Page 18 of Always You (Guardian Hall #1)
Chapter Eighteen
Alex
As I walked into the family space, carrying a basket filled with freshly baked goods, I noticed Jazz standing alone in the middle of the living room, gazing out the window. The family space comprised three distinct areas: a cozy bedroom with soft linens and warm lighting, a small kitchen stocked with snacks and essentials for a comfortable visit, and a spacious seating area where families could relax. The sofas were plush and inviting, arranged around a low coffee table that held a few magazines and books. It felt welcoming, appearing less like a facility and more like a home.
“Carl let me in when we were done with the finance thing I had with him,” Jazz said as he noticed my surprise at finding him there. His tone was defensive, his posture stiff, as if bracing for a reprimand. “He said it was okay.”
“Of course it’s okay. The room is yours today.”
He slightly relaxed, and I took a moment to observe him. He had presented a neat appearance by trimming his beard shorter than before and tidying up his hair, which gave him a more polished look than I had noticed since his arrival. He wore black pants and a loose pale blue shirt that he kept tugging at. The layers he usually hid under were absent; without them, he appeared younger and more vulnerable.
Yet there was a glimmer of hope in his brown eyes, and somehow, despite the scars and his tense posture, he was more like the boy I’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
The large windows allowed sunlight to stream in, casting long beams across the floor and illuminating Jazz’s face. There was hope in his expression, a cautious smile playing on his lips as he turned to face me.
“I, uh, got this for Harper,” Jazz said, his voice uncertain. He pulled out a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a pendant with a bronze-colored sun embedded in it. The craftsmanship was delicate, and the sun motif was cheerful.
“It’s beautiful, Jazz.” I was honest as I admired the gift. “She’ll love it.”
He frowned slightly, and the worry lines returned. “You think? I mean, she’s sixteen now, and maybe it’s too childish. She could hate it. What do I know from letters and emails?”
I stepped closer, placing the basket on the kitchen counter before turning to face him again. “Harper is still your daughter, Jazz. It’s a thoughtful gift, and it shows you care. That’s what matters.”
He nodded, though the doubt wasn’t completely gone from his face. “I just want today to go well,” he murmured, glancing toward the window. The sunlight highlighted the silver threads in his trimmed beard. I had matching gray at my temples, the first sign that forty was closing in fast, but standing here with all the years between us since we were kids, I felt young again.
“You’ve done everything you can to make sure it does,” I reassured him, moving to stand beside him, looking out at the view.
“Yeah.” His gaze lingered on the pendant momentarily before he closed the box with a decisive snap. “I hope I don’t mess this up.”
“You won’t,” I said with confidence. Turning to him, I saw the man who had faced countless challenges yet still held onto the hope of reconnecting with his daughter. “And whatever happens, we’re here for you.”
Jazz met my eyes, and for a moment, there was a spark of the old connection, a reminder of all the reasons he had been important to me once, and why he still was. “Thanks, Alex. Really.”
God, I wanted to step closer, hug him, and tell him everything would be okay.
I wanted to kiss the fear from his expression.
I wanted to tell him I loved him always and that I wished I’d never given up on us , but I cleared my throat instead.
“Did Marcus give you the full tour?” I asked.
Jazz shrugged and gestured at the space. “Bedroom, kitchen, lounge,” he summarized. “I didn’t need a tour.”
I gestured to the kitchen. “Come with me.”
After a pause, he followed me inside, and I opened drawers and cupboards, showing him snacks and other food items and how the grill sometimes got stuck and needed a push. Then, I mentioned that there were all kinds of toiletries in the bathroom and that the baked goods were fresh, and that was all I could do.
The room was all set, and Jazz was anxious. I wanted to make him feel better. A memory flickered at the edges of my thoughts, a fragment from a simpler time that seemed both a lifetime ago and just yesterday.
“Hey, Jazz,” I started, catching his attention. He stopped pacing and glanced over, an eyebrow raised in silent question, his hands in fists at his side. “Do you remember that time back in school when we were fifteen, and we camped out in the forest to watch the meteor shower?”
He blinked at me as if thinking was way too hard right now, but then a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a spark of nostalgia lighting his eyes. “Yeah, I remember.”
“We were so determined to stay up all night, but we both fell asleep around midnight.”
“Yeah.”
I laughed, the sound bouncing around the bright room. “We did. But not before you scared me half to death, pretending you heard something moving in the bushes.”
Jazz chuckled. “That’s right. You jumped so high I thought you’d levitate.” He paused, his smile widening. “You always were the jumpy one.”
“It’s your fault for telling all those ghost stories as we sat out there,” I shot back, shaking my head in mock disapproval.
“Hey, you were the one who wanted to make it an authentic camping experience, so I was just contributing to the ambiance.”
We both laughed, the tension easing as the shared memory bridged the gap the years had widened. It felt good to remember those moments of uncomplicated friendship, to recall a time when the biggest worry was whether we’d see a shooting star or get spooked by a raccoon. I needed Jazz to remember gentler times, to take away the stress. I missed simpler times.
I missed him.
“You always had a way of making any situation memorable,” I said, the truth of the words more poignant than I’d intended.
Jazz’s expression softened, his earlier apprehension smoothing out into something gentler. “And you were always there, making sure we had everything we needed. Even brought out that old telescope your dad had in the garage, although neither of us could figure out how to set it up properly.”
“I think we spent more time fighting with that telescope than watching the sky,” I admitted with a grin. “Good times, huh?”
“Definitely good times,” Jazz agreed, his gaze drifting back to the window before returning to me. “Makes you remember, doesn’t it? How simple things were back then?”
“It does.” I nodded. “But we’re here now, and that’s what matters. Making fresh memories, right?”
“Right,” Jazz said, cautious hope returning to his features as he glanced at the small box containing the pendant for Harper.
“Speaking of making memories,” I continued, gesturing toward the gift he’d brought, “she’s going to love that. You’re doing great, Jazz.”
He nodded, a determined look crossing his face as he clutched the box tighter. “Thanks, Alex. It means a lot to hear that from you.” He chuckled. “Do you remember the poison ivy the next time we camped, though?”
I scratched my arm at the phantom memory. “Oh god, yeah.”
And that was how it went, and Jazz’s hand unclenched as the conversation took us to a few minutes before Harper arrived.
“What if she doesn’t come?” Jazz asked, and before he could tense up, I gripped his hands and held tight.
“She’ll be here.”
“Will you…” Hehe inhaled. “Could you…”
“Jazz?” I prompted him.
“Will you stay with me until she does? You could meet her if you like?”
That was an easy ask.
“Of course.”