Chapter 61

I should be back before you, but just in case I’m not, that’s where I’m at.

Jasmine had no idea why her second message refused to send as the plane started to taxi. The signal was spotty there, but it’d send eventually, so she turned off her phone for the flight.

It was not the luxurious flight of her most recent trips, but given her increasingly obvious condition, the flight attendants and other passengers were understanding and helpful. She got the aisle seat and one of the older flight attendants gave her extra snacks.

She expected this would be the last friendly interaction she’d have for the next week. She was firm on her departure date despite her mother’s constant “We’ll see” comments.

If Andrea hadn’t told their mom about her pregnancy yet, which seemed likely since her mom had made no snide remarks about it, she’d have to tell her herself. That was a whole other bridge she didn’t want to cross, but her mother would find out one way or another. This way she could nip questions in the bud.

When she exited the terminal, she half-expected a car to be there waiting for her as a sort of bribery attempt. There wasn’t though, probably something they saw as an unnecessary expense, so she called her own taxi.

It’d been seven years since she last saw the gate that guarded the mile-long driveway leading up to her childhood home. They opened in near silence, allowing her passage through. Trees acted as guards to the road, the leaves as shade from the blistering heat. It was the one part of her home that she loved; it felt like a fantasy, that once she traversed the whole corridor, she’d find a castle and a prince ready to take her in.

There was never a castle though, only the old antebellum house that had acted as her prison for so many years.

She pulled out her phone from her purse and opened her messages. Her heart leapt when she saw a new one from Nick.

Don’t be gone long. I’ll be waiting for you.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. The last bit of hope of a happy ending grew brighter. It was the strength she needed to make it through the visit.

The taxi pulled up in front of the house, and the driver helped her with her luggage. She pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and handed it to him. Her mother stood in the entryway and watched her like a hawk, as if she was some intruder instead of her daughter.

“Ma’am, this is too much,” the driver protested.

“Well, if I need a ride out of here, I hope I can call you or your company,” she said in a soft voice.

He glanced behind her to the imposing figure of her mother, then back at her, and nodded. “Of course, ma’am.”

As the car retreated, Jasmine took a deep breath and turned to her old home.

“I’m so happy you’re home!” her mother said as she walked up the front steps. She tried to hold her arms out for a hug, but Jasmine blew right past her.

“Where’s Dad and Andrea? I have something to tell everyone.”

Her mother’s expression darkened. “He’s upstairs. I’ll call your sister up there now.”

The house was equipped with one of those old bell systems meant to call servants to specific rooms. She pressed one of the buttons for a second-floor room. Jasmine grabbed her suitcase and started the trek up the stairs.

Her mom rushed up and grabbed it from her hands. “Oh come, let Gerard take care of this. Your father is very excited to see you.”

“Gerard’s still here? When are you going to let the poor man go?”

“When I’m satisfied you and your sister are all grown up,” an older gentleman’s voice said.

He rounded the corner, and Jasmine blinked back tears. He was grayer than she remembered, the wrinkles in his face deeper. His eyes were tired, so tired. Yet still he beamed at her with the joy normally reserved for a grandfather.

Jasmine went back down the stairs and hugged him tight. “You should really retire, old man,” she said, giggled in his ear.

“Well, it appears I’ve one more generation to see before I can,” he whispered back. She pulled back, and he winked with a devilish smile.

She nodded. “I guess. But after that, you go enjoy your golden years, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He took her bag, and all three ascended the spiral staircase. She heard her mom mumble something about “the help getting a better reception than her poor old mother.” She had to bite back the comment that Gerard deserved it far more than her.

He’d been their guardian, one of the few mentors in their life that taught them what it meant to be a good person. When they were hurt, he took care of them. When they wanted a bedtime story, he’d be the to one read it.

The last time she’d saw him, she’d just made the drop from her window balcony to the bushes below. She grabbed what few items she’d packed, stood up, and saw him watching from the front door. Jasmine was sure she was caught, that there was no escape from the miserable future so meticulously planned out for her.

Instead, he simply smiled, nodded, then closed the door.

She’d feared he’d passed before she could ever give him a proper thank you and goodbye. Despite the fact he was still in service to her family, she was eternally grateful she got to see him again.

Gerard split off from them into her old room, while Jasmine followed her mom into the master at the end of the hall.

It was so different she was sure that they’d walked into the wrong room. Instead of the magnificent four post canopy bed, there was a simple black frame holding a mattress covered in plain white sheets. Before, the room was filled with extravagant and antique furniture pieces, from vanities to ancient chests to artwork. Now the only furniture was a nightstand with two small bouquets of flowers atop it, and a futon pushed up against the wall adjacent to the balcony doors.

The room felt sterile, and in the center of it all, in the bed surrounded by pillows that propped him up, was her father.

Jerome Thornton was a force to be reckoned with, or at least he used to be. He was a man who towered over his peers, who commanded a room with his mere stare.

The person in that bed resembled him only in basic features. His face had been sharp and imposing in his healthier days; now his cheeks were gaunt, giving him a ghoulish appearance that struck fear for a very different reason than before his illness.

He wasn’t quite skin and bone, but he was close. The muscled figure was gone, replaced by a feeble man with an IV attached to his arm.

Her father pushed himself up a little further. “Jasmine,” he said, his voice trembling. Whether from weakness or emotion, she wasn’t sure.

She set her purse down, half in shock, as she walked up to him.

“Hi, Dad.” Her hands shook.

When she was close enough, he held out his hand and grabbed hers.

“I missed you.”

She forced a smile, unable to form a lie in response.

“I’ve heard of your accomplishments in New York.” He looked up. “It sounds like you’ve been having some interesting adventures. I want to hear about them.”

Jasmine’s stomach tightened. “Why?”

He chuckled, which morphed into a horrifying cough. “Because I want to know how my firstborn is doing. I want to know if you’re happy.”

“You never cared about my happiness before,” she snapped.

He looked away from her, towards their intertwined fingers. “I thought I did, but when you stare death in the face, you realize what you prioritized in life. And I realized it wasn’t your happiness, but my own.” He glanced in the direction of his wife, then turned his attention back to Jasmine. “That’s why I must know you’re happy now. I need to know I didn’t ruin you.”

Tears threatened to fall. “You don’t deserve to know.” She gripped his hand tighter, nonetheless.

He nodded. “You’re right. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. Please.”

Her emotions spilled out. “Yeah. I’m happy,” she said through the tears. She bowed her head on his chest. “I wish you’d cared sooner.”

“Me too.”

As Jasmine cried into her dad, both distracted, her mother leaned down and pulled out Jasmine’s phone from her purse.

Her passcode was the same as it’d always been, her birthdate and favorite number. The conversation with Nick was still open.

She smirked, opened the contact info, and blocked him. She did the same with all her most recent contacts. With several quick, smooth moves, she opened Nick’s conversation again, locked it, and returned the phone to the purse.

Jasmine would be staying, whether she liked it or not. Susan Thornton would make certain of it.