Chapter 50: Turning Against Each Other?
Early Fall
Departure Day
"Mrs. Duncan, Mr. Duncan."
"Juno! Lauren! Come in, come in — Bob, go get Adam. Girls, can I get you some tea? Something to eat?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Duncan."
"No, thank you for driving Adam up to New York. That's such a long trip."
"We're happy to. We're friends."
"Yes, exactly — young people need good friends. Real ones."
Amy welcomed Juno and Lauren into the Duncan living room with the warmth of someone who had made a private decision about them and was thoroughly satisfied with it.
The comparison with Amy Dunne — the ex-girlfriend who had caused four years of low-grade parental anxiety — was doing a lot of work here. Juno and Lauren were better-looking, better-behaved from everything Amy had observed, and there were two of them, which somehow made it even better.
Amy had been watching the situation unfold for years with the strategic patience of a woman who understood that input from mothers on these matters was rarely welcome and almost never effective. She'd maintained her position, kept her opinions warm and ready, and waited.
Which one, though?
Juno was sharp, funny, self-possessed, and had been consistently, quietly loyal to Adam for four years in a way that Amy found genuinely touching.
Lauren was quieter, more guarded, but had a sweetness underneath that came through in unguarded moments.
Both were wonderful. This was a real problem.
Downstairs, Bob found Adam in the basement packing the last of his things.
"Almost done," Adam said. "The girls here?"
"Yep." Bob leaned in the doorway. "Your mother is already adopting them."
Adam carefully lifted the manuscript from his desk — the complete first volume, handwritten, with two typed copies — and held it out to his father with more gravity than Bob had been expecting.
"Dad. This is my novel. The original and both copies stay here. Don't let Gabe anywhere near them."
"Gabe, sure, but why would anyone else—"
"New York has a higher crime rate than Galveston," Adam said. "I'd rather have it here."
Bob took the stack, looked at it, nodded. "Your first novel. I'll put it somewhere safe."
He meant it. Adam could tell.
"Also," Adam said, picking up his bag, "the whole middle class thing."
"What about it?"
"It's not really a class. It's a marketing concept. Owning a house and a car while working for someone else is still working for someone else. The people who actually own the means of production are in a different category entirely, and they'd prefer you think of yourself as middle class rather than notice the distinction."
Bob stared at him.
"Are you saying I'm not middle class?"
"I'm saying the category was designed by people who benefit from you believing in it."
Bob was quiet for a moment. The particular silence of a man whose foundational assumptions about his own life had just been gently questioned.
"I worked my whole life to get here," he said finally.
"I know. And you built something real. I'm not taking that away." Adam picked up his bag. "I'm just saying the label was invented by people who aren't your friends."
Bob sat with this. Then, because Bob was Bob, he rallied.
"Okay. Juno or Lauren. Which one."
"Neither. We're friends."
"Son." Bob's expression shifted into something that was simultaneously paternal and deeply mischievous. "You've been spending time with both of them for four years. Every time I see them they look at you like—"
"We're friends," Adam said, heading for the stairs.
"I'm just saying. Your mother has opinions. I have opinions. We're aligned for once, which is rare—"
"I'll get my bag to the truck," Adam said, and went upstairs.
The honest truth, which Adam had no interest in explaining to his father, was that the dynamic with Juno had never been one he'd initiated or controlled. From the very first day, she had appeared in his life on her own schedule, at her own pace, with her own agenda, and he had been responding ever since.
Four years of that, and he still couldn't fully predict her. Still occasionally found himself recalibrating. The terror had faded into something more like respect — genuine, hard-earned, and still slightly edged with caution.
She'd been a consistent, reliable friend. That was real. The wisdom points were real. The easy companionship of studying together, playing in the band, the thousand small ordinary moments of a four-year friendship — that was all real.
Turning against her had never crossed his mind, and not just because it would be inadvisable.
She'd been good to him.
He could acknowledge that without it being complicated.
He carried his bag out to the driveway where Juno's car was parked, trunk open, Lauren leaning against the passenger side door.
"Ready?" Juno said.
"Ready," Adam said.
He put his bag in the trunk.
New York was waiting.
End of Chapter 50
[500 PS unlocks 1 Extra Chapter]
[10 Reviews unlock 1 Extra Chapter]
Thanks for reading—reviews are appreciated.
P1treon Soulforger has 20+advance chapters