Page 71 of The Marriage Narrative
“She hates me.”
“She doesn’t,” Jordan and his dad replied in unison.
When in the hell had he reached that conclusion?
“I don’t think it’s even possible for her to hate anyone,” Jordan said. “She’s not like that.”
“She’s as sensitive as you.” Their dad aimed a knowing look straight at Wylie.
“I’m notsensitive.” He spat the word like he’d been insulted.
The resounding silence said otherwise. They went back to sorting until Wylie found an album he wanted to flip through, recapping and laughing at his version of events.
Moments like this always hit Jordan exceptionally, and somehow unexpectedly, hard. Wylie’s stubborn know-it-all insistence on being right all the time and his raucous laughter. The way their dad corrected him and told the real story without putting him down.
He’d ripped out a part of himself when he walked away. Watched as it withered over the years while he missed out on making important memories with them. Celebrating Christmas and New Year’s at the end of January was unique. Friendsgiving and visiting his paternal grandparents was fun. Sneaking in through staff entrances and sitting alone in the shadows during public milestones was okay because at least he was there. He lived his life around theirs—always beside and behind it.
The camera permanently stationed over his dad’s shoulder and the second one weaving its way around the room were an all-too-present reminder that things hadn’t really changed. He was still scheduled to leave them again. Back to his life with Zinnia.
Zinnia.
Meeting his wife had irrevocably altered the course of his life for the second time. With her, he wouldn’t have to hide or sneak around. He’d get the chance to make memories worth putting into their own family photo album.
After the last package was open and sorted, Wylie grabbed a blue book off the 2017 shelf and flopped onto a love seat. Therewere two of them, facing each other with a coffee table in between. Jordan fist-bumped his shin as he walked past to go bother their dad.
“Another one?” He pointed to the twins’ fifth birthday party scrapbook his dad was holding. “You do have two other kids.”
“If you’re so worried about what I’m doing, maybe you should try being more interesting,” his dad teased with a straight face.
It took a frowning beat for the message to click through. “Sneaky old man.”
“Old?” He sounded offended but had an amused twinkle in his eye.
They’d had the same idea, but his dad had more experience to pull it off. If the network couldn’t be creative, he’d do it for them.
Reminiscing for him was a reminder for viewers that the twins’ birthday was coming up.
He was also choosing to share an unseen side of their family with a subtle lesson attached: the value in preserving the ordinary in the digital dark age. Hopefully inspiring viewers to bring all their wonderful memories into real life like his generation used to do. Practically winking, saying,You’ll thank me later.
Outside the window, a green blur caught Jordan’s eye as it approached the cabin. Mabel burst through the door yelling, “SECURITY BREACH!” She held her side, gasping in between words. “Security breach at the mall! We need you!”
“What?”his dad roared, jumping to his feet.“When?”
“Just now,” she said, beckoning them to follow. There were two safe rooms in the main house. “We just got word, and I ran straight here. It’s Lazarus again.”
“How?”
“Security suspects a leak and has locked down. Amber and Lulie are unharmed but medical was called to the scene for Zinnia.”
All the air abandoned Jordan’s lungs and his vision wobbled with black streaks. The hallway tilted but Wylie was there, holding him up as they continued marching down the hall.
“Stay focused,” his brother ordered. “Don’t panic.”
“She’s hurt? Are they taking her to a hospital?”
But no one else was listening. Instead of the safe room, Mabel had led them to the office near the front entrance. Head of Security Timothy immediately began briefing his dad on what they suspected had happened—a well-plotted clusterfuck from top to bottom.
Hera was safe and secured.Amber.
