With his fingers wrapped around Angel’s little hand, JC made a path through the crowd of people that were flooding the airport. “Hold on tight, princess,” he told her before he held up his driver’s license for the woman behind the counter to see. When she handed him his tickets, he threw his carryon over his shoulder and they walked away.
“Daddy, can I have an ice cream cone?” Angel asked in the most polite voice she could muster up. “Please, Daddy? I promise I’ll be REAL quiet the whole plane ride. Really, I promise.”
“Angel, we’ve got,” JC glanced down at his watch. “Okay, I guess if the line isn’t too long, we can afford to spare a few minutes.”
“Yay!” she gave a squeal of delight as she pulled him toward the ice cream booth.
JC followed her through the crowd, seeing people on his left, and on his right. He saw orange shirts, green shirts, brown vests, blonde hair, brown, hair, black hair, and a light blue jean jacket.
That jacket…
“Daddy!”
His head spun around and he looked into his daughter’s eyes. “Yes, Angel?”
“He says you owe him three…” she trailed off, trying to remember the numbers.
“Ninety-eight,” the teenager behind the counter told JC as he handed Angel her strawberry ice cream cone.
“Oh, right, sorry. Angel, stay right there while I get out my wallet. Don’t move an inch. And grab some napkins.”
She grabbed a few of the napkins from the counter and smiled at him with a big, pink, ice cream smile. “Okay, Daddy.”
He chuckled as he plopped the money down on the counter, then took her hand back. “Okay, Angel, we’ve gotta get moving.”
They walked to their terminal, and JC sat down, pulling Angel on his lap. He watched as she licked her ice cream cone, and he thought about what they would do, how they would get the money to fix the house AND put some back into Chords.
She smiled at him, and he smiled back.
“Want some, Daddy?”
A man walked past, and caught JC’s eyes. He had a sudden feeling of déjŕ vu. As the man stopped at the little coffee booth, pulling his hat further over his face. Now, all JC could see was the back of him. He was wearing brown shoes, khaki pants, a jean jacket and a sage green baseball cap.
Wait, back it up a little bit… that jean jacket, it was so light in color, so warn, so… familiar.
Everyone owns a jean jacket, don’t they? It’s entirely possible that he saw this one more than once, isn’t it? Well, isn’t it!?
Why was he getting so worked up about a simple jacket? When they make jackets, they always make more than one. It’s called production.
Then it dawned on him. JUSTIN had had a jacket just like that one. He’d worn it every day on tour, hot, cold, whatever. That jacket was always on his back. No wonder seeing one like it had struck a chord in his memory.
That talk show, the one Justin had been on a few days ago… He’d said something about worrying about JC, about being curious what had happened to him.
The pieces were falling together. He wrapped his arms around Angel, and pulled her closer to himself. If that man, the one placing dollar bills on the coffee counter, was Justin, and Justin happened to see him, his present life would be compromised greatly.
He held onto Angel for dear life as the man waited for his coffee. JC wanted to turn away, but he couldn’t. He HAD to know if it really was Justin.
The man picked up his coffee, placed a tip into the tip jar and turned around. His shadowed face was definitely one of mystery, but it didn’t belong to Justin.
JC loosened his grip on his daughter, and let out the breath that he just realized he’d been holding.
“Daddy, you never answered me. Do you want some ice cream?”
“No thanks, Angel.” He took a few napkins and helped her clean up. “Try not to make TOO much of a mess, honey.”
“Oh, thank God you’re home!” Mrs. Chasez exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her son and granddaughter.
“Mom,” JC said through clenched teeth, keeping his voice low so Angel wouldn’t hear. “We’ve talked about this before. This isn’t my home anymore, and never has been, nor will it ever BE Angel’s.”
She ignored him and went straight to Angel. “Oh, Angel, darling, you’re so pretty today!”
JC set down his bags and looked around the house while his mother talked with Angel. Everything was the same as the last time they’d been there. He walked to the couch, and sat down, running his fingers across the edge of the end table. He saw all of the familiar picture frames, with all the old pictures inside. He saw his, his sister’s, and his brother’s high school, senior pictures in matching five by seven frames.
His life before Angel seemed so long ago. He remembered sitting down for that picture, looking seriously at the camera just as he’d been told. Never, would the eighteen-year-old in that picture, ever imagine that his life, and his decisions would take him here.
In front of the three frames were four smaller ones. Inside three, were pictures of his sister’s kids, and the other one was one of Angel. She was wearing a white dress and had a heavenly smile on her face, making her name fit her even more perfectly.
“Are you hungry, JC?” he heard his mother ask. “There’s plenty of food in the refrigerator. I just went to the grocery store yesterday.”
“I’m fine,” he told her. “But Angel might want a snack.” He turned to his daughter. “Do you want a snack, princess? I’m sure Grandma would love to fix one for you.”
Angel nodded vigorously.
“Actually, honey, Grandpa is in the kitchen waiting for you. Why don’t you go say hi and ask him for a snack?” When Angel ran off, Mrs. Chasez turned to her son. “JC, I didn’t want to talk to you about this over the phone, but I think that it’s definitely something you need to be aware of.”
JC shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. “What are you talking about? Is something wrong?” He could tell his mom was nervous.
“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, wringing her hands diligently. “We’ve been getting calls this past week… all of them for you.”
He looked around, almost expecting Justin to walk out from around the corner. “Oh, God, he’s been CALLING you, and you didn’t tell me before we came down here?! Mom, you KNEW that I didn’t want to talk to him!”
Chapter 11
Not A Day Goes By
JC {Fiction}
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I'll Never Stop {Fiction}
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