and they spent the night on her balcony talking about how his father didn't care and the Royal Merchant gold would always come first.

John B stayed for three days before deciding to go home. When he did, he found that his father had disappeared and took all the rent money with him.

Stella tried not to harbour any resentment towards the older man, but it was hard when she thought about that night. She didn't like it when people were mean to her friends, even if those people were their parents.

When Emma's Audi pulled into the dirt driveway of the Chateau, Stella was the first to jump out. JJ followed closely behind and shouted John B's name. As the couple walked around the side of the house, they were met with him and Big John having a heated conversation.

"Big J, back from the dead!" JJ shouted, cussing the two Routledges to look up.

A smile broke across Big John's face as the blond jogged over to him. "JJ," he greeted. A grunt fell from his mouth as JJ jumped on his back. "Still causing trouble?"

"Like it's my middle name, man."

Stella stopped behind them and waited for her turn. Despite her lingering bitterness over the circumstances of his disappearance, she missed him.

Big John turned to her with open arms. "Mrs. Maybank," he grinned.

Stella laughed. "John B told you?"

"Of course," he nodded. "Your mom and I always saw it coming. I gotta be honest, kid. I'm gutted I wasn't at the wedding."

Stella's smile faltered as she tried not to question why he wasn't. There were a lot of things she didn't know yet like where he was, if he was in danger, why he didn't call. But instead of prying, she pulled away. "You'll be invited to the next one," she promised.

Emma turned the corner and her stare gravitated to the kids. A part of her just wanted to make sure that they didn't disappear again. "John!" she shouted after visually checking over John B. After hugging John B, she embraced the older man and patted him on the back. "I'm glad you're okay. You are okay, right?"

He nodded. "I'm good, Em."

"Oh, good. That means I don't have to worry about hurting your feelings." Her tone changed as she turned to the three teenagers and nodded at the house. "Kids, go inside."

"Why—"

Her stare hardened. "Go."

"Yup, okay, let's go," the teens chorused, pushing one another to the Chateau.

When they were gone, Emma turned to the older man and shoved him, causing him to stumble back. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she questioned, her voice laced with pure anger.

Big John huffed. "And here I thought you'd be happy to see me, Em."

"You were alive this entire time and you didn't think call? You didn't think to send a message, a letter, a goddamn carrier pigeon to your teenage son that you were okay? That he didn't need to grieve you? He was alone, John!"

"He wasn't alone," he denied. "He had you."

"Has me," Emma corrected. She was sharp and unforgiving. "He still has me. Do you want to know why? Because he's my boy. He went through hell and back while you were God knows where. He was framed for a crime he didn't commit. He was arrested and presumed dead. And who did they call? Me. Who made sure he was fed? Me. Who kept the lights on? Consoled him? Kept a roof over his head? Who was there, John? Me."

He winced, knowing he deserved every word. "And I appreciate that, Emma. I do. But when I left, I left to keep him safe."

Emma scoffed. "When you left, he showed up on my door step saying you took all the rent money with you. You left him to fend for himself. What kind of a parent does that?" There was a pause before she hit him where it hurt. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

With the words out in the open, she turned on her heel with a final glare and made her way into the Chateau.

John B, Stella, and JJ, who were waiting on the back porch, scrambled into the living room once they saw that she was coming. They tried to act nonchalant with Stella and John B on the couch and JJ with his head in the fridge, but Emma knew they had been eavesdropping.

"You guys aren't sneaky," she said, closing the back door behind her. "I know you heard everything."

"Us?" JJ questioned, looking back at her. He shook his head. "I didn't even know you were here, I could've sworn you were at the hospital. Right, Stel?"

"Hm?" Stella tilted her head before catching on. "Oh, yeah. Right. Totally not listening in. But if we were—"

"Which we weren't. But if we were—"

"You really showed him."

"Very badass, Em."

Stella gave her mother a meek smile before standing up. "We're going to wait in the other room. Come on, J."

The blond shut the fridge and followed after her. "Coming, dear!"

Emma shook her head at them and turned to John B. She sat next to him and patted his knee, giving him the comfort only a mother could. Admittedly, he didn't know what it meant for relationship with Emma now that his dad was back. A part of him wanted to avoid the conversation, but it was too late to run. Fortunately, Emma was a very understanding woman.

"I know we didn't have time to sign the adoption papers, but they're in my office at home," she started. "If that's something you still want, we can do it. If it's not, then that's okay too."

A small sigh fell from her lips. As she stared into the eyes of the boy who was hers in everything but blood, she realized that this was another thing about motherhood nothing prepared her for. Letting them go.

"I understand you want to spend time with your dad, so don't worry about hurting my feelings. I would never want you to chose between us, okay? I'll love you no matter what and I need to know that. I just wanted to remind you that my house will always be your house too. It has been since Stella brought you around."

John B felt relief settle on his shoulders. No adult had ever cared about him the way she had and he was lucky the universe decided to gift him with her. "That's good," he nodded, growing emotional. He was always the most sensitive out of their friend group. "I was kind of getting used to my bedroom."

Emma laughed. Her hand rested on his shoulder and her smile softened. "I love you, John B."

"I love you too, Mom— Mama Marx."

"It's okay, kid. Mom will do just fine."

She gave his knee one last pat before standing up and walking towards the hall. "I'll be waiting in the car!" she shouted, not bothering to wait for her daughter and her best friend.

She was gone when Stella and JJ re-emerged. They heard the entire conversation, but knew better than to mention it. If they did, John B would probably burst into tears.

"Sarah, uh—" John B cleared his throat. "She went to Tannyhill to grab some clothes, said she was going to yours after."

"Okay," Stella nodded.

John B's head was turned, staring at his father in the backyard. He looked guilty, like he was hiding something from them.

The couple shared a look. "Anything else?" JJ asked.

John B shook his head. "No, no."

He was a terrible liar but Stella decided not to pry. It's been a busy day for all of them. "Alright, well, you know we're always here for you if you need it."

When the couple left, Stella turned to JJ with furrowed brows. "He's hiding something, right?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded. "Definitely acting weird."

RAE SPEAKS!
i have writers block y'all 😪

dr. emma marx: