As the front door slammed shut, the sudden noise reverberated through the house, startling Mrs. Jonas and Madison in the kitchen. Instinctively, Madison grasped a knife, while Mrs. Jonas reached for the large wooden spatula hanging on the wall. Cautiously, they approached the door, prepared to face any potential intruder.
However, as they turned the corner, they collided with Mr. Jonas, who had just entered the house. The unexpected impact sent all three tumbling to the floor, yet they managed to hold onto the nearby sofas for support.
Mrs. Jonas, her hand on her stomach, exhaled a sigh of relief. "Oh! What a relief! I thought it was some scoundrels breaking in!" Madison, still clutching the knife, eyed her mother with a hint of mischief. "I was ready, mother!"
Mrs. Jonas' inquiry, "And what exactly would you have done if they had approached you?", was met with Madison's confident assertion, "They wouldn't have been able to lay a finger on me. Situations like that unleash the crockery demon within me. Jet Lee's karate stands no chance against me when I'm mad!"
Mrs. Jonas' playful jab, "You sure can build castles in the air! You would have jumped behind me and held me tight, trampling my clothes", was met with Madison's quick wit, "Would you have been more worried about your trampled clothes than about your daughter's safety? And I call you my mother! Incredible!"
Mrs. Jonas' response, "I'm a lady. I get the first prize in all the beauty contests I enter. I should be calm at all times, even during the darkest hour", was met with Madison's teasing, "I know you're just saying that to get to me!"
As they both burst into laughter, Madison playfully hit her mother's shoulder. Mrs. Jonas turned to face her husband, who was rubbing his head, a look of bemusement on his face.
"Dear, are you okay?" Mrs. Jonas asked, her voice laced with concern.
"Yes, I am," Mr. Jonas replied, his tone reassuring.
Mrs. Jonas' gaze remained fixed on her husband, her eyes searching for a glimmer of truth. "You're a part of me, and simply by looking at your eyes, I can tell that you're not okay," she stated, her intuition honed by years of marriage.
Mr. Jonas' attempt to deflect her concern was evident in his query, "What's for dinner?"
Mrs. Jonas' response, "It's only veggies – especially for Madison. It's her fourth year of being a vegetarian," was met with a beaming smile from their daughter.
Mr. Jonas' unexpected praise, "Happy anniversary, my daughter! You make Daddy proud!" was met with a grateful "Thank you, Dad" from Madison.
Mrs. Jonas' persistence in uncovering the truth was unwavering. "Mr. Smith, what's the problem? You've never been supportive of her being a vegetarian, and then overnight you're suddenly OK with it. You thought she was being stupid and simply putting pressure on herself to please some jocks at college."
Madison's gasp of surprise was palpable, "Father said that?"
Mrs. Jonas' reassuring touch on her daughter's arm was accompanied by a gentle admonishment, "Yes, he did. I didn't have to tell you though. So, just forget about it."
Turning to her husband, Mrs. Jonas' words were laced with a deep trust and understanding. "Darling, we are one. We both said our vows out loud. We deeply meant them, or so I assume you did. I trust you with my life. Please, share with me."
Mr. Jonas' kiss on his wife's forehead was a gesture of appreciation for her concern, but his reluctance to share his thoughts was evident in his response, "It's nothing. Your mind is racing too much. I'm thankful for your concern."
"Do you think I'm going to let this slip, just like that?" Mrs. Jonas asked, her voice firm and commanding. "When we collided just now, you flew, you didn't have any balance. Your eyes are crimson red. You hobbled just now."
Mr. Jonas' response was laced with sarcasm. "It was two against one! Of course, your combined weight defeated mine! What were you expecting to happen? I am not masculine. I am not a superman who defies gravity."
Mrs. Jonas' accusation was direct. "You're lying to my face!"
Mr. Jonas' counterquestion was evasive. "What exactly are you accusing me of? Are you saying that I went out and slept with another woman?"
Mrs. Jonas' rebuke was stern. "It's shameful that you would even think of that."
Madison's intervention was timely. "Please, don't fight. It's not my favorite scene to witness live."
Mrs. Jonas' observation was astute. "You're drunk, Mr. Jonas. It's been thirteen years since you last touched alcohol."
Mr. Jonas' admission was grudging. "You're right. I'm a little tipsy. So what? Am I not allowed to go out with friends on a holiday for drinks?"
Mrs. Jonas' reprimand was firm. "When you have to wake up to work the following day, no, Mr. Jonas, you're not allowed! Worse, you got drunk!"
Mr. Jonas' sudden candor was stunning. "You want to know why I'm like this? Huh? You really want to know the truth?"
Mrs. Jonas' encouragement was cautious. "If you'll be honest with your response, yes."
Mr. Jonas' revelation was explosive. "Our son, Jonathan Travis Jonas, is as bent as a three-dollar bill."
The collective gasp from Mrs. Jonas and Madison was audible, their hands flying to their mouths in shock.
Mr. Jonas' words were laced with anguish. "Now, do you blame me for taking shots down my throat? Do you?" he asked, his eyes pleading for understanding.
Mrs. Jonas' composure crumbled, and she broke down in tears.
Madison's expression was a mix of shock and disbelief. "I am! It just somehow hasn't sunk in," she stammered.
Mr. Jonas' gaze narrowed, his eyes fixed on Madison. "Did you know about this, Madison?" he asked, his tone accusatory.
As he took a step closer to Madison, she and Mrs. Jonas instinctively retreated, their eyes darting towards the door. Suddenly, it swung open, and Jonathan walked in, locking it behind him.
The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on the newcomer. Jonathan's gaze was drawn to his mother, his eyes widening in concern. "Mother, why are you crying?" he asked, his voice soft.
Mrs. Jonas' sobs intensified, her words barely intelligible. "Is it true, Jonathan? Is it?"
Mr. Jonas' anger boiled over. "You have the nerve to show up here!"
Jonathan's eyes darted between his parents, confusion etched on his face. "Is what true, mother?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.
Mr. Jonas' sarcasm was biting. "Now he's playing smarty-pants, excellent!"
Mrs. Jonas' pleas were heart-wrenching. "Tell me it's not true! Tell me it's not!" she begged, her eyes fixed on Jonathan.
Jonathan's gaze faltered, his eyes dropping to the floor as he fidgeted with his fingers, his silence deafening.
Mr. Jonas' words dripped with scorn. "Not so brave now, are we?"
Jonathan's tears flowed freely as he apologized, "I'm sorry, mother. I genuinely am."
Mr. Jonas' anger simmered. "Sorry for what, exactly? That I caught you red-handed or that you're seeing a man?"
Jonathan's voice cracked as he pleaded, "Mother, if your feelings are hurt, if your wishes and dreams about me are shattered, please find it in your heart to forgive me! I am sorry that your son has turned out this way!"
Mr. Jonas' outrage boiled over. "You're not sorry! You flaunted your shame in public! We had no idea, you ungrateful bastard! You fed on his lips and drank his saliva with everyone watching you! How could you do that, with a man?"
Jonathan's tears continued to fall as he whispered, "As crazy as it sounds, I call it love. It's too pure to be disguised."
Mr. Jonas' disgust was evident. "Look at you! After all the shame you've brought to us, you're not even remorseful! You told us nothing! What are we to say if the neighbors ask about you? Huh? Must we defend you?"
Jonathan's sniffles punctuated his words, "Father, you don't need to shout at me. I understand your anger. I understand that you're surprised. It's all new to you. That's exactly how I felt when I discovered this in myself."
Mr. Jonas' voice rose in indignation. "You are doing things that we never taught you! We raised you in church! We gave you a life that many kids could only ever dream of! And what do you do in the end? This!"
Jonathan's tears fell unabated as he replied, "With all due respect, I never asked to be brought to this earth. You two jointly did. You could've aborted me, or even given me up for adoption, but you didn't. Do you know why? Because you loved me. I am your son, your biological son. I haven't changed a bit."
Mrs. Jonas' sobs interrupted the heated exchange, "Stop! Just stop! Stop! You're hurting me!"
Mr. Jonas' words were laced with anger and disappointment. "You've disappointed us! You've dragged a good name through the mud! You don't deserve to be my son or a Jonas!"
Jonathan's tears continued to flow as he protested, "I love you, father, just as I always have."
Mr. Jonas' scorn was evident. "You're a humiliation to this family!"
Mrs. Jonas' sobs filled the room. "Now we will be a joke to this community! How will I go to church?"
Madison attempted to comfort her mother. "It's alright, mother. It's alright."
Mr. Jonas' voice rose in anger. "You're no longer a part of this family! I disown you!"
The room erupted in a chorus of tears, with Mrs. Jonas and Madison joining Jonathan in his anguish.
Jonathan's tears fell unabated as he pleaded, "Where is the love that you have for your son? You always promised to stand by me, through it all. You gave your word. In case I have to remind you, promises are made to be kept, not out of desperation or for convenience."
Mr. Jonas' response was unforgiving. "Just leave my house!"
Mrs. Jonas' sobs interrupted her husband's anger, "Please, dear, calm down. We all need to be rational. Jonathan can change. He can go to the mission and pray all day long. He can change!"
Jonathan's tears fell onto his mother's hands as he grasped them, his voice cracking. "I am sorry, mother. It's not a disease. I can't cure what's innate. I can't change, mother! I can't!"
Mr. Jonas' final words were damning. "You're a sinner! Go to hell!"
Jonathan's soft cries filled the room as he whispered, "Only God can judge me, father. I thought that you, as a Christian, would know that."
Mrs. Jonas' sobs intensified as she pleaded, "I am sorry, Jonathan, but I have to torment you for the last time. Can't you change?"
Jonathan's tears momentarily subsided as he replied, "I can't change, mother. I've already told you that."
Mr. Jonas' harsh words cut through the emotional atmosphere. "I have nothing left to say to you. I want you out by dawn!"
As Mr. Jonas ascended the stairs, Jonathan grasped his mother's hand and placed it on his heart. "Do you feel that? My heart is still beating. I am alive."
Mrs. Jonas' sobs acknowledged her son's words. "I know."
Jonathan's voice cracked as he continued, "I'm sorry that I'm putting you through all of this. It was never my intention. I'm also sorry that I'm very close to giving up in life. Stay well, mother, I'm going to pack and leave tonight."
With a heavy heart, Jonathan embraced his mother and sister, his lips brushing against their cheeks in a tender farewell. He then ascended the stairs, leaving behind a trail of tears and sorrow.
Two hours later, Jonathan reappeared, his suitcases a poignant reminder of his impending departure. Mrs. Jonas' sobs redoubled as she begged, "Please, don't leave! Your father will change his mind by morning, after he realizes what he's done. Don't leave, Jonathan, don't leave!"
Jonathan's voice was laced with a mix of sadness and determination. "Madison, take care of mother. Mother, stay well. I'll visit when father isn't at home."
Mrs. Jonas' desperation was palpable. "Where are you going at this time?"
Jonathan's response was reassuring. "Mother, don't worry about me. Take care of your husband. Tell him I won't erase him from my memories. He'll always be my hero."
As Mrs. Jonas and Madison enveloped him in a tearful embrace, Jonathan forced a smile and whispered, "I have to go. Bye!"