Page 66 of The Rebel
Jade gave me a lingering gaze before he shakily pressed the doorbell. It seemed like an age that we were standing there and I worried that no one was home. That we’d driven a hundred miles for no reason.
He was about to push it again when we could see shadows and hear movement behind the glass panels. He took a wavering breath and looked down at his shoes. I tapped my foot against his and briefly brushed against his arm, hoping to calm his palpable nerves.
Jade’s grandparents stood in the open doorway. His grandma was dressed in blue jeans and a soft cashmere sweater and his grandfather was wearing a Manchester City tracksuit. The look on their faces was that of surprise and amazement.
“I wasn’t sure I was seeing right on the monitor,” his grandma said, her tears already in full force. “Oh my, oh my,” she said, her arms welcoming Jade into a bruising embrace. His grandfather stepped in, encircling them both. I shuffled aside, my heart warming at their reunion. But I was swept up into it too, as if I was a long lost relative. Jade began to introduce me, but his grandfather already knew who I was.
“You’re Paris’s sister. Heck, that boy’s doing well!”
Gramma led us into the living room and sat us down on a pristine leather couch, dashing off to get refreshments.
“I can give you some privacy,” I whispered to Jade, not wanting to intrude on a family matter. “I have my art folder in the truck.”
A flicker of fear flashed across his face and his grip on my sleeve was marginally manic.
“No,” he murmured, “no, stay. Please.”
“Are you sure?”
Jade nodded, his fingers moving down to mine, clasping my hand effortlessly. I daren’t breathe, assuming he was in a bit of a daze, overwhelmed by what was happening. But that was okay—I was the same way. Jade Sinclair sitting close and holding my hand was something that I didn’t expect, but something I could get used to.
Pops, as Jade called him, came back in with a tray of drinks. Suddenly he and Jade were in a frenzied discussion about the Manchester City game, and I loved the enthusiasm between them. I learned that Pops had lived in Manchester until the age of three, hence the mad devotion for the team, a family tradition that he was proud had been passed on to Jade and Oliver.
“I’ve missed talking about the team with you,” Pops said.
“Same,” Jade said, but I could see it was tough for him to admit, like he was betraying his mother.
Pops wanted to hear all about his trip to England. My heart soared knowing that Jade was in his element, talking the game he loved with someone who shared his passion. Gramma returned with several plates of food. Jade quickly took one, sadly releasing my hand, and offered me the cheese platter.
I nibbled on a slice of camembert but my appetite had vanished, something to do with the swarm of butterflies occupying my stomach. I wanted Jade to take my hand again. But I had to remind myself that hand holding didn’t mean anything. Scott had held my hand and that meant nothing, less than nothing! Jade wasn’t thinking about me inthat way.I was here as a supportive friend, helping him to get through a difficult family issue. He’d even said to Gabby and Scott that I was hisfriend. Any physical contact was about comfort, reassurance andfriendship.
The topics were a whirlwind, Man City’s football season, Oliver’s football, indoor football, Jade’s European travels,Gramma and Pops’ Alaskan cruise, Jaffa cakes, Oliver’s guitar lessons, Paris’s run at the US Open and his European tour, the weather and school. My eyes flitted around the spacious room, minimalistic but reeking of utter class and style. Gramma, with her hair in a short sleek bob looked like she could be a fashion editor and Pops, although casual in his tracksuit, had the air of an executive. It was obvious they were very wealthy.
“And you’re a Man City fan too?” I stopped staring at the opulent chandelier, fascinated by the crystal lights shaped like delicate flower heads, to find Pops grinning at me.
“By default,” I said. “This is Jade’s top. I had to wear it when we watched the game this morning. He said it was compulsory.”
“Haha,” Pops chuckled. “Yes, that’s a tradition Alex started.”
It was as if the mention of Jade’s father was the catalyst that changed the mood. The room went silent, when prior they’d barely paused for breath. I peered across to see Jade taking a sudden interest in his cuticles. There was the sense that they could no longer ignore the elephant in the room.
Gramma broke the silence with the clearing of her throat, but her voice was raspy. “Dani? How is your mother, darling? You know we’ve missed you all so much.”
Jade shuffled his feet. And now he was twiddling his fingers, inspecting them in earnest. And my heart shuddered for him, knowing he was going to have to spill the painful truth. Which made me wonder what horrendous situation could have caused Dani to cut her husband’s parents out of their lives. I mean, they seemed so normal, had a beautiful home, were welcoming, and they were truly overcome with joy to see Jade.
So, what had they done to Dani?
“Mom’s good,” Jade murmured, his eyes flitting, not making direct contact with either of his grandparents.
“That’s good to hear,” Gramma said.
“Yes, that’s good to hear,” Pops agreed.
An awkwardness followed, everyone nodding, but all afraid to address the issue. Jade’s cuticles would be shredded at this rate.
Jade had praised me for being brave, so I’d be brave for him. “Dani doesn’t know we’re here,” I said, reaching out to his knee. “Does she Jade?”
There was a labored sigh from Pops, and Gramma put her hand on her heart.
