Honor System (The System Series Book 4)

by Andrea Ring

“Not with Tyrion’s life at stake,” I say. “We can save Nicole anyway. I can save her from an aneurysm.”

  Tessa bites her lip. “So, just you making that decision, to save her, shouldn’t that change her death date?”

  “It didn’t change Dad’s,” I say. “Although, Jack and Tyrion can’t read the new dates—only Chris can do that. But Dad really did have a heart attack on the date Jack predicted.”

  “Can I call Chris? See if there’s a change?”

  “Sure.”

  Tessa wanders to the kitchen to make the call.

  I wonder if it’s that easy—I just decide to save someone, and they’re saved. Seems way too easy.

  And it didn’t work with Dad, who I would have died to save. Why would it work with anyone else?

  ***

  Tessa comes back to the living room looking frustrated. “No change.”

  “I think it’s because I can’t just decide to save someone. I mean, we have no idea if I’ll be able to save her or not.”

  Tessa lowers herself to the floor.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you two have grown pretty close. And I love Chris and Nicole, too. This sucks.”

  “It does,” she says. “First we have to worry about Mom, and now Nicole.”

  “At least we know. They have a much better chance now than they would have if we didn’t know.”

  “How’s Mom?” she asks. “Have you talked to Sean?”

  “Yesterday. He says everything looks good. The baby’s viable…I mean, the baby has a good chance at survival now, so we don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Has Chris looked at her? She might have a new death date written.”

  “I didn’t even think of that,” I say, smiling at her. “Have her come down to the lab tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Tessa picks at a hangnail.

  “What else is on your mind?”

  “Did you tell Chris that he might not be able to have kids?”

  “Yes. I told you I would.”

  She nods. “But I don’t think Chris told Nicole.”

  “We can’t get in the middle of that, Tessa,” I say. “It’s between them.”

  “I know. I’d never say anything. But Dad was talking about it the other day with Tyrion. They were talking about the testing being done on the boys’ DNA, and they didn’t say it outright, but Dad told Tyrion not to forget to check for some, I don’t know what it was, but something to see if any of the boys could produce a child. I caught on because I already knew, but Nicole could hear the conversation. It’s possible she figured it out.”

  “I’ll mention it to Chris, but it’s out of our hands. If she figured it out, Chris will have to deal with it.”

  “Are you gonna start working on the fertility stuff soon?”

  “As soon as Em is sorted out.”

  Tessa sighs, stretches out on the wood floor, and stares at the ceiling. “There’s so much to do. So many hurdles.”

  I grin. “Good thing I know how to jump.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Emmaleth closes her eyes and nods her head once.

  I think about one of the best memories of my life, the day Tessa agreed to marry me. I felt such joy, such elation…

  Em’s mouth slips into a smile, and I lose it.

  “Jesus, you have to try!” I scream. “You didn’t even try!”

  Her bottom lip quivers, and tears pool in her eyes.

  “That’s enough for today,” Mateo says, scooping Em into his arms and cuddling her. “You did nothing wrong. We’ll just have to try again tomorrow.”

  Em buries her head in his neck, and her body shakes with her sobs.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I’m sorry, Em. I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you. It’s my fault. I don’t know how to block emotions either, and I’m a horrible teacher.”

  She lifts her little head. “You are.”

  I sigh and sag in place. “You’re right. I’m the worst teacher ever. Can you forgive me?”

  She nods and holds out her arms. Mateo passes her to me with a grin.

  “It may not be possible,” he says, taking a seat on top of one of the desks. “Not everything can be accomplished, no matter how much one practices. I could shoot hoops all day long, but I’ll never be Magic Johnson.”

  I sit on the desk next to him and arrange Em on my lap. “What do you think, Em? Is this something you think you can do, or are we wasting time?”

  “I don’t think I can do it,” she says. “Maybe when I’m older, like when I’m three, we can try again.”

  “Three-year-olds can do a lot of cool stuff,” Mateo says.

  I smile down at her. “The only problem is that we have to fix this somehow. But you leave that to us. We’ll figure something out.”

  “So we can stop doing this? I can start working on my healing instead?”

  I nod. “You still have to only do it in the lab, and you can only heal what we tell you, because we don’t want anything bad to happen to you. But yeah, we can start tomorrow.”

  Em smiles and nuzzles into me. “Thank you.”

  I pat her back. I’m glad she’s happy.

  But I can’t be happy until my daughter’s safe.

  And I have no idea how to make that happen.

  ***

  Tessa pokes her head into the classroom we’re using. “You busy?”

  I lift Em up and stand. “Nope. Just finished.”

  Tessa crosses the room to us and kisses Em’s head. “Can you hang out with Mateo for a minute? I need to talk to Daddy.”

  Mateo takes Em from me. “We’ll go get a popsicle.”

  They leave, and Tessa closes the door behind them. “Any progress this morning?”

  “None. And we’ve decided to stop. Em doesn’t think she’s capable of blocking emotions.”

  “We found something today…Nicole came into the lab, and all the boys were there already, and when she walked into the room, it was like someone cast a spell. Every single one of them focused on her. It kinda freaked me out.”

  I cock my head.

  “So I grab Fifteen who’s nearest to me, and I ask him, ‘What’s up? Why are you looking at Nicole like that?’ And he said, ‘I think she’s dead.’”

  “Huh?”

  Tessa nods. “I know. So I ask, ‘What do you mean? She’s right here!’ And he says, ‘We can’t read her thoughts. We can’t tell what she’s feeling. She must be dead.’ And Nicole, she heard the whole thing, and she was kinda puzzled, and then she says, ‘Oh, it must be my new necklace.’”

  “Necklace?”

  “She ordered a copper necklace off Etsy. It’s supposed to increase fertility.”

  I pace. “You’re telling me that since Nicole wore a copper necklace, none of the boys can connect with her psychically?”

  Tessa grins. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We passed the necklace around, and everyone tried it. It worked on all of us.”

  I fling myself at Tessa and lock her in bear hug. “I can’t believe it’s this easy.”

  “I know,” she says, nodding into my chest. “It’s a miracle. I ordered forty of the necklaces. I hope that’s okay…it cost $6000.”

  I pull back, choking. “Seriously?”

  “They’re $200 each, but the lady gave me a discount.”

  We both burst into laughter, and we hug some more.

  I’d pay a helluva lot more to keep our daughter safe.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Christmas is coming up fast. One week away, and Tessa’s in panic mode.

  “No,” she says, laughing, as she bats my grabby hands away. “Later. I have to wrap presents. I have almost a hundred to wrap!”

  “Are you kidding me? A hundred presents? I thought we agreed on a budget.”

  I follow her to Matt’s old room, which we turned into her studio. She opens the closet and starts handing me boxes.

  “We did. And I came in under budget, Mr. Cheapo.”

  “But
a hundred presents,” I say again, craning my neck around the stack of stuff in my arms. “We don’t even know a hundred people.”

  “Follow me. I don’t get why you’re having trouble wrapping your head around this.”

  We go out to the living room and dump the boxes on the floor. I follow Tessa back to her studio, where she loads me up again.

  “How many presents did you usually get under the tree?”

  “Maybe ten or so,” I say. “Depended on what I got. If a high-ticket item was in there, I got less. But Mom liked to make sure I had enough to open. Sometimes I got socks.”

  Tessa smiles at me over her shoulder while we make another trip to the living room.

  “Okay, ten. For the four of us, that would be forty presents.”

  “Forty isn’t a hundred.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Jack, Mom, and I agreed on three each for every kid not in our homes. So I have ten for each of you—that’s thirty—plus sixty-three for Jack and Tyrion and the boys, plus six for Mom and Dad, plus three for Chris and Nicole, plus two for Mateo, two for Sean, and three for Kate and Kenneth.”

  “That’s 109 presents,” I say. “And you forgot to count yourself.”

  Tessa narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t shop for my own Christmas presents!”

  Oh. Right.

  “Just testing you,” I say. “I’ve got it covered.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “You haven’t bought me a single present, have you?”

  “I have it covered,” I repeat.

  She sighs. “At least there’s still a week left.”

  “Okay, then. You get to wrapping. I have some, uh, research to do on the computer. I’ll be in my office.” Amazon Prime is about to save my butt.

  “You’re not gonna help?” she says. “I’ve already wrapped all the stocking gifts, and my fingers are cramped as it is.”

  Stocking? Glad she mentioned that.

  “I’ll help you tomorrow,” I say. “I really need to find this information.”

  Tessa laughs. “Fine. Go shop. I’d really like a Roomba, you know. Just in case you need a suggestion.”

  I kiss her cheek. “My wife is not getting a vacuum for Christmas. She deserves silk and diamonds.”

  “But silk and diamonds won’t keep the floor clean.”

  I pat her butt and make my way to the office.

  I order the damn Roomba.

  You have to listen when a woman speaks.

  ***

  Since my mom and grandma died, Christmas hasn’t been much of a celebration. With only me and Dad, it’s been more of a chore.

  But there is something magical about having children around at the holidays.

  They can’t contain their excitement. They want to write long letters to Santa and the reindeer, and leave out cookies and carrots for them. They sit with their noses pressed to the window on Christmas Eve, hoping to catch a glimpse of the jolly man and his sleigh.

  I am caught by complete surprise by all of this. Mom tried to encourage my belief in Santa Claus, but I figured out the truth before I was two. We baked cookies during the holidays, and Mom played Christmas carols and we danced and sang along. We drove around our neighborhood, looking at all the lights, and if there was a children’s play going on, she’d take me. We saw A Christmas Carol and The Grinch.

  Grandma played carols, too, and she liked to bake, but I only had two solid Christmases with her before she started to lose it.

  Dad and I would eat turkey sandwiches, go to see whatever blockbuster movie was released on Christmas Eve, then we’d sleep in as late as possible and open a few gifts.

  I’d almost forgotten what Christmas could be.

  Tessa and Erica take the lead. They make the holiday special.

  At four-thirty Christmas morning, we awaken to a loud THUMP! I jolt out of bed and run to Free’s room. He’s peeking his head out of his doorway, a grin across his lips.

  “Good. You’re awake,” he says.

  “I am now. Did you fall out of your crib, buddy?”

  “I jumped.” He tugs on the circle of copper fastened tight about his neck. “If I wasn’t wearing this stupid necklace, I could have called to you in your mind. But I had to take direct measures.”

  “Is something wrong? Are you sick?”

  “Of course not,” he says. “It’s Christmas morning. We need to get up and open presents.”

  I pick him up and kiss his head. “It’s a bit early,” I say. “How about we sleep for a few more hours, then we can open presents.”

  Tessa comes down the hall from the kitchen. “Coffee’s brewing, and I’m making hot chocolate. Merry Christmas!” She walks right by us.

  “Wait,” I say, following her to Em’s room. “Don’t you think we need a little more sleep?”

  “Nope.” She opens Em’s door and finds Em standing up in her crib. “Merry Christmas, Em!”

  “Merry Christmas! Did Santa come?”

  Tessa picks her up. “He did. Let’s use the potty, and I’ll get everyone something to drink, and I’ll break out the cookies, and we can see what he brought.”

  Em and Free squeal.

  I yawn.

  But honestly, the kids’ reaction is priceless. Kinda makes me excited to see what Santa brought me.

  ***

  We already agreed to meet at Jack and Tyrion’s at ten. But at six-thirty, Free is practically in tears.

  “It’s Christmas morning, and I want to see my brothers!” he insists. “They’re awake, I’m sure of it.”

  I’m tempted to let him take his necklace off, but that won’t accomplish anything if the other boys have theirs on.

  So Tessa calls Jack. I can barely catch Jack’s voice over the screams and laughter in the background.

  “You might as well come over,” Jack says, laughing. “The boys are dying to see Em and Free.”

  “Okay,” Tessa says. “Ten minutes.” She clicks off. “Thomas, you load the gifts into the car, and I’ll handle the kids and the food.”

  “We can’t shower and be there in ten minutes,” I say. “I can barely put my pants on that fast.”

  “You don’t need a shower. You don’t even need pants. You’re dressed.”

  “In my pajamas,” I say.

  “Throw on a robe and let’s go! This is fun! It’s not even light out yet. The gifts are all there by the door. I’m gonna grab the kids’ jackets, pack the food, and we’ll go.”

  “I’ll get them,” Free says, running to his room. Tessa heads to the kitchen.

  Em follows me to the gift pile by the front door. “Do you really need more sleep, Daddy? It’s okay. We can see everyone later.”

  I shake my head. “I’m being a poopy pants,” I say. “Don’t mind me. Mom’s right. This is fun.”

  Em eyes me skeptically. “I don’t know if you’re having any fun.”

  Tessa told me once that I don’t have a lot of fun.

  I go over to the Christmas tree, standing by the picture window in the living room. I find a sticky bow amongst the pile of discarded wrapping paper and stick it on my head. “Do I look like I’m having fun now?”

  Em grins and runs over to me. She finds another bow and waves me down to her level. I squat down next to her, and she sticks the bow on my cheek. “That looks pretty good.”

  “Give me some more.”

  She sticks a red bow to my ear, a green one to my chest, and two silver ones on my forehead.

  “That should do it,” she says.

  I give her a bug hug. Oh, the things we do for our kids.

  ***

  Free and Em wade right into the glorious mess that is the home of nineteen boys.

  Tessa, too, plunges in with no fear.

  I kinda hang back, afraid to step on someone.

  Jack laughs when she sees me. Then she gives me a great big hug.

  “Merry Christmas, Thomas. You look a little freaked out,” she whispers in my ear.

  We pull apart. “I just wasn’t p
repared for this,” I say. “I should have been, but we’ve been so busy…I barely gave Christmas a thought. If it weren’t for Tessa…wow, the kids would have had a shitty Christmas.”

  “Not shitty,” she says, poking me in the rib cage, “just different. My Christmases growing up were nothing like this. Everything was very formal and ordered. We got three presents each, no matter what, and we had to wait while each person took a turn opening a gift. If we’d have done that this morning, we would have been opening gifts for a week.”

  “I feel so bad,” I say. “Tessa went to so much trouble, and put so much thought into everything, and I ordered her gifts a few days ago.”

  “Please tell me you bought the Roomba.”

  “I bought the Roomba.”

  Jack links her arm through mine. “Then it’s all good. You’re lucky to have her, Thomas. The kids are all lucky to have her. You and I and Tyrion and Dad, we bring the science. But Tessa, she brings the magic.”

  We watch Tessa flop on the floor in the middle of the boys. She’s in the process of greeting each by name and giving each one a kiss, a hug, and a ‘Merry Christmas.’

  Fifteen plops in her lap. He’s holding a complicated Lego spaceship, already fully built, of course, and begins explaining its intricacies. Tessa gives him her full attention.

  “Should we call Dad and Erica?” I ask. “They wouldn’t want to miss this.”

  “They’re on their way,” Jack says.

  I raise an eyebrow. “How’d that go over with Dad?”

  “He’s the one who called me. He said he politely waited until six o’clock to make sure we had our rest.”

  I laugh.

  ***

  It’s after ten by the time we get home. We spent the day in pajamas, even ate Christmas dinner in our pajamas. Dad and Erica were the only ones without bedhead.

  The kids predictably fell asleep in the car. We get them to their cribs, and then Tessa and I finally have some alone time.

  She sits cross-legged on our bed and pats the space in front of her. I toe off my slippers and join her.

  “Look under your pillow,” she says.

  I lift the pillow and pull out an eight by ten canvas. The painting is of me, sitting in a chair, with Em and Free both on my lap, smiling up at me, and me making a silly face at them.

  “This is beautiful,” I say with a grin. “And perfect. Absolutely perfect. Look at Em. You captured her face so brilliantly, and Free…you can truly see the light in his eyes. This may be your best painting yet.”