I saw the open water in front of me and, even at four, I thought it was strange. I didn’t understand that I was on the water, only that something was different. Then the bird sounds stopped when my mother screamed. Lisieux was strapped to her chest. I stood still, not daring to move.
“Siena, come this way,” my father instructed, his voice calm but firm.
I did as I was told, but it was too late.
Their warning came too late.
Beneath me the ground moved. But it was not the ground—it was ice. The cracking noise, combined with the terror on my mother’s face, made hot tears form in my eyes. It was the last heat I would feel that morning.
Water pooled around me, my snow boots taking in water mixed with chunks of ice. I called to them, but it was too late. My heavy clothes pulled me down. Even if I’d known how to swim, I would not have been able to fight the cold that instantly slowed my legs and arms. My heavy winter clothes soaked in ice water, dragging me quickly to the depths of the muddy pond.
My lungs filled, the cold attacking them. My mind whirled in terror, the sort that only a small child can feel. A small child that up until that moment had never known fear—yet in that moment I was certain I was going to die. I cried under the water, freezing water washing the tears away before they formed. I didn’t want to leave my mother. I loved her. I wanted to be with her always. That was my last thought.
I don’t remember my father jumping into the icy depths or the frantic search that ensued. It is a truth that the most important moments in a person’s life are, in fact, moments … the very shortest that feel like the very longest. I’m told his hand found the hood of my coat that was floating above me. He grabbed it and threw me, like a seal, onto the ice. My frozen body slid toward my mother. I’m told that even though she carried Lisieux against her, she managed to lift me. My father tried to escape the icy trap, but the ice cracked beneath him. Again and again, this happened. My mother was stuck motionless as her daughter lay dying in her arms and her husband fought to escape death’s hold.
He screamed for her to go, that he would be okay. He was close now; the ice was thicker, he yelled to her. So she did as he told her to and she ran as fast as she could, carrying both of her daughters through the heavy snow.
Hers was the first voice I heard. She was calling for Gigi, the same panic-stricken scream I’d heard when I stood on the ice. We were still in the woods, the light filtered by the snowy trees above my disoriented eyes. As she did her best to climb the slick hill, my father emerged behind us.
“Let me have her,” he said.
She handed me to him. I winced in pain. I didn’t want to leave her arms. Her arms were gentle. Lisieux’s little hands had been touching my face. His arms were hard and cold. He ran so fast the movement hurt.
Behind us, my mother screamed again and again for Gigi. As my dad reached the kitchen door, it opened. I was barely conscious, but even in that state I could sense the terror my grandmother felt when my dad rushed past her. He didn’t stop and took the stairs two at a time—the movement hurting my head, every touch felt like bruises being hit.
Water was pelting me.
I cried. What was going on? I didn’t want more water. My father’s arms were around me. He was trying to talk. I think he was trying to tell me it was all going to be okay, but his lips were blue and his teeth were chattering so hard I couldn’t understand him. Then my mother came. She was wet too, and her arms were open. She no longer carried Lisieux. He handed me to her. My father collapsed onto the floor, breathing hard. Her eyes were on his as she held me. That was when the pain truly began, like thousands of burning needles piercing my skin. I screamed and cried. I fought against her hold, but that made the pain worse, so I stopped fighting.
“Shh, baby girl, shh, it’s going to be okay. Your body got too cold, too cold to feel. Now it’s heating up. Shh, once it gets back to normal, it won’t hurt anymore. Shh, look at Daddy. He’s feeling the same as you. It’s hurting him too. I can see it in his eyes,”—her voice choked—“but he’s staying calm. He’s letting the water warm his body. He’s letting it bring him back. Shh, shh, now be brave. You’re a brave girl. Shh. Dear God, thank you.”
She was crying. That was why her voice sounded so strange.
I fell asleep in the shower. The exhaustion was too much for a four-year-old.
When I woke up, both my parents lay beside me. It was dark; I was in their bed, covered in their pillowy comforter and flannel sheets. Their hands clasped as my mom’s body pressed against mine, keeping me warm. Her right arm lay across my hip and my dad faced us.
I touched his cheek. It was prickly.
His eyes opened with a look of relief. He whispered, “You gave us a scare.”
“I didn’t know the ice was soft,” I said.
“No, we didn’t tell you,” he whispered. “We never thought you’d run ahead of us like that. We learned a lot today. We won’t make that mistake with your sister.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He moved his hand from my mom’s and pushed some hair behind my ear. “It’s my fault, not yours. It’s my job to protect you. And I failed at my job,” he said, his voice catching.
I touched his prickly face.
“You saved me,” I said.
“It’s my fault you needed saving.”
“Yes, Daddy saved you,” my mom’s voice whispered from behind me. “He will always save you.”
Her hand covered mine on his whiskery face. He placed his hand on top of ours and closed his eyes.
~~~
“Siena?” Avi said.
I sat up straighter. “I was thinking about the day I fell into the pond.”
“The day you almost drowned?”
I nodded. “It was Dad who saved me. He risked his life to save mine.”
“He would do anything to protect us,” she said confidently.
I thought about her words. “If you’re right about the past, then he didn’t.”
“He was younger than Lisieux. Of course, he didn’t care about future kids.”
“How could anything he did back then have anything to do with our lives?” Even as I asked the question, I knew it didn’t matter—not his actions, but my question. Somehow, what he did all those years before he’d met my mom mattered to us now. It was a truth that I didn’t understand, but it existed just the same.
Avi dusted some loose powder off the rock we sat on and it floated down onto the snow-covered pond. “I’m not sure, but he and Gigi think stuff back then matters.”
The demons do too, I thought silently.
Seven
We heard the distant saws whir to a stop.
Avi raised her head. “Luca will be passing here soon, on his way home for lunch.”
“How do you know that?” Neither one of us wore a watch, and I wasn’t even sure what time I’d woken up, let alone what time it was now.
“The saws turned off and my stomach growled, two clear signs it’s lunchtime,” she said as she twisted herself around and began to scoot off the frozen rock.
Jackson beat Avi off the boulder, leaping into the snow. Thanks to the bare woods, we could watch Luca heading up the trail that connected our two houses. Jackson saw him too, and ran straight for him. Off the trail the snow was deeper, never compacted by humans, but Jackson didn’t slow his speed.
“Hey, Jackson,” Luca’s voice rang out.
Avi and I were most of the way up the pond trail when Luca and Jackson appeared before us. Jackson’s copper-colored fur was frosted white.
“What are you two up to?” he asked with a twinkle directed at Avi.
“We went on a walk and then stopped to watch the pond,” Avi said, her voice suddenly young and happy.
Rarely was a serious tone shared between them. Something about her made him always sound happy, and something about him transformed her back into a little girl without a care in the world.
“Is it lunchtime?” Avi asked as she slipped an
arm into Luca’s waiting one.
“Yes, ma’am, and I’m starving,” he said, patting his stomach.
She giggled. “You’re always starving.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
“You eat enough for three growing boys,” Avi teased.
“These days I do,” he said, his tone slightly less carefree.
“How’s construction going?” I asked, aware that food was a sensitive subject for him.
“They have it framed,” Luca said.
“Roof too?” Avi asked.
“Roof too, and the exterior sheathing is supposed to be delivered later today.”
Avi said, “It’ll look like a house after that.”
I added, “You’ve gotten a lot done in not much time.”
“Gigi hired a good contractor. His team shows up,” Luca said.
“And every day they show up, you do too,” Avi said, proud of Luca. “And you work harder than any of them.”
“It’s right for me to do what I can,” Luca said. “Uncle Jace and Aunt Sam have their jobs. I’ve got nothing. I should be there helping rebuild their house.”
“Dad told us that Mr. Jones is going to offer you a job once your house is done,” Avi said, her voice excited.
“Really?” Luca said with surprise.
“That’s what Dad told us,” I answered.
Luca lifted his shoulders. “I’d like that. Mr. Jones is a good guy and so are the people who work for him.”
It was goodness that mattered more to Luca than anything else. Not how smart they were or how hard they worked. Were they good, honest, and kind? It said a lot about Mr. Jones and his team that Luca would want to work with them.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” Avi said, unlooping her arm and taking his hand as the trail widened.
“It would be nice to earn money, to pay my way,” he said with a clear feeling of hope.
“Things work out in the end,” Avi said, swinging their arms.
“Yes, I suppose they do. In one way or another,” he said more to himself than to us.
Jackson raced into our yard ahead of us.
“Wanna see a snow print of Siena?” Avi asked with a giggle.
Luca looked puzzled.
Avi started laughing harder as she pulled Luca toward the side of the house. “It’s fantastic. She was trying to dodge my snowball attack and fell into a snowbank. She made a perfect Siena print.”
“Avi, you don’t need to show him that,” I said, sounding more embarrassed than I actually was.
“Of course I do,” Avi said, stopping in front of the smooshed mound of snow.
Luca smiled broadly at the print. “You fell face first?” He chuckled.
“She had a stockpile of snowballs and she was throwing two at a time,” I playfully said to defend myself.
“And you tripped,” Avi said, making a goofy face.
“And then yes, I tripped.”
Luca’s smile deepened. “I wish I could’ve been here for that. It sounds like quite the epic battle.”
“Oh, it was!” Avi assured him, nodding her head vehemently.
Luca bent lower, studying the print. “Aww, look at her little nose. Oh hey, there are ear prints too.” He pointed, trying but failing not to laugh.
“All right, all right,” I said, pulling him up. “Dad already took a picture. Avi’s going to frame it. I’m sure she’ll give you a copy.”
Avi jumped up and down, clapping in delight. “The picture was perfect! She had snow stuck to her hair and everything.”
Luca laughed harder. “I can’t wait to see it. Maybe you can give me a framed copy too. It could be the first picture we put up in the new house.”
“Ha-ha,” I said, pretending to be irritated. But the thought of Luca wanting a picture of me, even a goofy snow print picture, made the day warmer.
“Good, you’re back,” Lisieux said as she appeared in front of us.
Avi asked, “Did you miss us?”
“Not particularly,” Lisieux said, turning and going back into the house.
“Then why were you looking for us?” Avi asked. She followed Lisieux into the house.
“Gigi made me.” Lisieux stripped off her coat and hung it up. The kitchen was warm with the fragrance of grilled bread.
“Are you sure you weren’t missing them even a little?” Luca said, with a wink at Lisieux.
“Oh fine, maybe a little, but mostly I wondered what they could be doing outside for so long,” Lisieux said.
It was remarkable how easily Luca was able to make her hard shell melt away.
“We went to the pond,” I said, slipping off my boots by the door to keep from tracking snow all over the kitchen.
“Then we ran into Luca on his way back for lunch, so we came home with him. Plus, my stomach was growling.” Avi had taken off her coat and was unknowingly flinging chunks of snow around her.
“Your timing is perfect,” Gigi said, using a spatula to remove some grilled cheese sandwiches from the pan.
“Where’s Dad?” Avi glanced in the direction of his office.
Gigi answered brightly, “He went to work for a few hours. He promised to be home in time for dinner. Enough about that. Who wants grilled cheese sandwiches? I put sliced apples on them, the way you three like, and I have some tomato soup to go along with them.”
“He said he was taking the day off,” Avi said, her depressed voice returning.
“He took yesterday off,” Gigi said. She handed Avi a plate with a hot sandwich on it.
Avi whined, “But he promised.” She took the plate and slumped into a chair beside Lisieux.
“It’s just for a few hours,” Lisieux said, putting an arm around Avi.
“He needed to go in. That’s the long and short of it,” Gigi said, leaving no room for discussion. “How was the pond?” she said, forcing her voice to sound carefree.
“Mostly frozen,” I answered.
“Yes, it’s only ever mostly frozen, no matter how frozen it may appear.” Whenever it was mentioned, Gigi used the same cautionary tone regarding the pond in wintertime.
The mistake made with me was not repeated with my sisters. Before they could walk, they’d been warned over and over again of the dangers of the pond. My sisters never had to learn that deadly truth for themselves—I was grateful I was the only one.
In the briefest of moments, my mind flicked to Thomas and then back again. I wondered what other dangers I was destined to learn the hard way.
Gigi returned to the table with a sandwich for herself and two extra ones for Luca. This was what happened every Monday through Friday, the days Luca worked with Mr. Jones.
Every day one of us made lunch. Typically it was Gigi, but sometimes it was Lisieux or me, and every day we made double or triple for Luca. This was a battle Gigi fought as soon as Luca began living with us and she got a good look at him. He wasn’t eating enough; that was all there was to it, she said. But he disagreed and spent the first week picking and nibbling at his food. Not because he didn’t want to eat; he didn’t want my dad or Gigi to have to pay for the food he was eating. After the first week, Gigi figured out how to put an end to it. She bought an obscene amount of groceries and said if he didn’t eat his fill, the food would go bad, and the money and food would be wasted. Luca finally gave in and began eating more. It was as if he had years of not eating to make up for. In the month since he started eating his fill, he’d gained probably fifteen pounds of needed weight. Now the clothes Gigi bought him when he first moved in, clothes that had hung off him, fit perfectly.
He didn’t like that she’d bought him clothes, either. Every time she did, he kept saying he was going to pay her back. He had even started a list of all the money he owed her. The same day she brought the groceries home, she said something to him. Neither told us what it was, but it must have been good because he threw away the list. He continued to eat plenty and gratefully wore the coat and boots she’d bought him, every day to work.
I wasn’t sure what would happen when his house was done and the three of them moved out of ours, but I had a feeling Gigi would continue to make sure he had lots of food as well as clothes and shoes that fit.
Gigi crossed herself and said the blessing, the rest of us bowing our heads and praying along. Even Luca now knew the words to the simple blessing of the food.
Each of us crossed ourselves again, then lifted our heads.
“How’s your house coming along?” Gigi asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.
Luca finished chewing. “Good. Exterior sheathing should be delivered when we get back from lunch.”
“Already?” she said.
Luca took a drink of water. “Yeah. Mr. Jones thinks we’ll have the outside walls mostly done by tomorrow. Then we can start with the siding, and electrical can get started on the inside.”
“When are the electricians scheduled to be out?” Gigi asked with interest.
“Middle of next week, I think,” Luca answered.
“Does Zacharia think building through the winter will be a problem?”
Luca took a drink of water. “He said unless it’s so cold he can’t get his truck started, he’ll be here.”
“There will be some of those days,” Gigi said.
“That’s what he said,” Luca responded, shivering at the thought. “That’s hard for me to imagine.”
Gigi laughed and said, “I’ve lived here most of my adult life and it remains hard for me to imagine. On those days we enjoy our fireplaces.”
Jackson stretched and went to the door leading to the garage. We listened to the sound of the metal garage door rolling up and back down again.
Jackson wagged his tail, waiting expectantly for whoever was home.
“Daddy!” Avi squealed, jumping from her seat and going to him as he came into the kitchen.
“Hi, sweetie,” he said, putting an arm around her.
“You look exhausted,” Lisieux said, sitting a little taller, a look of concern crossing her face.
Dad hung up his coat. “Long day.”
“You were barely gone two hours,” Lisieux responded.
Gifted (Awakening Book 2) Page 5