Jeannie buried her father on a bitterly cold Thanksgiving Day. To her relief, Demetri had made the arrangements, saving Jeannie from decisions she was too grief stricken to make.
On the day of the funeral, only five people were in attendance: Jeannie, Carmen, Demetri, Anatoly, and Alex's nurse Svetlana.
Thorne, Dalton, and Quentin watched the services from behind a mausoleum. They stood shrouded in the shadows as the bite of the wind whipped Thorne's hair and made Dalton's teeth chatter.
The smell of upturned earth combined with the somberness of the gray, cloudy sky, reminded Thorne of his mother's untimely death. Like Jeannie, he regretted not being able to say goodbye.
Anger coursed through him at the thought of his mother's murderers who still roaming free. He wasn't worried, though. He had faith that one day, justice would prevail. It was only a matter of time.
Jeannie's sobs carried to him on the wind. She looked so frail between the tall Demetri and even taller Anatoly. Thorne had wanted to be by her side. Consequences be dammed.
Only Jeannie's assurances that Demetri would look after her and the fact they would be together by the end of the weekend, allowed him to let her face the funeral alone.
But...he would be there. Come hell or high water. Jeannie had finally agreed right before she left the apartment to meet Carmen outside.
He watched her leave until he could no longer see the truck Carmen drove. He then went back inside and called his subordinates to come over as fast as they could.
With each of them carrying a baker's dozen box of donuts, they arrived with bright smiles. The two men thought Thorne was going to give them instructions for a new assignment. Discussing it on the way over they wondered what part of the world they would head to next. Quesntin was sure it was South America while Dalton held out hopes for the Caribbean.
They were both wrong.
Quentin had nearly choked on his third bear claw when Thorne told them about the death of Jeannie's father and that his relationship with her had progressed from an assignment...and into something real.
"What the hâ"
Thorne cut off Quentin's explicative with a raised hand. "I know I should have trusted you, butâ"
"No. There are no 'buts,'" Quentin said, spraying crumbs laced with powdered sugar onto Jeannie's clean kitchen table. "We deserved to know, dude. You placed our asses on the line."
Dalton had nodded his agreement. "If you break protocol, we'll support you, but you keeping us in the dark was not cool, man. Not cool at all."
Jeannie stood crying at the grave site. Carmen rubbed her back in slow circles, trying to comfort her.
It helped. A little.
The one thing held her up, that gave her the strength to see the bleak day through was the knowledge that Thorne was near.
Jeannie had asked Carmen to get in touch with Theo, Sarah, and even Robert to let them know her father had passed. Carmen stated that they hadn't replied to her texts or calls, though Shon had promised to show up at the house later.
Jeannie surmised that they were unreachable because of the holidays. She wasn't looking forward to telling them in class on Monday, as more that likely, she would surely break down. She didn't like showing weakness in front of people. Her father had taught her to be strong...
But in this, the death of her beloved father, she let her tears flow and her shoulders sag. Alex Jones was gone. She would never hear his voice or listen to his stories again.
Jeannie's spirits lifted somewhat at the thought that her father would want her to carry on. To make new stories. And she would...with Thorne. He would be there to help her get through the death of her father, and any other hurdles that came their way.
Although she missed Thorne's unfailing strength, they had decided that he not attend the funeral with her, but at a safe distance. It was better that way. Jeannie figured that if Demetri saw Thorne, something would happen and she couldn't take anymore upset on the day of her father's burial.
Reluctantly, Thorne agreed. He would be on the grounds during the funeral and once Jeannie stepped in the limo to take her back to her father's house, he would leave and stay in his quarters at The Source.
It would be hard not seeing him until l she and Carmen came home at the end of the weekend. They had to be separated for so long because Demetri had told her he planned to stay in the area for a few days. He wanted to help her get the house in order. Jeannie had declined his help, but Demetri was adamant...almost to the point of suspicion.
"Are you ready, Jeannie?" Demetri asked, his question breaking off her thoughts. He placed a hand on the small of her back, with an arm outstretched to lead the way.
Jeannie stepped away from him. "I want to sit by myself for a moment. I'll join you in the limo shortly."
Her godfather pierced her with his intense blue eyes, reminding Jeannie of a deadly snake about to strike. She shivered in her black woolen trench coat. The weather didn't affect her, but Demetri's gaze had. It seemed to convey that he knew she was hiding something from him.
After a moment, his eyes became soft as he gazed at her and he looked more like the sweet and helpful godfather she knew him to be.
"Milakha," he said, the belt of his coat fluttering in the breeze. "I will be waiting."
He turned to leave and Jeannie walked back to the folding chairs by the gravesite. The gravediggers had already begun their task of filling in the grave, but stopped when Jeannie approached. She gave them a small smile as they retreated to a respectful distance.
The minutes ticked by. The hard plastic chair, covered by an itchy velveteen cloth, began to dig into the backs of her thighs. Jeannie, ignoring her discomfort, began to murmur a prayer in her native tongue. Her words, rusty from disuse, sounded strange to her ears.
When she finished, something flickered in her line of sight.
It was a...penlight peeking from around a mausoleum. Her heart soared and her sorrow lightened as she caught the last of the message. She waited. After a pause, Thorne repeated it.
Strength flooded Jeannie's veins. Her father's death had closed one chapter. Thorne's message
.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-
had opened another.