“You don’t have to yell,” said Miles. “I can hear you just fine. If you keep it up though, everyone on the hall will know we’ve got something we don’t want anyone to know.”
I started to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Miles said, rubbing my back as he hugged me. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to stress you out. I just—feel very conflicted, and unsettled.”
I kept crying. It was easier than talking about this.
Miles moved me over to the couch, and we sat down.
“You’ll end up dehydrated if you keep crying like this,” he finally said. He picked up a bottle of water sitting on the coffee table and handed it to me. I drank most of it. I needed to replenish those tears.
“Do you think you can keep crying forever?” Miles eventually asked.
“Well I can try!” I gulped.
Miles hugged me.
“If you don’t want to talk about this right now, that’s fine. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”
“I don’t want to talk about this, ever,” I said. Then, inexplicably, I insisted on talking about it. “I thought we agreed, Grandma Polly knew, and that was what mattered. It wouldn’t do good, and it would do harm for anyone else to know.”
Miles sighed.
“I know. But—I hate lying to our friends. Next to you, Xander is my best friend. Doesn’t it bother you to lie to Jenny?”
“Yes! It bothers me! I hate lying to my parents too, but I do it because the consequences of being totally truthful are unacceptable! I hate lying, and I feel like a terrible person doing it! But where does it end? If you tell Xander, then you will want to tell my parents, you know you will. Believe me, the kids will find out then. Do you think my little brother is going to keep quiet about his superhero big brother? The more people that know… it’s like a cancer, it’ll just take over, and everyone in the whole world will know! And then you won’t be safe, and I’ll lose you!”
I was starting to feel hysterical.
“It’s okay, come here,” said Miles, hugging me tightly. “It’s all right, it’s okay.”
I cried for a while longer.
“Let’s put aside the idea of telling our friends,” said Miles. “Let’s focus on what you’re afraid of most.”
I wiped my eyes with the tissue Miles handed me.
“I’m afraid of losing you,” I said.
“Okay. Let’s address that, then. What do you think could happen to me?”
“Well—someone could take you away. Try and study you, or do experiments on you.”
“How? No one could legally do that. And have you forgotten what I’m capable of? No one could take me anywhere I didn’t want to go, or contain me against my will. You have seen what I can do, right?”
I sighed.
“Yeah. I have.” I took a deep breath and let it out.
“Okay. So… that’s something you don’t need to worry about. That’s what you did a lot of last year, before we knew I still had these abilities. You nearly got yourself into trouble more than once, trying to protect me. You had me so worried, never knowing what you were getting yourself into at night… why do you think I sleep with my arms around you?”
“Well I thought maybe it was because you like me,” I said.
Miles laughed.
“I do. I also want to know about it if you decide to get up. You traumatized me, because you worried about me and put yourself in danger trying to protect me, all year. You didn’t need to protect me then—although, fine, you did keep me from getting shot. But aside from that, you didn’t need to protect me. And you sure don’t need to now.”
I had to think about all that.
“Okay… I just want us to have a normal life, though,” I said.
“I’m afraid we need to accept that we will never have a normal life. Are you forgetting who can see darkness hovering over murderers? And you’re determined to go into the classroom with the worst you’ve ever seen, and prove him guilty. I know I’m not being exactly fair, you feel you need to do that, and I do support you. Neither one of us is exactly normal though… and this may not be the last murderer you ever see, and I feel certain you’ll feel the need to find the evidence to put the next one away, too. So… I think we need to give up on having what’s normal for everyone else, and find our own normal. Whatever that is.”
“And… I guess we’ve got that island we can go to, if things get too difficult,” I said.
“I can hire a contractor to start building our fortress there, if it makes you feel better.”
I laughed. He probably would.
“Hey, you haven’t forgotten how to laugh after all!” said Miles, which made me laugh again.
“No, I didn’t completely forget how,” I said. “I know this will sound crazy, but what you said about never having a normal life and finding our own normal, made me feel better. I know you’re right, we aren’t exactly normal people, or a normal couple, and… accepting that instead of desperately wanting to fit square pegs into a round hole, is kind of freeing.”
“Good. I guess it is for me, too. And now, please, let’s go to bed. I’ve been up since the crack of dawn, I had a very difficult day, and I’m exhausted. It’s already two o’ clock in the morning, did you know that?”
“Oh my goodness, I did not know that!” I stood and pulled Miles up with me. “I’m sorry I kept you up so late.”
“It’s okay. I know you were scared, and stressed out, and it was worth it to be able to talk about things, since it helped you feel better. But no more talking. I’ll fall asleep right here and be accused of being insensitive, otherwise.”
“Okay,” I said. “No more talking.”
But after I turned out the light on my nightstand and Miles wrapped his arms around me as he always did before falling asleep, I knew… the conversation we started earlier in the evening wasn’t over. We’d be talking about it again. And like it or not, in the end, I knew… our friends would learn the truth.
I decided to pull a Scarlett O’Hara, and think about that tomorrow.
Chapter 5
I woke up. Something didn’t feel right. I carefully wriggled out from under the two gray cats who were piled on top of me, and realized that Miles was gone. So were Chip and Trixie.
I felt bad about keeping Miles up so late and then after all that, my poor husband had to get up and take the dogs out. I took a shower and got dressed, then went to the kitchen. The least I could do was make him breakfast.
I put strips of bacon in a baking dish and slid it into the oven. Then I searched the cookbook Mom gave me—probably concerned Miles would starve, otherwise—and found the pancake recipe. I mixed the batter and ladled the first batch onto the hot griddle, when I heard the door open, the jingle of Miles’ keys, and two happy dogs running into the apartment.
“Hi!” I said, meeting Miles at the door.
“Hi, back,” said Miles, as I hugged and kissed him. “It smells great in here, what are you making?”
“Pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Oh! I better go flip them!”
I whirled around and returned to the kitchen, anxious about those pancakes. I was new to this domestic business, and didn’t think burning Miles’ breakfast would contribute to it being blissful.
“Oh, good, they’re fine,” I said, seeing the bubbles beginning to rise on the tops of the pancakes. They were just right for flipping, so I flipped them.
“Did you get much sleep?” I asked, as I turned and hugged Miles again. He had followed me into the kitchen.
“I got enough,” Miles said. “How about you?”
“I’m sort of tired, I’m glad classes don’t start until next week.”
“Me too,” Miles said, as I turned back to the pancakes and used a spatula to move them to the plate that I put underneath the griddle to warm. I ladled more batter onto the griddle and poured the scrambled eggs into the pan that was waiting for them on the stove.
“Well look at you,” said Miles. “I would’ve never known yo
u weren’t in the habit of doing this every day, if you hadn’t told me.”
I smiled. I appreciated his appreciation.
“Thank you,” I said, as I took the baking dish out of the oven, quickly moving the bacon slices to a paper towel covered plate.
I turned back to the second batch of pancakes and flipped them, as Miles poured two glasses of orange juice.
“How did Chip and Trixie like their walk?” I asked, as I stirred the eggs.
“We went to the dog park,” said Miles.
“I’m so sorry for keeping you up late,” I apologized. “No wonder you went to the dog park instead of going for a run.”
“It’s okay, but I admit I’m hoping for a lot more sleep tonight.”
“You’ll get it,” I promised. “I won’t keep you up like that, two nights in a row.”
I added the second batch of pancakes to the plate, and removed the eggs from the stove.
“I won’t say I’m disappointed to hear that,” Miles said, taking the plates of food from me as I filled them. He set them on the table, then pulled out my chair for me.
As Miles prayed and gave thanks for our food, a thought suddenly occurred to me. I sat and watched him for a second after the prayer was over, thinking.
“What is it?” he asked. “You’re being uncharacteristically quiet and motionless.”
I slowly began to butter my pancakes and added syrup.
“Well, I was just thinking.”
“About?” asked Miles, taking a bite of pancakes. “This is exceptional, by the way.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking a bite also. It was good. I’d have to thank Mom again for that cookbook she put together for me.
“So, you were thinking…?” Miles prompted me.
“I was just thinking that we don’t like lying to our friends.”
Miles waited for me to finish my point.
“If we tell our friends, or my family, or anyone, we’ll be forcing them to lie, too.”
Miles paused to think about that.
“You’re right. I never thought about it that way,” he said. Miles continued to eat slowly, lost in thought. “I’m glad you realized that. I wouldn’t want to do that to them.”
I felt relieved, and guilty for feeling that way. Miles would still have that weight himself, every time the subject of his past came up with our friends.
“Maybe the subject of your past won’t come up again, after last night,” I said hopefully.
“Maybe not,” agreed Miles, “although it was my own fault that it did.”
“Okay, well that, you’ll have to work on. But if anyone else mentions it, we can both burst into tears, and then we won’t have to answer questions.”
Miles laughed.
“That would guarantee people would be very sure to steer clear of the subject.”
I laughed too, the thought was funny, and it was good to see him laughing.
“Well how about this,” I said. “Memorize the phrases ‘I don’t have any memory of that,’ ‘I don’t like to talk about that,’ ‘I get confused sometimes.’ All of those things are true.”
Miles laughed again.
“Trust the master of redirection to come up with a way to support a lie, by telling the truth.”
“Thank you… I guess?” I said, and Miles laughed and shook his head.
“It’s always been a source of fascination to me the way you manage to do that, and so effortlessly,” he said.
“Oh, really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, really,” Miles said, smiling. “It was just one of the many things about you that fascinated me, and made me want to know you more. You’re unlike anyone I have ever met or observed, over the years.”
“In a good way?” I asked, deciding he was probably complimenting me as much as teasing me, and I wanted more of the complimenting part.
“In the best possible way,” he said, that soft look in his eyes as he leaned over and kissed me. “But don’t try any of your redirecting magic on me, Anika Riley Bannerman. I’ve got you figured out.”
I laughed, as I stood and carried my plate to the dishwasher, and began to clean the kitchen.
“I’m finished too,” Miles said. “I’ll help you.”
“Do you have anything you want to do today?” I asked, as I put the griddle in the large sink, and wiped the surface with a soapy sponge.
“I’d like to do more research on Professor Mead,” said Miles.
“Okay, that’s a good idea,” I agreed. “Let’s do that.”
It didn’t take long before the kitchen was back in order, and we adjourned to the living room. Miles got out his laptop, and I turned the TV on. One of our favorite movies was playing, so I turned the volume down low, then sat next to Miles on the couch with a notebook and pen, prepared to record anything of interest.
“I hope Xander’s cousin is able to find something more to go on,” said Miles, scanning search results. “I hope she’s careful, too.”
“No kidding. Are you finding anything out about the charges that were dropped?”
“Nothing,” said Miles. “I’ll call our PI today and get him working on it. We need someone with resources other than the internet, because my searches aren’t turning up anything.”
“Look up Ryan Mead’s grandmother,” I said suddenly. “In his parents’ obituaries she was the only other surviving relative. She was probably his guardian after his parents died, like Polly and Second-Miles.”
“Okay, I’ll do that,” said Miles, double-checking the name in the obituaries and entering it in the search engine. “She’s listed in this people search… her address is local. Not here, local, but in Seattle, where Ryan Mead lived with his parents and went to high school.”
I wrote that on the notepad as Miles scanned more searches.
“There’s an obituary for her, too,” said Miles. “She died after he graduated high school and before he entered college. He’s listed as her sole survivor.”
We mulled that over as Miles continued to search.
“We definitely need our PI involved in this,” said Miles. “I can’t find the information I really need. I’d like to know if there was anything suspicious about her death. There’s nothing online, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing.”
Miles took his iPhone out of his pocket, and dialed. Jackson answered, and Miles gave him all of the information we had. Well… not about the darkness that I could sense around Professor Mead, but everything else. The rumors, and his unwelcome attention towards me, and how that concerned Miles. It concerned me too, but Miles was the one on the phone. He told the PI we’d like to know about any missing persons or unsolved murders anywhere near the vicinity of where Ryan Mead lived since high school, as well as details on the charges that were dropped.
“He’ll start looking in to it right now,” said Miles, as he ended the call and returned his iPhone to his pocket. “I feel good about that, much better than if we were trying to do this all on our own.”
“Me too,” I said, setting down the notebook. “Does that mean we’re done searching?”
“I’d say so. We have more important things to do. The PI is going to find out who his friends were since high school, teachers, employers, his parents’ friends, and work up a profile on him.”
“That’ll be helpful,” I said.
“I’m hoping the more you know, the more you’ll be able to interpret that sense of darkness surrounding him.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Probably you’ve always had this ability to sense things the rest of us can’t. It’s just in very recent history that you’ve started encountering murderers. You’ve had very little opportunity to explore exactly what it is that you’re capable of.”
I thought about that as Miles set aside his laptop and leaned back, putting his arm around me.
“Much as I don’t like the idea of you being anywhere near this guy, taking his class is an opportunity to learn more abou
t your ability.”
“So… I should focus on what I’m sensing, and see if there’s more to it than darkness.”
“Right. Do you hear or see anything, images, names, places, for example. Stay aware for whatever your senses can pick up.”
I shivered, and scooted as close to Miles as I could get without knocking him right off the couch.
“This is just—so creepy,” I said. “Your powers are way cooler than mine.”
Miles laughed softly, and hugged me.
“You’ve got this ability for a reason. It may not seem cool, but it’s important, or you wouldn’t have it.”
“Wow. You’ve got a totally different attitude toward this than you did,” I said.
“I wouldn’t be much help to you if I said ‘go for it’, then tried to hold you back, and didn’t fully support and encourage you.”
“It means everything to me, that you do support and encourage me.”
“You can always count on me for that,” he said. “Unless you do something crazy, and without my knowledge, something that has the possibility of getting you hurt, or worse. If you do that, then you can count on a quick one-way trip to that island fortress that’s currently under construction.”
“Deal,” I said, laughing. I was pretty sure he was joking about the fortress, he couldn’t have had time to hire a contractor for that yet. “Nothing crazy, secretive or prone to injury.”
“Good,” said Miles.
We watched the movie in silence for several minutes.
“Until you came along, Spiderman was my favorite superhero,” I said.
“Oh, really? So who’s your favorite now?” Miles asked, a teasing look in his eyes.
“That’s fishing for a compliment, if I ever heard of one!” I laughed. “You, of course. Your abilities are absolutely amazing, what you’ve learned to do in the past three months is—well—amazing. You put others before yourself, you’re good through and through, you’re kind to small animals and children, you have no kryptonite, and you are absolutely, drop-dead, painfully gorgeous. Which is probably why you can melt with a single glance.”
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