Borrowed Heart

by Linda Lamberson

  “What? Why would you—” Quinn stopped short. He actually didn’t seem all that surprised. Still, he shot his parents a look that told them he wanted an explanation nonetheless.

  “Oh, Quinny,” his mother cried, “you know why. Brady’s gambling is out of control, and we can’t handle the roller coaster ride anymore. Every time he calls it’s to ask for more money. It’s always another story about how he’s on to the next big thing … or how his bookies are looking for him, and if he doesn’t give them the money he owes, they’ll …” Quinn’s mother couldn’t finish her sentence. She closed her eyes, rubbed her temples with her fingers, and took a deep breath.

  “Sweetheart,” his mother continued as she looked back at Quinn, “we just can’t take it anymore. Brady has to hit rock bottom on his own before he will ever be serious about getting help. So we told him there would be no more assistance on our part—no more money, no more attempted interventions—and, in return, he wouldn’t have to go through the motions of making promises he knows he can’t keep.”

  “Quinn, we told Brady he can’t come home until he’s ready to give up gambling for good,” his father added.

  Quinn was silent.

  “Quinny, say something, please,” his mother begged.

  “I hope he survives long enough to hit bottom.” Quinn sounded bitter and sympathetic at the same time. “Look, I know that Brady is difficult, but don’t give up on him yet, okay? Just don’t write him off completely. He’s still a part of this family.”

  “We’re doing the best we can with him, Quinn,” his father said.

  “I know, Dad, I know. I just wish there was more I could do.”

  “There is,” his father offered. “If he calls and asks you for money, do not give it to him—no matter how much he begs. You know handouts and loans don’t do him any good—he just gambles the money away as soon as he gets it.”

  Quinn remained silent.

  “Quinny,” his mother wrapped her petite hands around Quinn’s, “Brady knows that you’re working this summer. He knows you have some extra cash. If he calls, promise us you won’t let him manipulate you into giving him any money. Please, sweetheart. Your father’s right—Brady will just throw it all away. Promise us,” she begged again.

  Quinn still didn’t say anything.

  “Quinn?” his father chimed in.

  “I promise,” he agreed reluctantly.

  The evening wrapped up, and Quinn’s parents dropped him off at his apartment building before they headed back home. Quinn climbed the stairs slowly, opened his front door, and just stood in the open doorway for a minute. He dragged himself inside, set his computer bag on the floor by his closet, hung up his jacket, and emptied the contents of his pockets onto the breakfast bar. Then he walked over to his stereo and popped in a CD. The song Quinn played was intense, almost angry, and he played it loudly—very loudly. He collapsed onto the couch and just stared up at the ceiling, allowing the music to engulf him. Quinn let the music blare for a good fifteen minutes or so until his neighbor below started banging his ceiling up through to Quinn’s floor.

  “Hey! Turn the music down!” his neighbor screamed.

  An annoyed expression crossed Quinn’s face, but he got up and turned off the music. He just stood there for a minute with his hands on his hips before bowing his head slightly and shaking it with disapproval.

  “Damn you, Brady,” he muttered under his breath. He turned off all the lights and went to bed.

  That night, my heart went out to Quinn and his family. Quinn was my priority; but I wondered if there was something I could do for the Harrisons as well. I wondered if there would ever be some way in which I could help his family.

  20. Shell-Shocked

  The next morning, Quinn was like a different person. He seemed more focused and determined. It was as if somehow the news about Brady had been some huge reality check for him.

  There was no mention of me. In fact, there had been no mention of me at all in his sleep. And Quinn wasn’t at all self-conscious about getting ready for work. I even found myself shielding my eyes for a good part of the morning to give him some privacy.

  I wasn’t the only one to observe Quinn’s renewed sense of purpose; the partners at the firm noticed as well. That day, Quinn actively volunteered to shadow partners in meetings, he sought out research assignments, and spent the better part of the afternoon diligently sifting through boxes of documents stashed in a small, interior conference room commonly referred to as the “fishbowl,” as three of the four walls were made entirely of glass. Every so often, Quinn would take a break and glance around. He seemed to be looking for someone.

  Only when I saw her enter the fishbowl did I comprehend just who Quinn had been hoping to see. She looked like she had walked right off the pages of a fashion magazine. She was probably in her mid-twenties. She was tall and had long, light-brown hair that fell past her shoulders in thick waves of perfectly tamed curls. Her dark, hazel eyes complemented her golden skin. And her body was perfect—thin but curvy in all the right places. To top it off, her clothes and makeup were flawless; I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had her own personal wardrobe and makeup assistants stashed away somewhere close by. I glanced back at Quinn and saw the look in his eyes. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one taken by her beauty.

  “Ashley, you’re back,” Quinn remarked.

  “I am,” she smiled at him. “That project in Philly took a lot longer than anticipated, but I got home last night. Hey, is it true that you were mugged while I was gone?” She sounded overly concerned.

  “Well, technically, no—he never got anything from me.”

  “Well, are you okay? I hope you weren’t badly hurt.” She walked up behind him and innocently tousled his hair before walking across the room and sitting on the corner of the desk pushed up against the only opaque wall. “Ugh, I must be the worst mentor ever—leaving you high and dry for weeks at a time only to come back and learn that you got assaulted while I was away.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Ash, it would have happened had you been here or not,” Quinn commented. “It was destined to happen,” he joked, without realizing that he’d just nailed the bull’s-eye.

  “Wow, you really did get hurt, didn’t you?” she asked, sounding more genuinely concerned. She must have noticed his scar.

  “Oh, yeah—that. It’s no big deal, really.” Quinn tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as he rubbed his left temple.

  “Well, it looks like a big deal. I want to hear all about it tomorrow night. We’re still on for dinner, right?” Ashley asked. “Of course, if you’re still not feeling that well, we could always just stay in,” she said seductively. Her eyes twinkled as she smiled at Quinn playfully.

  Holy smokes! my mind screamed as I attempted to recover from the newsflash that had just slapped me across the face. They're involved! I was flabbergasted. Nowhere in my mind had I expected this turn of events. I felt like such an idiot. Of course they were involved! They were a perfect pair; her beauty rivaled his own. They were that couple, the couple everyone envied but secretly longed to be a part of.

  “No, I could definitely use a night out. I’ve been cooped up in my place for so long I’ve started seeing things—not a healthy sign.” Quinn chuckled and flashed his charming smile at her.

  “No, definitely not. Let’s go out. Do you want to leave straight from here—say around six?”

  “Yeah, six should work.”

  “Okay, see you then.” She winked at him and walked away.

  I couldn’t keep pace with the thoughts streaming through my mind. I suddenly felt wholly inadequate. Even with my immortal abilities, I was no match for her. Ashley was stunning. She was his mentor at work. More importantly, she was alive.

  I was jealous, even though I knew I had no right to be. Quinn and I were not together nor were we meant to be together. He was supposed to forget about me. I had wanted him to forget about me … to move on with his life. I just hadn’t given a l
ot of thought as to what “moving on” really meant. I certainly didn’t think it would mean having that siren make a move on him.

  * * *

  The next evening dragged on at an excruciatingly slow pace. Quinn and Ashley went to the Italian Village for dinner where they got seated in an intimate booth tucked away in a corner of the restaurant. Ashley smiled with satisfaction when the host seated them. I could see her scheming, planning out every last detail of their romantic night together.

  If I’d known what was good for me, I would have left. I knew I could travel to the ends of the Earth twice and be back before they finished their appetizers. But I didn’t leave. I couldn’t tear my attention away from them for even one second. I studied her every move. I mentally cringed at Quinn’s every reaction towards her. It was like watching some awful horror flick unfold. I could see the monster hiding around the dark corner. I could hear the bone-chilling music in the background. I just couldn’t do anything to stop the impending massacre.

  Ashley strategically sat next to Quinn rather than across the table from him. Very smooth, I thought as I mentally tallied a point in her favor. I gave Ashley another point every time she managed to slyly inch her way closer to him. She fed him some of her pasta, leaning into him so that her breasts brushed against his arm. Using her finger, she gently wiped the Alfredo sauce from the corner of his mouth and fed it to him—another point.

  Ashley definitely wanted Quinn, and she was not at all shy about letting him know just how physically attracted she was to him. And Quinn seemed to be welcoming Ashley’s advances. Yet, I couldn’t help but notice some part of him seemed closed off—some small part of him was keeping her at bay. Ashley didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn’t look like she cared. She continued to confidently and expertly execute her seduction. She clearly had no doubts she would be spending the entire evening in Quinn’s company—that was, until they left the restaurant.

  Ashley was tracing the buttons of Quinn’s shirt with her fingers as they waited outside for a cab. As one pulled up, Quinn opened the door for her.

  “Please take us to the corner of Morgan and Adams,” Ashley directed the cab driver as she stepped inside. She knew where Quinn lived, which could only mean that she had been to his apartment before. Ugh. An aching pain streaked through my mind.

  “Um … Ashley,” Quinn muttered somewhat uncomfortably, “I think maybe it would be best if you went back to your place tonight.”

  Ashley looked up at him, bewildered. I was bewildered. He wanted to go home alone. Relief mixed with a hint of joy swept through my mind.

  “Why? Is something wrong?” Ashley asked, disappointed.

  “No. It’s just that I’m still supposed to take it easy for a little while longer,” Quinn said, pointing to his forehead, “and I know I won’t do that if you come over. In fact, my head is already starting to spin.” He flashed her his seductive, charming smile, which seemed to placate her some.

  “So … I make your head spin, do I?” Ashley smiled impishly at him and winked.

  “Like you don’t know.” He returned her grin and leaned down and gave her a quick peck good night. Not letting him off that easy, Ashley pulled him towards her and kissed him passionately. My mind flooded with envy.

  “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” she tempted.

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure you could,” Quinn replied, “but I’m still under doctor’s orders … How about a rain check? Dinner will be on me next time—I insist.”

  “All right, but I’m going to hold you to it.” Ashley sighed melodramatically as she smiled in partial victory. “Good night, Quinn.”

  “Good night, Ash,” Quinn replied as he stepped back, closed the cab door, and knocked on the top of the car’s roof to signal it was okay to drive off. He took a deep breath and sighed as he watched the cab get smaller and smaller in the distance. I knew that part of him wanted to be in that cab with her, and I mentally winced.

  When Quinn walked into his loft, he hung his suit jacket up in the coat closet. He unbuttoned his Oxford and took it off, but before draping it over one of the dining room chairs, he brought the shirt up to his face and inhaled deeply. Ashley’s perfume must have been lingering on it; he was taking it in, letting her scent invade his senses.

  This was just too much to handle. I didn’t know which was worse—knowing that Quinn wanted to be with her or that there was no chance he could ever be with me. I knew he and I would never be together. I knew that I could never offer him what a living, breathing woman could offer him. But I hadn’t thought about him actually wanting someone else … wanting her. I hadn’t thought about how it would make me feel. I certainly wasn’t prepared to be emotionally twisted and ripped apart while I was forced to silently watch Quinn with another woman from the sidelines.

  I teleported myself to Quinn’s rooftop where I materialized into my human form and stretched; the hot summer breeze felt good. I even welcomed the smell of hot asphalt combined with the hodgepodge of aromas emanating from the exhaust vents of nearby restaurants and coffee shops. I anxiously paced the length of the deck until he fell asleep.

  Did protecting Quinn honestly mean I had to stand by and suffer while I watched him with her? I already knew the answer was “yes.” This was the job, whether I liked it not. That being the case, only two questions now remained. First, how much longer was this assignment going to last? And, second, just how much of Ashley was I going to have to endure?

  I looked at my watch. The Incident Timer itself was still blank. It could be months—years, even—before the Second Incident occurred. I dropped my face in my hands. I felt like my body was being crushed from the weight of the misfortune bearing down on me.

  I can’t do this. I just can’t, my mind rambled in a panic. I’m getting in too deep. I’m sinking too fast. I felt like I was suffocating. I had to find a way to breathe. I had to get away. I had to escape. I needed to go somewhere calm and peaceful to think things through clearly. Black sand beaches and ocean surf flashed through my mind. That was it—that’s where I needed to be; that’s where I wanted to be.

  Instantly, I found myself on Wai’anapanapa Beach. The sun had set, and the stars were beginning to sprinkle their brilliant, twinkling lights across the young night sky. The moon was rising, casting its mystical glow across the water. I materialized into my human form and walked knee-deep into the water as I breathed in the salty ocean air. I closed my eyes and drank in the sounds of nature all around me, letting them drown out the noise of my own thoughts. I immediately felt more relaxed.

  “This is quite a magical place … especially if you need to figure a few things out. Don’t you agree, my child?”

  Startled, I opened my eyes and turned my head around to see Agnes standing about fifteen feet from me at the edge of the shore. I noticed she was wearing a different linen pantsuit than the one she’d been wearing when I first met her.

  “Yes, I do,” I mumbled awkwardly, unsure if Agnes’s previous invitation for me to return to this spot had been genuine or said out of sheer politeness. I hoped she wasn’t upset that I had come back so soon.

  “I’m sorry to bother you. I can leave if you would like to be here alone,” I offered.

  “Nonsense,” Agnes responded, smiling. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Eve. Besides, you look like you need this place more than I do at the moment. I can see something is bothering you. Would you prefer to be alone with your thoughts or would you like a friendly ear to listen to you?”

  “Actually, I’d appreciate it if you could stay for a few minutes—that is, if you have the time.” I didn’t know how else to answer Agnes. I was glad to see her, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her anything.

  “For you, my child, I’ll make the time.” She gave me another warm smile and extended her hand to help me out of the water.

  We walked the length of the beach arm-in-arm and sat down on some rocks near the shoreline. The moonlight bounced off Agnes’s skin, making it glow like iri
descent silk. She was a very elegant-looking woman. I took a second look at her new outfit. I surveyed my clothes only to realize I had been wearing the same white T-shirt and jeans for as far back as I could remember. As far as I knew, they were the only clothes I owned.

  “How did you do that?” I asked Agnes curiously. “How did you change your outfit?” I knew my small talk was just a way to beat around the bush, but I wasn’t ready to talk about Quinn just yet. Besides, I was intrigued by the idea of being able to expand my wardrobe.

  “I just willed it,” she replied. “It’s much like teleporting; you picture what you would like to be wearing and then you simply want to wear it. The trick is remembering that it’s all an illusion. The clothes you’re wearing, the ones we’re all wearing, are merely mental projections of ourselves—the way we want others to see us. Once removed, however, they disappear into thin air like magic … like the illusion they really are.” Agnes took off her blazer and let go of it. I watched it disintegrate before it ever touched the ground.

  “See? … And you can appear to be wearing anything you like whenever you wish.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment and instantly her clothes shimmered, and she was wearing an exact replica of the T-shirt and jeans I was wearing.

  “Wow.” I laughed. “Something tells me you pull these rags off a lot better than I do.”

  Agnes shimmered back into her pantsuit, took my hand, and smiled at me. “Eve, did you really want me to stay with you so you could ask me about altering your wardrobe?” She cast me a knowing glance.

  “No.” I dropped my head down and sat there silently for a moment. I looked up at her. “It’s just that … Oh, Agnes, I don’t even know where to begin,” I said helplessly.

  “Sometimes it helps to just start talking,” she advised.

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath and exhaled, mustering up enough courage to tell her what had been happening. “I feel like I’m totally messing things up … And I feel like I’m totally messed up.” My eyes stung, longing for the tears I knew wouldn't come.