The Kindred Soul of Nora Faye: The Tethered Soul Series, Book 3

by Laura C. Reden

  “Ohh, Becca. What am I going to do with you?” Brooklyn asked, wrapping an arm around me. I smiled at her and opened my mouth when a flicker of movement caught my eye.

  “I knew it!” I said.

  “Is that them?”

  “Yeah, only that’s Everly, my niece, and the little one is Wes. Chloe must be busy today,” I said, watching them get out of the car.

  “Awe, he’s so cute! And she looks a lot like you. She’s got your coloring, that’s for sure,” Brooklyn said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Well, hey, I’ve got to run. I told Tanner I would meet him at the police academy for lunch today.” Brooklyn gathered her bag and stood up. “Thanks for the cocoa.”

  “Anytime. I’m going to stay here for a bit and read. Tell Easton I said hi.”

  “Ha, read . . . You know you don’t read when you’re here.”

  “I do! Sometimes,” I said, smiling.

  I waved Brooklyn goodbye and then turned my attention back to my niece. She looked like a young adult. Maybe graduating high school soon? And she did look like me. A lot more so when I was younger. I wondered if it was hard for my mom or brother to watch her grow up. Wes turned his head in my direction right as a sharp pain stabbed into my side. I pushed my hand into the cramp and breathed through it, all too aware that he had seen my face again. As the cramp subsided, I saw Wes tugging on my niece’s sweatshirt.

  By the look on his face, it was time to go. The last thing I wanted was another disturbance. The poor boy probably had nightmares. I stood up, and a gush of warm water soaked my jeans. I twisted around to see my hot cocoa still full on the bench next to me. I grabbed my tummy. It wasn’t long before I gathered my water had broken, and I was going into labor. I still had another month until I was full term, but my doctor told me it wasn’t uncommon to deliver early when you were carrying twins. I took nearly two steps towards my truck when a contraction hit, and I called out. Bringing attention to myself was not what I wanted to do. Not when the only people at the park were my niece and nephew. But that’s exactly what happened. First, it was Everly. Then, Wes came running across the playground.

  “Oh my god. Oh my god. What do I do? Oh, shit—” Everly panicked, placing her hand on my back. I felt a zing of electricity pass through her touch. It was my body recognizing her as my family, and I wondered if she felt it too.

  “I’m good. I’m totally OK. I’m just going to drive myself to the hospital,” I said, adjusting my oversized sunglasses and tugging at my scarf.

  “Can you even drive?” Everly looked back to the fluid that covered the bench. Her expression covered in worry.

  “Oh, yeah.” My voice became more and more strained as I felt another stir of tightness approaching.

  “OK. I’m just going to help you to your truck.”

  “That would be great,” I said, waddling to the parking lot. It was clear to see which vehicle was mine. It was the only other vehicle in sight and right in front of hers. We headed straight for it. “Ahh,” I called out, bending over in pain.

  “Shit. Shit. Call 9-1-1! Wes, call 9-1-1!” Everly shouted.

  “No! No. You. You don’t. Need to. Do that,” I huffed. “Ahh!” I bent over violently, propelling my sunglasses off my face. Wes hurried to pick them up. I knew the trouble I was in when he saw my face, and I only hoped that my niece hadn’t been shown many photos of me. Perhaps she was too stressed out to notice. One could only hope.

  “I think I need to drive you. Yeah. I’m going to drive you,” she said.

  “No, you don’t need—”

  “You can’t drive! You can barely walk!” She had a good point there. I stood as straight as I could, taking baby steps to the parking lot. But when we approached her car and my truck, she was obviously right, and I couldn’t drive in my condition. She opened her car door, and I slowly sat in her passenger seat. Wes climbed in the back, where he sat on a booster. “OK. Just hang on.”

  Everly took off, and I nearly bashed my head into the window. She was a terrible driver. I spread my hands out, one on the dash and one gripping the overhead handle, bracing myself. Between contractions, I thought about how I ended up in my niece's car—and more importantly—how my brother survived teaching this girl to drive. “My name’s Everly, and that back there is my little brother Wes,” she said.

  “Hi,” I choked out a breathless reply. I wanted to tell her I knew who she was. I wanted to talk to her for hours.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  I had to stop and think about it, which was difficult when my body felt like it was trying to split in two. Beck would be too incriminating, and Everly was surely out the window. “Becca! Ahh!” I cried, gripping the overhead handle. Everly stepped on the gas, and we all but peeled out, rounding the corner into the hospital parking lot. I didn’t know what was worse, the fear of inexperienced driving, or the two little people trying to break out of my body. “Thank you,” I whispered. My voice disappearing under the pain.

  “OK, little man, we’ve got to help Becca into the hospital. Can you help me?”

  “Yeah! I’m gonna help!” Wes said.

  I opened my door and swung my legs out of the car, my niece and nephew helping to pull me to my feet. Gravity was not my friend, but Everly did what she could to help support me. Wes stuck by her side, gripping a fist full of her sweater. We were almost to the emergency entrance when the large glass doors opened, and a nurse with a wheelchair rushed to our aid. “Ahhh,” I groaned, unable to sit until the contraction passed. Everly rubbed my back, and tears spilled from my eyes. Though they weren’t the kind of tears that fell from the searing pain, they had been the kind that fell when you reunite with family you hadn’t seen in far too long. The level of love and comfort I had with my niece and nephew—even never having spoken to them before—was far greater than anything I had experienced with a friend. There was something deep and raw between us that ran through my veins, and I wondered if Everly felt the connection, too. I knew the little man did.

  “Good luck!” Everly called out as the nurse rolled me away.

  “Luck!” Wes echoed.

  I craned my neck to look at them one last time before the doors closed, but that involved a full body twist that I was incapable of. I muttered something inaudible that turned into a full sob. I had come so close. I only wished I could convey what they had meant to me; now . . . then. I’d say it too if I didn’t think I would scare them with my words from beyond the grave.

  “Is there somebody I can call dear?” the nurse asked. I’d lost my chance, was all I could think. “Dear, is there somebody I can call for you?”

  Easton! I patted my pockets and the side of my wheelchair. I didn’t have my phone, my bag . . . nothing. “I don’t, I don’t know his number,” I cried, searching and researching the same pockets. “It’s on speed dial. I don’t know it . . .” I said. How could I be so stupid?

  “It’s OK. We’ll get you checked in, and I’m sure it’s on file. We’ll find it and call for you. What is the name of the person you are trying to contact?”

  “Easton. Easton Green. He’s my husband!”

  “OK, dear. We’ll call Easton then,” the nurse reassured me.

  Checking in was fast. I was placed in a room and monitored by several people, all who were incredibly nice. I was doing well keeping myself calm until a nurse came in to update me on Easton. “Hello, dear. My name is Judy, and I’ve been trying to reach your husband for you. He’s not answering his phone. Is there someone else we can call?” she asked.

  “He’s at the police academy. Can you call them? There’s only one, and it’s in Decord City,” I said.

  “I’ll give it a shot, and I’ll let you know what they say,” Judy said before disappearing from the room. I closed my eyes, hoping he’d be here shortly, but Decord City was an hour away, and I didn’t want to wait that long to see him. I was going to have these babies all alone.

  “Becca?” a small voice called from the hall.
I opened my eyes to see Everly and Wes standing in the entryway. “You left your bag in my car,” she said.

  Immediately I began crying again. I waved them to come in, and I could tell that my emotional state made her somewhat uncomfortable, but I couldn’t stop myself. Wes jumped on my bed, holding out the sunglasses I’d dropped at the park.

  “Wes, no!” Everly snapped.

  “It’s OK,” I said, sniffling. “Thank you, little man. That’s so thoughtful of you,” I said, careful not to wink at him again.

  “You look like Everee,” Wes said. I smiled widely and looked up at her. She wore an expression I couldn’t quite read.

  “Thank you,” I said. Everly was a beautiful girl, and if I truly did look anything like her, I was a lucky girl.

  “Well, we should go. I just wanted to make sure you had your things,” she said.

  “Thank you so much.” My chest tightened, and I felt like I was losing my chance again. Like they were slipping through my fingers, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  “Dear, I called the police Academy, and they said they would pass the message to him,” Judy said in the doorway. My heart sank. The quickest Easton would be here would be an hour, and that was if he hit most of the green lights. Everly took Wes’s hand and tried to pull him off the bed, but he wouldn’t budge.

  “Nooo,” he whined.

  “Wes, don’t do this. We have to go.”

  I swallowed down the uncertainty surrounding what I was about to do and just did it. “Stay?”

  “What?” Everly asked.

  “Yeah!” Wes cheered.

  “Please stay. My husband is a least an hour out. I have nobody here with me. I’m scared. Can you stay? At least until he gets here?” I asked, my voice tapering off as another contraction came. “Ahhh!”

  “OK. OK. OK. We’ll stay!” Everly took my hand in hers and squeezed it tight. The electric shock ran up my arm.

  Chapter 19

  Everly gripped my hand tight as the contractions wracked through my body. I was practically begging for the epidural by the time it was first offered to me, and I accepted before Judy could even finish talking. Everly held my hand for that too and I stared into her beautiful green eyes—my eyes—as the needle penetrated deep into my spine. Sweat dripped from my hairline and my heart pounded in my chest. My body felt as if it were under attack from the inside out, and my heart felt guarded but full. The last thing I wanted was to scare my niece, and I worried Chloe would walk through the door at any moment. Or worse, my brother.

  Having my niece and nephew with me was my chance to tell them everything I had ever wanted. But I couldn’t do that with words. I couldn’t tell them what I wanted to; the stories of their dad when he was a little boy or what it was like to grow up with their grandma and grandpa. I couldn’t tell them that one day—when I was truly gone—I’d watch out over them. Or that I had been doing it now. I’d have to convey the love I had for them in another way. “Tell me about yourself,” I said to Everly as the epidural worked its magic and blocked out the pain.

  “Well, I’m graduating high school soon, and I’m going to be a graphic artist,” Everly said. Her cheeks were red, just like mine had been my whole life. Lives.

  “Oh, wow. Is that something that runs in the family?” I prodded.

  “Actually, yeah. My aunt was going to be a graphic artist too. The talent skipped my dad, but my grandma has it even though she says she doesn't.” Everly tucked her ashy blond strands behind her ears and then returned her clasped hands to her lap. She was nervous.

  I thought about all the terrible drawings Carter drew as a kid. “Your aunt?” What was I doing?

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry, she died,” Everly waved her hand dismissively.

  My gut wrenched, though not from a contraction. Or if it was, I guess I wouldn’t have known, as I was numb from the waist down. But there was something to be said about listening to your own bloodline talk about how you died. Especially when they batted their hand as if it were an annoyance. I couldn’t blame her, though. The girl had never met me. My brother wasn’t much of a talker, so I assumed he hadn’t opened up much to anyone about me. She probably heard some stories from my parents now and then growing up, but that still didn’t make me real to her. Or important. But if she knew it was me here now, that would change things. . .

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry,” I said. I was sorry I couldn’t stay longer to have met her.

  “Oh, it’s OK. It was a long time ago,” she said.

  “Yeah, but . . . I’m sure it’s really hard?”

  “Um . . . well, like I didn’t know her. So. . .” Everly shrugged. I deserved that. I had no right trying to dig into her past, my past . . .

  “Right.” I stared at her, searching for hidden feelings deep down inside while she looked around the hospital room nervously.

  “Actually, you kind of look like her,” she said. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. It wasn’t much, but at least there was that. And the art; that was special too.

  “Look who’s talking,” I laughed, caught up in the moment. It wasn’t until her eyebrows pulled that I realized I had said too much. “Oh, wow. Is it hot in here? It’s so hot.” I placed the back of my palm against my forehead, and Everly jumped up to feel if I had a fever.

  “Should I call the nurse?” she asked.

  “No, I think I’m OK. But thank you. So, tell me about Car . . . Your dad . . .” Shit . . .

  “My dad? He just works. Like all the time. That’s it,” she shrugged again.

  “Hu . . . And your mom?”

  “My mom’s busy with this little guy—” Everly motioned to Wes sitting on a chair with her cell phone. “He was an oops baby. He’s the apple of her eye, though,” she said with a smile. I felt bad for her. The poor girl needed her aunt, and I wasn’t there for her.

  “And you?” I asked.

  “I had my time when I was a baby. I had been the only grandkid for many years.”

  “Huh. . .” I rubbed my belly, never wanting either of the twins to feel like they were second best.

  “I have a boyfriend. . .” she said.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. We’ve been dating for a little over a year now. I’m not sure what we're going to do when he moves away to college. I guess we’re going to try and make it work. But, it’ll be hard. I’m staying local. There’s a great university nearby for the arts,” Everly said while looking down at her feet, a helpless fog in her eyes.

  “Try not to dwell on it. I think everything will work out just the way it’s supposed to,” I said.

  “You think?”

  “I know,” I said.

  It was then that I caught a figure standing in the doorway. Easton. He sprinted into the room and wrapped his arms around me tight. “I’m so sorry. I came as fast as I could. I got a police escort,” Easton said, his face buried in my neck.

  “It’s OK. I’ve been in good company,” I said.

  Easton pulled away and stilled for a moment as he looked into my eyes, surveying them. He straightened his back and turned to Everly. “Hello,” he said, tight-lipped.

  “Hi. Um, I’m Everly, and that’s my little brother, Wes. We were just leaving,” Everly said, standing.

  “Hi buddy,” Easton said to Wes.

  “Hi.”

  “Lucky for me, Everly and Wes were at the park when my water broke. They drove me here and have been keeping me company while I’ve been waiting for you,” I said.

  “You’ve been a big help today. Thank you, buddy,” Easton said to Wes.

  “Yeah. With my sisers. . .” Wes said.

  Easton stared at the little boy as he mindlessly played on the phone. Everly shook her head, dismissively rolling her eyes at his comment. Easton’s eyes flickered to mine, and the air shifted in the room. Frigid goosebumps prickled my skin.

  “OK, well. We better go. I wish you and your baby the best,” Everly said.

  “Babies. There’s two of them,” I tol
d her.

  “Wow. That’s . . . Wow.” Everly shook her head. “Come on, little man. Time to say goodbye.”

  “Bye. Bye. Bye sissser. Bye,” Wes waived on his way out the door.

  “Bye, buddy. Bye!” I blew a kiss, and the last thing I saw before the door closed was his chubby cheeks pucker into a smile. The moment they were gone, a weight had lifted off my chest that I didn’t even know I’d been carrying. I took a deep breath for the first time since my labor had started and turned my gaze to Easton. Who was . . . not happy.

  “What?”

  “What in the world was that?” he demanded.

  “Oh. That. Well, I was at the park—”

  “The park?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment of regret. The labor had somehow made my lips loose, and I had been divulging too much. “I sometimes . . . go to the park to read, and—”

  “You mean the park next to your brother’s house?”

  “Well . . . that’s the only one around. So—”

  “Beck, what are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I just . . .”

  “You’re not sorry.”

  He called my bluff. “I’m not sorry,” I admitted, picking at an imaginary fuzz on my hospital blanket. “I sometimes go just to watch Wes play. And Chloe is such a good mom. It’s just . . . I don’t know . . . It’s nice. It’s nice to see that the life I left behind was still going, and that I didn’t disrupt it too much by leaving. I like seeing them happy. It makes me feel whole,” I said, shrugging. I wasn’t sorry for making my heart full. It was essential to my well-being.

  “That’s fair,” Easton admitted. His tone heavy with sadness. “Have you ever been caught?”

  “No! No . . . But this one time, Wes called me his sister. And then I hid behind a book.”

  “Sister?”

  “Yeah. I think he senses that she and I are alike.” I nodded, keeping the part where I voluntarily lifted my disguise, winked at the boy, and probably gave him nightmares.

  “So, how did they end up here?” Easton asked, sitting on the bed.