Gifted Connections: Book 4

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Gifted Connections: Book 4 Page 2

by SM Olivier


  I carefully watched them sift their flour, and as predicted, most of it landed on top of the prep table as opposed to in the bowl.

  “How was the martial arts class?” Drake asked quietly as he made his way over to me.

  I knew that was his way of finding out how I was feeling today. Yesterday had been a bad day, and I spent most of it sleeping and studying for a few classes. He was my sensitive connection, with his light brown hair, swimmer’s body, and glasses that hid expressive, stunning, blue eyes.

  It had been a week since I started to lose my gift, and my body began betraying me. In those seven days, I had spent three of them in that condition. Not counting the two days I was in a near comatose state. On the days I was unable to do anything, it was Drake that made sure I had all my meals brought to me.

  “Great,” I answered him truthfully. “I stayed after a little while to get in some of my own training.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Drake smiled before squeezing my hand. Then he turned to the rest of the class. “All the ovens have been preheated to 350. Remember, if you were to bake this at home you would want to set the temperature of your oven before you do the mixing and such. You want that oven to be preheated before you put the cake in.”

  Drake turned back to me. “How were the students in the martial arts class?” He started to help one of the little boys pour some cocoa powder into a measuring cup.

  I wished I was able to use my gift. I really didn’t want to gossip about kids in front of the other kids. I grimaced. “Most of them seemed to enjoy it, but I knew a few of them would have loved to have slept in and enjoyed their vacation.”

  “Martial arts class was fun!” one of the boys stated loudly.

  Drake and I laughed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I commented.

  “Will we be getting uniforms and belts?” one of the girls asked hopefully.

  “Not sure,” I answered truthfully. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

  Her face fell, but she shrugged. “Oh, okay.”

  “What’s your plans after this?” Drake asked me once the kids got immersed into their baking again.

  “Shopping.” I rolled my eyes. “Jemmy, Sierra, Dawn, Rachel, and I are running into town to get some wrapping paper and such to start wrapping gifts.”

  The truth was I wasn’t terribly put out by it. We really did need the wrapping paper, and I had to swing by the post office to get Drake’s Christmas gift. I had finished his cookbook I had been working on. All of his recipes I could get my hands on I put on my laptop and then submitted it to a printing place. They had emailed me a few days ago confirming it had shipped, and I had just received the notification this morning that it was delivered.

  We had less than four days until Christmas, and I still had so much to do. My family of just me and Ella had grown since last Christmas. I now had over twenty people to shop for. Not everyone on my shopping list was getting anything huge or significant, by any means. We had gotten oversized stockings, and I was getting some of them just stocking stuffers.

  “I’m sure that was Jemmy’s idea,” Drake said dryly. The siblings were night and day. Drake was brilliant, a fantastic cook, and fundamentally introverted. Jemmy, on the other hand, was a subpar student, hated cooking or anything domestic, and was extremely extroverted.

  I laughed. “How’d you guess?”

  Honestly, it had been her idea. She would have preferred to have gone yesterday, but I couldn’t because of my stupid body, and because I didn’t want to go out twice before Christmas. I knew it would be a matter of time before Drake’s Christmas present came in. I had already talked to them after breakfast, and we had almost all the afternoon planned.

  “It was a given. I think we plan on taking the boys into town tomorrow for the same reason.” Drake smirked.

  I smiled at him as I helped one of the little ones crack an egg into a measuring cup. She had a lot of eggshells in the bottom of it, but it was a start. “They’ll probably like that. I’m starting to think they like shopping more than Ella and Nadia,” I stated. “Both of them showed no interest in coming along this afternoon.”

  He chuckled. “For now. Just wait until Jemmy continues sinking her claws into them, and by the time they become teenagers they’ll be begging to go every weekend.”

  I groaned. “I hope not. As it is, Ella’s been acting more like a cantankerous teen more and more each day.”

  “Do you think it’s because…” he paused and shifted uncomfortably.

  I didn’t need my gift to know he was referring to my birth mother, technically her aunt. After eighteen years I finally met my mother. She had given birth to Kade, Micah, Alex and me. She had just become part of our facility, and I truly believed it may have been one of the reasons why Ella was acting out. I still hadn’t told her that we were technically cousins, and I think she felt left out knowing the boys now had a mother—by blood, not actions—nearby.

  “It may be,” I explained quietly. “I already asked Megan to talk to her, because Ella refuses to talk to me, but I think she does feel left out. She lived with her uncaring mother for seven years, and now the boys may have an opportunity to start a relationship with their biological mom.”

  Drake’s brows knitted in concern. “Have you given it any more thought on when she can meet them? It’s been nine days since she came.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve talked to them. Kade doesn’t seem to mind. He had a loving mother for fifteen years and doesn’t know any better. I think he has put her in a category of her own, so he’s not seeking a true relationship from her. Micah shuts down every time I try to talk to him about it. He doesn’t want anything to do with her.” I looked around to make sure our little charges were still engrossed in their recipes. “He says Megan and I are enough female figures in his life and he doesn’t need another one. Alex is… well, Alex. He’s curious about her, but he’s probably going to do whatever Micah wants to do.”

  He nodded slowly. “Do you think it would help if I started to talk to them? I don’t want to push them, but I think it’s important if they deal with their emotions in a healthy way.”

  Drake had once pursued a degree working with troubled children and youth. I knew he had been close to finishing his degree when he chose to drop school altogether and pursue his dreams to become a cook. He would have been amazing in that field, but there was no denying that his passion was in the kitchen. He was in his element here.

  I nodded with a smile. “That may help. Ella is extremely receptive to Megan, but I don’t think it would hurt if you talked to her and the boys. Even Kade. He’s strong, but I still think he needs to know he can talk to any of us, not just me if he starts struggling with his feelings.”

  “I’m ready,” one of the little boys piped up.

  I looked down into his bowl and had to hide my smile. I could immediately tell something was off. It didn’t look like he had enough cocoa powder in there, and there definitely wasn’t any eggs. “How much cocoa powder did you add?” I started to grill him.

  He shrugged. “I dunno… enough.”

  I laughed. “Well, bud, I think we may have to start all over. Baking is like an art. If you don’t follow the recipes to a T, you may have a yucky cake. You don’t want a yucky cake do you?”

  He frowned. “No, but I really wanted to eat it soon.”

  I refrained from laughing once more. “If you do it right the first time, then you can eat it even faster. Want me to help you this time?” I asked gently.

  “Yes please,” he said in a defeated tone.

  “Ours is going to be the best,” I whispered conspiratorially to him.

  He gave me a broad smile showing me his two missing teeth up front; it was endearing.

  Chapter 2

  The girls and I were just heading out when I heard my name being called.

  “Blake!” I turned and nearly groaned when I saw Miranda, my biological mother, heading my way.

  It still felt surreal, her being here
. After eighteen years, thirteen of it believing she was dead, she now stood in front of me.

  “You don’t have to speak to her,” Jemmy said with a snort as she grabbed my arm.

  In truth, I had been avoiding her like the plague. I wasn’t emotionally ready to talk to her or even allow her to affect me more than she already had. I sighed deeply to myself. Maybe I wasn't fair to the kids. She seemed to have turned a new leaf. Thanks to her connection, Greg. I grudgingly respected him the more I got to know him.

  Greg was Will’s—aka Pops—former best friend and business partner. We recently found out Greg had faked his own death to get away from Horatio. If Pops was willing to forgive and even try to start a new relationship with his former friend maybe I could declare a truce. I didn’t have to respect the woman or like her, but perhaps the kids needed to see that people deserved second chances even if I wasn’t willing to give her one yet.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured. I didn’t fail to notice how my girls took a step behind me as if they were silently backing me up.

  I had seen Miranda trying to gain my attention during lunch, but I had ignored her.

  “What’s up?” I asked her as she neared.

  It was still unnerving to see how much we looked alike. Miranda had Bridgette when she was sixteen, and less than a year later she had me. Bridgett, my evil harpy sister, now thankfully resided in a top-secret compound and jail of sorts for the gifted. Even though our mother had been on drugs for most of her life, life had still been kind to her. She could easily pass off being another older sister rather than my mother.

  We were both around the same height and had the same unruly, dark curls, round face, and the same nose. Our differences were slight; I had green eyes, not hazel, and I was slightly more blessed in the breast and rear department.

  Right now she seemed terribly nervous. “I was wondering if I could finally see the boys and Ella, Andy’s little girl? Christmas is four days away, and we got them gifts. I would like to give them in person. If I could.”

  “Ella doesn’t know that we don’t share the same father,” I said coolly. “I would appreciate if you don’t bring it up to her yet.”

  She nodded in understanding.

  I wanted to tell her to buzz off. She didn’t need to be in their lives after abandoning them, but my heart told me that was selfish, that the children should have the opportunity to see her if they wanted to. Instead I nodded. “We are baking cookies on Christmas Eve and watching movies if you would like to come over, but if they don’t want to interact with you, I’m not forcing them.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “Really? Thank you, we’ll see you then.” She went to turn away but turned back around, uncertain once more. “Can we bring Harry? I mean, he is—” she began, but I held up my hands stopping her.

  “He can come too,” I stated before turning and walking away from her.

  Harry was yet another sibling of mine. He was three years old, and after being in his presence for less than thirty minutes, I knew he was different. Pops told us that the doctors had diagnosed him with severe autism, but Greg, Hazel, and Will believed he was gifted. They thought that he already was showing signs of being gifted and was trapped by it. A year ago, he had begun to speak and was completely healthy. Then a few months after he turned three, he became nonverbal, wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone, and randomly had ear-piercing meltdowns.

  I resented my biological mother, I even despised her, but I felt bad for my youngest sibling by blood. Even though I barely knew him, I honestly believed it was his gift that plagued him, too. If I could use my abilities, I’d like to see if I could ‘reach’ him somehow, someway.

  “Thanks, Blake,” she called tearfully to my retreating back.

  “I can’t believe you’re allowing her to see them on Christmas Eve,” Jemmy said sourly as I buckled up. “She abandoned them. She abandoned you.”

  I sighed, not in the mood for this discussion; I was struggling with it enough. “Miranda, unfortunately, is their mother. We are in a controlled environment. She’s been clean for four years now. Plus, it’s not like she can sneak off and get some drugs now. The kids need to reach their own conclusions about her without my feelings interfering with it. She’s here. She’s not leaving anytime soon, and I can’t continually keep them away from her…even if I think it’s best for them.”

  “Some people deserve second chances,” Sierra said quietly from the backseat. “My mother was an addict, too. Three years before she died, she wanted to create a relationship with me. My abuela begged me to at least talk to her. I never forgot what my mom did to me, to us, but I was glad that I forgave her. I’m glad I gave her a second chance. She had become a better person, and I never regretted getting to know her in the last three years of her life.”

  Sierra didn’t talk much about her parents. She spoke about her abuela a lot, and I knew she had been Sierra’s primary caregiver. I didn’t realize her mother had struggled with an addiction.

  From Jemmy’s expression, I figured she hadn’t divulged that information to her, either. Since making their connection with Gavin, she and Sierra were close. They were like best friends, sisters even, despite their many differences.

  Gavin was one of my best friends. He helped me get back to my guys after my sister Bridgette and Horatio (AKA my sperm donor) had gotten us separated. He was connected not only to my best friend Jemmy but Sierra as well, one of the girls we had rescued from Horatio’s nefarious facility. They had recently made their connection, although they hadn’t come out and told me; I suspected it—Jemmy had definitely gotten stronger with her gift.

  “I don’t know if she deserves a second chance,” Dawn said critically from the back seat as well. “Kicking a drug addiction is hard, and it’s not fair to the kids if they get attached to her if she decides to up and leave again.”

  “I thought when you made a connection, your connection could make you stronger?” Rachel chimed in. “Miranda never had Greg when she struggled with her addiction before. Maybe he can help hold her accountable. It’s not fair for the children not to have the choice, plus they should get the chance to know who their little brother is.”

  “Alex is too young to make a decision like that, and Ella’s not even Miranda’s,” Jemmy said mulishly.

  “Alex is far older than his years,” Sierra offered. “And if Kade and Micah can make a decision, he should be able to as well. He’s not a normal seven-year-old. He’s a talented seven-year-old that can hear other people’s thoughts and been able to jump with his siblings. Ella may not be hers, but she has the right to know her biological aunt if Blake thinks it’s okay and if Ella is willing to meet her.”

  “Have you talked to Pops about this?” Jemmy asked peevishly.

  I really didn’t think Jemmy’s reactions were based on only what was best for the children. I knew she loved them and was protective of them, but I also had a feeling this went deeper than she was implying. I had recently found out her father had committed suicide. Then her mother pretty much disowned Jemmy and Drake. She even signed over her rights to her children when they were ten and thirteen. Drake was just coming into his gifts, and his mother started putting him through medical and mental testing. She talked about sending him away to a school that could ‘help’ him, which had stressed Jemmy out to the point where she started to show signs of a gift as well.

  Luckily, one of the doctors they encountered was a close friend of Will and contacted him right away. Will had given Drake and Jemmy’s mom the opportunity to send them to his prestigious boarding school. After a year of freedom, she had signed over all her rights. She abandoned them.

  I think some of the resentment Jemmy felt towards her mother was transferred over to my current situation. I knew without a shadow of a doubt, if her mother were to show up tomorrow and ask to be a part of her life, Jemmy would laugh and walk away. She usually didn’t hold grudges and was quick to forgive, but her mother had done a number on her.

  “I ha
ven’t,” I began, and at her triumphant look, I continued. “Technically, I have guardianship over Ella now, Jace has Kade, Remy has Micah, and Jaxson has Alex. We really have the final say in their lives.”

  Judge Myers had suggested it would look better on paper if we separated their guardianships. It would appear unseemly for an eighteen-year-old girl to have the care of four minors on the records. We had given the boys the opportunity to decide who they wanted their guardians to be. Even though the boys cared for all my connections, Micah and Alex gravitated towards Remy and Jaxson the most, respectively.

  “And,” I continued. “Pops has been hinting at it for the last couple of days. I think he wants the kids to have supervised visits if they choose to, and if we decide that she’s not a danger to them, maybe even unsupervised visits eventually. It’s not like she lives in another house or another town, even. She lives a floor above us. She lives on your floor.”

  Jemmy looked peeved for a moment.

  “Oh, look they opened the new Sephora shop!” Rachel said brightly, giving me a conspiratorial wink.

  “Shut the front door!” Jemmy squealed excitedly. I guess for now she was dropping the subject.

  My first stop when we got to town was the post office. The town was more like a quaint village than an actual city. Only the Grocery store had a parking lot, and if you wanted to shop at one of the other stores available, you were quite limited in finding a spot. Most of the stores were locally and privately owned. Very few of the stores were ‘chain’ stores, like Sephora.

  We parked in the parking lot, and I noticed immediately that it was packed. It would be, four days before Christmas. The streets and sidewalks were alive with all the last-minute shoppers. I loved the ambiance of seeing the people bustling about with Christmas decorations everywhere. The middle of town even had a substantial, opulent Christmas tree the size of most of the buildings.

  “I need to go hit the post office,” I stated as I pulled my hat and gloves on.

 

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