Forever, Again

by Victoria Laurie

  “Okay,” I said. “That makes sense.”

  “Excellent.” Dr. Van Dean rose to his feet, and the rest of us stood up, too. He surprised me then by taking my hand and saying, “As I suggested, start off by visiting Amber Greeley’s grave. Take her some flowers. Show her that you honor her, and perhaps that will be the end of the disruptions she’s bringing to your sleep. If not, come back to me in two weeks, and in the meantime, think about seeing a therapist to talk about the challenges currently affecting you.”

  Turning to Cole, he added, “And as for you, young man, I would very much like to talk to you again, too. Would you consider coming back to discuss your uncle?”

  “Sure,” Cole said, and I could see that he was excited by the idea.

  It so surprised me how cool he was with this whole concept of reincarnation. Tanner would’ve laughed at the idea, and then he likely would’ve openly challenged Dr. Van Dean. My ex was like that: always ready to challenge authority and people who had ideas in contrast to his own. It occurred to me that he’d been an arrogant prick and a bully, and I suddenly wondered what the hell I’d been thinking while I’d been dating him. How could I have been heartbroken over an asshole like Tanner?

  The drive home was a lot less awkward as my mom decided to try for a normal conversation.

  “What does your mom do, Cole?” she asked.

  “She’s an RN at Robinwoods Clinic.”

  Mom turned slightly to look back at Cole. “Your mom’s not Stacey Drepeau, is she?”

  “Yeah,” Cole said. “You know her?”

  “I not only know her, I worked with her two days ago! We have to spend a few hours at an off-site facility each week, and Wednesday was my day at the clinic.”

  “Cool,” Cole said.

  Mom nodded. “It was a pleasure working with her. I mean, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you she’s pretty great. A lot of the nurses get impatient with the residents, but not your mom. She’s efficient, cool under pressure, and she knows her stuff. You should be proud of her.”

  In the side mirror I saw Cole push his chest out a little. “Yeah, she’s cool,” he said.

  He and Mom then talked about Fredericksburg and the high school while I sat mostly silent, lost in thought.

  “Hey,” Mom said as we approached our exit off the highway. “You okay, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I was just thinking about what Dr. Van Dean said. You know, about finding Amber’s gravesite and taking her flowers.”

  “It’s sweet in a way, don’t you think?” she asked me.

  I grinned sideways. “Yeah. If it wasn’t so creepy. And if I actually knew where she was buried.”

  “I know where her grave is,” Cole said.

  I turned to look back at him. “You do?”

  “My mom used to go visit her at the cemetery,” he said. “She goes to my uncle’s gravesite, too, every year on his birthday. Amber’s in the same cemetery, and a couple of times she took me with her.”

  “Your mom visited Amber’s grave?” I asked.

  “Yeah. They were tight, I guess, and Mom never believed that Amber did it.”

  I studied Cole for a moment. “Are you gonna tell your mom about all this?”

  He blew out a breath. “Haven’t decided yet. But I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

  I felt a rush of gratitude and something warmer flood into me. Was Cole really as amazing as he seemed to be?

  “Thanks,” I said to him. “Can I think about it?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “You guys hungry?” Mom asked. “We could stop for dinner before we drop you off, Cole.”

  “That’d be awesome,” he said. “Thanks, Dr. Bennett.”

  Mom took us to a steakhouse with white tablecloths but an open, casual feel. Over rib-eye steaks and fully loaded baked potatoes we discussed going to Amber’s gravesite. I had to admit that I was a little nervous about the idea. What would I say? What could you say to your dead former self to bring peace to her?

  “I think some flowers and maybe a little prayer would be all you’d need to do, Lily,” Mom suggested.

  “I just want to get it over with,” I said. “I want the dreams to stop, and I want to get Amber out of my head.”

  “We could go tonight,” Cole suggested, an adventurist’s glint in his eye.

  Mom smirked. “I’m guessing you like a good horror movie now and then, too, right, Cole?”

  He grinned and held up a hand. “Guilty as charged, Dr. Bennett.”

  “I’m not going to any graveyard at night, even if it means having another nightmare,” I said, shuddering at the prospect. When I was seven, a babysitter let me stay up and watch Paranormal Activity. I’d been terrified of anything that might go bump in the night ever since.

  “Well, if you want to go tomorrow, Lily, I won’t be able to go with you,” Mom said. “I have to be back at the hospital at midnight tonight for a thirty-six-hour shift.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Cole said.

  I turned to him hopefully. “You will?”

  “Definitely,” he said. “You want to go in the morning? I’ve got a couple of lawns to mow starting at ten. We could go around nine if you want.”

  I nodded eagerly. “Thanks, Cole. I’ll get some flowers from my grandmother’s house and meet you at the gate.”

  “Don’t let her catch you stealing her flowers,” Mom warned.

  “You think I should go to a flower shop?” I asked.

  Mom chuckled. “No. Get them from Maureen’s garden. Just don’t get caught.”

  SPENCE WAS TRYING NOT TO get caught sneaking me into his house after dark. It was just after nine, and his mom and Stacey were no doubt soon on their way home from the movies, but Spence and I wanted to spend some time alone with each other after celebrating the night with friends.

  “You’re sure she won’t see my car down the street?” I whispered as Spence led me through the back door and into the darkened house.

  “She’ll be coming from the other direction,” he said, holding my hand as he led me expertly through the house, weaving his way around the furniture to his bedroom on the first floor. “When she and Spunky come in, I’ll come out to say good night, and she’ll never know you’re here.”

  I giggled. We were being so wicked, and I loved it. “What if she hears us?” I pressed. I was nervous about his mom barging in and finding us together.

  “I’ll turn on the TV,” he said as we reached the door to his room. Taking me in his arms, he kissed me and I melted against him.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I said when his lips left mine. “I can’t believe this is happening!”

  Spence grinned down at me. I’d never seen him so happy. Three weeks earlier, his SAT results had come back, and we’d all been stunned but elated that he’d scored in the ninetieth percentile. Then this morning, he’d gotten a call from the coach at UCLA who said that an official acceptance letter was on its way, but he wanted Spence to know that he was making a spot for him on the football team and awarding him a partial scholarship.

  The previous week Spence had also met with Mrs. Bennett, and he’d obviously found a way to charm and impress her, because she’d told him that if he made it into UCLA, she’d give him enough to cover the rest of his tuition as well as room and board. All he’d need was money for books and incidentals, and I knew that Spence had been working extra hard to save up enough to cover that.

  “It’s really happening,” he told me. “We’re going to California, Ambi!”

  I hugged him fiercely, so relieved and excited. And then I looked up into his beautiful face and without saying a word Spence knew what I wanted next. He took my hand and turned back to the door, opening it to lead me into his bedroom.

  The room was dimly lit from the streetlamp outside, but almost immediately we knew something was wrong. “What the hell?!” he said, stopping in his tracks as he looked at the floor. He reached for the light switch and what was wrong became clear.


  The room was in shambles: drawers to Spence’s dresser, nightstand, and desk had been pulled out and the contents scattered on the floor. His bedcovers had been yanked off, and his mattress lay askew of the box spring. Right next to his bed, a section of the wood floor had been pulled up to reveal a hole.

  I took it all in, dully noting that the lone window in the room was wide open, allowing the night’s breeze to billow the curtains. But Spence was entirely focused on the hole in the floor. “No!” he yelled. “No, no, no, no, no!”

  Letting go of my hand, he jumped forward and fell to his knees next to the hole. He reached in, felt around, and lifted out a small strongbox. Flipping open the lid, he stared at the inside in shock. It was empty. He raised both hands to cover his face and rocked back and forth on his knees.

  I was still stunned by the scene, but his actions jarred me to my senses and I moved to his side. I realized as I looked down that the section of the floorboards that had been pulled up was actually a small trapdoor that I’d never noticed before. The thief must’ve stumbled upon it purely by chance when he’d been tossing apart the bed, and I knew by Spence’s reaction that the trapdoor must’ve hidden his most valuable possessions.

  I put an arm across his shoulders; he seemed so distraught. “Spence?” I asked. “Honey, what was in there?”

  He shook his head. I bit my lip, my own eyes welling. “Spence?” I asked again.

  “Everything,” he said, his voice catching with emotion. “Everything was in there, Ambi.”

  I pulled him close and tried to console him, but for a long time, all Spence could do was cry bitter, heartbroken tears.

  I SAT ON THE FLOOR and wiped the tears streaming down my face. Mom had left for work at eleven P.M., and I’d fallen asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, only to be woken up three hours later by that same recurring nightmare. But this time, as I’d entered the field, I’d spotted Ben Spencer right away, and then I’d felt an arm snake around me, and the knife had plunged into my chest and the pain was so real, so terrible that it’d stolen my breath. I’d woken up gasping, and tumbled out of bed to collapse on the floor, my hands pressed hard against the birthmark over my sternum.

  At last, the pain subsided and my breathing slowed, but the tears kept coming. I was so tired. So exhausted. I wanted the assault on my sleep to stop. “Please, Amber,” I whispered into the dark stillness. “Please, stop it.”

  Of course there was no reply, and I ended up crawling back to bed and curling up into a ball. In spite of how nervous I was about falling asleep again, somehow I managed, and, thankfully, I wasn’t awakened by the nightmare again.

  My alarm went off at seven thirty, and I sighed with relief when I realized I’d gotten at least a few hours’ sleep. After getting ready and eating a hurried breakfast, I headed out the front door to make my way over to my grandmother’s gardens. Glancing nervously at the house, I chose a section that was partially hidden by a row of hedges and ventured to a small cluster of flowering plants, where I began to carefully snip a few buds. Grandmother had quite an assortment of flowers, and I was drawn to making a mostly white and lavender bouquet.

  “What the devil are you doing, child?!” an angry voice snapped.

  I straightened immediately, but froze in place after that, totally lost for words.

  “Lily!” Grandmother commanded. “Turn around and tell me what you think you’re doing.”

  I obeyed and came face-to-face with my grandmother, still in her silk robe and slippers.

  “I…these…I…” I stammered. “I just wanted a few flowers for Mom,” I said, thinking up the lie and running with it. “She’s been working so hard, and I thought these would help brighten up the kitchen.”

  My grandmother’s lips compressed into a thin line. She studied me distrustfully, but then seemed to accept my answer. “If you wanted flowers from my garden, you should have asked one of the gardeners.”

  “I know,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry, Grandmother. I didn’t want to bother anybody, and I just needed a few stems.”

  “Yes, well, the damage is done now. Go put them in water and join me for breakfast.”

  “I can’t,” I said, and then realized that sounded a little too harsh. “I mean, I already ate.”

  “Then join me while I eat breakfast,” she said impatiently.

  I hopped from foot to foot. “I’m really sorry, Grandmother, but I’m meeting somebody from my school in, like, ten minutes.”

  “Meeting someone from your school?” she repeated, as if she couldn’t fathom that. “Who?”

  “Uh…” My mind blanked. I knew I needed to offer grandmother a girl’s name, but for the life of me, the only name that popped into my head was Cole’s. Probably because none of the girls at school had bothered to talk to me yet.

  “You don’t know him,” I said, and immediately regretted it.

  “Try me,” she said.

  I sighed, resigned. “His name is Cole.”

  “Cole who?”

  “Cole Drepeau. He’s really nice. He helped me on my first day of class when I got lost.”

  It might’ve been my imagination, but I swore I saw my grandmother stiffen at the mention of Cole’s last name. “You will have nothing to do with Cole Drepeau, Lily,” she said. “Do you hear me?”

  I blinked. “You know who he is?”

  “Of course I know who he is! He’s trash. His whole family is trash, and I will not have my granddaughter associating with the likes of them!”

  Her outrage caught me completely off guard. Was she serious? What the hell had Cole or his family ever done to her? I opened my mouth to argue, but at that moment Cecilia, my grandmother’s personal maid, hurried up to her and said, “Mrs. Bennett, your son is at the front door!”

  I dropped the stems I’d been holding.

  “What?” my grandmother said. “What do you mean my son is at the front door?”

  “Dr. Bennett, ma’am. He’s at the front door.” My heart began to pound. Was Dad looking for me? “I know you don’t want to see him,” Cecilia continued. “But he refuses to leave. He says he won’t go until he talks to you.”

  I stiffened. So he wasn’t here for me. He was here for Grandmother. Whom he wasn’t speaking to. And why hadn’t he asked for me? I was his freaking daughter!

  Meanwhile, the displeased expression on Grandmother’s face had turned into a wicked sneer.

  “Show him to the foyer, Cecilia. Make him sit on the bench by the door. He’s to come no farther into my house than that bench. Tell him I’ll see him after I’ve freshened up my appearance.”

  “Would you like me to press a dress for you?” Cecilia asked.

  “Heavens no. Bring me two poached eggs and some cinnamon raisin toast. I’ll take my breakfast in the salon. Then I’ll read the paper. And perhaps then I’ll be ready to receive my son.”

  I couldn’t help but smirk and wish I had the power to keep my father waiting for an audience with me. Go, Grandmother! I thought.

  For her part, Cecilia looked a bit puzzled, but she bowed slightly to my grandmother and hurried away. The formidable woman then turned to me and said, “You should get back to the guesthouse, Lily. Put those in water and wait for me to send for you. No reason you should have a run-in with your father today.”

  “What’s he doing here, anyway?” I said, still shocked that he’d come to her home.

  “Oh, I think I know,” she said with a crocodile smile. “I’m recruiting all the women in his life—including that atrocious, greedy little tramp Jenny—to my side. I’m sure he’s fit to be tied about the lovely chat she and I had the other day regarding the child she’s carrying. That’s why he’s here, of course. Your father never could stand it when I gained the upper hand. He’s come here to demand I back off.” She laughed lightly, as if she enjoyed upsetting him. “Ah, well, he’ll come around. Eventually. Or when he figures out that she with the most money, wins.”

  With a final chuckle and a nod, she tu
rned away from me and strolled back toward her mansion.

  I was left dumbstruck and wondering what to do. In my back pocket my phone buzzed, and I retrieved it to see that Cole had just sent me a short text.

  Hey! It’s Cole. U ready?

  I glanced toward my grandmother’s, then back toward the guesthouse. If I didn’t go through with the ritual, I might never sleep again, and all I wanted was a good night’s sleep. Just one.

  Making up my mind, I tapped out a reply, bent to retrieve the blooms, then rushed toward the walk leading to the drive. Avoiding looking at my dad’s car, I ran toward the front gate, and stepped through the pedestrian door. Cole was parked by the side of the road. He smiled and offered me a salute as I walked up to his car. After I got in and buckled up, he said, “You good?”

  “Peachy,” I told him.

  I wasn’t, but hell if I was going to stick around and watch my dad and grandmother duke it out. And no way was I going to hang out at the guesthouse and wait to be summoned. I was sure both Mom and I were going to catch grief for it later, but right now I didn’t care.

  “Let’s roll,” I told Cole.

  We arrived at the cemetery about fifteen minutes later. It wasn’t a big place, but there were plenty of headstones. Cole parked about midway into the grounds, along a road that never seemed to straighten out as it wove through the many graves. Once he’d parked, we got out and he motioned me over to the left side of the lane. We then picked our way through the gravesites, careful not to disturb any of the flowers and mementos placed there by loved ones.

  Cole stopped in front of a brass grave marker and stood there solemnly. For a moment I thought he’d brought me to Amber’s final resting place. When I took in the marker, however, I felt a well of sadness so intense that I sank to my knees. It read simply: