Once Again

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Once Again Page 14

by Amy Durham


  “I know Kara’s involved in this,” he said when I finished.

  “Probably,” I agreed.

  “I’ve heard she’s told people we’re talking again. As in talking about reconciling. It’s a lie, Layla. A total lie. We barely speak, other than I’m polite enough to say hello to her when we’re in the same class.”

  “I know that,” I assured him. “I didn’t think twice about it when Miller said that this morning.”

  “Miller talked to you?” Lucas sat up straighter. “About Kara and me?”

  “Well, kind of,” I said. “He kind of warned me about her, and – ”

  I stopped there, stunned at the possibility. I hadn’t thought about Miller again until this moment.

  “What, Layla?”

  “He... asked me out.”

  “Miller asked you out?” he whispered, but it was a furious whisper. If we’d been alone in the house he probably would’ve shouted. “After what he did to you the first day of school?”

  His knuckles turned white and the muscles in his jaw tensed.

  “Yeah. Well, first he apologized for that incident again. Then he said something about not being sure what the situation between you and me was. I asked him what difference it made to him, and that’s when he said Kara could be pretty mean sometimes, and also he thought maybe if you and I weren’t together I might consider going out with him. I turned him down, gently, of course.”

  “You should’ve slapped him.”

  The image of that made me laugh. Luke’s expression told me he was serious and that made me laugh even harder.

  “Can you really see me doing that?” I asked, pleased when he finally smiled. “And anyway, what if you’re right about the evil people from our dreams being reincarnated? I didn’t want to set Miller off.”

  “This is probably how it began for them,” he said. “For the people we used to be. Little things, that didn’t seem to matter much. Then it escalates into direct attacks, like what happened with your car. Or worse.”

  I didn’t like the implications of that. I had a pretty good idea how it had ended for the two of us in our past lives, and if Luke was right, I shuddered to think what we might have to face.

  But we had to deal with it.

  “That’s why I started this.” I pulled my journal from my backpack and handed it to him.

  He flipped through it, stopping every now and then to take a closer look at something. I said nothing, just let him look in silence, and I could tell he was as surprised as I’d been at the amount of information I’d recorded.

  “This will be helpful,” he said when he reached the end. “To keep track of everything that’s happened.”

  “I thought so.”

  “But, you left something out.” He turned back to the page that contained today’s events. “The incident with Miller.”

  I took a blank sheet of paper from the back of the notebook, detailed my conversation with Miller, and stapled it to the already full page of stuff about the pictures, the loud music in my car, and the Vaseline on my wiper blades.

  “Layla,” Luke said, taking the now closed book from my hands. “This shouldn’t leave your house. Unless you’re coming to my house. I don’t think you should carry it with you to school.”

  He was right. Not that I’d been thinking of sharing it with anyone else, but the implications of someone accidentally – or on purpose – reading my private stuff were huge. The average person would think I was either crazy or writing some sort of fictional novel. But if Lucas was right and we weren’t the only ones reincarnated from the past, my journal falling into the wrong hands could be disastrous.

  “I agree.” I slid the journal back into my book bag. “It won’t leave this house, except to go to your house.”

  “Let’s forget about this for a while,” he said, leaning toward me with a smile. “We have a date tomorrow night, and I want it to be special and normal. So no more talk about any of this. Not until after our night out.”

  I could do nothing but smile as he closed the distance between us and put his lips on mine, soft and sweet. Though his kiss was brief, he pressed his forehead to mine, and I closed my eyes, drinking in the feel of his skin and the warmth of his breath on my face.

  My heart slid and skidded and rolled over in my chest, and I knew keeping my emotions safely locked inside was a losing battle. Luke had captured my heart, and whatever the consequences, there was no going back.

  CHAPTER 28

  Of course, on the day of my date with Lucas, String City bustled with more activity than ever. A steady stream of people came in, and the phone rang off the hook.

  Dad even called in Charlie, his assistant manager, who normally had Saturdays off.

  The two of them handled the big things – instrument and equipment sales, guitar repairs, and so on. I manned the phones and took care of the smaller sales, like guitar strings, picks, and cables.

  Constant guitar riffs and chords filled the store, both acoustic and electric, as customers tried out instruments and amps they wanted to purchase. I figured as far as part time work went, I had it better than most high school kids, because I got to listen to live music.

  Every so often, Dad would look over at me and roll his eyes, all the while smiling like a big kid. He loved this business. Somehow, since coming here, he looked younger and the gray in his hair seemed less prominent.

  My parents were so happy here, and I had to admit, I was too. My happiness existed despite the crazy circumstances I’d found myself in, and because I was in them with Luke. I wondered how my parents would react if they knew. Would their happiness be diminished?

  I so didn’t want that to happen.

  So I’d do whatever I had to to make sure they didn’t find out something supernatural was afoot in Sky Cove.

  Because I loved them. Which made the fact I needed to press for information about my adoption most unpleasant.

  ***

  The hectic business made the hours pass faster, which was a plus. Another plus was Dad letting me off thirty minutes early so I could have a little extra time to get ready.

  I thought again how cool my parents could be.

  I loved my brown cowl-necked sweater. It was the color of milk chocolate – anything chocolate was okay in my book – and soft and warm like a blanket. The way the neck draped across my collar bones made me feel elegant and grown up.

  So it was no surprise I found myself reaching for the sweater as I got ready for my date.

  I had no idea where we were going, other than Camden, but when I’d pressed Lucas for more information on the basis of needing to choose an outfit, he’d admitted that dressing up was not required.

  So my dark blue jeans accompanied the sweater, the denim a dense navy and the bottoms cut to fit over the boots I’d worn to the first football game. My hair was down, both for looks and to keep the cold late-October wind off my neck, but thanks to a few minutes with a flat-iron, it was straight and sleek.

  Small turquoise stones, set in silver, dangled from my ears, and as I put the finishing touches on my make-up, I was satisfied I looked pretty but not like I’d gone to a lot of trouble.

  I wanted Luke to know I cared enough to look nice for him, but not to think I cared more about my appearance than things that really mattered.

  Being a girl was a delicate balancing act.

  As I made my way downstairs, I heard my mom in the office, probably checking her email and printing coupons.

  I had a few minutes before Luke was due to arrive, so I decided now was as good a time as any to broach the subject of my adoption.

  “Hey Mom,” I said, poking my head in the office.

  “Don’t you look pretty?” She stood up from the desk and came across the room to hug me. “Lucas won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

  I smiled. Moms were really great for your self-esteem. At least mine was. Part of me hated to even bring up my adoption, because I didn’t want to upset her. But another part of me
knew she’d be cool with my questions.

  “Mom I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

  She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. Stepping out of the office, she made the few steps down the hall to the living room. I followed.

  We sat next to each other on the brown leather couch, and by the way she was looking at me – all misty-eyed and melancholy – I got the feeling she thought I was going to ask something about boys or love.

  Yeah, that was a road I wasn’t going down with her. At least not yet.

  “I’ve been wondering about my adoption.” I said it softly, but to my ears the words sounded like a harsh blurt.

  “You have?” Her expression changed completely, but despite it, she still seemed calm and steady. She reached to tuck a strand of light-brown hair behind here ear. “I wondered when you’d ask.”

  So she’d been expecting it.

  “It never seemed important enough to ask about before.”

  “What’s changed?” she asked.

  I shrugged. It was a legitimate question and deserved a legitimate answer. I’d give her the most honest answer I could.

  “Helping Luke with all his genealogy stuff just got me wondering, I guess.” It was as close to the truth as I could get. “I know a lot about your family and Dad’s family. And that’s more than enough. It’s not that anything’s missing. I guess I just got curious about where my birth parents might’ve come from.”

  Mom reached for my hand, took it gently in hers. I hadn’t realized I’d balled my fists until she smoothed out the tension with her touch.

  “It’s natural to wonder Layla,” she said. “And your father and I have always told you that when you were ready, we’d tell you what we knew.”

  I didn’t have it in me actually say the words I want to know about it, because the truth was I didn’t really want to know. But I needed whatever information she had about my birth parents. Apparently, my silence was enough.

  “We used a private attorney in Nashville,” she began. “Your father knew of a couple through his work who’d adopted a child. They told us about the lawyer that had helped them, and when we came to the realization we weren’t going to be able to have children the regular way, we contacted him.

  “Your father handled most of the talking and phone-calling, but I gathered pretty quickly how it worked. There are attorneys all over the country who specialize in private adoptions and work closely with agencies. Sometimes a young mother chooses an adoptive family for her child. Other times a young woman who wants to allow her baby to be adopted comes to the attorney or an agency and asks for help in locating a family.

  “The lawyer we worked with had contacts in various parts of the country. He put calls in to all of them that he had a family ready and willing to adopt. He warned us the waiting would be difficult, and he was right. But in only six months, we got the call that a young mother had chosen adoption for her unborn child.”

  “That was me?”

  “It was you.” Mom smiled. “Your father and I were open to the idea of an open adoption, which meant the birth mother would know where her baby was and the adoptive parents would allow her to be a part of the child’s life at some point. But the young woman, your birth mother, didn’t want that. I imagine giving up a child for adoption is difficult enough, and perhaps it was easier for her this way.” Mom’s melancholy smile told me that she truly felt for the young woman who’d given me up. It said a lot about my mom.

  She went on. “Our attorney handled everything, and coordinated with the agency and with the young woman’s attorney. We wanted her to have the best prenatal care possible, both for your sake and for hers, so we offered to pay for any medical expenses her insurance didn’t cover.”

  “Were you able to be there when I was born?”

  “No.” Mom shook her head. “When she went into labor our attorney notified us and we flew to Boston immediately. But since it wasn’t an open adoption and the birth mother didn’t want to meet us or know who we were, we didn’t go to the hospital to get you until after she’d left.”

  “Boston?” My pulsed kicked into high gear. “I was born in Boston?”

  “Yes, at Massachusetts General, but the adoption was finalized in Tennessee, since that was the state we were residents of.”

  The realization that I was a New Englander by birth put a whole new spin on the notion that I might be somehow descended from the family of the woman in my dreams. I don’t know what I’d expected to find out from my mother, but I hadn’t prepared myself for this.

  Hoping she couldn’t see the stunned feeling written on my face, I squeezed her hand and smiled.

  “Thanks for telling me,” I whispered.

  “I wish I knew more to tell you.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “This is enough.”

  I heard Luke’s car door open and close in the driveway. I stood up and smoothed my jeans over my thighs.

  “You’re lovely, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Now go meet your prince.”

  I hugged her. Tight. And held on for longer than a moment. Whoever my birth mother was, she’d given me the greatest gift in the world by allowing this woman to be my mother.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  The doorbell rang, and before I answered, I filed away this latest piece of information into my “tell Luke later” compartment. Because, after all, we weren’t supposed to speak of our mystery until after our date.

  CHAPTER 29

  Leave it to Lucas to plan the perfect date. He could’ve spent money on tickets to show at the Camden Civic Theater, which would’ve been fun, but wouldn’t have allowed us the freedom to talk and laugh. He could’ve made reservations at an expensive restaurant where both of us would’ve felt out of place. But he didn’t.

  Instead, he found a family-owned diner that boasted traditional Tennessee barbecue. Who knew there would be barbecue in Maine?

  Luke enjoyed the sweet and tangy shredded pork served on southern-style cornbread just as much as I did.

  The little taste of Tennessee, and the opportunity to share it with him, warmed me from the inside, despite the cold temperature.

  When we finished dinner, he drove toward the harbor. Even in the dark I could tell it was much larger than the one in Sky Cove. A string of restaurants and businesses seemed to be enjoying a booming Friday night. After an impressive job of parallel parking, he came around and opened my door, taking my hand as my feet hit the sidewalk.

  “There’s a store right up here I know you’ll love,” he said, squeezing my fingers.

  The hand-painted sign above the door read Aged Page, and I smiled with excitement when I realized it was a used bookstore.

  We found several volumes of Robert Burns poetry, each of us selecting a different one, as well as a collection of Tolstoy short stories which contained our latest literature assignment.

  There was even a display of artsy jewelry, which looked to be handmade. I walked over to take a closer look.

  “Is that sea glass?” I asked him, holding a pair of earrings with green-blue stones wrapped whimsically with silver wire.

  “Sure is,” he nodded. “Some people comb the beaches finding it and then make jewelry out of it.”

  “How cool.” I hung the earrings back on the wrack, thinking maybe my mom would like a pair for Christmas.

  The find of the evening though, was a DVD of “An Affair to Remember”, which Luke grabbed immediately, saying we could watch it together back at his house.

  The older lady who rang up our purchases smiled when she saw the movie.

  “Nice to see the young folks enjoying films from my generation.” She placed our items in a brown paper bag and handed it across the counter to Luke.

  “It’s a great movie,” he replied. “We’re going home to watch it right now.”

  “You two lovebirds look very happy.” She turned toward me. “Reminds me of when my William and I were young and in love.”

  William? The name set o
ff alarm bells in my head, but for a split second I couldn’t figure out why. Then I noticed the elderly lady’s nametag.

  Patsy.

  I looked up at Luke and could tell by his expression he’d seen it too.

  Had we really run across Patsy Emerson by accident?

  And were such occurrences accidents? Could I even believe in coincidence anymore?

  “Are you Patsy Emerson?” Luke asked.

  Her eyes lit up. Of course she was Patsy Emerson.

  “Yes,” she said, seeming pleased he somehow knew her. “Do I know you?”

  “Not really,” he answered. “My name is Lucas Ellis. And this Layla Bradford. We live in Sky Cove.”

  “My hometown. William and I lived there for many years.”

  “I know,” Luke nodded. “I’ve been doing a bit of research into my family history, and discovered a possible connection to your family.”

  “Is that so?” Patsy asked, curious.

  “Yes, ma’am. A woman named Amelia Cutler. I think she’s the same woman in my mom’s records, Amelia Cutler Light.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Patsy said, her smile bright. “William had an aunt named Amelia Light, who was a sister to William’s uncle Frank Cutler. Amelia and her husband moved out of the area, though, and William only met her once or twice as a small child.”

  Astounded was too mild a word for what I was feeling. I made a mental check to see that my chin wasn’t on the floor and my eyes were still in their sockets.

  Luke, meanwhile, continued on in his discussion with Patsy Emerson as if they were old friends and nothing more was at stake than his genealogy chart.

  “Amazing that Layla and I would run into you here,” he said. “Layla bought my birthday present at Emerson Antiques.”

  A nostalgic smile spread across the older woman’s face. “William and I shared happy times in that house. Parkinson’s disease hit him early, and we had to move to assisted living long before we thought we’d have to.”

 

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