by Mandy Rosko
The words said and the ones that weren't, kept Anne from opening her mouth again. If Mike's family wasn't comfortable with what they knew about, did that mean they weren't comfortable with him?
He stopped suddenly, looked around and cursed.
“What is it?”
“Everything’s different from what I remember. Haven’t been here in a while.”
She couldn’t help the tiny smirk. “That how you walked into a bar without realizing you’re in your old hometown?”
“Shut up.”
She raised her hands and stepped back. His voice didn’t hold much venom so her little catty grin couldn’t be helped. “Was only saying.”
He looked at her, shifted his feet and adjusted the Stetson on top of his head. “Sorry. Listen, if you’re coming with me you’re going to have some walking to do.”
She shrugged. “That’s fine. Where does your family live?”
“Elizabeth. Last I heard, my old man sold his ranch but I imagine the family still lives out in the open, away from town.”
Elizabeth was the new street that connected to the small two lane highway put in about five years ago. It was possible his family lived on it. “I know where is. We’re going the wrong way.”
Sunset Valley was small enough that getting to Elizabeth didn’t take too long at all. Anne hoped that Mike’s family didn’t live too far outside of town, though. Otherwise, she was going to suggest going back to the church to get a ride.
Elizabeth was indeed a long stretch of road and only some of it was new. It was put in to act as another way in and out of the small town, mostly just to connect it to the other little towns and ranches around it.
Anne could tell when they were leaving old Elizabeth by the way the grey road turned dark and new. It was like stepping out of the black and white Kansas and into the colorful Oz.
A line of asphalt separated the old from the new. Even the paint in the middle of the stretch was bright with youth. The little square houses, all of which needed either a new coat of paint or brand new roofs, turned into two story mini mansions with arched windows, new bricks and siding, and connecting garages.
As they walked farther and farther toward the edges of the town, there weren’t any more houses on one side of the road, as if they hadn’t been built yet.
Only one side of the road was decorated with nice, new houses, while the other was a long stretch of field.
Sunset Valley was small and didn’t bring in much money. Whoever decided to build these houses probably thought they’d be a nice touch for people who wanted to live in a quiet area and commute to the city.
Going by the kiddie pools, swing sets and mini vans, it had been a good idea.
Anne smiled. She hoped to one day have a few pups of her own who would laugh and play on a swing set.
“No, no. This can’t be right,” Mike muttered, turning his head about, searching for something.
Anne didn’t see anything wrong with the picture. They weren’t even outside of the town yet. “What’s wrong?”
Mike stopped walking. “This is the house.”
It was still a relatively new house, but there was no garage and, going by the slightly thinner shape, Anne was willing to bet there weren’t as many rooms inside. It was also the last house before the long stretch of road took over. Other than that, the only noticeable differences were the rose bushes that framed the red door.
“I didn’t think they…the least I expected was they’d still live in a place that had a barn in the back.”
Anne didn’t know what to say to that. He’d told her that his family sold their ranch. Judging by his expression, it was obvious he’d expected they had downgraded to something smaller rather than move to a suburb.
“Maybe it’s just a temporary place?” Yeah right. Because people just moved in and out of houses like these all the time.
Mike didn’t seem to think so either and shook his head. They moved up to the walkway and stood in front of the door.
Mike straightened his shirt and adjusted his hat. He was about to raise his hand to knock when a women opened the door first.
She had the face of a woman who would have been pretty had she not been spending her days chasing around toddlers instead of taking care of herself.
The boy in her arms looked like he’d been skating in spaghetti and he finger-painted tomato paste on her cheek and clothes. The bags under her eyes suggested she needed fifteen hours of sleep, and the way her dark blonde hair fell lank against her shoulders said she needed a hot bath first.
At the sight of Mike her eyes went wide and all traces of fatigue left her.
Mike's eyes were just as wide as hers as they stared at the child in her arms.
Without taking his eyes away from the boy, he said, "Hi, Kim."
"Michael."
He raised his hand to point at the child, who stopped smearing his mother's face with pasta sauce. "Is he—?"
"Mine, yes. Don't know why you're asking though."
Anne wished she knew what the source to all their stress was. They behaved as though they hadn't seen each other in years. Wait, Mike had said no one in his family was comfortable with him. Did his psychic powers cut him off from his family? Is that why this woman looked at Mike with such distrust?
Kim didn’t move out of the way to allow Mike and Anne entrance, nor did she attempt to greet him in a friendly manner. Her brown eyes, however, did move pastsed him to stare at Anne.
Mike turned and stared as well, as though he’d forgotten Anne was with him. "Uh, Kim, this is my wife, Annie."
"Oh." Kim reached her hand out and Anne shook it.
Kim only allowed one pump before letting go.
"Annie, this is my little sister."
Anne prayed her shock didn't show on her face. This woman did not look younger than Mike.
"Can we come in?" Mike asked.
Kim glanced behind her, as though searching for an excuse to either keep him out or let him in. Anne wished she were the psychic so she knew which was which.
"I guess it's okay. Mom and Dad are out." She stepped out of the way of the door but continued to eye Anne and her brother with distrust, as if daring them to enter.
Mike cleared his throat and stepped inside. Anne hesitated, tension crackled the air inside the small house like electricity and she didn't want to get blasted.
Mike took his shoes off and looked at her, still outside. "You coming?"
She sprinted past Kim, idiotically happy that he wanted her with him. "Right behind you."
Kim shut the door and the light from the sun vanished, leaving only the dim bulb above their heads. Anne’s body went on alert. A small space like this made for the perfect opportunity for a shadow to strike. It would be a weak shadow, but still …
"Shall we go into the kitchen?" Mike asked. He grabbed Anne’s hand and yanked her into the next room without an invitation.
Anne breathed again when the cramped space was behind her. The kitchen was on the far wall of the house, right in front, so there were windows on two walls that allowed the light to stream inside.
Kim, seemingly unaware of the stress, followed them before placing her toddler on the floor to crawl around.
The boy dragged himself to a pile of soft blocks under the table and began beating them against the floor.
Mike didn't take his eyes away from the child. "So, when did I become an uncle?"
Anne's heart lurched and she fell into a vat of embarrassment. This was why he didn't want her coming. He didn't want to have any awkward, private conversations while she was in the room.
Anne knelt down next to the boy, handed him a red block and tried to make herself look small and invisible while she played with him. Kim hovered, keeping a watchful eye on Anne as she played with the boy.
"Ten months ago. His name is Jax."
Anne wasn’t watching him but she heard Mike tapping his fingers against the marble kitchen counter. She waited for him to say something, m
ake some remark as to why no one bothered to tell him that he was an uncle.
Finally, he said, "Is he—?"
"No, thanks to you. You were right, Stan took off after ..." She stopped talking. The bitterness in Kim's voice seemed directed at her brother instead of Stan for whatever it was he did.
Though, it wasn’t hard to guess.
The guy was likely the father of the cute little boy on the floor with her. A love ‘em and leave ‘em type who was easy to keep when times were good but impossible to stay when things went wrong. Like unplanned pregnancy.
Possibilities added up while Anne helped Jax to build a little block tower. If Stan was just some guy who wanted a piece of tail, and Mike knew about it because of his ability to read minds, then surely his sister wouldn't appreciate being told that her boyfriend was a scumbag.
“I’m sorry, I really am, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Do you really want to do the whole I-told-you-so’s? If so, you can get the Hell out.”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
Shit. Argument coming. Anne smiled at Jax, handed him another block, and decided she would pretend to be deaf.
“This is all your fault anyway.”
Anne sneaked a peek and saw Mike’s eyes go as round as a full moon. “My fault?”
“Telling a young girl that the man she loves is a bad boy doesn’t make her want to ditch him. I dated him just to prove you wrong. When you told me he’d leave if I ever got pregnant—”
“I said when you got pregnant, not if.”
“—I went on the pill, made sure he wore condoms, all that. And you know what, you were wrong, I didn’t get pregnant.”
Anne could feel Mike’s anger rising. “Not right away from the looks of it, and Stan was a bad boy idiot. Let me guess, Macho Man didn’t like how the rubbers felt so he convinced you that going without them a few times would be fine.”
Kim’s voice rose along with her brother’s. “Doesn’t matter because you were wrong.”
“I was not wrong, Kim. You still eventually got pregnant and he still left you.”
“He left me because you freaked him out. Said he didn’t want any baby of his to be a demon child.”
“That was just an excuse, Kim. He would’ve left you anyway.”
Kim’s voice became as shaky as her hand at her throat. “Jax is perfect.”
“I can see that he is.” Mike’s voice was soft, filled with yearning and sadness.
“He’s not going to be like you. He won’t have what you have.” Silence stretched, as though Mike were contemplating whether or not he should speak. “Say he does—”
“He won’t.”
“But, let’s just say he does. Will you disown him as your son like you, mom and dad disowned me?”
Kim’s lips thinned.
The door opened and shut again. Anne tensed, ready to spring to defend herself in case the enemy found them. Mike did the same. Her hearing detected no thick robes flapping around the small space, no slam of the door, but they did pick up the sound of a hand leaning against the wall while whoever it was kicked off shoes.
"Kim?" The voice that called was obviously welcome.
"In here."
Mike's body didn't unwind and his eyes rounded into golf balls when a kid with a backpack slung over his shoulder stepped into the kitchen with them.
He couldn't have been older than sixteen. A mop of chestnut hair stuck out in all directions on top of his head, a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans that were at least three times too big for him with a small chain hanging out of his pocket gave evidence of this.
Uncaring of the guests, he reached over Anne's head for the bowl of apples on the counter and plucked one out for himself. He finally looked down at her when he had his prize.
"Hi," he said, taking a bite.
He looked up at Mike, repeated the greeting, and took two steps out of the kitchen and stopped. He swiveled on the heel of his heavy hiking boots and stared at Mike, who stared back unflinchingly.
Anne couldn't tell if the boy was in shock or fear until his mouth cracked upward into a relieved grin. Mike stood up as the boy stepped forward and they hugged like long lost brothers.
"I didn't recognize you!"
Mike slapped his back. "Good to see you, Bud."
Wow. They really were long lost brothers.
Bud looked down at Anne with a new interest. He threw his bitten apple onto the counter, wiped the juices from his hand on his shirt, and presented it for her to shake. "Good to meet you. I'm his brother," he said it like the fact made him proud.
Anne liked him already. She shook his hand fervidly even though it made her fingers sticky. "Nice to meet you, too."
"Bud, this is my wife, Anne."
Bud's face dropped at the word wife, but he controlled himself and returned to grinning. "How long are you staying for?"
"He was just leaving," Kim interrupted.
Bud rolled his eyes, his face twisting to annoyance. "Will you give it a—"
“I said no!” Kim snapped. Jax’s bottom lip started to twitch and shiver. Anne grabbed a handful of blocks and crashed them together.
The small explosion of noise and color brought a smile to Jax’s face.
"Actually, she's right. I can't stay. I should go before mom and dad come back," Mike said, likely thinking of the danger that Hadrian still posed.
Even if the warlock wasn’t a threat, would their reaction to Mike be anything like Kim's?
Anne got up from the floor, signaling that she was ready whenever he was. They’d been inside barely ten minutes and she was ready to get out.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Bud. His face dropped like he’d just been told his dog died. "You can’t leave me already. You just got here."
Anne blinked but said nothing. Kim picked up her son, not looking at either brother.
Mike folded his arms loosely over his chest. "I know, I know. I just wanted to check in, make sure that you're all okay. I'll keep in touch if you want me to."
Bud’s face hardened. "Duh. My e-mail address didn't change in the last five years."
Anne wished she could be as capable of putting such a warm smile on Mike's face as his brother seemed to be. Their exchange was the only bit of warmth to be found in the cold house.
Mike recited his phone number and his brother wrote it on his hand with a pen from his pack. Then he and Bud exchanged one last hug and slapped each other's backs a bit with vows to keep in touch before he and Anne left the little house. Bud stood in the doorway, watching them leave with sad eyes.
Anne couldn't keep her questions to herself. "You haven't seen your family in five years?"
He nodded. "Bud was almost eleven when I was officially kicked out."
“Officially?”
He nodded. “When I was sixteen I was run over by Mrs. Jacobs’ truck. Bud was just born, anyway, she was in her seventies, probably dead now. But, when she hit me she panicked and hit the gas. Ran me right down.”
The blood drained from Anne’s face. “That’s…how could you survive that?”
Mike shrugged. “Don’t know. Should’ve died, especially since my head bashed into the asphalt pretty bad.” He took off his Stetson and tilted his head. “Have a look.”
Anne wasn’t sure if she wanted to, but curiosity took hold. Hesitantly, she reached her hands into his dark, thick hair. She moved around the strands and frowned.
“I don’t see anything.”
“It’s right here.” He reached his own hand into the locks, found her fingers and guided them to the spot about two inches above his ear.
Anne’s fingers brushed against it first. The scar felt like a long bump in his skin. She hissed when she saw it, her fingers jerking away.
“I know. Not exactly pretty.”
“That’s not why I did that.” Shit. She didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle seeing a scar. Even though it was long, pink, jagged thing on his head. “It’s jus
t that…for a second, I thought it would hurt touching it.”
Mike straightened and put his hat back on. He smiled and Anne was relieved. “The accident was too long ago. Just another part of my body now.”
Anne bit her lip. “So, when you woke up, you could hear people’s thoughts?”
He scratched his forehead with his thumb. “Kind of. Mostly I see what’s in their heads rather than hear it. Kept it to myself for a while. My parents thought to set me up with a psychiatrist at first. Wasn’t until I freaked the guy out and he quit that everyone started to believe I could get into their heads, see some of their private memories.”
It still didn’t seem like a valid excuse to send him away. “That’s why you left?”
He nodded. “Stuck around for a bit first. For my sister, then Bud.”
Anne examined his face, searching for any sign that he regretted his situation, mourned the loss of a relationship with a brother who obviously adored him.
All that was there was a calm resignation, as though he’d adjusted to the idea that he was no longer a part of that family.
“So, you see other people’s thoughts and memories?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Not your own?” She couldn’t keep the hope out of her voice.
He looked at her. “I don’t think it applies to me, seeing as how I already know everything about myself. Then again, no one ever tried to kill me for potentially being something even I didn’t know about.”
He might as well have lifted his giant booted foot and squashed her hope like a bug. Why did he have to say that?
“What’s the matter?” He stopped walking and took her arm. “You alright?”
She forced a smile, eager to change the subject. “Just thinking about a few things. From what you were saying in there, I got the feeling that Stan was a dirt bag."
Mike's lips quirked. They started walking again. "Still is, from what I was seeing."
"You were watching your sister's thoughts?"
He shrugged. "She already considers me out of the family, not like there's anything I can lose by doing it. Anyway, when I told her all he wanted was tail, she wouldn't believe me.