* * *
"Do you need any help putting this away?" Gavin said as he dumped a load of bags on my bed.
"No, thank you," I said, shaking my head.
"Okay, I'll go check messages and make a snack. Then maybe we can watch a movie?"
"Sure that sounds good,” I said.
Gavin frowned.
I acted very agreeable since he'd gotten mad at me. Standard technique to defuse angry adults: be extra good and agreeable until punishment is decided. It tends to lessen the consequences.
Scowling, I looked at the bed covered in bags. I had no idea where I was going to put everything. Oh, well, one thing at a time. I picked up the garment bag and hung it in the back of the closet, hoping I would never have to wear the fancy black dress inside. It was simple, no frills or flowers on it, but still a dress. One by one, I emptied the bags and sorted all the clothes into piles to be washed. New clothes were itchy, smelled weird, and other people touched them. Shoes went into the closet - I now owned two pairs of Converse, one classic black and a pair with green and purple checks, both high tops, of course. Gavin insisted on dressier shoes, and while I unpacked the black Mary Jane flats, the high heels that went with the dress were shoved into the back of the closet still in the box.
"Sapphire, I need to go downstairs for a minute. Mr. Lindsey has a package for me."
"Okay." Once I sorted all the clothes, I unpacked the computer and phone and plugged them in to charge.
It didn't take long to finish plugging everything in and throw away all the trash. I put my clothes in the washer off the kitchen when Gavin came back into the apartment holding a large box.
"All done?" he asked with a groan as he slipped through the doorway.
"Yes, everything is unpacked, charging, trash thrown away, and I'm going to start my laundry now," I answered.
"Wow, you're good." Gavin kicked the door shut. "When you're done, will you come into the TV room I have something I want to show you."
"Sure, no problem. Oh, did you ever see the video from when that nasty man came?" I forgot all about him going into the antique shop until right now.
"Yes, but unfortunately we didn't get a good look at his face, and even Mr. Lindsey can't remember what he looked like," Gavin explained as he went down the hall.
"Weird, I'll be there in a minute." Gavin didn't seem mad. Maybe I wasn't in trouble.
On the coffee table lay four large photo albums, a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and two glasses of milk.
"I asked my house manager back in New York to pack up and send me several family photo albums. I realized that you hadn't gotten to see any pictures of your mom yet," Gavin said, running his hand through his hair nervously.
My hands shook. "Thank you. I hadn't thought about it, but it would be nice to know what my parents looked like," I said, sitting down near him. No one ever hands over a photo album. They always show it to you, which means sitting close so you can both see it.
"These are my parents, your grandparents," Gavin began, opening the first album. It looked like a fairy-tale wedding. My grandmother wore a long white gown with flowers and lace, and my grandfather stood proudly next to her in a tuxedo.
"They were lovely," I whispered.
"They were. I lost them a few years after your mom disappeared. They died in a plane crash. They loved you so much."
Page by page I got to see the life I should have lived. I got to see my mom and Gavin as children, opening Christmas gifts, acting in school plays, and going on family vacations.
"When your mom was five, she decided to join the swim team and said she wanted to play the violin. She did both all through school and still swam and played the last time I saw her." Gavin smiled fondly at a picture of a little girl holding up a third place ribbon, her straight brown hair cut into a neat bob.
"I, on the other hand, took different classes all the time. When I was in college a friend talked me into taking a stilt-walking class, and I fell in love with the circus."
School photos followed the others. Both Gavin and my mom had gone to a private school, at least that's what I guessed based on the navy blue blazers they wore in every school photo.
"I was twelve in this photo and your mom fifteen. We were on vacation in Greece. You look a lot like her."
Gently, I reached out and ran my finger over the picture. Both of them were smiling brightly, their arms wrapped around each other, in front of a clear blue ocean and ancient white pillars. My mom's hair was black then, and Gavin's hair brown.
"Our family has bad luck with pictures," I said pointing to a picture of white Greek columns with two white people-shaped blobs in the corner. A bunch of photos contained over-exposed people in them.
"Well, that is one of the protections the jewelry offers us," Gavin explained. “The Akashic energy makes magical beings that want to hurt us forget who we are and messes with cameras."
"Unless they see the fire in your eyes." I shivered thinking of the walk-ins.
"Yes, true." Gavin paused. "If you want to have your picture taken you need to take all of your jewelry off. Sometimes people would forget or don’t realize that there is a photo being taken."
I touch the cool pendant laying at the base of my throat. Would it protect me right now while my power lay cold and hidden in my belly? I shoved the thoughts down and turned my focus back to the photo album.
Before my eyes, they grew up, going from awkward teens to beautiful young adults. Their hair, skin, and eyes changed as mine had.
"This was taken right before your mom went off to college," Gavin said. They looked perfect, wearing expensive tasteful clothing, and smiling as if nothing bad ever touched them. Would my life have been like that? Would I have younger siblings? Would we have taken pictures together?
I wanted to cry for what I lost. "It's a wonderful picture."
"There's more," Gavin said, his voice raspy.
Opening up the last album I saw my grandparents, Gavin, and my mom sitting around a Christmas tree, and joining them sat a young man with blond hair, golden eyes and pearl white skin. He leaned close to my mom, his hand clasping one of hers.
"Oh, my god," I choked out. So far I held in the tears that threatened at the very first picture, but seeing my dad with my mom was too much. A dizzy rush of déjà vu brought flashes of memories. Licking an ice cream cone with my dad. Playing with the big zipper of Grandfather’s sweater. Baking cookies with Mom and Grandma. I knew these people. I had memories, happy memories, of my family.
"The moment Keagan walked in the door, I knew they would be together forever. They loved each other so much." Gavin wrapped an arm around my shoulders. At first I sat stiffly, then gave in and leaned against my uncle while tears fell down my checks.
They held a fancy engagement party; my mom wore an ice blue evening gown and my dad a soft gray suit. Next, their wedding photos. They looked a lot like my grandparents' pictures, a fairy-tale wedding with a huge cake, lacy white dress, and so much happiness. Everyone in that room looked so happy for them.
"These are your paternal grandparents," Gavin said pointing to a lovely couple with snow-white hair. "They were older when they had Keagan, and passed away a year after you were born." They had kind smiles and I wondered what kind of grandparents they would have been. They looked like movie grandparents, all soft and cuddly. The kind of grandparents who would read you stories, bake cookies, and teach you how to fish.
After a few more pages came a photo of my mom in bed looking tired but happy, and holding a newborn baby. My father sat behind her with tears in his eyes. My hand shook as I reached out to touch the picture. I turned into Gavin's shoulder and cried.
"I miss them," Gavin said, as he held me. "They were my best friends. They loved you so much. I wish you could remember them."
I nodded. “I’m starting to remember them. Thank you.”
Gavin gave me a framed portrait of me with my parents. I placed it next to my bed that night where I could see it. M
y head ached from crying so much. Sticking out from under the bed was a bit of the backpack my mom left with me. The scrapbook from Melanie, the jewelry from Akasha, and my mom's journal were safely tucked inside.
I sat on the floor with a thump. I hadn't shared the journal with Gavin. I said I would, but I couldn't part with it, but now, after seeing the photo albums I needed to.
Reaching into the flowered bag, I pulled out the most important thing I owned and cradled the worn journal to my chest. I walked back into the family room where Gavin sat staring at the TV without seeing it.
"Gavin, I wanted to show you..." I held out the journal.
He turned off the TV, then took it from me and opened the cover.
"She started this when she became pregnant with you. She panicked one day, afraid she would be a horrible mom and forget to teach you all sorts of important things," Gavin whispered as he read the first page. "Thank you. I wasn't sure if you would ever feel comfortable sharing it with me."
"I didn't mean to keep it from you, it's just I've never shared it with anyone before," I said, twisting the hem of my pajama sleeve.
"Do you want to sit with me while I read it? Then I can give it right back."
I wanted to say yes, but I didn't like being that weak. "No, that's okay, I trust you."
"I will take very good care of it," Gavin said. "If you change your mind I'll be right here."
"Thanks, goodnight."
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
I finally drifted off to sleep when my door creaked open. Gavin placed my mom's journal on the nightstand next to her photo. Reaching down, he tugged the covers up over my shoulder. "I wish I could promise you nothing but happiness. I know the next few years will be hard, but I promise, Sapphire, I will be there right next to you every step of the way."
Phoenix Child Page 56