Ocean's Fire

by Stacey Tucker

  “Here,” she said, handing him the photo. “Something to remember me by.”

  He stared at the picture. “The last time you said that to me, you punched me in the shoulder,” he said. “Thanks for this.” He walked to the door but stopped before walking out.

  “I’m not with him, Argan,” Skylar blurted. “I want you to know he’s nothing.” He kept his back to her, but he still didn’t leave. “I can’t take back the mistakes I made. I wish I could, but they’ll be on my record forever. I’m trying to figure out why I needed to do that. I’m so sorry I hurt you. You are pure and wonderful, and I hope someday you can forgive me.”

  He turned to face her. “I’m sorry this was your first Christmas without your mom,” he said. “That’s why I came. I knew it would be hard for you.” He slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door. A whoosh of cold wind rushed through the foyer. “Merry Christmas, Skylar.” He walked out the door and closed it behind him.

  Skylar stood in the foyer as the cold air landed on her skin. “Merry Christmas, Argan,” she said to the empty room.

  It was Christmas Day and Milicent was spending the holiday in Italy without Devlin. He had cited catching up at the office as reason not to accompany her, but the truth was, she hadn’t invited him. She went to Italy every Christmas to visit the only family member she was on speaking terms with—her grandmother Vivienne.

  Vivienne de Claire was a formidable woman. Even in her late seventies, she was over six feet tall and stunningly beautiful. Her captivating green eyes shone like emeralds from underneath her long, thick, honey-colored hair. She had the skin of someone half her age (to which she credited all of the olive oil in her diet).

  Vivienne had left the States when Milicent’s father, Jonathan, committed suicide. She’d longed to return to the inviting warmth of Italy, where she was raised. Ever since, she’d visited the US only on the rare occasion her longtime girlfriends asked for a reunion.

  Vivienne knew all of Milicent’s secrets but loved her anyway. She seemed to understand that she’d never healed from the pains of her past, and why.

  The ancient city of Bari was arid and earthy despite its location atop the Adriatic Sea. With each passing year, the walls of the homes along the shoreline threatened to succumb to the lapping sea beneath them, but worry never entered Vivienne’s mind. She was confident it would be another thousand years before that would come to pass.

  The two women sat at a bistro table on a deck the size of a sofa sipping wine at noontime.

  “How is the campaign going, dear?” Vivienne asked. She was particularly ravishing with her mountain of hair piled high on her head, a crocheted headband keeping flyaways at bay. Her housedress was uncustomarily short, showing off her long, lean legs.

  “All is going to plan. Devlin will be in the White House in the fall, I’m sure of it,” Milicent said, gulping her wine. “Especially once he announces that dreadful Sara Hendricks as his running mate. It’s been fits and starts trying to get a woman in the Oval. VP is a start.”

  Milicent was in a dreadful mood. The dry air mixed with the saltwater made for an unflattering combination that left her feeling puffy. She hated feeling puffy.

  “Then you must plan. Being First Lady is a tremendous job. Think of all of the influence you will have.”

  Milicent scoffed. “First Lady is a fluff position, really.”

  Vivienne sighed. “Milicent, you must play by the rules of this world. You know that.”

  “And you know I’ve never been a rule follower, Grandmother,” Milicent said, getting up from her seat. “What good is all of this”—she scanned her body with her animated hands—“if I have to keep it hidden?”

  “Child, you have a responsibility to your line to behave within the set parameters. We have talked about this,” Vivienne said, standing to meet Milicent’s eyes.

  “My line?” Milicent said, growing angry. “You mean you. I’m done following orders.”

  “You told me you learned your lesson after the mess you made of that boy,” Vivienne said. The anger in her voice grew to meet the red flames in her eyes.

  Regret flashed across Milicent’s face. “I feel my stay is coming to an end,” she said quietly.

  Vivienne softened. “It’s Christmas. Stay a little longer, won’t you?”

  Milicent looked at her and nodded once. “Women your age shouldn’t show their knees,” she said in a biting tone, an indication all was forgiven.

  Vivienne laughed and they retreated inside.

  Skylar pulled up to Ocean’s black gate with a knot in her stomach. It was too early for morning sickness, but she wasn’t ruling it out. It was more of a pain than nausea. She got out of the car, and the pain in her abdomen intensified. She stood in the crushed gravel driveway, slightly bent over. She wasn’t sure if she needed help or if it would pass if she waited it out.

  After a few minutes, the pain passed and Skylar was able to stand upright. She lifted her duffel bag out of the trunk and the cramp returned, more intense this time, radiating through her entire stomach. She dropped her bag and grabbed the back bumper of her car for support as she fell to the ground.

  Skylar looked at her swollen belly. “I’m giving birth to an elephant,” she said to herself. She felt disoriented. She was in a doctor’s office waiting room. She looked around and didn’t see any familiar faces. She couldn’t remember why she was there.

  “Can I help you, dear?” a calm voice asked. The voice belonged to a stern-looking woman carrying a clipboard, her hair pulled back tight, unnaturally bringing her eyes up into a slant. She wore a nametag that read Pamela.

  “I was in the driveway one minute, and now I’m here,” Skylar said. “Where is here?”

  “You’ve come to meet your son,” Pamela said. “Come with me. It won’t be long now.”

  “I’m . . . not sure,” Skylar said. She shouldn’t be doing this. Something wasn’t right.

  “No need to be scared, dear. This is standard procedure. Come now.” Pamela’s voice took a stern tone.

  Skylar followed her reluctantly out of the ordinary waiting room and through a door to the street. They walked across a bustling intersection at a crosswalk. The scene reminded Skylar of rush hour in Manhattan. Everyone was dressed in business suits, in a hurry to get somewhere. They entered a building that looked like any other in New York City except that the building stood alone. This high-rise, at least thirty stories tall, was the only building on the barren, ashy land. Skylar knew she was not on earth anymore.

  “I beg your pardon, but you never told me where we are,” Skylar said.

  “Mmmmhmmm,” Pamela said. She ushered Skylar into an elevator. “Push four, please.”

  Skylar obliged.

  The doors opened. The sign Union ServiceS greeted them as they exited the elevator.

  “This way,” Pamela said.

  They both stepped out of the elevator and back into the original doctor’s office waiting room. Skylar looked down to see her baby belly had vanished. She started to scream. “My baby! What did you do to me? My baby!”

  “It’s all right, dear, stop shouting,” Pamela said, looking annoyed. “That’s how it works. You can’t meet your baby with it still inside.”

  “I don’t want this. I want to go back. Give me my baby back!” Skylar couldn’t calm down.

  “There’s no going back once you’re on the fourth floor, dear. You should have said something sooner. Don’t worry, you’ll be glad you did it,” Pamela said in her saccharine tone.

  They entered a cheerful room decorated in candy shop colors. All of the toddler-sized furniture was pristinely painted with barnyard animals, and stuffed toys littered the floor. This was a perfect place for happy children.

  “Wait here.” Pamela vanished through a revolving door.

  Skylar sat in the nearest petite chair, grabbed a stuffed lamb, and hugged it tight. She was petrified. She buried her head in the lamb’s fake wool.

  “Mama,” an angelic voice
whispered.

  Skylar looked up to see the most beautiful face she had ever seen. This perfect, round cherub with aqua eyes as big as saucers stared at her with a love that pierced her heart in an instant. His love for her was palpable. This was her son. He was part of her. And she was part of him. She was whole again. She couldn’t contain her tears of happiness.

  She knelt in front of the toddler and reached out to touch him. He smiled and ran to her open arms. As she held him, a tear fell from her eye and landed on his perfect head.

  “We thought you would never wake up,” Ocean said in an unconcerned tone.

  Skylar looked around the parlor, unclear where she was. She looked at Ocean. “How long was I out?” She could only remember bits and pieces of her dream.

  “About an hour. I guess you needed a nap,” Ocean said, feeling her forehead.

  “Who’s we?” Skylar asked, sitting up.

  “Ronnie’s in the kitchen concocting one of her brews. I’m not sure if it’s supposed to terminate that egg inside you or cement it in. She’s been on the fence about this whole thing. She’s a whiz with potions for someone who’s not a witch. You should have her whip up something for energy. You were dragging ass last time I saw you.”

  “Witches?” Skylar asked.

  Ocean rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” Skylar said.

  Ronnie came in from the kitchen carrying a tray of green smoothies and fruit. Rhia trailed behind her.

  “Not another smoothie,” Skylar said.

  “Nice to see you too, Sky,” Ronnie said. “I only took time out of my not-so-busy schedule to peel avocados and crush garlic. You’re getting cranky.”

  Skylar tried to smile and pushed the hair away from her face. “Why do you think I cramped up? Is something wrong with the baby? It’s my body, isn’t it? I’m a terrible hostess.”

  “Calm down,” Ronnie said. “You cramped from dehydration. This will help.” She handed Skylar a smoothie.

  Rhia walked toward Skylar with an uneasiness Skylar had never seen in her. “I’m worried for you,” she said. “Mama tells me not to, but I can’t help it.”

  “Rhia,” Ronnie scolded.

  “It’s all right,” Skylar said.

  Rhia spoke slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. “This baby isn’t good for you. Even now, when I look at you, there is a dark cloud over you . . . here.” She reached out to touch Skylar’s abdomen. “I see it . . . fighting with you.”

  “I’m not surprised, given the father,” Skylar said.

  “You’ve had no contact with Joshua?” Ocean asked.

  “I couldn’t if I wanted to. He left on the Grayer campaign tour. He’s somewhere in the Midwest by now.”

  Ronnie and Ocean gave each other knowing glances.

  “And Argan?” Ronnie asked.

  “I saw him Christmas Eve,” Skylar said. “He is incredibly kind.”

  “There’s love there,” Ronnie said. “That never dies.”

  “Well then,” Ocean said. “Let’s focus on you. Can you get up? We can head to the Grotto and work with the book. It feels at home there.”

  Skylar stood up, and a wave of clarity came over her. More pieces of the dream about her son trickled into her mind. She felt the happiness in her heart holding him in her arms. Her hands traveled to her stomach. “I’m keeping it,” she whispered.

  “No, you’re not,” Rhia said, munching on a banana.

  Ocean and Ronnie said nothing.

  “I’m sorry, Rhia,” Skylar said. “I know you think something’s wrong, but I had a vision of my own. It’s a boy, and he is beautiful and good, and I love him already.”

  “It’s a trick,” Rhia said. “It’s very easy for them to manipulate your dreams. You can’t let him win,” she said, taking the last bite of her banana.

  Skylar gave Ronnie a confused look.

  “She’s had her own run-in with Joshua,” Ronnie said.

  “What? She’s a child,” Skylar said in horror.

  “Joshua doesn’t see age as a boundary,” Ocean said. “He understands that we are all timeless, Rhia especially.”

  “He knows about her powers,” Ronnie said. “He’s tried to take them more than once. But then he stopped trying. I’m sure Milicent had something to do with that.” As soon as the words left her lips, Ronnie winced as if she had said more than she should.

  “You do know why he’s traveling with the Grayers,” Skylar said, her voice rising. Ronnie didn’t have to say a word. Skylar knew she was right. “And how could he take Rhia’s powers?” she asked, sure she already knew the answer.

  Ocean poured a stream of whiskey into her coffee mug.

  “It’s not even noon!” Skylar scolded.

  “Save the lecture. It’s the only thing that settles my stomach,” Ocean said. She took a gulp. “You saw him in the alley. You know how it works.”

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Skylar glanced at Rhia, who remained emotionless. “Where do the Grayers come in?”

  Ocean paused and drank more of her whiskey-laden coffee. Now it was Skylar’s turn to read minds. She slowly put the pieces together—Joshua’s adoption and the Grayers’ biotech background. Ocean, apparently seeing the recognition dawning on Skylar’s face, nodded in agreement.

  “Milicent has had . . . training . . . in mind manipulation,” Ocean said, choosing her words carefully.

  “Mind control?” Skylar scoffed. “Are you for real?”

  “Oh, please,” Ocean said, flicking a hand, “the government’s been doing it for at least a century. Why should they have all the fun? You can google most of this crap.” She had finished her coffee now, and she poured more whiskey into her cup, straight up this time. “With that in her back pocket and a labyrinth of state-of-the-art laboratories at her disposal, Milicent was able to create her own best Frankenstein’s monster. But like the monster, he doesn’t always behave as he should. As you saw, his temper often gets the best of him.”

  “Joshua has been taught how to manipulate a person’s internal vibration and tune in to their weakest part,” Ronnie said. “Look how you crumbled so quickly, knowing fully well you were decimating your budding love with Argan.”

  “You kept all of this from me,” Skylar whispered. She looked at Ocean. “You made me believe we’ve had lifetimes together.”

  “Well you have, but that’s not relevant at the moment.” Ocean waved off Skylar’s accusation. “It’s this lifetime that we care about.”

  “I’m sorry, Skylar,” Ronnie said. “My first priority is Rhia and her safety. None of this is spoken of lightly, even now, when you are just as entrenched in it as we are.”

  “Does Devlin know what Joshua is?” Skylar asked, her eyes glued to the planks of the wood floor in front of her.

  “You would think it would be impossible for Milicent to hide a child from her own husband,” Ocean said. “And that would be true in a typical marriage. But given their lifestyle, his line of work, and her propensity for manipulation, I’m sure she managed to make sure he never knew Joshua existed.” Ocean drained the remainder of her whiskey. “And now that they’ve entered this new phase of their lives, she’s made the introductions in a way that doesn’t give away her past with the superstar.”

  Skylar kept staring at the floor, letting it all sink in.

  “I’m sorry about all this, Sky,” Ronnie said. “Rhia . . . we have to get to school, pretty girl.”

  “Bye, Skylar,” Rhia said. She hopped up and ran to retrieve her flip-flops by the front door.

  “Take it easy,” Ronnie said to Skylar. “You will need all of your energy for the months ahead.”

  Skylar gave Ronnie a weak smile. “Bye, Rhia,” she yelled into the foyer.

  “I’ll check in with you later,” Ronnie said as she followed Rhia out the front door.

  Ocean turned to Skylar. “Let’s move forward, shall we? Get out your book and I’ll be right back,” she said, leaving the r
oom.

  Skylar rummaged around her duffel bag for her book and phone. When she stood up with the two items, she instantly bent back in half with devastating pain. She grabbed the marble corner of a small tabletop to her left, and her book tumbled with the table to the floor. The noise brought Ocean back into the room.

  “Something’s wrong,” Skylar whispered. She could barely speak through the pain. “It’s . . . worse . . . than . . . before.”

  Ocean helped Skylar off the floor and sat her on the couch, then kneeled in front of her and put her hand over her abdomen. She closed her eyes and waited.

  Skylar continued to cry in agonizing pain. A slight breeze came into the room and soon quickened to a strong wind. The two women sat in the middle of a small, tight cyclone of swirling air that lasted a short time before abruptly stopping.

  Skylar opened her eyes. Magda stood beside Ocean, looking as radiant as the first time they met. Ocean remained kneeling, her eyes closed.

  “Skylar, you need to relax,” Magda said. “Nothing can happen while you are so tense. Take deep breaths.”

  Skylar tried to breathe, but anything deeper than the shallowest inhale gave her a searing pain under her ribs. “No! It hurts too much,” she said with tears streaming down her face. “What’s supposed to happen? Am I losing the baby?”

  “Yes,” Magda said quietly.

  Skylar looked at her in disbelief. “No. I read it in the book! I’m supposed to have this baby,” she pleaded. “I had a dream. I met him!”

  “That book is malleable. Dreams are only possibilities. You will meet him again,” Magda said. “At a better time.”

  “Do something!” Skylar commanded from the depth of her being. “Ocean summoned you to help me!”

  “I am helping,” Magda said calmly. “You said yourself a baby is not part of your plan. I’m helping to change the course now, before it’s too late.”

  “Ocean, help me!” Skylar yelled in Ocean’s face, but the frizzy-haired woman only tightened her grip on Skylar’s belly, making her retch with pain.

  “Stop! Get away from me!” Skylar tried to pull away, but Ocean’s hand was locked on her like a vise. “God, no! No!” Skylar wept as blood flowed from where she sat.