Taking the Leap (River Rain 3)

I felt Rix’s mood shift alarmingly and therefore said quickly to Dad, “It’s my understanding that family is close.”

Dad looked right at me. “What the understanding is, darling, for everyone is that those two suffered the torment of watching a wonderful wife, loving mother and a just plain fine woman battle heroically, and die anyway.”

I stared at Dad.

“There’s all sorts of trauma, Alexandra,” Dad continued, swiping butter on his toast. “They’ve shared their own personal one, together. And now they’ve bonded over that, which is unsurprising. Also unsurprising is that bond is difficult to break. However, it must. Drusilla must live her life and Jamie’s his best with a woman at his side. As much as it quite literally makes me ill to think of him with anyone other than Rosalind, who, outside of you, is the finest woman I’ve ever known, life goes on. He needs to find someone. She needs to enjoy being young with people her age. Neither of those things will happen if Drusilla doesn’t break free.”

At first, I was dealing with the “outside of you” remark.

Then, I looked to Rix.

Rix was studying Dad.

“You disagree?” Dad demanded.

I turned to Dad to see this was aimed at Rix.

“No,” Rix replied. “Everything you said concerns Judge too.”

Dad nodded, now spreading marmalade on his toast, murmuring, “I’ve no doubt.”

Rix caught me watching him and shared, “I’ve seen it, sweetheart. It’s beautiful what they have. But the longer it goes on, it may be not healthy.”

Oh dear.

I turned again to my father.

“I just met her last night. Not sure I can wade into her family functioning.”

And again, he looked me dead in the eye, before he stated, “You’re my Alexandra. You’ve proved you can do anything.”

My mouth dropped open.

I felt something burning into my face and forced my gaze to Rix.

He was watching me so intently, if Superman laser beams shot from his eyes, I wouldn’t blink.

“Father!”

“Fuck,” Dad clipped, immediately collapsing back in his chair.

And now I was alarmed, because Blake could be a lot, but that seemed like a rather dramatically defeatist response.

I didn’t get a second with this thought before Blake showed in the room.

Her torso wheeled back after she stopped and got a look at us, and that was unsurprisingly dramatic.

“Look how fucking cozy,” she sniped, taking us all in. “Did anyone think to invite me, the firstborn daughter, this week’s person of honor to this breakfast soiree?”

I was further not surprised she woke up on the wrong side of the bed considering she might not know whose bed her fiancé woke up in.

And I was also kinda understanding Dad’s reaction to the news she was there.

“Alex and Rix are staying with me, and you are not,” Dad pointed out.

Blake ignored him.

“I mean, do you pay her?” she asked me.

“Sorry?” I asked back.

“Elsa Cohen!” she shrieked. “She adores you. Why on earth would she adore you?”

“Right, this is the thing,” Rix started.

Uh-oh.

He also threw his napkin down and stood up.

Uh-oh.

Dad looked up at him.

Blake looked up at him.

I looked up at him.

He only had eyes for Blake.

“I don’t know what your damage is, but you see your sister, you say hello. You ask how she’s doing. You have some issue, you rein it in and speak to her like you’re both adults. What you don’t fucking do is say snide shit or get in her face. Ever.”

No one said a word.

Which was good, because Rix wasn’t done.

“She’s got no control over what that vulture does or says. If the woman said something you don’t like, either suck it up or find some way to shut her up. Do not take it out on Alexandra.”

“She showed a picture of me on her show where I looked horrible and you could see my nipple.”

Annnnnnd, again.

I pressed my lips together.

“So what?” Rix asked.

“So what?” she asked back. “It’s my wedding week!” she screeched. “And all the pictures of you two”—her finger jabbed at him then sliced to me—“and there were many of them, look like Steven Meisel took up society photography as a hobby.”

Dad cut in at this juncture.

Unhelpfully.

“That damned dress was inappropriate. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you wearing that.”

“We’re not living in the fifties, Dad, where Alex got her dress.”

Oh boy.

Mistake.

“Do not say another goddamn word about Alexandra’s dress,” Rix growled, so low and ominous, even Blake paled.

Fortunately, though it’d turn out to be unfortunately, it was then Dad’s housekeeper showed at the door.

“Mr. Sharp, Mr. Head is here to see…” Cassandra hesitated in order to convey her confusion at her next words, “Mr. Hendrix.”

Now it was Rix that was clipping, “Fuck.”

But I was thinking it.

“Chad’s here to see you? Why is Chad here to see you?” Blake asked.

And now Dad was standing, a lot slower than Rix did, saying, “Yes. Why Rix?”

So I stood. “Okay, now, let’s—”