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© 2014 Sharon Bayliss
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Sharon Bayliss did an amazing job creating this magical world that lies beneath our own. I love being under the spell of an excellent new series. ~Jen Estes (Goodreads Review)
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A Taste of The Charge, by Sharon Bayliss
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For my mother.
When I was a little girl and couldn’t sleep, my mother told me to make up stories in my head. Best advice I’ve ever gotten. I love you, Mom.
“Though my soul may set in darkness it will rise in perfect light. I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” – Sarah Williams
avid had waited for an important call for eleven years, and even after all this time, his heart raced every time he heard the phone ring. Even in church, or while making love to his wife, his fingers itched to pick up on the first ring. Any call could be the call.
The call finally came when David lay in bed with Amanda watching television. She slept with her head on his arm. His fingers tingled from the weight of her head cutting off his circulation, but he didn’t push her away. She never seemed to slow down until she lay in bed next to him. Only then could he see the blonde tips of her eyelashes and the freckles between her breasts. No one else noticed these things, perhaps not even Amanda herself. These details belonged to him alone.
When David’s phone rang on the nightstand, Amanda opened her eyes. An unfamiliar 432 area code lit up the display.
“It’s almost midnight,” Amanda said.
“I’m sorry.”
“All your kids are at home, babe, so it’s nothing important. Business can wait until morning.”
“Hello,” David said into the receiver.
“May I speak with David Vandergraff?” The woman on the end of the line had a thick West Texas accent, and she stretched out the vowels in his last name.
“This is he,” David said.
Amanda shook her head and rolled over in bed. She had given up on trying to fix his phone answering habit a long time ago.
“My name is Josie Barstow. I work for the Odessa Police Department. I’m calling about the missing persons report you filed for your children in 2002.”
David stopped breathing. He slipped into their master bathroom and closed the door. He had waited a long time for this, but he could never have prepared himself for the rush of hope and terror that came with the prospect of finally knowing. Her words swam around in his head, and he couldn’t seem to hold on to any of them. Until he heard the one word he really wanted to hear.
“Alive.”
He expelled a breath he had held for years.
“Where are they?” David asked.
“A children’s shelter here in Odessa.”
A brief moment passed where the gravity in the small room seemed to increase. He could feel the weight of his next words, feel them hovering in the air like a wrecking ball about to come down. Without thinking about it, he picked up Amanda’s night cream, unscrewed the top, then sniffed it. It smelled like flowers and something summery, like citrus. That’s how she smelled when she crawled in bed next to him every night.
“I’m coming to get them.”
“There are legal arrangements that will need to be made.”
“That’s fine. But I’m bringing my children home with me.”
David tried to slip out of the bathroom quietly, but Amanda had not gone back to sleep. She sat up in bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You’re all pale, like you haven’t breathed in the last five minutes.”
“It was Liza, you know, my VP of human resources,” he said. “Her mother died, and she wanted to let me know she wouldn’t be coming in for a while.”
Amanda nodded solemnly.
“Sorry to hear that,” she said, then slid under the covers again.
He couldn’t tell her yet. He needed another night with her. He needed another ten thousand nights.
avid spent the better part of Thursday afternoon figuring out the best way to tell Amanda what he had done… and what he had to do next. He wrote down phrases like, “It was a long time ago. I’ve been faithful ever since,” and “I love you more than anything. I’ll do anything to make our marriage work.” No matter how true the words were, they fell flat on the page. He knew they wouldn’t be good enough.
He folded his talking points into a stiff little square and taped it to the underside of his desk. He doubted Amanda ever looked in his office, let alone ran her hands under his desk to search for work-in-progress confessions. This reminded him of writing his vows. And, just like when writing his vows, he couldn’t get advice from the only person who would know what to say… Amanda.
Amanda’s car appeared at the top of the driveway, and he went downstairs to meet her. David could sense her elevated blood pressure from the long Houston commute without needing a cuff. Her face looked a little shiny. Eyes glassy. Hair frizzy. She kissed him with the same passion she had for taking off her heels and hanging up her coat… in fact, she took her heels off with more passion, complete with a sigh of pleasure. He wanted to grab her and press her against the wall, hold her head in his hands and give her a movie kiss. He hadn’t kissed her that way in a long time, and if he didn’t do it now, he might miss his chance.
“How was your day?” David asked.
“Ugh,” she said.
He should wait to tell her on a good day. But he had said that every day since he’d gotten the call from Odessa a week ago. He would leave tomorrow, so he had run out of chances. His marriage would end tomorrow, whether he gave her a heads-up or not. He owed her so much more than an explanation; he had to at least give her that.
She didn’t elaborate on her “ugh” and went straight to the wine rack. She chose a thirty-dollar Pinot Noir. So, she had a bad day that called only for moderately priced wine, not vodka and cranberry or even Cherry Garcia. Maybe he should remove all the vodka and Cherry Garcia before he told her, or stock up on it; he didn’t know which would be kinder.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“Oh, fine.”
“You didn’t have to go into the office?” she asked.
“Not today. Conferenced in.”
“Bastard,” she said. “Maybe when I’m the big boss man like you, I can work in my PJs. Soon enough.”
“Hell, yes.”
He waited for the update on whatever department did whatever stupid thing that day. As always, he had prepared phrases like, that sounds frustrating, and they should have listened to you, and plenty of you’re rights for her. But she switched topics.
“Oh, I keep forgetting to tell you. Ashlynn’s Baptism is on Sunday. So we’re going to Carson and Jess’s church this week. They’re having a family thing on Saturday too. You don’t have to work, do you?”
Work, no. Dr
ive to Odessa, yes.
“Did you hear my question?”
“Yeah. That should be fine. I can’t believe she’s already twelve.”
“I know. Soon enough, she’ll be another little Emmy. God help Carson. He never even liked it when I dated guys in high school. If he was that protective of his little sister, I can’t imagine what he will do with his daughters.”
David’s stomach lurched. He hadn’t even considered how Amanda’s brother Carson would react to the news. Carson had threatened David on many occasions in the first years they knew each other. David heard a lot of, “If you ever hurt her, I swear I’ll…” followed by a variety of creative threats, most of which involved Carson’s extensive gun collection. However, in the over twenty years that had passed, Carson and his wife Jess had become David’s best friends. He realized now that he’d probably lose them too. David would also have to tell his own younger brother, James. James had always looked up to him, wanted to be like him. David could already imagine hearing the disappointment in his brother’s voice.
“Oh… also, Emmy’s friend Samantha will be staying with us for a few days next week. Her parents are going to Europe.”
“What? Now is not really a good time.”
“Why not?”
“I mean, shouldn’t they have given us more notice?”
“You know how her parents are. We have the room. Besides, she spends most of her time here anyway. I thought you’d barely notice the difference.”
David reached over and removed the clip from Amanda’s hair and let it fall around her shoulders. The light color concealed the few strands of gray, a secret only he got close enough to see. He combed his fingers through her hair to smooth it down. Her hair smelled like their bed. Like her pillow.
“Was my hair messed up?” she asked.
“No. It just looks nice like this.”
She ran her fingers through her hair self-consciously.
“I doubt that. It’s all creased from my clip and unwashed.” She gave him a hard look. “Is something wrong with you? You’re acting drunk.” She leaned in and sniffed his lips. “I didn’t think you’d be drunk on a random Thursday, but who knows what you do when you work from home.”
Talk to lawyers. Plan confessions. Pack bags. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. He tasted the wine on her lips and knew it would never taste that sweet right out of the bottle. He relished the flavor and inhaled deeply while he kissed her to take in the rest. He smelled her shampoo, her face cream, and a touch of sweat from her commute. He had to store every detail, just in case.
After he released her, she smiled like she had in their wedding photos. Perfect. Just the kiss he had intended.
“Dear God,” she said. “What was that for?”
He shrugged. “You look nice today.”
“That’s a bold-faced lie. I didn’t even get a chance to do my eyes this morning.”
“Let’s go upstairs.” Having sex with her right before he admitted his affair seemed creepy, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t even left yet and he feared he might forget her. He had forgotten how her nipples felt against his tongue, how it felt to be inside her.
She gave him her half-smile, which always meant yes.
“I don’t know what you’ve been drinking, but keep drinking it,” she said.
The fear set in after. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his body into her back. He held her so tightly, he knew she couldn’t get up until he decided she could. She would notice it soon. She would hear his heart beating too fast. Speeding up instead of slowing down, as it ought to after a good release. She would notice him holding his breath to keep himself together.
She squirmed in his arms. “Honey, if we don’t go downstairs soon, the kids are going to come looking for us. You know how they get when they’re hungry. Thank God I have frozen pizzas. So much for the healthy dinner I didn’t really want to make anyway. Oh well.”
“Amanda,” he said.
She turned and squinted at his face, thankfully obscured by darkness. This didn’t feel right. He couldn’t tell her with them both naked. He definitely needed clothes for this. Maybe even a suit of armor.
“I think we’ll have to order something,” he said. “I saw the boys break into the pizza yesterday.”
“Those vultures,” she said.
avid blinked, and his alarm was going off the next morning. Friday had finally come, and he had chickened out again. If he had any doubt before, now he knew for sure… he was a coward. He had been too afraid to tell Amanda the truth for twelve years, and now he had run out of time.
He called Amanda before he even brushed his teeth. He had to get it done. Voicemail. He shouldn’t have felt so relieved.
“Hey, honey, I’m afraid I have to drive out to a job site this weekend. I would have given you more notice if I could. There were some serious problems with the construction of a subdivision in Conroe. Dangerous stuff, faulty wiring. I have to take care of it right away. I’m so sorry, honey. I’ll call you from the road. I love you.”
Liar, liar pants on fire. Amanda would have been pissed even if that story had been true. She didn’t like being stuck as the single parent for their three teenage children for a whole weekend. He grabbed the bag he had pre-packed, in case Amanda had kicked him out last night, and headed for the garage.
Of course, Amanda just happened to need the Expedition on today of all days. She must have needed to take Emmy or Patrick somewhere after school. Jude had taken his truck. David had no choice but to take the brand new Mercedes with its pristine silver paint. He needed the Expedition. He needed the room.
He needed the room.
His heart rate spiked, and he couldn’t breathe. Heart attack, maybe? Only a very dedicated coward could actually manufacture a heart attack to avoid what he feared. He had no chest pains, so, unfortunately, he must have been fine. Just panic. Wishing he had the car with more cup holders and a built-in Blu-ray player had made it real. He would return with two more children.
Texas seemed massive when driving three hyper kids to Schlitterbahn, but this time the state sped past him like Connecticut. The smaller the trees got, the more he panicked. After San Antonio, he felt like he’d entered a different planet. He had visited West Texas, of course. He’d driven the kids out to Big Bend several years back, but this time it felt more alien—―full of red rock and skeleton-like plants. The dry air chapped his lips, and the dust made his eyes itch. The road passed through nothing after nothing after nothing. In Houston, his family lived in the middle of a vast terrain of everything.
He had arranged to pick up his children at 10:00 a.m. the next morning, which meant he had a whole night to kill in Odessa. He wished he’d just left in the middle of the night so he would arrive exactly at ten and wouldn’t have to wait. He’d spent a good amount of his evening at Walmart, deciding whether or not to buy his children gifts, his stomach so knotted that his Dairy Queen dinner threatened to make a reappearance. Buying gifts and snacks for the drive did nothing but remind him that he didn’t know anything about his children except their names and ages. He didn’t even know his daughter’s birthday.
Crystal disappeared when she was pregnant with Evangeline, and Xavier had been just a toddler. David searched for them long after their disappearance became a cold case. He hired private investigators, even hackers. Based on what he found, Crystal never again paid taxes, had a job or paid bills of any kind. She didn’t give birth to Evangeline in a hospital, her children never went to school, and they had no medical records that could be found. And, if they had all died, he found no record of that either. They just didn’t exist anymore, as if his “other” family had been nothing but a figment of his imagination. The only thing that proved they ever existed at all was his grief, and even that had to be kept hidden.
avid arrived at the children’s shelter right on time the next morning. A ballerina-like young woman opened the door. and David couldn’t tell right away if she lived in the shelter
or worked there. While barely out of college, she managed to have the inviting quality of a grandmother. She wiped her fingers on a dishtowel she had tucked into her pants pocket and held out her hand to shake.
“Mr. Vandergraff?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m Shawna, associate shelter director. I’ll need to see some ID before I let you in. Standard procedure.”
David showed her his driver’s license, and she inspected it carefully.
“Come on in.”
The house smelled of bacon, and someone had turned the heater on too high. Halloween decorations filled the house, and children’s artwork lined the hallway. He felt bad taking them away. He’d known Shawna for about one minute, but this barely-out-of-college stranger already seemed more qualified to raise his kids.
She took him into an office with a fat orange cat sleeping on the desk. The room had an overpowering pumpkin pie-scented candle smell.
“We’ll have to work around Pablo. He never moves unless he wants to.”
She pulled out a thick stack of paperwork and asked for a second form of ID. He gave her his passport. She went over what the forms meant and pointed out the places he should sign. This reminded him of signing a mortgage.
“I’ll be sad to see them go,” she said. “They’re good kids. Haven’t caused any trouble.”
“What are they like?”
“Quiet. Sweet.”
“Can you give me any more to go on?”
She smiled. “Evangeline is a little more expressive. She has a lot of imagination, and she will talk to me a little bit. She doesn’t talk much to the other kids, but she does like to watch them play and talk to each other. She likes to draw and paint. But she doesn’t like to show me her artwork. She also draws elaborate designs on her skin with a ballpoint pen. Some of the other workers want her to stop, but I don’t see the harm. Xavier hasn’t said more than two or three words to me or the other children. Mostly, ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ ‘okay’. I see him talking to his sister sometimes, but he mostly keeps to himself. He watches movies a lot, but it doesn’t seem like he cares about them too much. My guess is that he just likes the excuse to sit quietly and not be disturbed.”
Destruction: The December People, Book One Page 1