Four months later, and Thorne's life settled. He and Jeannie had moved in together almost immediately while Carmen had taken over the lease for Jeannie's apartment. Ms. Cheng, after a little negotiation and money under the table, had allowed Fifi to stay.
Getting released from the Source had left Thorne without an income. He didn't have to worry. The Dean had approached him, asking if he would stay another two years. After that, they could talk tenure. Thorne readily agreed.
But not everything was hearts and roses. His fiancée still mourned the loss of her father and grieved the betrayal of her mother. Thorne, from time to time, also had episodes of darkness. Whenever he thought of Demetri still living and breathing good air, he would close himself off and drift away. Only Jeannie could bring him back into the light again.
She would lead him to their bed. There, she would undress him and herself before spooning under the covers. With his arm folded around her, she would talk about her day. She would take about their future. She would talk about the baby they were bringing into the world.
Sometimes they would drift off to sleep, sometimes they would make love, but always, Thorne would come back.
"Jeannie Jones," Dean Freeman called into the mic. Jeannie stood and climbed the stairs. She took longer than the other students since she was almost six months pregnant with her first child.
"Way to go, Jeannie!" Carmen's voice carried above the clapping, but it was Thorne's whistling, which filled her heart. Dean Freeman shook her hand. "Congratulations, Mrs. Gable."
Jeannie smiled. "Thank you, Dean."
She left the stage, tipping her head for Thorne to see the heart with the "T" in the middle. His subsequent shout of "Oh, yeah!" carried through the clapping and other cheers of the crowd.
Jeannie laughed, her heart lighter than it had ever been. She...no they had done it. Working through their fears and uncertainties, she and Thorne had only gotten stronger. Now with her master's under her belt and a family in the making, she was ready to take on the world.
The party they held to celebrate Jeannie's degree was a simple affair with just a few close friends. Two months ago, they had moved into a house closer to campus—a ranch style home with a weathered fence and an overgrown front garden. Thorne left it mostly wild, he liked the wildflowers out in front.
The backyard, however was meticulously landscaped. The water feature, a slate-gray wall with water trickling down, was the focal point. Solar lights lit up the feature at night, and often, like on this day, Thorne wore a chef's hat, tilted to the side. His large apron that read Kiss the Cook, protected his jeans and T-shirt while he manned the outdoor kitchen barbecue.
Dalton and Quentin came bounding into the backyard followed by Drake Druthers.
Thorne bristled at the sight of the smaller man. They hadn't seen him since that night at The Source almost nine months ago.
Jeannie stayed him from confronting Drake with her hand on his arm. Thorne vowed to keep silent, but his green eyes narrowed into slits.
"Jeannie," Drake said. "I hope you don't mind me showing up here uninvited, but I wanted to give you this." He handed her a small silver jewelry box with a pink ribbon wrapped around it.
Jeannie threw a perplexed look at Thorne who shrugged his shoulders. "Um... thank you, Drake. Won't you stay for some food?"
Drake rubbed his hands together, sniffing the barbecue-scented air. "Well, since you offered, I wouldn't mind taking a plate or two home."
Thorne rolled his eyes, muttering curses under his breath. He stilled his mouth when Jeannie gave him a look.
"Suuuure, Drake." Jeannie roped her arm under his. "Walk with me to get some plates and foil from the kitchen."
As soon as they were out of earshot, Thorne turned his pique onto Dalton and Quentin. "Why did you two bring that idiot to my home?"
"Duuuude, he insisted on following us here," Quentin said, shooing a fly from the back of his neck. "Man, it was like he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer." Quentin elbowed Dalton in the side. "Right, Dalton?"
Dalton yelped when Quentin dug his elbow into his side. He'd been busy eyeballing at a tall, slim blonde. Her platinum hair had bounced in a cheerleader ponytail, catching the sun with every move of her head.
"Ah, yeah, man. That's right. He wouldn't." Dalton shook his head to focus better on the conversation. "I mean, team leader... I mean, Thorne. I mean, who is that blonde?"
"What 'blonde?'" Quentin said, swiveling his head back and forth.
Dalton moaned. "She's already gone."
Jeannie was wrapping up two stuffed plates in foil when the blonde came into the kitchen. As she approached, she removed her dark sunglasses. Jeannie sucked in a breath. Shock made her eyes nearly pop out of her head. It wasn't hard to see the resemblance in the kitchen light.
"I didn't tell her yet, honey," Drake said, wrapping his arm around H778 and pulling her close.
"Who are you?" Jeannie whispered. The woman had to be a relative of her husband's as the resemblance was uncanny.
Green eyes, the same shade as Thorne's bore into her. Lips similar in shape but a degree or two plumper spoke words that shocked Jeannie to her core.
"I'm his mother."
The light got brighter. Jeannie's senses overloaded. She stumbled backward and collided with a kitchen chair. It tipped over with a crash onto the tiled floor.
"What's going on in here?" Thorne roared, seeing Jeannie in distress. Dalton and Quentin flanked him a few seconds later. Thorne moved toward Drake thinking he was the cause, when his mother stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
The blonde touched Thorne lightly on the arm. All eyes were on her as she spoke, "I've missed you, Thorne."
Dalton, Quentin, Thorne and Jeannie immediately recognized her voice as being that of H778.
Quentin threw up his hands, scoffing. "Yo, dudes! I knew it! I was the closest. I knew H778 wasn't no Judi Dench or no chunky Taylor Swift."
When no one responded to his outburst, Quentin slunk behind Jeannie and picked up the fallen chair. Jeannie gave him a wan smile as she gratefully plopped down on it.
"Mama? Is that really you?" Thorne already knew she was. Tatiana's face was like looking at his own through a Snapchat filter.
Tatiana eyes filled with unshed tears. "Yes, baby."
"Why didn't... you never said..." Thorne's eyes lost their remaining sparkle. His expression became distant and flat—a long empty highway in the middle of the desert. Jeannie rose unsteadily on her feet to stand before him.
"Tatiana, you and Drake need to leave," Jeannie's voice was polite but firm. "We'll call you when we are ready to talk. Now is not the time."
Tatiana protested, but something in Jeannie's expression made her comply.
Jeannie turned her gaze to Dalton. "Would you see them out?"
Dalton nodded, and with a sweeping motion of his hand, he pointed the way to the front door.
Drake gathered up the bag with food a smug smile on his lips. He'd gotten his revenge. Thorne's expression had been priceless. "Thanks for the food, Jeannie. Don't forget about the present." With that, he and Tatiana left the kitchen, Dalton on their heels.
Jeannie took charge while Thorne looked on, too dazed to react. "Quentin, will you help with the guests?"
Quentin nodded. "Sure thing, Jeannie."
They sat on their bed, holding hands. Thorne stared off into space, while Jeannie carefully watched his expressions, ready to steer him from the darkness that rose up from time to time. Through the months they'd been together, she knew what signs to look for. Thorne still had episodes where he'd retreat into himself, but they'd grown less frequent.
Now, she couldn't blame him for having one. Tatiana's revelation had been nothing less than shocking.
"All this time my mother was right under my nose. All this time..." When Thorne chewed the inside of his cheek, Jeannie marked his distress.
Her husband was hurting.
She took swift action to heal him by getting up and placing her hands on either side of his face, lifting it up so he was forced to look into her eyes.
"Ever since you met me, you had a family, Thorne. Don't forget that. Don't forget us."
Thorne's eyes cleared. He smiled at the wife he loved more than life itself. He placed a hand on her ever growing belly. "As long as I breathe, I won't ever forget you both."
Sarah and Theo admired the water feature while Carmen and Shon sat in the swing seat looking at the stars. They punctuated their whispered conversation by kisses. It had taken Carmen months to win Shon back, but she was persistent.
Quentin and Dalton picked up the last of the paper cups and plates. Quentin dropped his pile into the bin with a toss of his hand. A glint caught his eye. The silver box Drake had given Jeannie lay on the grass.
"Yo, Jeannie," Quentin called from across the lawn. "Don't forget Drake's present!"
He threw it in an arc. The silver packaging winked brightly under the backyard torches.
Jeannie plucked it easily from the air with one outstretched hand.
"Should I open it?" she asked Thorne.
"Sure. I'd like to see what that ingrate gave my wife," Thorne growled.
"Don't start, Hawthorne."
He dipped his head and blushed. "Yessum," he said, with a shy smile.
Jeannie opened the gift. Inside was a card key.