Risk and Rebel

13: IS CRAZY CONTAGIOUS?

I was an hour late to dinner and starting to think I might be losing my mind. That I was even considering the idea that what Mickey was going through could somehow be real was the initial tip off that I might be losing it ... then things got weird. Or I guess, weirder. When I left the hospital, I had this nagging feeling, like I was being watched. I tried to brush it off, but my paranoia only grew.

Then I caught sight of a black sedan in my rear view mirror. It was following me, turn for turn.

Though I was devoting serious thought to the possibility that I might be losing my mind, that didn't stop me from driving around aimlessly for an extra half-hour. The sedan dropped off eventually, around the fifteen minute mark, which was around when I decided to actually head for home. I was berating myself all the while for letting my imagination get the best of me like that, but I couldn't help but remember what Mickey had said. Her words about 'other threats.'

I shoved those thoughts as far back as they would go as I walked into my house. It was only as I stepped through the doorway that I realized my mother must've been worried sick, and no sooner had the door shut behind me than was that confirmed.

"Jason Caesar Thomas!"

Though usually I would've flinched at the use of my full name, this time I just stood there. I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me as I watched my mother storm out of the kitchen and into the foyer, the look in her eyes fierce — not just in anger, but concern. "Where in the world," she demanded, stopping in front of me with her hands on her hips, "have you been?"

I killed a smart-mouth comment in my throat before it had a chance to escape. Instead, I forcibly swallowed before trying to conjure up some kind of apology. "Mom, I ..." I trailed off, but my breath seemed to stick in my throat. My thoughts were a mess in my mind, and I couldn't seem to find the words to apologize. Or say anything.

Mom's face became crestfallen in an instant as she watched me stand there with a blank face. Without another word she reached for me and hugged me as tight as she could.

"I'm sorry," I managed once she had pulled away.

She nodded once, sternly, before pointing at me in warning. "Don't you ever do something like this again," she said sternly. "I'm not going to ask where you were this time, only because of how completely hectic this past week has been. But Jason ..."

I nodded quickly. "I won't, Mom," I said quietly.

She nodded again, turning away from me. "You'd better not. Now come on," she was already heading back to the kitchen, "your brothers are having dessert, and they missed you."

I headed after her slowly, still trying to sort my thoughts out. The loudest one was the persistent question of Am I losing it too? It proved to be the most difficult to ignore, and it was because of that that I was in a daze once I was in the kitchen. I was quickly knocked out of said daze when two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around my legs.

"Luke, Carter," Mom sighed, "you said you wanted ice cream. Please finish it before climbing on your brother."

Luke let out a huff — he'd always been the most dramatic one — before turning his huge brown eyes up at me. "You're gonna come sit, too, right Jase?"

"Yeah, right Jase?" Carter persisted, flashing me a smile, dimples and all.

I smiled in return, ruffling their hair before scooting them back toward the table. "Yeah, I'm coming to sit, goofballs," I assured them.

A chorus of celebration went up at that, and the two of them rushed off as fast as their little legs could carry them, clambering into their seats. They continued eating their ice cream before I could even sit down, and once I had, they both started talking at once. The joy of having twins for younger brothers is that silence does not exist, as they so often liked to remind me.