The Second Life of Everly Beck: The Tethered Soul Series Book 2

by Laura C. Reden

  It’s funny how an instant can change a perspective. One moment in the library. One look of curiosity. It was enough to set the hook, and I’d be there for Beck whether she wanted me as a friend or something more. At this point, I’m not sure she could get rid of me if she tried.

  I’d need a house if I was staying long-term, and from the looks of Beck’s schooling and friend base, I would be here awhile. There were a few options, but nothing exciting. Nothing in Clover was. The options I had available to me when I moved to Clover previously—to develop a relationship with Clyde—were slim to none. I chose the best house, but it still needed work, and while I had the time, I found myself living with the dysfunction instead of fixing it. I knew that would be the case for my next house as well, and I’d have to choose wisely if I ever thought Beck would move in with me.

  I settled into the hotel for the night, anxiously awaiting Beck’s promised call. Time moved beyond slowly, and I busied myself looking for real estate nearby. When the hunt bore no fruit, I watched a movie. And then, another. By the time 9:00 came, I couldn’t wait any longer. The phone-checking had become impulsive, and I questioned why I hadn’t called her myself. She was probably waiting for me to call, like I was waiting on her. Without any more thought, I picked up my phone for the umpteenth time and dialed her number. Was it too late? Would she answer? I pushed it all aside the moment I heard her voice.

  “Easton Green. You know, I still can’t believe that our paths have crossed for a second time.”

  My stomach wrenched at the sound of her voice. “I’m glad they have,” I said.

  “Um, about Sin City . . . now that you’ve had time to think about it, did you still want to go?” Beck sounded off, regretful perhaps, and I knew why. Though I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

  “Yeah! I can’t wait. I’m . . . I’m looking forward to meeting some new friends.” My eyes dropped to my lap and moved across the bedsheets in defeat.

  “Great! I’ll send you our flight information, and the hotel reservation, and you can book your stay. It’s going to be so much fun!”

  “Cool!” I cringed.

  “OK. I’ll, um . . . , I’ll see you next weekend then,” Beck said in a much lighter and more confident tone.

  “OK. Bye.”

  “Bye!”

  I wished I hadn’t called. The realization pulled me down like a cinder block tied to my ankle. Beck didn’t like me. It was as simple as that. The subtle drop in her tone when I made an advance was obvious. The pickup when I used the keyword friends. She was afraid of leading me on. I was just an old friend that she now had the pleasure of pitying because of my adoption sob story. Had she not been dying in her last life, she never would have given me a chance. Beck was out of my league.

  I ran my hands across my face and scrubbed my eyes. Would Sin City be my personal nightmare? Would I be “friend-zoned”? Had I really said cool?

  Chapter 7

  On the heels of my embarrassment, I had preparations to make before my trip with Beck and her friends. I needed to secure my position at the college as an attending student. I needed a home in Clover. And lastly, but possibly most important, I needed to go shopping. Sure, I should pick up a couple of shirts and swim trunks, but what I really needed was a birthday gift for Beck. An engagement ring would not suffice for a girl who couldn’t remember.

  I drank down the bitter, black hotel coffee as I swiped through job openings at the college. My laptop sprawled across my lap, and a pad of paper to my side that read “Student? Job?” The list was slim. I figured if I couldn’t get in as a student, as the enrollment period had already closed, I could at least shoot for a job at Norton. Anything that gave me a purpose to be on campus, because the stalker look wasn’t what I was going for.

  The college was in search of a janitor and a math professor. Although I didn’t enjoy math, I was good at it. Good enough to be a college professor. And I suppose if push came to shove, I could try for that position. Still, the chances were bleak without teaching credentials, and I didn’t have time to ask Clouse to fabricate the necessary materials. I wasn’t sure if he’d made it out of the bar that day anyway. If for some reason the university hired me for a position, I could twist my way out of telling Beck I was a student. Picking up the pad of paper to my side, I jotted down the details of the open position.

  I flipped the page and wrote “home?” and revisited the houses I was looking at previously. Of course, they were both still for sale. Nothing moved quick in Clover, but if I wanted my story to be plausible, I had to. I made a couple of phone calls and scheduled the viewings later that evening with the real estate agent, Tina McFay. She sounded as if it would be her first viewing in a week or longer but didn’t want to appear too open. She pushed me off until the evening. It worked out well, as I had errands to run anyway.

  I got dressed in a new variation of the same clothing I had shoved in my backpack and set off. I felt the need to get to the college as soon as possible, but the simple fact that I didn’t have clothing for an interview prompted me to go shopping first. The closest strip mall was nearly forty-five minutes away, and I spent the entire drive mulling over the perfect gift for Beck. I couldn’t give her what I wanted most, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized my options were limited. Unless I wanted to be an ex-neighbor with a restraining order, I needed to settle on something simple. Flowers were always a pleasant choice, but they’d die, and it’s not like she wanted to tote flowers around with her on the plane. A bracelet was too romantic for a supposed friend. Chocolate was an excellent choice, if it wouldn’t melt. I must have run through two dozen terribly unfitting gift ideas by the time I arrived at the mall.

  As I began weaving in and out of the shops, I noticed the demographics were eighty percent women. The men were either in tow with a girlfriend or hidden in groups of friends, and I wondered what all these people were doing off on a Friday afternoon. They couldn’t possibly be shopping for fun, could they? A way to pass the time and empty their pockets in doing so? I browsed the store names above every door and passed on most. But when I walked by a store filled with things that sparkled, I stopped dead in my tracks. If I knew one thing, it was that girls liked things that sparkled. Like a moth drawn to light, girls had been pining after shiny objects since as far back as I could remember. And that was saying a lot.

  I pulled the door open and entered the tiny shop filled with crystal objects. The air was still and stale. With little traffic to compete with, I immediately stole the attention of the store clerk, an elderly lady who was past the age of retirement but wouldn’t have it any other way. Despite how high she had climbed on the ladder of life, she had more time than most. Her cheeks fought gravity and lifted into small painted red cheeks on her weathered face.

  “Can I help you?” The woman asked, clasping her bony hands together. Right away, I could tell that this interaction may be the highlight of her week, and it was my duty as a Tethered Soul to make it count.

  “I’d love some help. I need to get a special gift, but I’m not sure what I’m looking for.” I walked up to a glass enclosure with tiered shelving and spinning trivets of glistening treasures.

  “Well, you came to the right place! My name is Patsy, and I’ll be helping you out today. Let’s start with some questions. Who is the gift for? And what is the occasion?” Patsy asked. I could tell I’d be spending more time here than I would like, but the sooner I accepted it, the easier it would be. So, I shook off my impatience and gave Patsy the best customer interaction she’d have in a long while.

  “Well, Patsy, it’s an interesting story. Do you have time for a story?” My eyes glanced around the empty store, and I feared it appeared as mockery. Of course, she had the time. But Patsy’s age-worn eyes didn’t pick up on the subtlety.

  “Oh, do tell me! I just love a good story.”

  “OK then. It begins with a girl . . .”

  Patsy’s eyes lit up. She was hungry for a real-life love story.


  “We used to be neighbors when we were kids. I loved her then, when I was eight.” I pulled out the picture of Beck and me on our second wedding from my wallet. This photo had a special place in my wallet, hidden behind a tri-folded blank check. The picture was worn and had a mark through the middle where it had been folded so many times before. The photograph was of our pretend backyard wedding. Beck held her rabbit, and I wore a suit that extended well beyond my limbs.

  Patsy gasped, bringing one hand to her stolen heart, and one shaky hand to the old photograph. It was among the few belongings I kept from my current childhood.

  “Does she love you, too?”

  “Well, see, that’s the problem. My family moved that summer. We lost touch for so many years. I only recently ran into her by chance at a college we both attend.”

  “Oh!” Patsy made a high-pitched sound somewhere between a statement and a question. Her eyes glistened with the tears of hope.

  “Yeah. I think it’s fate . . . I really do,” I said. And I wasn’t lying. Beck and I were fated mates. Even if she didn’t know it yet in this lifetime. We both knew in our last one. And I’d like to think we knew it as kids, too—when our subconscious ran wild and we weren’t yet caged by plausibility.

  “So, you want to give her a gift? I know just the one!” Patsy hobbled to a desk nearby and unlocked the glass lid. She lifted out a large crystal heart that came to a sharp point, and I couldn’t help but to see the resemblance to my own beating heart with its sharp, possibly dangerous edge.

  I smiled at the mere thought of handing Beck a large weighted heart for her birthday. I steepled my fingertips under my chin and pretended to consider Patsy’s perfect pick.

  “See, the thing is . . . I don’t want to come off too strong,” I said.

  Patsy’s eyes lowered to the heart in her hands. “I see . . .”

  “It’s her birthday, and actually, I think she has a boyfriend. So timing is important, and I don’t know that this is the time to tell her I love her. Not just yet.”

  “Oh! Yes, that’s good thinking.” She brought her hand to her cheek and let her old eyes wander the shop in thought. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I wanted to look around the shop myself, but I knew letting her help me was more important. It was when Patsy had a second perfect pick that I realized I would have to buy something just to make her happy, and I would have to shop for Beck’s birthday gift elsewhere, and I was OK with that.

  “It’s the perfect birthday gift for a girl in love,” Patsy said.

  “You know, I think you’re right! It’s perfect!” I stared down at the crystal bear holding a bouquet of pink balloons. I couldn’t possibly give it to Beck.

  “Isn’t he the cutest bear? I’ll wrap him up for you. She’s going to love it.” Patsy hobbled behind the register and wrapped the bear in white tissue paper. I lowered my forearms to the glass table between us and stretched my back. I let my eyes wander over the land of glimmer below until wandering was the last thing they wanted to do. My sights glued to a small crystal dragonfly no larger than a quarter. It had a green, beaded body and peridot wings. That was the perfect gift.

  “Patsy? Can you throw in that little dragonfly too?” I pointed to the corner of the display where the dragonfly rest.

  “Of course, dear!”

  I wondered if it would mean anything to Beck. If she would look at it and know it was something more special than eye candy.

  Patsy wrapped up my gifts with the speed of a tortoise and then checked me out in the same fashion. I glanced at my watch. I’d spent an hour in the store. I had to pick up the pace if I wanted to get to the college and make it in time for the house tours that evening.

  “Thank you, Patsy. I couldn’t have found the perfect gift for my girl without you.” I said.

  “Oh, dear. You go get her, you hear?” Patsy said.

  I winked at her before exiting and sliding my sunglasses back over my eyes.

  I dashed into the first shop that displayed men’s clothing in the window and picked up three collared shirts, two T-shirts, and an extra pair of jeans. A black blazer also found its way into my hands to help with my first impression, if I was fortunate enough to snag an interview. My sizes never changed, and it made shopping effortless. I left the store carrying a large paper bag and one tiny, pink, plastic one. I knew I should take the time to get a proper pair of dress shoes, but I was feeling the pressure to move on with my day.

  I had picked up my pace, but soon found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Right as I was about to step off the curb into the parking lot, a nearby pretzel stand caused my stomach to rumble and my mouth to water. I checked my watch again. I barely had time to grab a quick pretzel and soda before my drive to the college. As soon as I made the decision to wait in the line, my sense of urgency dissipated. It had happened to me many times over my past lives. Tugging, pulling, urges to be somewhere or do something. They never made sense . . . until they did. Till I discovered the true meaning. More often than not, I wondered if I was merely a pawn in someone else’s scheme.

  It was my turn to order, and I took a step forward to meet the young teen working the register. A tall striped hat was part of her uniform—the worst part.

  “I’ll have a pretzel and soda to go, please,” I said.

  “Name?”

  “Easton.”

  “That will be seven-fifty.”

  I gave her a ten, and when I received the change back, I dumped it in her tip jar. She thanked me with a smile. I waited for my order to be complete, and in doing so I unwrapped the crystal bear. I hadn’t planned to give it to Beck, and I certainly didn’t want to tote it around with me in my backpack. I examined the bear in my hand and concluded that Patsy was right; it was the perfect gift. Just not for Beck. I looked around at all the people passing by the pretzel stand and placed the bear on top of an open table in plain sight. The tightness in my stomach finally put me to ease as I left the gift where it needed to be. I turned my back on it and waited for my order, realizing I wasn’t hungry at all.

  It wasn’t long before I heard the gasp of a girl behind me. No doubt, it was at the sight of the bear on top of the deserted table. A gentle tug at the corner of my lips pulled upward, and pride replaced the tension I had felt in my chest. It was in these unique moments, few and far between, that I stopped wondering why I was a Tethered Soul, and simply was.

  “Oh my god! Hanna, look!”

  “Whose is that?”

  “I don’t know. It was just sitting here?”

  “OK, that’s . . . weird!”

  “Do you think . . .”

  “We should turn it in. It’s clearly somebody’s . . .”

  “I think it’s . . . yours?”

  There was a moment of silence before I could hear the muffled bout of emotion threatening to boil over. I wondered what the bear meant to her. Had her mother given her a teddy bear with pink balloons? Had she bought a crystal bear for her best friend or a sister before they passed? Could it be the same make and model? I didn’t need to know what it meant to the girl to know that it was special to her. The stifled cry was contagious, causing my throat to burn. I knew exactly how she felt as I held back the pain I shared with a person I’d never met but knew had loved and lost.

  “Easton! Order for Easton!”

  My attention snapped back to the food, and I gathered my bags and my pretzel to go. When I turned to leave, the girls passed me on the way to the counter and asked, “Do you know if this belongs to anyone? It was sitting at that table over there.” They both pointed to the table in unison. Only one girl had blood-shot eyes, and equal parts pain and hope streaming down her cheeks.

  The teen working the checkout replied, “No. Nobody has sat at that table all day. If you want it, it’s yours.”

  I’d passed just before hearing them gasp once more, and I walked away with a smile on my face that was deep enough to touch my heart.

  Chapter 8

  Now that I had Beck’s
birthday gift squared away, it was time to secure myself a reason for showing up at the college. Then, if I was lucky enough, a home as well. But when I found myself sitting in front of the dean, my hope all but slipped away.

  “I’m so sorry. You will have to wait for open enrollment. We’re not currently accepting students. And the math professor’s position was filled this morning, Mr. Green.” The dean, a woman late into her fifties with ebony skin and a brilliant blue scarf tied around her neck, examined my resume. It was the best prefabrication I could make with such brief notice.

  “I understand. Perhaps the professor will need a teacher’s aide? I could be of help,” I countered, pulling at my blazer collar, hoping I looked sharp.

  “We have all the aides we need at the moment. But check back with us. You never know what the future holds.” She clasped her hands together and rested them on her desk. A sure sign that she was ready for me to leave her office. I clenched my jaw. Not yet ready to give up.

  “Are there any job openings at the college? Anything?” I asked, sounding more desperate than I intended.

  “Well, there is one . . .” I raised my eyebrows and leaned forward in my chair. “We are in need of a janitor.”

  “. . . Anything . . . else?”

  “No, Mr. Green. That’s all.”

  I sighed. I needed a reason to be here. I needed time. Time to grow with her. Time to uncover the truth with her. Time to make her love me again. And I couldn’t do that if I didn’t attend the college.

  I cleared my throat, trying one last option. “I spoke with the counselor earlier who said you may have room for another student and that you might consider an exception?” It was a blatant lie, of course. The counselor told me just the opposite, in fact.