by Rayns, Lisa
“Nothing,” I said. “I think the not working is getting to me. Thank God I can go back tomorrow.”
She rubbed my shoulder with her hand, appearing unsure of how to continue. Our relationship had never quite been as close as she wanted it because I rarely felt my age. When I was little, she used to make jokes about me reading to myself instead of letting her read to me. After a while, she accepted it but she still tried to go the extra mile whenever I was sick or particularly vulnerable.
“Honey, if something’s bothering you, I’m here. Let’s talk about it.”
“Do I have to wait all night to eat? I’m starving here,” my dad called up the stairs.
“Start without us!” Vera yelled back.
“I have a date,” I confessed, hoping the interruption along with a change of subject would be enough to make her forget what I’d said.
“Really? That’s wonderful.” She clapped her hands in front of her body, cheering me on just as I’d imagined her doing if she had caught Draven in my room three nights ago. “You must just have a case of the jitters.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “That must be it.”
My mother shut the light off when she left.
I closed my eyes but I couldn’t sleep. “Have you ever thought about marriage?” Draven’s words bounced around in my mind, inhibiting my thought process. If that had been a ploy to distract me from my questions, it had worked. But he couldn’t have meant it, I decided.
I finally started to drift off about midnight. My thoughts rambled aimlessly to the time when I was five, and I silently wished for a Swan Queen in Swan Lake Barbie doll. My parents had been so busy setting up their accounting firm that I hadn’t wanted to bother them with the request, but it appeared under my bed the next morning to everyone’s surprise. My parents had both thought the other bought it and didn’t want to admit to spending the money.
Another time when I was ten, I’d wished for a laptop so I could start writing poetry. It appeared again. Had he and his gift been here my whole life? At the thought, I dragged myself awake, feeling alarmed.
Had everything I’d ever wanted been only a wish away? Was he my fairy godfather? Suddenly, I realized there were other little things that I’d wished for that had just magically appeared under my bed––comfortable shoes, an umbrella––things I’d just made offhand comments about in my head but never really contemplated getting.
I felt confused, mystified, and a little angry with Draven but two solid conclusions brought me to grips with the unexplained occurrences: He was a mind reader and either a thief or a magician, maybe both. I didn’t think I would be able to get back to sleep after the realization but my eyelids tugged themselves closed until I did.
The next morning I picked up the necklace case to put it into my purse so I could return it on Friday, but it was heavier than it should have been. I slowly opened the lid, finding the necklace inside along with a note that read: It belongs to you.
From the minute I woke up on Friday morning, the day hinted at disaster. I slapped the snooze button, and my alarm clock tumbled to the ground where it broke to pieces. Since I had to get up earlier than usual, my shower was cold because my parents always took marathon showers. While making breakfast, I burnt my toast and spilled my orange juice all over the table. The day being the thirteenth had nothing to do with my bad luck.
I never dreamt my first date would make me feel so nervous and distracted. My brain stayed on autopilot while my real thoughts were on what I would wear, what he would say to me, my first real kiss…
The kiss actually consumed nine-tenths of my mind. I knew it would be magical, and I’d already planned to use it as a muse for several stories so my expectations were high. My bubble of anticipation finally burst when my cell phone rang.
“Why haven’t you called me?”
“I’ve been busy. I was sick, and I’ve had a lot of homework to catch up on.” I was secretly glad Tina called today of all days so I didn’t miss the opportunity to rub my date in her face.
“Well, I’m really happy that you haven’t been arrested.”
Sure she was.
“Actually, the necklace belonged to his great grandmother,” I lied. “He’s taking me out tonight.” The silence and the click on the line were so musical that I actually hummed as I closed my phone and pulled open the heavy glass door at the bank.
“How can I help you today?” the teller asked. Her brown hair stood up in a puffy eighties hairstyle as she smiled at me.
“Hi…Janet,” I read the nametag on her gray suit. “I checked my account online. There’s been a mistake.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, appearing politely apprehensive. When I handed her the bank statement I’d printed off, she typed my account number into the computer. “Oh, wow! That’s quite a deposit. How in the world did that happen?”
I smiled. “That’s sort of what I’m wondering. Could you check into it please? I don’t want to be arrested.”
“Of course!” she exclaimed, nodding with concern. “Just let me check with the manager.”
“Thank you.”
My cell phone rang again, and the unknown caller display made my stomach twist into knots. Please don’t cancel. “Hello,” I said calmly.
“Hello, Miss Tarkson?”
“Yes,” I said, surprised to hear a female voice on the line.
“Hello! My name is Calista Jones. I’m an editor for Romance Today.” The woman’s voice was irritatingly bubbly for eight a.m. “First, I want to say congratulations on winning first place in our young reader’s writing contest. I loved your short story and your unique writing style. We’ll be publishing it in next month’s issue. You’ve also won a thousand dollars and a referral to our sister company, a novel publisher, when you finish your first book. All I need for you to do is sign the release forms.”
Another error! The day was taking a turn for the worse before I even made it to the date. I could only hope it wasn’t an omen. I cleared my throat, still irritated. “There has to be some mistake. I didn’t send a story in to––”
“If There’s Love. That isn’t your story?”
Shock jolted through me at the mention of my last month’s assignment. “It is but I didn’t send it in to a magazine, or a contest, or anywhere.”
“I see. Well, somebody did and you’ve won! When you find out who it was, be sure to thank them. It’s quite an honor, and that’s quite a lot of money that I suspect will help with college. Your name has already been published online as the winner.”
When I saw Janet heading toward me, I grew anxious. “Can we talk about this later?”
“Oh, how about I just send the paperwork?” she asked, insistence in her motherly voice.
Completely flustered, I worked my bottom lip between my teeth. Who could have sent my story in? And how did they get a copy of it? A handsome man with dark hair came instantly to mind, but I pushed the thought away quickly. I had other things to worry about. “Fine,” I finally muttered. “Do you have my address?”
“Of course. It came in with the submission.”
When I closed my phone, Janet said, “I’m sorry, Miss Tarkson.”
“What now?” I asked, trying but failing to hide my annoyance.
“My manager took care of this transaction himself. There’s no mistake.”
My composure snapped like a rubber band, and I leaned across the counter, growling angrily in a low voice. “Are you trying to tell me that I deposited a hundred thousand dollars into my account on my birthday?”
“No ma’am,” she said quickly, shaking her head as her eyes widened. “The deposit was anonymous.”
****
I had only planned to take the morning off from school, but I didn’t go at all. I couldn’t. I felt too distraught to think about college.
Instead, I went to the zoo. It was a hundred degrees but a light breeze blew off the duck pond to cool my bare arms. Feet flat, arms folded, I sat unmoving as I watched the swans d
ipping their whole heads into the water when people threw them corn. That’s what I felt like doing, submerging my head, burying it in the sand while people called me names for taking money from a strange man.
I hadn’t wish for it. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want anything that I didn’t deserve. Little things like soup and shoes were one thing, but this was a hundred thousand dollars! For hours, I tried to consider what it meant while sweat beaded on my forehead. Did he think that if he gave me all that money, I would just quit school like he wanted? Did he think I owed him? Did I owe him?
Answers were scarce, and I’d gone numb hours ago. The attendants ushered me out the gates at closing time so I sat down on a bench in the parking lot still staring off into space. When the sun went down, I heard someone sit down beside me but I couldn’t break free of my sulking to glance over.
“You take things much too seriously, Elizabeth.”
“Did you think I wanted that money? Are you a thief?”
“I most certainly am not, and I resent that remark.”
“Pfft. Like I care.”
“Look at me.”
My eyes rolled over to him against my will. A few random streetlights lit the empty parking lot, but the two strobe lights by the entrance of the building framed his face. Even thought it was creased with lines of distress, he was so handsome, I couldn’t look away. And I did care, whether or not I would admit it. I wanted to lean into him and share my grief.
“You’re looking at this the wrong way.”
“Oh, yeah? How exactly should I look at it?”
He leaned closer to me, warming my body even though he didn’t touch me. “Consider this, what’s mine is yours.”
“Why?” I whispered.
“Just accept the gifts, Elizabeth,” he groaned. “I want nothing in return.”
“Are you a thief?” I asked again.
“I told you no. Try to think about something else. We’re on a date, and I want you to enjoy yourself. Where would you like to go first?”
Enjoy myself? I suddenly considered the possibility that a conspiracy theory was at work in the universe.
“Yes, enjoy yourself.”
I stared at him, long and hard. “That is so freaky.”
He frowned. “Let’s go out. I promised you a date.”
“I don’t much feel like it right now,” I said with a sigh.
“Money depresses you this much?”
“You can’t buy me!” I demanded, finding a little bit of strength. The words felt good coming out of my mouth like they’d been pent up all day and had finally found a way to escape. I crossed my arms but the motion made me acutely aware of a harsh sunburn so I returned them to my lap, ignoring the pain it caused.
“Soup is all right but a little bit of cash gets you bundled in knots.”
“A little bit?” I asked unbelievably.
He stood up to pace in front of me. “There will come a time when you will have to accept that you are special. You are special to me.”
“I’m not that special. Take your money back.”
“I won’t.”
“Should I give it away then?”
“If it brings you happiness,” he said, “or…you could reconsider your future.”
“No!” I spat, outraged that he could remain so calm while discussing such a serious amount of money.
Draven shook his head. “So you want to spend the next two years hiding in a school and working constantly but what if…what if two years is all you have left?”
Sucking in my breath, I looked up at him. He had stopped pacing and stared at me, a serious look encasing his features.
“Why would I only have two years left?”
“Would you still choose your plan?”
“I don’t know,” I replied warily. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Think about it, Elizabeth.”
I filled my lungs with air and exhaled slowly in hopes of calming my frayed nerves. I counted to ten. And then I screamed, “Are you telling me I’m going to die in two years?”
“You could have died last week,” he said seriously.
“Stop pointing that out!” I exploded into tears and lunged for him. I couldn’t recall a time I’d ever needed someone’s arms around me as badly as I did at that moment. The instant my arms wrapped around him, my tears stopped. No sobs remained, no sadness, I suddenly felt calm as if nothing else mattered but us.
“You must go home now. You have to think about what I’ve said. You’ll need time to accept it.”
“Accept dying?” I whispered, the wretched thought plaguing my mind. I closed my eyes, shook my head, and nestled into him as his arms encircled my waist.
****
I didn’t remember anything after his arms went around me. I woke up the next morning in my own bed. Strangely, my arms weren’t sun burnt like I’d thought in the dark parking lot but I didn’t move them at first. How I’d gotten home wasn’t the most pressing question on my mind either.
“What if you only have two years left?” topped off with, “You could have died last week,” left an open invitation for me to consider my mortality. What if I did only have two years left? Would I still choose my plan? Thoughts twisted and swirled, images of death, Alicia’s gravestone, my gravestone. I shuddered.
I couldn’t believe it was true.
I settled on two theories. If he were a psychic who saw the future, I had to believe that future could be changed. If he were a guardian angel as I’d thought when he saved me from the gang of kids, there would be nothing I could do. Both would explain how he knew the things I secretly wished for.
I didn’t truly accept my death decree but I decided to try to enjoy myself more just in case. I would make sure to laugh more every day and stop taking things so seriously. I also decided I would still choose my plan. Authors lived on in their books, and every time someone read their words, they were remembered. Not many artists were famous until after they died anyway.
****
“The man I marry is going to have pecks,” Brenda said, grabbing her breasts for emphasis. “He’s going to have rock hard abs and muscular arms. Oh, and he’ll be a famous football player too. But I want to meet him before he gets rich, when he’s all innocent and fresh, ya know? That way I’ll know who he really is inside.” She peeked over her shoulder at the manager’s door. “What about you? What’s your dream guy like?”
I wiped off the last empty table and shrugged. “The dinner rush is going to start any minute.”
“It hasn’t started yet.” Brenda took the rag out of my hand and threw it into the bussing bin. “You said you were going to start loosening up.”
I sighed at the reminder. “All right. I guess the guy I want to marry would be protective and kind. Chivalrous, you know, like a knight in shining armor? The kind of guy who’ll help a woman stranded on the side of the road. He’d be strong too, not a pushover, but at the same time he’d love me more than himself, and I’d love him the same. We’d have this romantic story of how we fell in love, and we’d just know that we were meant to be together. There wouldn’t be any doubts.”
“Meant to be together?” Brenda scoffed in a cynical tone as she rolled her eyes. “That’s sweet, but I think you read too much fiction. Life is about choices, and we choose who we want to be with. Love doesn’t choose us.”
I shrugged again. “Hey, you asked about my dream guy. I don’t really think he exists.”
When the bell on the door rang, she pulled out her notepad and smiled. “Nice necklace, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
I’d decided to wear it again in hopes that Draven would show up so I could apologize for overreacting about the money. He could obviously afford everything he’d given me, and the idea that I might die young made me realize how much better my life could be if I did let myself enjoy it.
It was a busy night at the diner, and by the time the rush was over, I felt exhausted as usual. When my tables were all bussed, I
took a quick bathroom break to stare at my necklace in the mirror. I knew it looked silly overtop my waitressing uniform, but I liked it.
Brenda crossed her arms and glared angrily at me when I stepped out of the bathroom.
“What?” I asked innocently, walking toward her.
“I’m clocking you out!” she snarled.
“What did I do? I was only gone a minute.”
Brenda’s hard face crumbled as she broke into a giggle. “No girl, I’m clocking you out,” she insisted, letting her eyes cross the restaurant to table sixteen.
I turned and smiled. “I owe you one, again.”
“Are you stalking me now?” I teased when I sat down across from him.
“Sometimes,” Draven replied easily.
“You’re mine tonight,” I said with a determined gaze.
He laughed, seemingly enjoying my attitude. “You want answers?”
“Lots and lots of answers.”
He nodded as if to concede to me. “Where shall we begin?”
“How did you get the necklace and the card into my room?”
“I put them there, of course.”
“When?”
“The necklace when you were sleeping and the card while you were in the shower.”
“You were physically in my room twice?” I squealed, surprised that he would actually admit it.
“Elizabeth,” he said calmly. “I just admitted to stalking you. Does it really surprise you that I was in your room?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, wide-eyed. The idea of a stranger being in my room terrified me but the idea of him in my room opened up so many possibilities that I found myself regretting not catching him in the act. I mentally kicked myself. Hormones were dangerous.
“Do I frighten you?” He appeared concerned.
I took a calming breath, trying to gauge my feelings. I was shocked that he confessed so easily but he didn’t scare me. You’re in trouble, Elizabeth. “Look, I may have overreacted about the money but just tell me why you’re doing all this? It’s beyond obsession, seriously.”