Little Secrets (Part 2)

There may as well have been weights in Jebidiah's shoes. Each wooden step was a mountain for his heavy stride, held down by the weight of his broken pride. To say his age had finally caught up with him would be an understatement; tonight, he felt twice his years... He felt gray, shriveled, and weak.

The warmth his son's house emitted seemed to melt this away as he approached; it radiated the same hopeful, tender emotions you'd expect to feel looking at a lighted tree on Christmas morning. Just beyond that door was the laughter of children and the happiness of a family reunited--and yet here he was, an outsider, looking in as if he were Ebenezer Scrooge recounting the error of his ways.

He really couldn't help but notice that he had a lot in common with Mr. Scrooge, lately.

He gathered his courage, but Jebidiah still felt his finger quiver as he lifted it to gently press in the doorbell. It rang, so he waited as patiently as he could.

After a moment, he finally heard the sound of muffled voices and pounding feet; he could see Bradley descending the stairs to greet him, but the moment he saw his son's face he knew he shouldn't have come.

"Dad," Bradley said in a dull tone as he pulled the door open. Jeb nodded, waiting for more, but it ended up being his son's only greeting.

"Son," Jeb offered with a weak smile. "I--I uh... wanted to come and see how Margo is doing, after everything that's happened. I feel dreadful, Bradley--this is never something I would have wished on anyone, let alone my granddaughter."

"I sure hope not," Bradley mumbled under his breath as he looked away, averting his eyes towards something within the house. "Look," he finally continued, this time audibly. "I really appreciate you stopping by, and showing concern, but Dad... Alesha and I have been doing some talking, and we decided that... it's just best if  you don't come by anymore."

Jebidiah scowled, opening his mouth to respond, but before he could Brad continued.

"Dad, I'm really sorry. I know you never intended for any of this to happen, but as long as you're in our life, things like what happened to Margo could keep happening, and I don't want that for my family. I want them safe. I want my girls raised away from--well, Dad--your influence. Until you change your life around..." Brad took a deep breath, casting his gaze to the floor. "You're not welcome in ours. I'm... I'm sorry."

"I understand." It was all Jeb managed to say; he knew it was coming, but actually hearing it spoken aloud cut him deeper than a father ever should feel. His own son didn't want him in his life. He shouldn'tve been surprised--it had happened before--but this time, it wasn't an overreaction. It was what any sensible person would have done.

Bradley's eyes seemed sad as he nodded recognition to his Jeb's words, but as if saying 'I gotta go', he pursed his lips and ducked his head, silently pushing the door closed as Jeb turned away. He was lucky; he didn't have to see the pain on his father's face as he descended each mountainous step home.

The frustration had bubbled and curdled by the time that Jebidiah returned home, but what was waiting for him there was not the loving support of his wife; in fact, he'd barely made it through the door when Travis hurtled in from another room, his face panicked.

"Travis, whatever it is, it needs to wait until tomorrow," Jebidiah growled as he began to slump into the living room. "I really do not have time for this right now."

"Please, Dad, you don't understand... I really need your help."

This was the last thing Jeb wanted to deal with. If he had it his way, he'd sulk on the couch silently with a scotch in one hand and a cigar in the other, but Travis just wasn't going to make it that easy. "Alright, fine," Jeb groaned as he turned towards his son, who was still trailing on his heels. "What."

"I know this is a lot to ask, Dad, but--you're the only person I know with enough connections to make this go away. See, this girl--Lisa--she got some really compromising pictures of us together, and she said she was going to make them public if I didn't get Carolina's record cleared. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, Dad--I mean... I could lose my job over this."

"Your job. Your job." The frustration already consuming Jebidiah's mood boiled over. "Your sister is looking at spending the rest of her life in prison, your mother could lose the business we poured all our assets into, your niece was kidnapped by the very woman you're asking me to get a pardon for--and you're worried about your job?!"

If Travis were even able to get a word in edgewise, he would have had a hard time of it; his mouth fell open in horror at the rage on his father's face, and the incredible volume of his voice. Jebidiah had never quite lost it, before--but tonight... tonight was different.

"I have never been so insulted, so disgusted, in my entire life. To think my own son is so selfish to ask this--" Jeb's eyes closed over, as if trying to contain the fury from pouring from his sockets. "--and not only that, but jeopardize his family by doing it in the first place?! You know, if you could just keep it in your pants, this wouldn't be a problem--but no. You couldn't just love your wife. You needed more... because it's never enough, for you."

"You're saying this about me?!" The insults seemed to reawaken Travis's tongue. "ME?! You think I'm the selfish one? This entire family is crumbling apart because of what you have done, and you think you have the right to call me that? No, Dad, you're the one who should be ashamed. You're nothing but a giant, self-absorbed hypocrite--I never should have expected anything from you. When have you ever done anything for your family."

"Travis, I--"

"No. Dad, just... No. We're done. All I wanted was your help, but I guess you can't even give that much."

"Please, Travis--don't go. I didn't mean to--"

"Yes, Dad, you did." As Travis paused in the doorway, preparing to walk out the door, he looked back over his shoulder to send one last dark glance Jebidiah's way. He didn't have to say it--that look said everything he ever could, and more--but even the pleading look in his dad's eyes couldn't stop him. "I don't know why I ever expected any less; you never were much of a father."

Brad had stabbed his heart, but Travis had turned it and wrenched to from his chest--and yet, it had been Jebidiah himself who had given them the knife.

Carolina was right. There was little she had had to do; just line up the pieces and watch as, one by one, he himself pushed his own children away.

And now, he got his wish. With a sigh, he sat on his couch and began to lament his choices and mistakes. There was no scotch, there was no cigar, but there was the picture of his little girl--who was not so little now--to remind him of what little he had left. But soon, she too would no longer be his, once she put the pieces together and realized that all her misfortunes were his fault, as well.

In the quiet of the night, Jebidiah took a deep breath, hung his head, and cried.

---

~ click me for music ~

Naomi tentatively signed her name on each piece of paper the policeman handed to her. She should have been relieved, that after all the strings she had to pull to get to this point, she was actually able to make it this far--but part of her wasn't. She could pull all the strings she wanted, but it'd never be enough.

She handed it all back, but as she did so, the utter seriousness of everything that had happened finally began to sink in. It was as if all the color had been stripped from the world.

"This way, ma'am," the officer said softly, noticing that his charge had begun to become distracted. "The room is just down the hall."

As if awoken from a dream, Naomi breathed deeply, nodded, and followed. Truth be told, it had been hard to stay focused the last week. Reality had never been much of a pretty thing in Naomi's life, but this was just bordering on cruel; it was as if the world was just trying to find a way to break her.

She would never break, though. Not today, tomorrow, or any other day she had to drive up to this lonely police station--because if she'd inherited anything from that dreadful mother of hers, it was unmovable willpower.

"This is it, Ms. Leman," he said over the jingle of keys as he began to unlock the door. "I'm afraid, you don't have long--half hour, max. Just... try to make the best of it."

The door slammed loudly behind Naomi, leaving her in a rather small room divided down the middle with glass several inches thick. On one side of it was Naomi. On the other side,

"Am... Amelia?"

 Naomi swallowed, unsure of what else to say. "Amelia, are you okay?" she finally managed, as ridiculous a question it was.

When Amelia finally spoke, it was raspy and cold; she still didn't lift her head, either. Besides her lips, she was motionless. "My Dad... he stopped by earlier today. Said there was  nothing he could do, Naomi. Absolutely nothing. All the money, all the leverage... and there is nothing he can do."

Naomi's face fell even further. "I'm so sorry, Mia. I wish I could--" she began, but the words caught in her throat and threatened her composure, so she stopped. What was she supposed to say to that? Jebidiah had been the one person who could have possibly changed her fate--if he was as helpless as the rest of them, there could  be no worse a verdict.

When Amelia continued to remain silent--outside of the occasion sniffle--Naomi carefully made her way to the seat across from her and sat down.

Naomi glared a little at the speaker on the wall as she moved. Their voices couldn't carry through the glass, so they were forced to talk through a mic that made 90's cellphones seem extraordinary; it made speaking to Mia even more frigid than it was already. And--if the one-way glass on the side of the room was any indication--their conversation was anything but private. Naomi struggled with it for a moment, but for both their sakes she tried to ignore it.

"They say I don't have long, Mia, but I needed to--" She paused. Bit her lip. Swallowed. "Needed to see you. I wanted to make sure you were..." Naomi stopped again; that would have been a stupid thing to say. Of course Amelia wasn't alright. "I wanted to make sure you knew that I'm here for you, if you need me."

After a few moments, Amelia's sniffles gradually turned to quiet sobs. She couldn't handle it. She stood up and walked away from the glass, trying to put some distance between herself and Naomi as she wiped away the tears that were falling from her eyes.

"Mia, please--talk to me," Naomi pleaded. "I can't stand this... I need you to at least say something."

"W-what could I possibly say, Naomi--except th-that you shouldn'tve come. I... I don't want you to see me like this."

"Oh, right, because after holding your hair for you every time you've thrown up the past two years, seeing you with a set of pointy teeth is gonna send me straight--"

"It's different Naomi, and you know it!" Amelia wailed, cutting her off. "It's not the fangs--it's what I did, because of them! I'm a... I'm a... I'm not someone you want to be with, anymore."

Amelia spoke the magic words to finally break Naomi's temper; she immediately stood up, arms flailing. "You have absolutely no idea what I want, Amelia! Clearly haven't the faintest clue--I did not spend the last few years of my life caring for you and loving you so that I could throw it all away when something goes wrong! You should know better by now!"

"But... I c-could  be spending the rest of my life in here--you deserve better. We may as well e-end it now, before it b-becomes too hard--"

"Why, why, do you always act like there is something threatening our relationship? First it's thinking no one will accept us for being two girls together, then it's your depression and 'how could anyone love someone as broken as me', and now it's this--don't you have any faith in me, Amelia?!"

"Of c-course I do, it's just--" Amelia's sobs turned into painful cries as she tried to continue, but she couldn't. Her hands pressed against her face, hiding it despite the fact that Naomi couldn't see it anyways; she had never been more ashamed in her life, and here she was, just messing it up all over again. "I'm a murderer, Nammi!"

"No. Amelia. You are anything but a murderer. I know you better than anyone in this world, and I know, it wasn't you that did those things. They have to see that--and even if they don't...? I'm not going anywhere."

"I d-don't know why. I've n-never been good for you--"

There was some truth in Amelia's words. And, really, she may have been right. Naomi knew this, underneath her stubborn nature, but even deeper was something more that she couldn't comprehend nor explain--and without even thinking, it took ahold of her voice.

"I'm not with you because you're good enough for me, Amelia--I'm with you because I love you!" Naomi roared. "Can't you see that?! That this isn't just some spin around the block for me?! I am in this relationship because I want to become old next to you! Grow wrinkles with you! Drive kids around in mini vans with you! ... Because I want to see you in white and tell me 'I do', damn it!"

Amelia's heart stopped, dead--or at least went silent in her chest. The entire world fell away, in that moment; she wasn't in a holding room, she wasn't awaiting trial for the murder of two men, and she wasn't a vampire. All that existed, now, was Naomi and what she'd just said. "W... what?"

"I... I want to MARRY you, Amelia"!

"And yeah, maybe you aren't perfect for me. Maybe we never were meant to be together. But you know what?!" she yelled defiantly. "I don't care! I don't bloody freaking care! I love you, Amelia! I love you more than the blood in my veins and the air in my lungs--because I would rather die without them than die without you!"

"Here--I'll prove it," Naomi said angrily when she saw the confused look on Mia's face. "See this?" She pulled a large box from her pocket, and held it up high enough for Amelia to see, clearly. "I've had this for weeks. Been trying to come up with the right way to give it to you, but nothing I thought of was good enough for you. You may not think you deserve it but I do. You deserve the best, Mia, and... I want to do my best to give it to you."

"You're... you're serious."

"Dead freaking serious."

"Can... Can I see it?"

Amelia had never seen anything like it. Sure, it was just a ring with a diamond on top--but to her, it was so much more. The way it looked in Naomi's hands as she held it up to the glass for her to see, the way the water in her eyes made the ring seem to glow and sparkle... it was surreal. In Amelia's life, she had never been more happy--nor more sad.

"I..." Amelia began, her voice shaky. "I thought you would never ask." Her fingers reached out and touched the glass that separated her from taking the greatest gift that anyone had ever wished to give her. "Naomi... I love you."

Those three words--they left her lips again, and again and again and again. Her body was enveloped by them, sending the weight of her against the glass as tears streamed down her face and left streaks on her pale freckles.

I love you. I love you. I loveyou Iloveyou IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou. The words became unrecognizable the more she said them, but never once lost their meaning. For the first time, Amelia truly knew what she wanted--but, as if irony laughed in her face, there was but three inches that seperated her from having it. Three inches that felt like the world.

When sobs had left their bodies weak, Amelia and Naomi collapsed to the floor. Each had their eyes averted towards the ground, eyelids closed, but behind those they dreamed of better days. Perhaps of dance floors and lounges, of stages and music, of hot tubs and missing swimsuits, or the cold evening breeze as they huddled by firelight--those memories may be the last true ones they could ever make, so they clung to them tightly.

But--never more tightly than they clung to each other.

Their last few minutes together passed silently, but eventually the long hand creeped up on midnight and reminded them that not even a fairy godmother's spell could last forever.

They said goodbye not with words, but with touch that was not touch; fingertips against the glass, weary expressions on their faces. It was over all too soon, but those last few moments would live forever in their hearts.

Live, forever, happily ever after.