by Amy Reece
“God, sorry. I zoned out for a minute.” I stepped abruptly away from him and headed back to our table. I felt his hand on the small of my back and smiled to myself. ‘Just friends’ indeed. Well, not for long, if I had any say in the matter.
Our dinner arrived almost as soon as we sat down; tacos for Megan, of course, beef enchiladas with green chile for Jack and cheese enchiladas with red chile for me. I made sure they didn’t use meat in their red sauce. I actually prefer green, but it is nearly always made with chicken broth in restaurants, which is a total turn off to a vegetarian.
“So, how long have you been a vegetarian?” Jack asked.
“What’s a vegenarian?” asked Megan, her mouth full of taco.
“Vegetarian. Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Jack admonished gently. “It means she doesn’t eat meat.”
Megan swallowed obediently and said, “Ever? What about turkey on Thanksgiving?”
“Nope, not even turkey on Thanksgiving,” I acknowledged. “I’ve been a vegetarian since I was 12 years old but I’m kind of embarrassed to tell you why I decided to go meatless.”
“What? You can tell us. We promise not to laugh, right?” he looked at Megan for confirmation. She nodded her agreement.
“Fine, but don’t judge me. I became a vegetarian because I was reading The Princess Diaries and the main character, Mia, was a vegetarian and I wanted to be just like her.” I looked at them rather shamefaced. “Silly, huh?”
“I have that movie,” said Megan.
“So, why are you still a vegetarian?” Jack wanted to know. “Still following in the heroine’s footsteps?” he teased.
“No,” I said, jutting my chin proudly. “Now, I’m a fully conscious PETA cardholder who is against overt cruelty to animals. I don’t eat anything with a face.”
“I’m only teasing,” said Jack. “I totally respect you for living out a belief so strongly. I don’t think I could do it.”
After Megan managed to finish one of her tacos and about half her beans and rice, she was ready for more dancing. Since Jack wasn’t finished eating, I volunteered to dance with her. “You sure you don’t mind?” he asked, sounding relieved.
“Of course not. Come on, Megan. Let’s go shake our groove thing, girl.” We danced to two fast songs and then Megan wanted to go back to the table for sopapillas. As she bit the corner off the pillow of fried bread and poured honey in the middle, Jack took my hand and led me back to the dance floor. They were playing a slow song as he pulled me into his arms and I gladly fit my body against his. With my head against his chest, I inhaled his wonderful scent: slightly spicy aftershave mixed with whatever detergent his aunt used on his clothes, and the clean and wonderfully male smell that was Jack himself. It was intoxicating. We fit together so well, in spite of our height difference. Why was he so determined to declare us “just friends”? It was clear we were more, and part of me wanted to call him on it; the other, saner part of me said to leave it alone, let it take its course. Pushing might push him away again, and that was completely unacceptable.
“I think our little third wheel is about to give up the ghost.” He nodded his head toward the table where Megan was literally falling asleep as she ate. “We better get her home.”
We worked together to get her cleaned up, Jack dipping an edge of the napkin in a water glass and wiping the sticky honey off her hands and face. “Ahh, Jack. That’s cold,” she complained sleepily.
“Sorry, Princess. If I don’t, you’ll stick to your car seat and have to spend the night in the car,” he teased. He wrapped her jacket around her and picked her up. “Come on. I’ll carry you.” As we were pulling out of the parking lot a few minutes later, he glanced at my profile and said, “Do you mind if we drop her off before I take you home? I mean, it’s still pretty early. We could go grab some coffee or something?”
“That sounds good,” I said casually. There was no way in the world I was going to turn down more time, especially time alone, with Jack.
When we got to his house, Jack carried the sleeping girl inside, and introduced me to his Aunt Trina, who offered to take the child from him.
“No, I want Jack and Ally to tuck me in. Please?” she whimpered. He gave his aunt an amused look and carried her to her room. I followed him upstairs to a small pink and white bedroom, where we again worked together to get the limp child into her pajamas and tucked into bed. “Jack, sing me my song, please.”
He rolled his eyes and tried to weasel out, “Oh, come on, Meg. Don’t make me sing in front of Ally,” he begged.
“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” I said virtuously. Jack gave me an evil look that promised retribution.
“Please, Jack?” Megan wheedled.
“Fine,” he sighed and began to sing a soft lullaby in Spanish. He had a beautiful, deep voice that quickly lulled Megan to sleep.
I was enchanted. I reached over to brush the hair out of the little girl’s face, but as I touched her skin, I immediately felt intense heat crawl along my skin and her face was replaced with a vision.
Megan was wiggling one of her front teeth with her tongue and it was extremely loose, moving back and forth in a disgusting way. She reached up with her fingers and the tooth suddenly came out. She stared at it with a comical look on her little face and then held it up triumphantly to Jack and his Aunt Trina. They both laughed and Jack hugged her, telling her to be sure to put it under her pillow that night so the tooth fairy would come.
I gasped and pulled away suddenly. As visions go, it was pretty mild—nothing truly shocking about it. Oh, yeah. Except that I know for a fact that Megan still has both front teeth because I had watched her chowing down on tacos all evening, biting into a crunchy shell with two intact front teeth. Apparently I had just had a vision of the future.
CHAPTER NINE
“There’s a world of difference between truth and facts. Facts can obscure the truth.”
–Maya Angelou
Well, of course Jack noticed that something was wrong. There seemed to be no hiding anything from him. Within a very few minutes he had me back in my jacket, a brief goodbye said to Trina, and then we were sitting in his car in the driveway, heater blasting, and he was chafing my hands between his. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking.
“Damn it,” Jack muttered. He let go of my hands and wriggled out of his jacket with some degree of difficulty and wrapped it around me, then continued to rub my hands. “You’re shivering.”
I stilled his hands. “Jack, I’m fine. It’s okay.” I turned to face him. “I just had a shock. I’ll be all right.”
“Tell me,” he said. “Did you see something about Megan? Was it bad? Please tell me.”
“No, Jack,” I put my hands on his face. “She’s fine. I saw her losing a tooth. That’s all. She was pulling out her front tooth and she showed you and she was so proud. It’s all right. She’s fine. Really.”
“Are you sure?” At my nod, all the tension drained out of his body and he pulled me close. “Oh, my God. Okay. She’s fine. Sorry. I kinda freaked out for a minute. But you were only seeing when she lost her…” He realized what the real issue was, why I had freaked out. “Ally, she hasn’t lost her front teeth yet. My God! Did you just see the future?” Now he was the one with his hands on my face, looking intently into my eyes. “That’s never happened, has it?” I shook my head. “Jesus, Ally. I don’t even know what to say.” He pulled his hands away and sat back in his seat, shocked.
My heart sank. So this was it. I was too much of a freak for him, finally. “No, it’s fine.” I moved back from him, suddenly cold once again. “Can you take me home, please?” I folded my arms tightly in front of my chest, tears close to the surface.
I could tell he was staring at me. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I get it. It’s fine. I need to go home. Now.”
He stared at me. “Ally? What’s the matter? Do you think…? God, do you think I’m…I don’t even know…disgusted or something?”
/> I couldn’t help it. I really couldn’t. I started crying. And not quietly or prettily. Real sobs. Hey, I make no excuses, except, well, can I simply say that I’ve been under a lot of stress lately?
“God, Ally,” he said as he slid over and pulled me into his arms once again. “I think I might actually be offended. Do you honestly think this would put me off? You idiot,” he said. He held me close, rubbing my back.
“I thought maybe this was too much,” I hiccupped. “It’s kind of too much for me.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He said softly. “Hey, we’ll figure this out. When do you see Cassie next?”
“On Monday. Jack.” I sat back and looked into his face. “What’s happening to me? I don’t want this—this power. I want to be normal. I don’t want to be able to see people’s deep, dark secrets and I sure as hell don’t want to be able to see the future. I don’t want to be a freak.”
“Listen to me, Ally,” he said as looked intently into my eyes. “You are not a freak. You are a beautiful, strong, confident young woman who has been given a great gift. You’re going to figure out what it’s for and what to do with it. I have never met a stronger person than you.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” I breathed. I was feeling much better now that I knew he wasn’t going to bolt.
“Out of that whole speech, that’s what you got?” He kissed me on the forehead and slid over to his side of the car, putting it into gear and backing out of the driveway. “Now let’s get out of here before my aunt comes to investigate. I’m sure she thinks we’ve been making out in her driveway.”
I would have loved to be engaged in making out with Jack in any driveway. I wanted to state that for the record.
“Let’s get some coffee. I could sure use some. I think there’s some tissue in the glove box if you want to, uh, you know, clean up.”
I gave him an evil look as I began to root around in the glove box. “I thought I was beautiful,” I muttered. “Hey, do you think Barnes and Noble is still open? I need a book and they have a coffee shop.”
“I think they may be. Let’s give it a try.”
“Jack, would it be all right if we tabled the whole psychic thing for the rest of the evening? Please? I’d like to pretend to be normal for a little while.”
“No problem. Normal it is.”
Twenty minutes later, we were ensconced in the café at Barnes and Noble, drinking coffee with a new book apiece on the small table between us.
“So,” Jack said, turning my book around to face him. “The Ultimate Guide to Cheerleading? Looks like quite a page turner.”
I rolled my eyes at him over my coffee cup. “Yeah, well, the coach was throwing around some terminology that was completely unfamiliar. I figure I better study up this weekend if I’m going to have any chance at all. I am going to be the world’s worst cheerleader.”
“Nah, you’ll be the world’s cutest. Ally.” He grabbed my hand again on the top of the table. “Can I ask a kind of personal question?”
He could pretty much have anything he asked when he said my name like that. “Hmmm. Do I get one in return?” I countered, attempting to keep my mushy feelings to myself.
“Sure. Knock yourself out,” he challenged. “Mine first. When you were paying for your book, I noticed that you have a driver’s license. But I’ve never seen you drive or even talk about driving.”
“Uh, yeah,” I began. “Well, I do have a license. I actually had to get a new one when my wallet got stolen. But I don’t like to drive.”
“Why not?”
“Well…” I blew out a breath. “I actually got into an accident my first week driving. Of all the luck, huh? I haven’t been able to drive since.”
“Really? That sucks, but what about ‘getting right back up on the horse’ and all that?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I guess I got really freaked out. The thought of getting behind the wheel again terrifies me.”
“What if I helped? I could take you out driving, you know, and get you used to it again. I’m a really good teacher.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head. The offer was tempting, especially the thought of spending more time with him, but the thought of driving freaked me out too much. “I’m really not ready for that. But thanks. Maybe someday. Okay, my turn. What was the song you sang to Megan tonight?”
He chuckled. “That’s your question? Kinda seems like a waste.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I reserve my right to any follow up questions directly related to the original.”
“Oh, that’s not how this game is played,” he argued.
“Yes, it is. Now, what’s the song?” I tried to look very stern.
He laughed. “Fine, I bow to your interpretation of the rules. The song is called ‘Duermete mi Niña.’ It means ‘go to sleep my child.’ My mom used to sing it to me, and to Megan, but I’m not sure she remembers that.”
“Do you speak Spanish, Jack?”
He gave me that wonderful little half-smile. “Yeah, I do. My mom was bilingual, but my dad only spoke Spanish when they met in Mexico City. She was down there on an exchange at the university, working on her law degree. He was a literature professor. So, I was raised bilingual. It comes in handy at the shop. Any more follow up questions?”
“Yeah,” I said softly and turned his arm over on the table. I was still wearing his jacket. “Tell me about your tattoo.” I gently rubbed the image of the compass rose with dates swirling around the edge of it.
“I don’t think that qualifies as a follow-up.” He was quiet for a moment before he continued. “It’s for my mom. In her honor,” he spoke as softly as I, as if what he was saying was sacred, not for the ears of those around us in the coffee shop. “She loved roses. She had a beautiful garden at our house in Taos. She spent hours out there. I would help her, carrying buckets with the petals and rose heads in them. She would dry the petals and stuff. Make potpourri and I don’t know what else.” He pointed to the two dates. “This is her birthday: 4-22-67. This is the day she died: 10-15-08. I got it the day I got out of jail. I knew a guy who would do it without parental permission ’cuz I was only 15. I swore that day I would never let her down again. This reminds me to stay on the right path.”
When he dropped me off in front of my house an hour later, he of course walked me up to the front door. I can’t imagine Jack ever doing something like dropping a girl off at the curb. I hugged him tight and whispered in his ear, “Thanks for telling me about your mom. You’re not letting her down.”
***
Tara came over the next day to help me study for cheerleading tryouts. I do realize how weird that sounds, but it’s true. I didn’t know anything about cheerleading. We read most of the book, watched endless YouTube videos, and ended the evening in our pajamas, popcorn between us, watching Bring It On. Neither of us had seen it before, it not being anywhere near the genres we usually chose. At the end of the movie, I turned to Tara and said, “Shoot me now, please.” She laughed and said that I would do fine on Monday.
Monday came, no matter how hard I wished it not to. Jack walked me to the auxiliary gym for the clinic before he headed to his CNM class.
“I’ll pick you up from Cassie’s office at 6.” Even with his busy work and community college schedule he tried to minimize my reliance on the city bus. “Maybe we could grab a bite on the way home so I can hear all about the clinic and your session with Cassie?”
“That would be great, Jack. God, I’m dreading this,” I sighed.
“Get in there and give ’em hell.” He waved as he walked away.
I made sure to get a locker by Veronica and tried to engage her conversation while we changed, but the results were disappointing. I don’t think she was going to have the time of day for anyone but a fellow cheerleader. Ugh! Why couldn’t she be a member of the chess club?
The clinic itself was exhausting and mind numbing all at the same time. I was not a huge fan of the dance th
ey were trying to teach us, nor was I any good at it. It was full of sexy moves that I felt ridiculous attempting. It was not until the last half hour that we finally got around to something I could shine at: tumbling. I was a competitive gymnast until my freshman year, when it became clear I didn’t have what it took to be world class. But I sure could tumble. I made the rest of the girls look really lame. Hey, I’m not bragging. I’m also not layering on a lot of false modesty. I had put in hundreds of hours of work to learn the round-offs and back flips that I was, admittedly, showing off. But this was the only area I had the slightest chance in. I was never going to make it with my dance moves.
I was a sweaty, disgusting mess by the time I had changed back into my street clothes and headed downtown to meet with Cassie. I so wished I could take a shower before I met Jack for dinner, but I was running late and there was simply no time. Having to live by the city bus schedules was brutal sometimes. Yikes, he’d take one whiff and head in the other direction for sure.
In Cassie’s office, she led me through a few more of the exercises we had done before. I like to think I made some progress. She did the object exercise again, this time with a decorative pillow that I saw her shopping for at Pottery Barn. Admittedly not the most exciting vision ever, but hey.
That exercise turned out to be a warm up for what she had planned next.
“Ally, I want to take you back to the other visions you had of Veronica. The more disturbing, violent ones. I’m sorry, but I think we need to revisit them.”
I sank back into the cushions of her couch. “Yeah. I’m not looking forward to it. Especially the last vision. I passed out, you know.”
“I know, sweetheart. I won’t let that happen.”
She took my hand and we went through the vision of Veronica getting slapped by her…what to call him? Her lover? Her baby-daddy? Her personal sadistic bastard? I favored the last one. As I went deeper into the vision with Cassie’s assistance, I could actually feel the slap.