Ineffably Yours

A Teatime Chat

Aziraphale stared blankly at Jenna, his delicate china tea cup with painted blue chrysanthemums frozen halfway to his lips. "No," he said in a hushed, almost horrified tone.

Jenna nodded sadly and reached into her pocket. "Unfortunately, yes," she sighed, pulling out her phone and scrolling through messages. "Hold on--ok, here's the text." She offered the device to the angel, who blinked twice, set down his tea cup and accepted it gingerly, as though it were incendiary. "I know it sounds nice and everything, and I really want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but--"

"But it's incredibly selfish and inconsiderate!" cried Aziraphale loudly, bright blue eyes narrowing as he read. "Not to mention terrible timing on his part! I cannot believe," he continued indignantly, "that after, what, five years of no contact? This--this person--" he spat venemously, gesturing at the screen and glaring at it as if 'person' wasn't exactly the word he had in mind "--thinks it's a jolly good time to reach out to, let alone visit, his estranged adult daughter!"

Jenna shrugged, blushed and hung her head in shame. "Yeah, well," she mumbled, staring at a pattern on the gold and crimson Persian rug that vaguely resembled a lion. "Timing's never really been Dad's strong suit."

Aziraphale snorted mirthlessly. "Yes, that's rather the impression I acquired upon learning of his impromptu engagement and marriage to--" He stopped abruptly when Jenna cringed. "Oh my dear, I am so sorry, how insensitive of me--"

"It's alright, don't worry bout it," replied the young Celestern quickly, shaking her head with a small smile that did not extend to her mournful blue-green eyes.

Aziraphale bit his lip and continued frowning with great concern at his friend. "H-how do you feel about--about all this, Jenna?" he asked gently, handing the phone back to her.

She took it and set it down on the end table, then continued to stare at the lion pattern as she pondered his query. "I guess, conflicted and distressed are the best words to use overall," she replied carefully after a minute. "When I first saw the message two days ago, I was just numb, then that gave way to pretty intense anger--Crowley helped me through that, I think he's pretty mad too--but then my anxiety and guilt caught up with everything and I just feel--well, super unsure how to respond now," she confessed, looking up into her angelic best friend's sympathetic azure eyes. "I feel bad for not making more of an effort to connect the last five years--I was angry that he--" she gulped "--married Marjorie, and didn't want anything to do with him at all. But I shouldn't have let that--I should have called, or at least done more than sent him birthday and holiday cards--"

"But Jenna," said Aziraphale tentatively but with imploring eyes, unable to restrain his opinion any longer, "isn't it true that he put even less effort into your relationship?"

"Well--" Jenna began as the urge to defend her father arose.

"He didn't even call to tell you he was getting--well, your aunt did! And did you once receive any cards or letters from him," he continued vehemently, righteous anger returning, "even just to say he received yours?"

Jenna frantically searched her memories for any that contained a shred of evidence in the man's defense, but her heart already knew there was none. Heart pounding, she shook her head, closed her eyes and let the tears trail down her flushed face.

Aziraphale tsked, inwardly chided himself and moved to her settee. "I'm sorry to put it so harshly, dear," he said softly, offering a gladly-accepted embrace and rubbing her upper back comfortingly. "I shouldn't have--God knows I get monstrously self-centered when angry--"

Jenna laughed thickly through her tears. "That's exactly what Crowley said, 'cept it was more like, 'Oh G--Someone I'm a selfish bastard when I get mad.'"