The Second Life of Everly Beck: The Tethered Soul Series Book 2

by Laura C. Reden

  A woman opened the door, still drying her hands on a dishtowel. The women exchanged pleasantries, and once the warm cookies were handed over, the lady invited us inside. As much as I had protested before, I was more than willing to step into the air conditioning. My family and I sat on the sofa, Tanner and I like perfect gentlemen when it mattered most. The neighbor called her daughter down to meet us.

  “Becca, come meet the neighbors!” she called. I still remember my cheeks getting hot in anticipation. But everything changed when I saw her. It was like I had finally found something I didn’t remember losing. I smiled, gripping the bridge’s railing as I grounded myself in the present moment.

  The low hum of a motor whizzed by, and I looked over my shoulder, though I shouldn’t have. It was tricky being back in town just one life over. I had a good chance of running into someone I once knew, and since I looked identical, only a little younger, it was something that I had to be aware of. It had happened to me before, coming face to face with past loved ones—it frightens them. It’s painful to see someone they once loved but had to close the door on so that they could move on with their life. I didn’t want anyone from Beck’s past to see me. I pulled the baseball cap down to shield my eyes.

  I stood there for hours, willing her to find me. I watched the river run wild. Listened to the blackbirds crowing above as they searched for prey. I counted the cars that passed by: eight. All the while, I slouched with an empty heart and a fear that I couldn’t see. If I had only known she was safe and happy, I could take the time needed to find her. But I knew nothing for certain, and it was draining.

  People like to say it’s a small world, but you only hear that when a coincidence occurs. In reality, far more people are missing their chances than getting them. And more opportunities are lost than found. I wouldn’t allow Beck to be a lost opportunity, though. I was going to find her if it was the last thing I did. Luckily, I had a lot of time on my hands, making the probability of keeping my promise strong. I lingered on the bridge until sunset, unable to pull myself away from the feeling of being closer to Beck than I had been in years. When the sun dipped behind the mountains and the air dropped several degrees, I decided today wasn’t the day. I’d begin again tomorrow with fresh eyes and enthusiasm.

  I hitched a ride to a nearby hotel, only stopping when I saw the Red Brick Diner along the way. I asked the taxi to pull over and keep the meter running while I grabbed some dinner to go. It wasn’t the Red Brick Diner anymore, though, as all things change over time. Now, “The Taste of Italy” glowed above the doors, and unlike the Red Brick’s signboard, this place had all of its letters in fully working order. It had a fresh look too. After a moment of debate, I decided I would take the chance of being seen, though I hid under the bill of my hat the best I could.

  I tugged at my collar, trying to hide the lines of my jaw as I walked into the pizza joint. You never know what will spark a memory in the minds of the mourning, and sometimes it’s something so little that it can’t be described at all.

  The smell of freshly made bread comforted me, and my focus turned to the grumbling in my stomach and the watering in my mouth.

  “Can I help you, sir?” It was a perfectly round lady with a chip on her shoulder. Sue.

  Did she remember me? I took a step back and looked down at the ground.

  “Well? Can I help you or not?” she said.

  “I’d like to make a to-go order,” I said, looking everywhere but into her eyes. A pinball machine rattled and chimed as two kids thrashed about, their entire world spinning because of two quarters and a red button. A boy riddled with acne on what appeared to be his first date. And a couple sitting across the room from him with shifty eyes. His parents?

  “Well, what’d ya want? I’m no mind reader!” Sue barked.

  I looked her in the eyes. She needed this more than I worried about getting recognized. “I’m sorry, you just have the most beautiful eyes! You probably hear it all the time.” I shook my head and looked away, hoping that she was as easy to win over as she was years ago. The Hawaiian pizza looked phenomenal.

  “Oh! You devil, you! Stop that!” Sue giggled like a schoolgirl. My heart sank for her. So grumpy. So unhappy. She just wanted to feel special. But she was so scared of rejection, she made everyone hate her before they ever got the chance to see her.

  “I’m serious! You go home tonight and tell your man, he’s a lucky one!” I said.

  “Ohhh, well, believe it or not, there hasn’t been one of them in a long while. But I have to say, if you weren’t so young, I might’ve gone after you, you handsome devil!” Sue trailed her hand ever so slightly across one of her large breasts, even though she was well into her seventies and I was twenty. Her efforts made me chuckle, and a slight warmth spread across my face. Sue bounced with amusement.

  “Well, I guess in another lifetime, huh?” I said.

  “Guess so. What can I get for ya, dear? The pesto is really good tonight.” Sue pointed to a picture on the wall.

  “Pesto? OK, that sounds great, I’ll take one to go, please.” It wasn’t my favorite. But the girl needed a win, and I’d already committed to being in her corner.

  I paid Sue with a nice tip and sat in a booth while I waited for my pizza. I watched the people go about their lives, and I wondered who they were and where’d they go. I wondered what kept their minds satiated when the daily grind wasn’t enough. I had my guesses about all of them, but I looked for clues that would stand for evidence. It was when I was mid-evaluation of a businessman ordering dinner, that I saw a girl with blonde hair escape into the ladies’ room. My stomach dropped at the cool ash tone of her locks. I jumped to my feet as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

  Was this it? Had she come home, looking for me? For her parents? I scanned the room before moving booths to one a little closer to the women’s restroom, where she could not escape without me seeing her face in full. As the seconds ticked by, my palms started to sweat and the beating of my heart echoed in my ears. What would I say to her? How would she react when she saw me? Would she still love me?

  The ladies’ room door swung open, and my breath caught in my lungs. But when she emerged, my breath let out freely in despair. She was just another face—just another almost. Her skin tone was light, and her lips a contrasted pink; she looked a lot like Beck, but no doubt it was a different soul.

  “Green! Pizza for Green!” Sue called out, her voice booming over the chatter and arcade games. I got up, disappointed, and retrieved my pizza but not before I put on a cheerful face for the server that had worked well past her prime.

  “Don’t be a stranger!” Sue called.

  I turned around and waved to her. The blond haired girl caught my eye as her boyfriend reeled to get her attention as she stared mindlessly at her phone. “Everly! Look at this!”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, my feet unable to keep momentum. Could it be her? Was it possible I’d forgotten the face of my soulmate? I shook my head, dispelling the thought. I could never forget. Then I realized as I peered over to her table, the girl must be Beck’s niece. I squinted my eyes shut, taking a split second to absorb the pain, and then I forced myself forward. Tightness closed around my chest as I came so close but not close at all.

  By the time I arrived at the hotel and got situated in my room, my pizza was cold. I tossed the box on the table and grabbed a slice, sinking my teeth into the cheesy pesto. It wasn’t half bad, though Hawaiian would have been much better. I threw myself on the stiff bed and landed with a thud. Nothing like a rock-hard mattress to pair with my cold dinner and lonely heart.

  I pulled up directions to Beck’s old college on my phone and wrote them down on a hotel notepad. It would be the first place I checked tomorrow morning. Once I exhausted my efforts in research, I turned on the TV. Four slices of pizza and two hundred channels later, I fell asleep with the lights on and my shoes still tied tight. Sometime in the middle of the night, I’d kick them off and climb under the covers, but it
didn’t matter; I would never have a good night’s sleep on that mattress anyhow.

  I woke with a jolt; the room lit with the sunrise. It was the same dream I’d been having for the past month. The one with the woolly mammoth sized twin boulders. I dodged one successfully, but the other was about to shake loose and there was nowhere for me to run. I hopped to my feet and shook off the dream. Already dressed for the day, I collected my things and checked out of my room. I would have grabbed a coffee in the breakfast bar, but I had an itch for Fresh Ground’s coffee, and I hoped they were still open some twenty years later.

  I threw my backpack into the taxi and clasped the driving directions tightly. I didn’t need directions for Fresh Grounds, though. That was still locked into my memory. Staring out the window, I reminisced about all the local spots Beck and I had once frequented. Hunters still stood strong, though it had received a facelift at some point over the years.

  When we pulled into the parking lot of Fresh Grounds, I was disappointed to find that the place had closed, but at least what had opened in its place was yet another coffee shop. The cab driver parked, and I walked into what was now Stanford’s Coffee. The little coffee shop had the same library vibe as before. Perhaps even more vintage now than it used to be. A few people waited in line, and I busied myself examining the changes. The faces of the employees were different, though the average age remained the same; they all were young adults. The seating configuration was a little different too, as they had replaced the leather chairs with old, green suede sofas that were decorated with ornamental wooden feet. The books on the shelves were so old they were falling apart.

  “Sir, can I help you?” a young lady called to me.

  I took several strides forward, unaware of my surroundings and lost in memories.

  “May I have a latte to go, please,” I asked as I pulled my hat down around my eyes.

  “Sure, that will be $3.99,” the pixie cut barista said.

  I frowned, took out my wallet, and handed her a five-dollar bill.

  “Thank you. That will be right up,” she said.

  I placed my change in the tip jar and busied myself looking at the old book spines. The smell of a good book only intensified with age. I imagined what treasures they hid within. What wise, artful words were left behind though the authors themselves were no longer here to share their stories.

  “Latte, to go!” the barista called out.

  I picked up my coffee and headed straight for the cab. “Step on it, my friend,” I said to the driver. As we got closer, the gentle tugging at my soul became increasingly urgent. I knew I was on the right path.

  Chapter 3

  Norton University was breathtaking as I stared out my window. The institution was made of stately red brick and covered in old ivy. The lush green lawn stretched for what seemed like miles. Students everywhere. My eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find Beck, but there were too many to vet them all. I didn’t know if I was in the right proximity or not. Still, I had to try.

  I stepped out of the car, and the gravel crunched under my shoes. The spring air was crisp and full of promise. My eyes bounced from every ash blond head as I made my way through the courtyard. Small groups of students with books in hand gathered at the benches and leaned against various trees. I listened to the conversations as I passed—in one ear and out the other.

  “Brian’s a prick. Don’t listen to him!”

  “Did you see the latest episode of . . .”

  “Sorry, I have to work tonight. But maybe I can . . .”

  I took the stairs two at a time, eager to get inside. It didn’t disappoint. High vaulted ceilings. Ornamental wooden staircase. The college was stunning. I could see why Beck had chosen it in the first place and why she might return. I walked the halls checking countless class names until most of the students had disappeared and the chatter quieted. When a tall slender woman wearing a name badge passed by, I thought I better ask for help.

  “Excuse me? Can you point me toward graphic design?”

  The lady slowed her rushed pace just long enough to answer my question. “Yes, you’re going to want to head over to the west wing.” She pointed vaguely as she spun back around and continued on her mission. As my luck would have it, I’d been wandering in the wrong direction.

  Making my way across campus once more, my memory drifted back to the day Beck and I had pretended to wed as children. All I had to remember her by was the one photograph. We had been eight years old the day we got married. She made me wear her dad’s dress coat and tie. She wore her mom’s dress and sunglasses. Beck held her pet bunny—our witness—who was also dressed for the occasion. Her mom thought it was adorable and snapped a photograph. Printed two copies for us to keep. It had hung on my bulletin board back home. Every now and again, I’d take it down and wonder where she was and how I would find her. If it was truly her—and I knew it was—we’d have an eternity to find one another. But if I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to wait that long.

  I scanned the classroom plaques, which told me I had made it to the arts wing. I passed several classes where Beck may have been, had she chosen the same career path as she did in her last life. I picked an introductory graphic design class to kick off my investigation. Slipping in the back of the class with little disruption, I took an open seat next to an older gentleman. My spirit lifted at the sight of people learning in all stages of their lives. Whoever said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks was simply inept. The man smiled at me as I took my seat.

  I placed my backpack on the ground. Unlike all the other students here, my backpack was filled with clothing, not books. My stomach wrenched with excitement at the thought that Beck could be sitting just a few rows over. Would she make a scene when she saw me? Scream? Drop her books and bound into my empty arms? Would I propose to her right then and there? Should I? Right here in front of everybody? I saw it then, myself on one knee, presenting her with the ring. She’d be cupping her mouth, stifling her squeals, and the students would be spellbound. The story would turn into gossip, changing along the grapevine until it was a different version altogether. It was kind of romantic in its own way.

  I lost myself in the daydream. It wasn’t until the gentleman next to me packed his stuff that I snapped back to reality. Faces were passing now, and I searched them one by one.

  I spent my day on repeat until the school day was done and I’d marked off three classes and one lunch hour. Unless I wanted to come back every day of the week and sit through as many classes as I could, I would have to find a better way. I pondered the idea of hacking into the school’s database and searching the attending student list and schedules. Unfortunately, in all my years, hacking was one of the few things I never studied.

  I swung my backpack over my shoulders and started the long walk to the parking lot. My eyes searched the various faces as I questioned if my childhood neighbor had been Beck at all. I was young and impressionable. Had I made it all up to comfort me in a time of grief? Was I in love with my childhood neighbor, and the girl from my last life? I frowned at my fresh worry with distaste, and I rubbed my hand across a furrowed brow to erase my angst, though I still felt it in my chest. Surely, there wasn’t two loves in my life. As I walked through the sea of bodies, I was transported back to the ridge of my dream, where the monstrous boulder had begun to rumble.

  I sighed. I thought living a few hundred years with no purpose was hard, but nothing could be worse than finding your purpose and losing it. Now that I’d felt Beck’s love, I couldn’t go back to a life of solitude. My very existence clung to the hope that she was alive and waiting to be found. “You found me.” Her voice still floated through my mind, clear as the day she had said it.

  I located my ride and opened the trunk. As I threw my backpack inside, I caught only a split-second glance of the back of a head. Ash blond. Ducking into the passenger’s side of a white truck. Frozen, I watched as the truck drove away. Before I knew any better, she was gone. What made that blond head any diff
erent from all the others? I hadn’t even seen a face, yet somehow my sights were set on this girl and this girl alone. Could I rely on my wrenching stomach? Or my eyes that saw only the back of a girl? I couldn’t. But something inside me was telling me I should listen to the pulling on my chest. Like an anchor set in my heart.

  Even though I knew Beck would most likely not come to school every day of the week, I did. After leasing a new black BMW, I finally had a place to gather my belongings. It was my first step out of the transient life and into one with roots. Never being one for commitment, I yearned to have it all with Beck.

  I brought a laptop, sat under a large oak tree with a vast view of the open courtyard, and busied myself in the stock market, buying and selling stocks until I was sick of making money. The sun made its way across the sky, and I remained still beneath it as I waited for her. I knew now that I didn’t need to see the faces passing by, I only needed the tugging in my chest to become so strong I’d be forced to follow it. Two days is how long it took for that familiar feeling to resurface, but it might as well had been an eternity beneath the oak tree.

  Nearly forty-eight hours after my first potential sighting of Beck, it happened again. My heart pounded, and my palms moistened. The smell of grass became overwhelming and the sun almost too bright to see. Tiny goosebumps stood to attention on my arms as if receiving the signal. Every sense I had was now sharper, as I knew my chance had arrived, and I couldn’t miss it.

  I searched for what I could not see but knew was close. A group of three blond girls walked by. In the far distance, I could see a figure similar to Beck’s. A small frame positioned on the stairs. A face buried in a hoodie, reading a book. None of them were Beck. It was only when I started to doubt myself that I saw the white truck pull into the parking lot.