by EJ Everette
“And Gray,” she adds, “Grayelle. As Gia will always be a part of her people, you too are one of us. Maybe not in blood, but in spirit. Blessings my child. Your life is so much more than you can imagine. Good night, princess.” She hangs up before I can dig any further into that mess.
Setting the phone down, I turn to a very anxious Leanne.
“I am tired. It’s late, and honestly I just can’t deal with any more of this today. Can we go to bed now? We can look through the photo album later. I promise.”
She is already gathering everything up, placing it neatly back into the large box, before I finish. She reaches for the lid to place it on top, but stops to grab the small wooden box, extending it out to me.
“We can,” she says, “but I think you need to open this, first.”
I turn the box over and over in my hands. It feels old. Ancient, really, though you can’t tell by the look of it. Something is coming from it, though. Something I can’t quite explain but it feels familiar. In the front, along the lid, is what appears to be a lock of sorts, though there is no place for a keyhole. Leanne stands up next to me, pointing at the area.
“The note I found said you must take the warmth from the box to open it. Whatever that means. There weren’t any other instructions so you’re on your own with that one. I just figured it was important.”
Take the warmth? How am I supposed to do that, exactly? Hmm, I don’t know Gray. Maybe, you know, if you had some superhero powers or whatever we are going to call them, you could use those. Oh, wait! You do! Too bad the only people who know how to use them are the guys you sent away because you needed to have your fit and fall in it.
Ugh. Sometimes subconscious me is a total bitch. Especially when she is right.
I hold my hand over the lock, closing my eyes and trying to pull on whatever there is inside of me that makes me the all powerful goddess the guys say I am. That Mom says I am. Thinking about Mom, images flash around in my mind. Just like the night of the fire, I see things like they are happening right in front of me.
Mom. I see her when she was very young. Maybe a teenager. She is running around in fields that are so green and bright they don’t even look real. She is laughing and running from an older man who is also laughing as he chases her though he carries a large sword in his hands. I look back at Mom and she, too, has a sword. This time, she stops running and turns to face the man. Their swords clash together as they spar, excitement in their eyes. I can feel the joy in my mother as she swings her sword in a great arch before bringing it down, hard.
Suddenly the sword she is fighting against is held by a creature, not the happy old man. The creature is dark, almost like a shadow, with ridges and jagged edges across his entire body. He wears no clothing but his form is not like a man. He is nearly transparent in some places but his teeth, all three sets of them, look far from ghost-like. Mom screams and charges the creature who is much stronger than it looks.
The scene changes again and I see my Mom, older this time though maybe just in her early twenties, sitting behind a mirror in a massive bedroom with beautiful silver and white decorations. She looks sad, her eyes cast down. Her hand rests on her belly and it looks as though she has just the slightest little bump. Her eyes return to the mirror and for just a second I think she is looking directly at me before she stands and crosses the room. She pulls a curtain back from an ancient armoire next to her bed, another mirror appearing, though this one moves like water flows across it. She looks around before stepping through the mirror, the wave-like movement smoothing out once she is gone.
Mom is running through an alley, though I can’t tell where. She turns a corner and the alley opens into a beautiful field which looks strange in that location. In the field stand a group of women, most about her age, dressed in flowing gowns and adorned in flowers. The picture! Mom walks right up to Grams, the younger version of her, and they embrace as if they have met before. Grams sets her hand on Mom’s belly, rubbing it while smiling up and saying something that makes Mom smile as well.
I can’t understand what either of them are saying, but I can make out one word that they both repeat over and over as they rub their hands along where I am growing inside Mom’s womb.
Love.
The images fade away as quickly as they came and I find myself staring, once again, at the giant turtles on Leanne’s bedroom walls. Suddenly, I can feel heat coming from the box beneath my hand. Sure enough, small bluish flames move from the seal of the box to my right palm, completely encompassing my hand. Leanne shrieks in fear, but I feel no pain, only warmth. The box changes color, from a deep dark brown to a light charcoal color. As the last few flames make their way to my hand, I feel all of the heat drain from the box, and the lid snaps open.
Leanne, cautiously, approaches to look inside the box with me. I need to figure out what the hell just happened, but right now all I can do is stare inside the hollowed out box. It is now cold to the touch, almost to the point of uncomfortableness in my left hand. Inside, there is only blackness save for one small trinket. I reach inside, pulling the piece out to inspect, and set the cold box on the bed behind me.
“It’s… it’s a ring. I mean, it’s pretty, gorgeous really, but it’s just a ring.” She sounds so disappointed, but she doesn’t feel what I feel. She can’t sense the extreme power coming from the jewelry. It really is simple, woven silver bands with a small yellow stone set in the center. Something is familiar about it, though I can't quite figure out what.
“Well, stop staring at it like it’s going to explode or have your babies and put the thing on! See if it fits. If it’s too small, I call dibs.” Leanne’s eyes are wide as she stares at the ring. She may not be able to feel the power coming from it, but even she can tell there is something about it.
I slip it on my right hand, the fit is perfect. I don’t know why, but I put it on my middle finger of all places. It looks perfect there, and once it’s situated, the intensity of the power I felt from it dies down. Huh. I guess I was kind of hoping for some Green Lantern sort of stuff to go down, but it just sits on my finger like any old ring, nothing special happens, and after a minute of staring at it in anticipation, Leanne and I both shrug.
“Man, I thought for sure you were like the heart from Captain Planet or some mess.”
“Ha! Right,” I say, spinning the ring around a bit. Still, nothing special happens, everything I was sensing before is now gone. “I was thinking more along the lines of Green Lantern, but same.”
“Oooh, sexy Ryan Reynolds in that bodysuit. Yes please!” We both giggle about our enormous infatuation with the delectable Mr. Reynolds, before the exhaustion is more than I can take and I suggest we call it a night. Climbing into bed with Le, I try to push away everything that’s happened today. One good night of rest and one more normal day tomorrow. Then I can deal with whatever all of this means and what happens next.
Drifting off to sleep, my mind runs through images as my left hand plays with the new ring on my right middle finger. None of them really make sense until one single image repeats itself enough that I focus on it. It’s an image of a girl, a beautiful angel with large white wings spread behind her, her black hair flowing loose around her body, her hands together, raised and glowing. On her right hand, is my ring. The ring from the box that I just put on. I focus more on the angel, her eyes big and blue just like mine. Oh my god, she is me. I am the angel.
And the image is the exact same one that takes up most of Dean’s side and chest. The tattoo of the girl who holds his heart, his destiny. His angel.
Well, damn. I didn’t see that one coming.
13
Gray
Finn’s house is smaller than Leanne’s but it is every bit as homey. The front yard has a few trees, each with a small flower bed wrapped around their base. The flowers there range from brightly colored to sweet pastels, all adding to the beauty of the home. The house itself is a one-story brick home with dark green shutters lining the windows. A pret
ty white porch shows evidence of some work as new, unpainted boards can be seen in places where the porch has worn down and needed repair. It is not difficult to imagine Finn, shirt off and jeans riding low on his waist, bent over and sweating as he hammers new boards into the deck. All the little butterflies in my stomach start doing Olympic-worthy gymnastics moves at the thought. Of course, the best way to pull me from a fantasy about my sexy boyfriend is for him to walk up to me with his mother beside him. Gah! Ditch the fantasies until later, Gray.
“This is her,” Finn says proudly, a grin that could stop my heart plastered for all to see across his handsome face. He gestures toward me, “This is my Gray, Mom.”
The woman before me is, well, beautiful doesn’t seem like the right word. She has shoulder length brown hair with golden highlights that remind me of her son. Her eyes are more grey than his, but honestly Finn is the spitting image of his gorgeous mother. She looks to be in her mid-thirties though I suspect she is older with a nearly eighteen year old son. Her lips aren’t quite as full as Finn’s though they fit perfectly on her small face, her chin coming to a point beneath them. Her eyes search mine, likely assessing me the same way I am her, though my cheeks color with embarrassment at getting caught checking my boyfriend’s mom out. I need to say something.
“Um, hi,” I mumble. Ooof. This is harder than it looks. I straighten my back some and clear my throat to try again. “Hello. It’s so nice to officially meet you. Your home looks lovely.” Wow. That was so much better. Go me!
She extends her hand to shake mine, and I oblige though touching people still makes me uncomfortable. Still, she took really good care of Tanner and even me, though we never spoke then, so I know she is a kind person.
“The pleasure is mine, Gray. It is very good to see you up and moving. Your color has certainly returned.” She smiles at me and winks, indicating she caught my blush before I could hide it. Her voice sounds so reassuring and it makes even more sense to me why she is such a good nurse. I bet the patients just love to listen to her, trusting her right away. I know I do.
“Please come on in. Tanner has been so excited to see you, though nowhere near as over-the-top as this one,” she jabs her thumb in Finn’s direction. “He has cleaned the house at least four times today alone and had to approve the girls’ outfits.” She is laughing but, when I turn to address my sweet boyfriend, he looks far from amused.
“Mom, seriously? How are you going to rat me out like that?” He is glaring at her but there is humor in his eyes. They look as if they are sharing some inside joke and my heart pulls a bit at the intimate moment. Seeing Finn with his Mom, someone he clearly loves beyond words, feels so good. Don’t mind me. I’m just over here falling a little more in the love category for this guy.
Ms. Doyle laughs at his attempt at frustration, leading us into the home. It smells like a combination of fresh baked bread and lemon. The latter, I believe, is from the cleaning she had mentioned. We walk directly into a foyer, a hall stretched out before us with openings on either side. I follow Finn and his Mom down the hall, turning right into the first large room. A mixture of greens and browns fill the space I assume to be their living room area. There is one small couch, a loveseat Grams called them, and a large full-size couch centered around an entertainment center of sorts with a decent size tv currently showing reruns of America’s Next Top Model. Ah, Tanner must be in here. Sure enough, my eyes scan over to see him in a small recliner pulled back to the side, though still within view of the television. His wheelchair is in the corner beside him, his eyes glued to Tyra and whoever she is trying to educate on modeling at the moment.
“Look who I found wandering around outside,” Finn says, startling my entranced friend. His eyes dart over in our direction. When he sees me his smile is instant, his arms immediately lifting up for a hug. Happy to oblige, I walk the few steps over to him and try my best not to hurt him as we embrace.
“Now I know why you ditched your folks and moved in with Finn,” I joke as I pull away from our epic hug. Even broken and healing we still know how to hug like the best of them. Finn snickers but pulls me away from Tanner, leading me to the little loveseat where I can still see my friend to talk.
“On that note, I will go finish up the stuff in the kitchen before I have to head out for work. Gray, dear, it was lovely to finally get to see you outside of the hospital. You are welcome here anytime. I apologize for running out, but work calls.” She waves her fingers in my direction, joy fully evident in her facial expression as she takes in Finn and I sitting together.
“It was nice to meet you, too, Ms. Doyle,” I say but she pulls her hand up to stop me before I can continue.
“Now we will have none of that. You can call me Peg. They all do anyway. I’d like to at least pretend like I am still young for as long as I can.”
“Thank you, Peg, for having me over. And thank you for letting Tan stay here. You don’t know what it means to me to know that he is safe and cared for.” My eyes feel like they might water up so I clench my fist to keep any tears from falling. This woman has no idea how much of an angel she is for taking in my friend. I promise to find a way to repay her generosity one day. Maybe I can like, buy her a house or something. Or give her a bunch of money so she doesn’t have to work so much. I mean, I am some sort of princess, right? I must have riches or something somewhere.
“Please, this boy is a pleasure. Frankly, I owe him! He keeps Finn busy and the girls adore him. He is family now, for sure. You kids have a good time and make sure the girls get to bed by nine. No arguments.” She directs the last part at Finn who nods his head in acknowledgment. She heads out of the room and within a few minutes I hear the front door close and her car start in the driveway.
“So…,” I say into the quiet room. Tanner is back to watching his show and Finn seems content to just snuggle with me, holding me tight against his side. Don’t get me wrong, I like the feeling more than I thought I would, but I feel antsy, too.
“So, how are things at Leanne’s going?” Finn turns a bit so he is looking at me and I take that moment to twist, gently, out of his arms to face him on the seat. He looks disappointed for a moment but quickly steals his features, looking for me to answer his question.
“Pretty good so far. Mrs. S is great, as always. Leanne and I are basically having one big sleepover so that’s fun. A lot like you guys,” I look back and forth between my bestie and my boyfriend. Their brotherly bond happened out of nowhere but I am beyond grateful for it. Tanner needed someone in his corner. It should have been me, but obviously my life is a complete mess so Finn coming around when he did was a god send.
“Have you heard from the guys lately,” Finn looks at me, sheepishly. I think I see some jealousy there, but he is trying really hard to keep it in check. It’s cute. Mostly. The last time his jealousy showed he made an ass of himself, though.
“They stopped by a bit after you guys left the day I came home. Haven’t really talked to them since then.” I answer, nonchalantly. I don’t want to think about the guys right now. Even the mention of them awakens something inside of me and my mind instinctively reaches out to find them. I can feel their distance, though I know Chance is somewhere nearby. Must be his day to babysit again. Of course, why he even gives a shit is beyond me, since he loathes my existence most days. Damnit! There I go thinking about them again!
“Well, that’s cool,” Finn shrugs, completely oblivious to the battle in my mind right now. “Hey, do you want to meet the girls now? I made them wait so you wouldn’t be so overwhelmed, but they’ve been driving me fucking nuts about you coming over.” He rolls his eyes like he is annoyed by them but, yet again, I see the compassion and love he has for his family. He isn’t fooling anyone.
I sit up, a smile already on my face at the thought of meeting his sisters, and nod my head enthusiastically. Finn matches my smile before shaking his head a bit and glancing over at Tanner.
“She has no idea what she is getting herself into, does
she T-Man?” They both chuckle at my expense before Finn stands to walk out of the room. There is another doorway behind us I assume leads to the rest of the house. Did he lock them in their bedrooms or something? Unease hits hard in my chest at the thought, but I push it away. This is not my old life. Finn would never do that to his sisters. He would never do it to me. No one will trap me like that again. Breathe, Gray. Focus.
“Jes-s-s-sus, Gray,” Tanner finally speaks up. I raise my eyes to meet his, seeing concern for me written on his face. “You lo-o-ook s-s-scared for r-r-real.” His speech has improved so much in such a short time, despite the still present stutter, and that brings me back. Tanner is moving leaps and bounds in his recovery because of Finn. Because Finn has dedicated his summer break, when he could be out on the beach and enjoying life like every other teenager in the world, to staying with Tanner and helping him through all of this all while juggling his summer school work load. A guy he barely knew until just a few weeks ago, really. That is not the kind of person who would hurt me or anyone else.
Welcome to trauma. The unexplainable, random, bitch of an animal that creeps up and bites the hell out of you when you least expect it.
I roll my eyes at Tan but can’t get a word in before the cutest little girl runs into the room in a flash. She plops down in Finn’s spot, a small stuffed bunny in her arms, and smiles up at me like we are already the best of friends and she couldn’t wait to see me. It’s contagious and adorable as hell, so I smile back at her.
“Why, hello there,” I say to my new couch partner. “My name is Gray. What’s yours?”
Little Miss Pigtails places her tiny little hands in her lap, their pale coloring a stark contrast to the dark blue and purple of her dress.
“My name is Nanette Marie Doyle,” she says matter of factly. “And you are Gray and you are dating my brother so you guys kiss sometimes.” She covers her mouth when she giggles but, unprepared for her frankness, I fail to do the same when I openly laugh at her statement.