by Pam Tribble
Chapter XVIII.
Lyra slept the dreamless sleep of one completely drained and exhausted. She woke around 10 a.m. and wandered downstairs to find her parents. All she found was a note from them saying they’d gone to church, and had plans to eat at the club afterwards.
It reminded Lyra that her friends expected Jonah and her to meet for lunch. The Harvest dance and the fight with Kyle seemed a long time ago. She called Aimee and put them off, asking Aimee to contact the others.
After she was showered and changed, she took Harry and headed over to Jonah’s.
Jet answered her knock. His face seemed to have more lines than the first time she’d come over. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Ah, Lyra. Come on in.” He stood back and she and Harry entered.
“Jonah went out for a walk a little while ago. I don’t imagine he’ll be back any time soon. But I’m glad for the chance to talk to you alone.”
He led her into the kitchen and motioned for her to sit at the table.
“Would you like a cup of coffee or some hot tea?”
“Hot tea, please,” Lyra answered. Her heart was racing. She had to know. “Is he leaving, Mr. Carsen? Is he going back to that school?”
“Call me Jet, Lyra dear.” He sighed and finished the preparations for tea in silence.
He walked over and sat down while the kettle heated on the stove. “We are staying put for now.”
Lyra let out the breath she’d been holding and leaned back into her chair, limp with relief.
“Mr.…Jet, I really don’t think Kyle’s going to go to the police…”
Jet held up his hands, shushing her. “It’s less to do with that, I’m afraid, than it is to do with you.” His voice was kind rather than accusatory.
Lyra’s breath caught. “What? What did I do? Jet, whatever it is, I swear…”
Jet raised a hand once more to silence her. “I don’t mean it that way. What I mean is, it’s more to do with Jonah’s feelings for you, his worry for you, than any trouble last night’s incident might cause.”
“I don’t understand.” Lyra’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I’m in love with him, Jet. I know that may sound ridiculous to you, but I do. I would never hurt him. I’m not going to tell anyone—if that’s what he’s afraid of—about his abilities.” She looked up at his uncle, pleading with her eyes for him to understand.
He smiled kindly. “I don’t find your loving Jonah a bit ridiculous. Jonah believes he is unworthy of love, but he is not. He has so many good qualities. I’m so happy that someone else has broken down his walls and figured it out as well.”
Lyra smiled back at him, but then her eyes clouded over again. “Then, why? I still don’t understand.”
Just then the kettle whistled and Jet got up to make her tea. He returned a moment later with a tray containing a cup of tea, spoon, sugar bowl and creamer. He waited until she’d begun fixing her tea before he continued.
“Jonah told me that the two of you talked last night and what you talked about.”
Lyra felt a moment of panic and it must have shown in her eyes.
Jet chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your parents you were over here last night. But,” he added sternly, “don’t make a habit of it. You are welcome anytime. You know that. But sneaking over in the middle of the night is not smart.” Jet looked down his nose at her, waiting for her agreement. She nodded her head in assurance.
“Good. Okay. Now you know that Jonah believes he is responsible for his parents’ death—believes he murdered them.”
Hope made Lyra’s heart leap. “But you don’t?”
“No,” Jet scoffed. “It’s completely ludicrous.” He got up from his chair and paced the kitchen.
“Jonah has many special abilities, but instantaneous combustion is not one of them. Of course the police were called out and an investigation made into the incident.
“Jerald and Celia were living in an ancient rundown shack. The wiring, pipes, even the old gas stove were all original to the house. Jonah himself remembers that his mother had been in the middle of cooking dinner when Jerald came home and they’d started arguing. There is no doubt in my mind, or in the minds of the investigators, that a gas explosion occurred. Jonah had nothing to do with it. He’s got a bad case of survivor’s guilt…and an appalling lack of self-worth thanks to his father.”
Lyra felt relief wash over her as she listened to Jet’s explanation. Believing someone was capable of blowing up an entire house on the strength of their mind, even Jonah’s enhanced mind, now seemed absurd.
Lyra’s relief was short-lived, though, as Jet continued.
Jet sat back down wearily. “The problem is convincing Jonah. Believing he is capable, and guilty of, that atrocity, he has always refused to let anyone get close. His father never allowed him any friends as a child, and since the accident Jonah has believed he was justified. He doesn’t trust himself.”
Jet exhaled loudly. “And he sees what happened last night as validation of that belief.”
Lyra stared at Jet in despair. If Jonah was convinced he was a danger to others, she could understand—finally understand why he was so determined to remain detached from her and everyone else. And how, based on that conviction, he might decide to leave Lake Placid. But he was wrong. Lyra just knew it. Joy and panic warred within her.
“What can we do, Jet?”
Jet was roused from his own inner musings at Lyra’s question and his smile returned. “Well, Jonah has agreed to stay here through the end of the semester.”
“The end of the semester?” Lyra jumped up from her chair, knocking the table, and sloshing her still full cup of tea. “And then, what? You’re leaving?” Lyra tried to breath around the lump rising in her throat. “You can’t.”
“Sit back down and let me finish, Lyra.”
Lyra sat, took a shaky breath, and tried to swallow back her panic.
“We have talked it over and made a deal. Jonah agrees to stay here and finish the semester. When school lets out for Christmas break, he and I are going to head up to Edenvale for a couple of weeks. I’ll be making a call tomorrow to the doctor who runs the place and have him set up a battery of tests. Jonah wants a comprehensive study of his abilities performed. He will be giving one hundred percent effort this time around. He hadn’t wanted to do that when he was there before. He deliberately held back because he really didn’t want to know.
“But now,” Jet paused and smiled at her, “because of you, Jonah does want to know. If it is determined that any of his powers could potentially cause harm, he will stay at Edenvale.”
Lyra didn’t like that idea at all, but before she could draw breath to protest, Jet continued.
“If, after all the tests are run, Jonah feels he is not a danger to you or anyone else, he will return with me to Lake Placid.”
Lyra tried to find a hole in that argument. She didn’t like any scenario in which Jonah did not come back.
While she tried to work it out in mind, Jet assured her, “I do not believe those tests will turn up anything dangerous in Jonah, Lyra dear. If Jonah were a threat to others, I would know it by now. But he’s not.”
At that moment, the back patio door opened and Jonah walked in. He didn’t look surprised to see Lyra, but he didn’t necessarily look pleased either. Harry scampered up and over to him, nudging his hand to be petted. Jonah petted Harry absently as he walked over to where Lyra and Jet sat at the table.
“Hey.” Jonah’s voice was low and rough.
“Hey.” Lyra returned, smiling tentatively.
Turning his attention to his uncle, Jonah asked, “Did you tell her?”
“Yes.” Jet got up, picked up the tea things and turned toward the kitchen. “She knows the plan.” Setting the tray on the counter, he started digging through the cabinets. “Now why don’t you two go on into the living room for a while, hm? I’ll m
ake us some lunch.”
Lyra and Jonah went into the living room, sinking into the comfortable sofa. Lyra sat as close as she could without actually sitting on his lap. She took his hand and laced their fingers together and stared into the coals smoldering in the fireplace, the remnants of last night’s fire.
“I don’t want you to go,” she complained quietly.
I have to.
Sigh. “You won’t be here for Christmas.”
“I’ve never been here for a Christmas, so you really can’t miss what you never had,” he murmured into her hair.
She looked up, their faces inches apart, and whispered, “Wanna bet?”
The corners of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile and he squeezed her hand. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
