The Kindred Soul of Nora Faye: The Tethered Soul Series, Book 3

by Laura C. Reden

  Chloe was a good mom. I had only seen my brother once in my second life, and that was at my dad’s funeral, but even then, he looked better than ever. He and Chloe appeared to be strong and happy. As happy as any could be under the circumstances. And I loved her for that. For taking care of my brother the way she has all these years. The fear that she wouldn’t was the only reason I had such distastes for her in my first life. I was worried she wasn’t good enough for him. Though now, I can see I was wrong. And I couldn’t be more grateful. Sometimes while I sat at the park, I wondered if we would have been friends. But as I sat on the bench today, I knew we would be.

  A green ball rolled to my feet, startling me from my thoughts. The quick pitter-patter of the little boy running through the grass grew louder as he approached me. Before I knew it, Wes was at my feet, picking up his ball. But he didn’t pick it up and run—no—he picked it up and stared at me blankly. My stomach dropped as I slowly lowered my book. Chloe stood on the other side of the playground, watching, waiting.

  But when Wes didn’t move, and he didn’t speak, I did something reckless. I lifted my sunglasses, and I winked at him. He stood stunned for a second, then took off running back to his mom. He pointed at me, repeating himself over and over again. “That’s my siser! That’s my siser!”

  “That’s not your sister, baby. That’s just a woman at the park. She’s reading.” Chloe tried to calm him down. She swooped him up in her arms, but he craned his neck, trying to look at me still.

  “That’s my siser!” he yelled.

  “OK. Time to go home, buddy. Come on, let’s get your ball.” Chloe packed her bag with one hand as she cradled Wes on her hip. She turned around right before leaving the park to look at me one last time. I dipped my head ever so slightly behind my book, regretting my decision to show myself to the boy. I had no idea he would be such a little snitch. Figures, I thought. He’s my brother’s son.

  Chloe started for her car, but I could hear Wes calling louder and louder down the trail. Clearly upset that his mom wasn’t listening to him. “That’s my siser! That’s Everee!”

  My stomach sank when I heard my name escape his mouth. What had I done? It was clear that my niece and I looked similar, but how was I supposed to know he would solve the puzzle in a minute flat? Especially when I had been going to the park for an entire year now, and Chloe hadn’t figured it out. I shook my head, feeling so stupid. The only reason Wes knew it was me when Chloe hadn’t, was not because I lifted my sunglasses. It was because Wes didn’t know that it wasn’t possible. Chloe may have had a few passing thoughts about us looking alike, but in all her years, she learned that surviving death was not reality. Wes, on the other hand, well heck, he probably still believed in Santa Claus.

  I pictured Easton shaking his head in my mind. Disappointed. I was beginning to believe him all those times he told me I couldn’t show myself to past loved ones. They don’t understand, he’d say. I always believed I could make them, but shortly after I spoke to my dad in the hospital, his heart stopped beating. And now, when I smiled and winked at my little nephew, he immediately went into a tail spin. I frowned, closing the book in my lap and watched her car pull away. Easton was right about this rule. No more, I told myself.

  That evening I ordered a couple of pizzas to the house after Tanner had dropped by, and looked like he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Instead, he sprawled out on our sofa, beer in hand.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” I said.

  “I got a place!” Tanner announced. “Rented a home just the next neighborhood over. Only took me six minutes to get here, but that was probably because there was some construction on the main road. I bet when it clears, it will only take three. Or two!” Tanner raised his beer can to me.

  “You’re staying?” I asked. He had mentioned the possibility before the wedding, but really hadn’t said much afterward. At least not to me. But I should have known, since he hadn’t quite left our house yet, either.

  “Oh yeah! Three amigos. Just like when we were kids,” Tanner said, kicking off his shoes and putting his feet up on our coffee table. My eyes dropped to his dirty socks.

  “Isn’t that great news?” Easton asked.

  “Yeah! Congratulations,” I nodded.

  “And I got all the sign-up info for the academy today, too,” Tanner said.

  Easton’s eyes flickered between his brother and me, and then mine did the same.

  “Oh, um, Beck, do you remember when we talked about me becoming a police officer?” Easton said.

  I stared unblinkingly at him. Was he serious? Now? When we were going to have a baby? “You mean when we agreed you were too wimpy to become a police officer?” I asked, head cocked.

  Tanner laughed, slapping his knee. “Good one, Bec!”

  “Well, Tanner and I thought we could join the academy together . . .” Easton said, ignoring my original comment.

  I glared at him, willing him to read my mind. Could Tethered Souls read each other’s minds? I’d have to try. Don’t put your life on the line when you are going to be a father!

  “Come on, Bec, you can’t expect Easton to just sit on the sofa? He’s the man of the house now! He has to provide for his family! Am I right?” Tanner said.

  Easton pointed to his brother and nodded in agreement. “Can’t you provide for your family . . . by becoming an accountant? Or a real estate agent? Or literally anything . . . that doesn't put you in front of a bullet?” I asked. The brothers stared at me and then at each other. I could tell that Easton was feeding off Tanner’s energy, and I didn’t like it.

  “Come on, Beck, I’m going to get that six-pack that you always wanted,” Easton said.

  “Yeah, come on, Bec,” Tanner said.

  I rolled my eyes. These misfits were impossible. “I mean, I can’t tell you what to do, but—”

  “Yeah!” Tanner raised his fist in the air and nearly spilled his beer. I rolled my eyes and glared at Easton.

  “Everything will be OK,” Easton said in a low voice. Our eyes locked for a moment, and by the time our contact had broken, I felt he was sincere. Not that he had any control over what would happen to him in the line of duty, but that possibly he had a plan. Or maybe Brooklyn had shared a dream with him. Either way, his blue eyes from across the living room were soothing, and at some point, I had to realize I couldn’t control what happened in my life. Not with Easton, and not with our baby boy.

  “All six abs?” I asked.

  Chapter 15

  My nausea grew worse, and vomiting in the morning became routine. It was miserable, and most days, I laid in bed until noon, thankful I had taken a semester off school for the wedding. But when the phone rang with my pregnancy test results, it made it all worthwhile. It was confirmed; I was, in fact, pregnant. The impossible made possible. It seemed to be a theme in my life. The second I got off the call with the nurse, I called Easton. I wanted to surprise him in some fancy way, but the moment was far too precious to hold on to until he got home. The phone rang three times before he picked up.

  “Hello?” Easton answered the phone.

  “I’m pregnant!” I blurted out.

  “You are?”

  “Yes!”

  “Holy shit! Beck’s pregnant!” Easton said, his voice away from the speaker.

  “Wait! Don’t tell anybody! It’s bad luck until I hear the heartbeat!” I said.

  “. . . Or, nevermind,” Easton said.

  “Wait, so she is, or she isn’t?” Tanner’s muffled voice came through the phone.

  “No, she really is!” Easton whispered.

  I rolled my eyes. “I love you!” I said. It’s all that mattered, anyway.

  “I love you, too. I’ll be home after we finish registering for the academy,” Easton said.

  “OK. Bye.” I hung up the phone, a large grin wrapped around my face. I didn’t know I felt this way. Not until my reaction to the nurse’s call had I really detected my feelings as excitement. And in fact, it surprised me a
little. I was going to be a mother. And I could hardly wait. A mini Easton, following me around all day. My imagination ran wild of a little boy—much like Wes with his shaggy hair—running through the backyard. It was so real. I swore I could see him straight through the glass slider. I had no idea this was where my life had been heading, but now that it was upon me, I couldn’t imagine my purpose without it.

  I slowly sat down on the sofa, my eyes still fixed on the figment of my imagination playing in the backyard. I couldn’t imagine my purpose without it. And there it was. The answer. I would live my last life. I watched as the little boy playing in the yard dissipated like a cloud moving past the sky, and I was left with nothing but a sinking feeling of doom. If I had this baby, my life would be fulfilled. And if my life were lived to its full potential, then it would be my last. Easton would be right. Our baby would be left unprotected for centuries to come. I would have to believe deep down in my heart that there were people in this world that would do my job for me when I was gone.

  Brooklyn dreamed of the day it would happen. The day we died. She said Easton wasn’t the least concerned when she told him. And to be honest, neither was I. Not until now, until it was crucial that I lived forever. Brooklyn devised a plan to evade her premonition. There was only one way to accomplish it, though, and it was as simple as doing nothing at all. Keeping the status quo. What had worked for me in the past was surely going to work for me again. If I could just stay the same—let my fears hold me back from the things I really wanted to achieve and the people I wanted to love—then my life would never be enriched enough to be considered fulfilled. The box simply left unchecked. Simple. I’d been mediocre for as long as I remembered.

  Brooklyn was worried when I told her I was getting married until she finally concluded that it wouldn’t change much in Easton’s and my life. We already lived together anyway and had been doing it for a year. We had loved each other in our past life too, and I still wound back here to live another life. But having a baby was a big change. It was a fork in the road, and we were pivoting. An alternative path altogether, and it sure wasn’t the one I had been traveling down for the past two lives. Something told me that being mediocre would no longer work for me and that I’d need to come out of my comfort zone. If I were to shape a person’s mind, core, and values … I couldn’t do it half-heartedly. This would be the greatest job I’d ever been given, and I couldn’t afford not to give it my best.

  Come to think of it, Easton would need to pivot also. While he hadn’t lived his life in the shadow of fear quite as I had, he did have a hard time loving. Of course, that would come crashing down the moment he held our baby boy in his arms. Did that mean that his life would be fulfilled too? Was his three hundred years of wandering the same lonely path coming to an end? Was his tether going to fray? And possibly the most pressing matter, was that something that I needed to tell him?

  I curled up on the sofa, laying on my side in the fetal position. Tears pricked my eyes, and eventually, they fell at will. I was ready to sacrifice my immortality if that was the cost for opening up my heart to this little baby, and I would do it fearlessly and wholeheartedly. But if I told Easton, would that meddle in his fate? Would he resent me, or the baby, for not living out eternity with him? Or would he simply live his last life too?

  I hadn’t been set on living forever, though it was something I was told I would do. The thought of traveling the world had become more enticing to me recently. But the possibility of it coming to an end was saddening. And it would be devastating if I weren’t there to take care of my child in their next lives. My eyes grew tired from worry, and eventually, before Easton came home, I fell asleep on the sofa and succumbed to the nightmares of the unknown path I was on.

  Two very long weeks later, and I hadn’t told Easton that I was dying all over again. But weren't we all? I looked around the waiting room at the OB-GYN’s office. All of these people were dying; maybe not today—probably not today—but they were well on their way. The only difference between them and Easton and I was that he and I wouldn’t quite complete the process. Honestly, it was like we failed to launch. We were stuck in some sort of endless time loop. But I knew the way out, and Brooklyn had made me promise not to speak of it. It wasn’t my place to change someone’s path, she would say, and I believed that.

  Easton squeezed my hand when the nurse called us back. My stomach did flips, and my palms were a sweaty mess. Easton did what he could to calm me, but his jokes paled in comparison to the anxiety raging inside me. “Take a seat. I’m going to ask you some questions, and then Dr. Faye will be right with you,” the nurse said.

  I answered the nurse’s questions as she took my blood pressure. We laughed when she stated I was nervous. I thought I had covered it up, but my blood pressure was through the roof. “You’re going to put on this gown. Completely undress from the waist down. The opening will be in the back. Easton will have to wait out in the waiting room during the exam,” the nurse said.

  “Can’t he stay?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry, it’s our policy that during the internal ultrasound, no guests in the room. It’s a tight squeeze as it is. But he can come back for the following check-ups.” The nurse walked Easton out, but not before he gave me a quick peck on the forehead. I smiled and waved him goodbye. Then, I wrestled with the embarrassing smock. I sat on the exam chair and tried to tuck the paper-thin gown around my backside. I looked around the room while waiting for the doctor, swinging my feet with uncomfortable anticipation. Should I have taken my socks off?

  A knock on the door sounded before it opened up slowly. “Hello, are you decent?” A man’s voice asked from behind a curtain.

  “Yes,” I replied, checking my gown again.

  The doctor pulled the curtain back, and I was immediately taken aback by his tall, broad, and ruggedly handsome stature. “Hello, I’m Dr. John Faye, and you must be . . . Becca Green?” he asked, peeking at his chart.

  “That’s me. . .” I said, cheeks flushing.

  Dr. Faye greeted me, making my hand feel small and cold within his.

  “So, is this your first pregnancy?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “How are you feeling? Any morning sickness?”

  “Oh, yeah . . .” My skin heated. The doctor was twice my age, and his hair was in the first stages of turning grey, but if anything, it only made him more handsome.

  “OK, well, that can be a good sign. It means your pregnancy hormones are strong. You’ve got a little fighter in there, I’m sure. And we’re going to take a look today. Are you ready for that?” The doctor asked.

  “Yes.” I twisted my foot around the back of my leg as I clammed up.

  “So this is an internal ultrasound wand; I will be using it to get a better look at the little bean since it’s not large enough to see with the doppler just yet.” My eyes grew wide at the sight of the large grey stick he held up. The doctor rolled backward on his chair and pushed a button near the door calling the nurse back into the room. “I’m going to have you lay down and scooch your bum to the end of the table,” he said.

  I took a moment to stare disbelievingly. I didn’t know what to expect for today’s appointment, but it definitely wasn’t this. I laid on my back and closed my eyes tight, wishing my doctor wasn’t as hot as he was. It made it so very wrong. “Just relax your knees,” he said. The humiliation crowded out every other emotion rolling through my body. “Scooch down, a little more,” he said. I scrunched my eyes tightly and moved down another inch. “Good. A little more. . .” I just about died.

  Mortification ensued until something unexpected happened. “Oh, wow!” the doctor said. My eyes flung open, and I frantically sought out the nurse’s face. Had she not been smiling, I might have had a heart attack.

  “What? What is it?” I asked.

  “Do twins run in your family?” The doctor asked.

  “What?!”

  “Well, if you look at the screen to your left . . .”<
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  I whipped my head to the left and glared at the screen, but I could only see variations of grey matter. The screen could have been broken for all I could tell. “Do you see the two sacs?” Dr. Faye asked.

  “No. I’m sorry, I don’t. Did you say twins?” I asked, looking back at him.

  “Here, why don’t you sit up,” he said, finishing the exam and helping me upright. “Sometimes, two eggs can be fertilized—”

  “But, you said twins?” I repeated.

  The doctor sighed. “Yes. You are having twins. Congratulations.” He smiled while the nurse wrote frantically on her chart. I took a deep breath, feeling somewhat lightheaded by the time I breathed out all the hot air.

  “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t understand,” I said. But that’s not what I meant. I understood how two eggs could be fertilized. I understood how one egg could divide into two. Twins were no mystery to me; but I never once considered it a possibility for me and my body. I only recently concluded that I wanted a baby at all. But two? I didn’t know if I could take care of two kids.

  “Do twins run in your family?” Dr. Faye asked again.

  “No!” I scrunched my brows and shook my head. Then I remembered I was adopted. My genetics didn’t come from my parents now, and not even from this lifetime. I thought back to my first family, and there were no twins that I recalled in their lines either. “No. . .” I repeated, my eyes off in the distance.

  I finished talking with the doctor—no longer concerned with his rugged good looks—and finished dressing. I rolled the smock up in a ball and set it on the chair. When I walked out into the waiting room as white as a ghost, Easton popped to his feet. “Are you OK? Is everything OK?” he asked, searching my eyes.

  “It’s, um. It’s . . . two. Twins . . . there’s two of them . . .” I mumbled something incoherently.