Neveah Box Series (Neveah Box Set Book 5)

by Angie Merriam

  She was beautiful, her face void of the worries that had plagued her adult life. There was an undeniable love for the artist reflected in her eyes. I felt tears creeping into my eyes, and I tried to push them back. The next painting, though, it brought the tears in full force the moment I looked at it. It was my mother and me, home in Keno. It was a complete re-creation of our trailer and the towering trees that surrounded it. We were standing in the garden together. The painted expressions showed that we were laughing. I remembered that day vividly. I let my mind wander back in time.

  My mother decided to plant radishes that year. After harvesting most of the garden and taste testing the veggies as we always did, I came upon the radishes. Without thinking, I took a rather large bite of one, and spit it out at once. I had never eaten one, and my taste buds were in shock. One look at my face and my mother began to laugh uncontrollably. I was soon laughing as well, and my mother promised never to plant radishes again.

  The memory made me smile through the tears. I studied the painting closer and realized there was a man in the trees, watching us. It was my father. The thought of him watching us as an outsider for so many years made me sad for him. This painting really depicted his life after my mother left Neveah, always on the outside looking in. I was grateful he had at least been able to peek into our lives, though, even if we didn’t get to know he was there.

  Aldon had been watching me, clearly pleased that he had chosen to bring me these things. He also brought me a few odds and ends, an angel statue, his painting supplies and some blank canvas. He and my mother were perfect for each other, artistic, kind, and loving. I felt some comfort knowing they were together now, even if they were not with me. “Thank you for bringing me these things, Aldon, they mean a lot to me.” I smiled at him and wiped the tears from my face.

  “I thought you would like them. He also left a will that he instructed me to bring to you and your mother, should anything ever happen to him,” he said and handed me the piece of paper. I read over it multiple times, trying to convince myself what I was reading was true.

  “Is this for real?” I asked Aldon.

  “Yes, Lilly. Your father used his healing abilities here in the Ordinary World. He had built the reputation of a well-respected physician, having healed so many Ordinaries. He stopped practicing a few years back. He found it harder and harder to go very long without seeing you and your mother. He made enough money during his years in practice that the work was no longer a necessity. Most of what he made was put into a savings account. The condo he owned has been sold and the profit has been added to your balance. You should be set for life if the money is handled correctly.” Once he finished, he sat back and sipped his drink. It was obvious a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He seemed relieved to have all the words spoken.

  “Wow, three million dollars? I don’t know what to say.” I was in shock. I had no idea my father had posed as a doctor here, though I guessed it shouldn’t surprise me, he was a healer after all.

  “Just let me know where you would like the money transferred. The process will take a few days,” he informed me. I didn’t even have a bank account.

  “I need to open an account,” I said, and he nodded his head. The next day he went with me to open an account at a bank in town and transferred the money. I was given options of where to keep the money. I put fifty thousand dollars in my new checking account and the rest in CDs that would accrue enough interest for me to live on. I left the bank breathless yet accomplished. I invited Aldon for dinner that night, but he declined.

  “I have so much to thank you for. Dinner is the least I could do,” I reasoned with him.

  “Thank you, Lilly, but I must be moving on. I have done what I was asked to do. It is time for me to decide what to do with the last years of my life. I have spent so many years watching Jax’s every move, helping James, trying to protect people from my own son. I am tired now and a little sad. I need to find a way to get past the last nineteen years. I have to find a way to be happy.” He was teary eyed as he spoke, and I felt bad for him.

  “Will you keep in touch? You are going to be a great grandfather after all.” I patted the tiny pooch in my belly.

  “Of course, Lilly, I just need some time,” he said.

  “I understand. Thank you.” I hugged him tightly.

  “You’re welcome. Take care of yourself, Lilly.” He walked to his car and was gone within minutes.

  Over the next few weeks, I began to settle into Newberg. On the Fourth of July, Shep’s dad came to visit. He BBQ’d while I set off a few fireworks. I gave him a tour of Newberg, and he seemed to enjoy himself. When he left I began nesting a little more. I hung my parents’ artwork throughout the house and filled a scrapbook with photos. I was sad to realize I didn't have a photo of my father. I was worried I would forget his face and decided to paint him. It only took me a few hours to paint my father’s lovely face. I was grateful that my memory hadn’t failed me. I loved the way the painting turned out and framed it, hanging it next to various photos of my mother and me.

  I spent many days exploring Newberg and the surrounding little towns that made up Yamhill County. The landscape was breathtaking. Rolling hills were freckled with miles and miles of grapevines. The land around the vines was lush and green and crowded with trees and shrubbery. I loved getting lost on those back roads, taking in the land around me. I spent hours down by the river. I always found peace near the water. I would watch the boaters until dark when I would finally make my way home. I also spent a lot of time wandering the land around the house which was never in short supply of surprises. I had gotten used to the animals and enjoyed their company.

  I took hundreds of photos, painted a dozen paintings, and drew heaps of drawings. I spent a small fortune at the local Walgreens developing my film. I chose a handful of photos that I thought were really beautiful, enlarged them, and framed them in lovely frames. I framed a few of my paintings as well and took the paintings and photos to a few of the local businesses that I had found and thought were wonderful. One was a great little red house, turned coffee shop, which housed the art of many local artists and brewed the best cup of coffee I had ever tasted. They were kind enough to let me hang a few of my pieces there, and I hung a few at the little bookstore/coffee shop in town. I spent hours in that store, lost in books and the scent of coffee and pastries.

  I didn’t expect to sell any of the pieces and was more than a little surprised when the owner of the bookstore called to let me know that there was a check waiting there for me. All of my art had been sold, and they wanted more. Before long, my art was steadily selling, and I was making enough that I didn’t have to touch my bank account.

  My art was selling very successfully, when the owner of the little red coffee shop suggested I speak to a friend of hers, an owner of an art gallery. The gallery was in Portland and specialized in showcasing local artists, with great success. I was highly flattered that she considered my work good enough to be displayed in an actual gallery, but didn't call the lady right away. I wasn't quite that confident in myself yet.

  After a few days of deliberating with myself, I called the gallery owner. “Why not give yourself a chance, you have nothing to lose,” I told myself before finally making the call. The next day I was on my way to downtown Portland.

  The city was breathtaking. Clusters of buildings kissed the sky while one side of the city hugged the side of a mountain and the other rested beside a beautiful river. Bridges connected the two sides of the city, each with its own distinct design. I was in awe of the enormity of the city and made a mental note to return to explore the streets sometime.

  The gallery was the first two floors of an old warehouse and displayed the most beautiful works of art I had ever seen. The first floor showcased paintings and photographs while the upstairs showed off dozens of magnificent sculptures. I shrank into myself slightly as I wandered the gallery. I couldn't imagine my art being displayed next to the wonderful creations of
that place.

  The gallery owner was a neatly dressed woman, with flawless skin, and cropped white hair. She gave me a tour of the gallery, explaining different works of art. I was mesmerized by the displays. After the tour she told me she was interested in my work, much to my surprise, and inquired on my availability to hold an exhibit. I was stunned and extremely humbled. The excitement was overwhelming as I pictured my artwork on display in such a beautiful gallery.

  I graciously turned her down, for the time being. I promised to return once I had my baby and more work to display. She was a bit disappointed in having to wait, but she understood and shook my hand when I left. I drove Shep's truck home to Newberg with a lighter feeling in my heart. I was building my own life, paving my own way, and realized I was truly happy. My heart still ached for Shep, but I found happiness through the pain.

  The summer had been scorching. When the nights grew cooler and the leaves began to change, I was relieved. My pregnancy was more obvious now, and it seemed my body temperature ran warmer than usual.

  My summer wardrobe was dwindling as my waist expanded. The cooler weather was perfect timing. I would only have to buy maternity clothes for one season. I may have been secure where money was concerned, but I was raised a simple girl, and I intended to stay that way.

  The summer was beautiful, but when fall set in and the leaves began to change, the landscape turned into a patchwork quilt of multiple colors. I was in constant awe of the beauty. The weather was cool and crisp, and the gold and red leaves left me mesmerized every time I stepped out of my front door. I always thought Keno was the most gorgeous place on Earth, but that was before I came to Newberg. This place ran a close second to Neveah, whose beauty was otherworldly and almost seemed unreal. I often felt I was lost in a fantasy when I drove through the lands of Yamhill County.

  By October, I was very obviously pregnant. I finally broke down and picked up some maternity clothes at the thrift store in town. When I felt the baby move, I decided it was time to see a doctor. The doctor was in shock to hear this was my first appointment and chastised me slightly for not coming in sooner. I told her I was healthy, ate well, exercised and didn’t feel the need to see the doctor until now. I had an ultrasound that confirmed a healthy baby boy. She told me I was five months along and gave me a due date of February first. I was to see her monthly for the next three months, and then I would see her weekly until the baby came. I felt confident and at ease having a plan in place.

  Over the next few months, I began to get ready for my baby. I took a small chunk of money from my savings and turned the room closest to mine into a nursery. I painted the room a light blue and bought cherry oak furniture. I found matching bedding and curtains with cute little bears and a matching mobile. I filled the drawers with little clothes and blankets and placed a picture of Shep and me on top.

  I read one parenting book after another, each saying something a little different. I took bits and pieces of each and tucked the knowledge away for a later date. At night, I read to the baby, or played soft music for him. Sometimes I would just talk to him. I told him stories of his grandparents and the wonderful land of Neveah, and I told him stories of his father. When I spoke of Shep, he would move excitedly in my belly. The feeling was amazing, and I loved watching the skin of my belly stretch and roll as he moved and kicked.

  Sometimes sadness overtook me when I found myself wishing my mother could be with me. I so badly wanted to share my pregnancy with her. Other times I would cry for Shep. I missed him so, and the hole inside my heart had yet to heal, but I had this baby to care for and knowing that kept me grounded and out of a dark depression.

  In spite of the pain of losing my mother and father, and the desertion of Shep, I was happy in Newberg and excited to meet my baby. I went to sleep every night praying for Shep to come back and woke every morning with a heavy feeling, knowing he wasn’t there. I had to move on, though, if not for me, then for our child. I wondered where he was, what he was doing, why he left, and every time our child moved inside me, I was sad for Shep. Sad because I was blessed to feel this life growing, a product of our love, and he was missing it.

  At times, I thought of myself as a coward. Thought I should have stayed and searched and fought for him, but I couldn’t. I had another life to consider, and Shep had made his choice. I just prayed he would come to his senses and come home to me. I also hoped it wouldn’t take much longer. The longer he was gone the duller the pain became. I was afraid that if he was gone too long the pain would dissipate, and my want and need for him would fade away with the pain.

  By Thanksgiving, I had successfully built a life in Newberg. My art was selling steadily, and though I had no real friends, I had a few acquaintances I would chat with at the bookstore. The town’s people were friendly, and I felt as though I belonged. As each day passed I became stronger, independent, and the frequent tears tapered down. Before long, the sharp edge of pain that tore through my heart was dulling, and I was more and more content in my life. I still missed my mother, but I didn't dwell on her death. I learned to celebrate her life through my art. I missed Shep still, and had vivid dreams of him, but he no longer haunted my waking moments. On Thanksgiving, I cooked a small dinner for myself and gave thanks for what I did have instead of dwelling on what I had lost.

  It was nearly Christmas, and the rain had been a constant presence for months. I was not a big fan of the rain and missed the snow greatly. I told myself the rain was the reason I was able to bask in the beautiful landscape, yet I found it increasingly difficult to find reasons why the rain was a necessity. My belly was swollen beyond recognition, and sleep was hard to come by. I woke daily feeling pissed off at something, though the source couldn’t be pinpointed. I had the baby’s nursery complete, all it needed was him.

  I was too tired to go into town with new artwork, so I stayed in that house, alone, bored, and bitter. The hurt of Shep’s betrayal was fading. The hole in my heart was still there, but the longer he stayed away, more anger and resentment filled in the hole.

  Christmas was always my favorite holiday, and I was sad to have to spend it alone. I had asked Shep’s dad to come up, but he couldn’t get the time off, and I told him I understood. I also invited Aldon Androni, who politely declined as well. It was sad to think I had no other friends or family in this world. For the first time, I started to regret coming back. It was Christmas Eve, and I was sitting and admiring my tiny tree. I was proud of the little tree I bought and decorated by myself. I was treating myself to some sparkling cider and contemplated opening the one gift that was under the tree. The baby had been still that day, but I had passed it off as him getting his days and nights mixed up. I decided to open that one gift. I remembered picking it up, and then the world went away.

  ~Chapter Six~

  Kelsha was pleased with the simplicity of gathering the Specials in Antiope. Most had pledged to follow her without questioning her story. She had been a loyal leader to them for many moons, and they had no reason to question her authority now. Though some were shocked to hear that it was, in fact, the Levannahs who were initiating a war, not Jax. She spun the same story he had. “The Levannahs want a perfect world, one free of misfits and monsters. If a Special didn’t fit with their idea of perfection, they must be done away with. They considered her a traitor and would stop at nothing to see her dead.” Her little speech had been powerful.

  Only two moons passed before Antiope was deserted and the compound and surrounding land was populated. In Antiope, Kelsha would occasion the bed of Heren. The two had grown up together, and Heren made it his duty to see her safe. He was built like a mountain with muscles stacked upon muscles. He kept his head free of hair, and his gray eyes could bore into your mind, erasing all memories and feelings of the past. He was a wondrous man, both mentally and physically. Kelsha found his undying allegiance to her endearing and used it to her advantage. She was fond of his body, and the way her skin tingled at his touch made him the perfect bed companion. In sp
ite of his amazing gift and beautiful body, he was extremely daft. Another trait Kelsha found helpful, he wasn’t smart enough to question her motives. Nor was he smart enough to calculate the math when it came to her pregnancy.

  She had been with Heren weeks before Jax came to her looking for Lilly. She knew, beyond a doubt, that the baby she carried was Jax Banes, yet Heren was quick to accept paternity of the child. This made Kelsha’s life much less complicated. Had the citizens known she had been sharing Jax’s bed for so long, they may have been reluctant. She would have convinced them nonetheless, but it would have been more work. Having Heren believe he was the father was perfect. He shared a bed with her nightly now, and promised to join with her as soon as the Levannahs were defeated.

  The only living souls that knew the true paternity of her baby were the five Specials Jax had left behind. He had frightened them terribly, and they found Kelsha to be a breath of fresh air. They followed her obediently and agreed to keep her secret. The five of them knew a war was brewing. They knew they would need a small army to defeat the Levannahs. They also understood why the residents of Antiope would be weary of a child who was genetically part of Jax Bane. Danu had become her eyes and ears of the water creatures, and the stout little man with his large companion gladly took the duty of guarding Kelsha. Maura had taken a liking to Danu and spent many hours waiting at the shoreline for him. Fionna was content with babysitting Shep. Kelsha couldn't have been more pleased.

  It was Heren's love and devotion to Kelsha that led to Shep’s new life. Kelsha didn’t have to say much to convince Heren to erase Shep’s memory. “He was in love with Lilly, granddaughter of the Levannahs. He has knowledge of wars and would be a useful soldier.” She was prepared to go on, spin the story her way in order to convince him. She didn’t have to.