by C. L. Quinn
A tickle started in her belly and spread through her body. Throwing herself down on the couch, she pressed her hands to her chest. She was going to California!
The excitement was so profound, she surged up from the couch. Electricity coursed through her body and she couldn’t stay still. She needed to run, to go to the sea, to say goodbye to the beautiful Atlantic that had kept her sane these past years…to prepare to say hello to a new sea.
Grabbing her key, she hurried to the door, opened it, locked the door, and as she turned, she saw Mr. Dunlavy poke his head out of his door. She turned to him.
“Good morning, Mr. Dunlavy. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
He grunted as his eyes moved over Punk. “You aren’t supposed to be going anywhere.”
“Oh, I’m going somewhere, all right! You have no idea!”
She bounced down the stairs and when she hit the sidewalk, she ran all the way to the beach. It was a beautiful day!
Four days later, in a deep sleep, Punk, awakened by a sound slap on her cheek, driven from her rest, went into a fight or flight mode as she shot upright and shoved herself back away from the side of her bed into the wall. Her eyes wide, her hand went automatically to the cheek that bore a sharp sting. It took a moment for her to suss out what had happened.
This wasn’t the only time she’d been awakened abruptly by her mother, but the first time with such a brutal attack.
“I told you, bitch, I told you! You’ve been out running with some boy with a hard dick, haven’t you? I’m telling you right now, you bring home a demon kid, I ain’t lettin’ you through that door! Push me, just push me, and find out what it’s like to be on the street with a brat you don’t want and nowhere to go but down!”
She was accusing Punk of doing what she did all night long most nights?
Punk dropped her hand from her cheek and pushed off the bed rapidly, her manner so aggressive, Rena backed up. Something in Punk’s eyes scared her.
Rena knew suddenly, just by the way the air felt in the room and the way her daughter stood in defiance, a torn nightgown wrapped around shoulders held back, rigid, powerful. She watched the girl choose her words carefully before she spoke. When she did, Punk’s voice was unsettlingly calm.
“You have nothing to worry about, Mother. By the end of this week, I will be gone and you may have your life back from the horrible interruption of my existence. You can finally live how you always thought that you deserved to live. Good luck with that. Now get out of my room, or I will make you get out.”
After a failed attempt to regain control, followed by several long seconds when Rena wasn’t sure if she was going to scream, punch this girl who dared speak to her like that, or cry, she walked away from the room and out of the apartment. This was the moment that she knew she was finished being a nasty mother to the creature she bore.
Out on the street, a light above her head buzzed as the bulb prepared to die, and the sound of the sea pushing its waters back and forth filled the air. She was grateful that she could put this behind her soon, that she might be able to salvage a small bit of her life.
The child she’d birthed alone, that she knew wasn’t human, that she knew from the first moment that she could never love…she’d actually done it, she’d raised the child to adulthood and done her duty. Badly, she knew, but she’d done it.
She walked until she ran out of cigarettes and the sun began to rise.
Punk stood in the living room when her mother came back into the apartment around noon. A small bag set on the coffee table held everything she owned except her books, but she didn’t have a way to carry them with her.
They stared at each other for several moments before Rena spoke. “So where the fuck do you think you’ll go?”
“I can’t imagine you really care.”
“I care because once you leave, I don’t want you to come back.”
A rough laugh escaped Punk. “Don’t worry about that, it’ll never happen.”
“Good luck, then. And good riddance.”
Punk took one last look at the woman who’d brought her into this world, picked up her bag, and walked out of her life.
There had to be a bus somewhere leaving for Los Angeles.
SEVEN
IN LOS ANGELES
Punk stepped inside and closed the door of the tiny studio apartment she’d just rented behind her. It was barely bigger than a shoebox, the furnished items were shabby, and it had an odd smell, but it was hers.
When she pushed away from the door, she walked a circle around the couch and chair in the center of the room, twice, and then stepped onto the four by four foot balcony to survey the busy street below.
People, moving about, doing their lives…work, school, play, living dreams, loving, raising kids, all around her everywhere she looked. And here she was, one of them, in the middle of all this beautiful life and hope.
She couldn’t breathe. Could she do this? With her poor preparation because she had no idea how to live a normal life? Would they see what she was, that she was an ugly, unloved mess? What she’d come from? And that she really didn’t deserve anything else?
According to her mother, her father had been a monster. Had he really? There was no one more unreliable in her life than her mother. He couldn’t have been, not really, not the inhuman creature that she’d called him all of those years. If he had been, what did that make her?
No, that sort of thinking was over, the years now left behind where they belonged.
It was time to burn yesterday to light up tomorrow.
“I’m better than that and I’m moving forward. That child that I was has grown into the woman I will be from now on. I promise to be gentle and kind to myself and only see the beauty in me.”
Her smile widened as she leaned over the balcony.
All those years, she’d never known when her real birthday was. Her mother had claimed not to remember and she’d never seen her birth certificate until Mrs. Brooks procured it for her. It didn’t matter now.
After a last look, she went back into the apartment, and pulled a small cake from a canvas bag. A specialty pastry shop only half a block from her new home on the same side of the street had an enormous display of scrumptious-looking cookies, cakes and pies in the window.
Punk pushed a small candle into the cake, the first she’d ever had.
Just before she’d left Florida, her new birth certificate had arrived. Punk had been the name her mother had given her, the cruel act of a bitter, angry woman. She would no longer go by that name.
She had discovered that a birth record could be amended if there were spelling errors and she’d petitioned to have the name Punk changed to one very similar by claiming that it was a misspelling. The petition had worked. She had waited until the new birth certificate arrived before she would leave Florida forever.
Now, she lit the little blue candle and bent over to blow it out.
“Today is my new birthday. Happy Birthday Park.”
“Park…” She repeated the name and let it linger on her tongue. Park. Yes, that would do nicely.
“Young lady, you have a remarkable history, your transcripts are exceptional, and the fact that Dr. Bruce Shively has written a glowing letter of recommendation for you is enough for me. I don’t think there will be any problem with your financial aid. Welcome to UCLA.”
In complete disbelief, Park sat in front of the admissions director for the genetic engineering program at UCLA, aware that, against all odds, the life she had designed for herself, and knew the chances were high that it would never happen, lay before her. Reachable, real, a dream within a dream.
Barely aware that she was doing it, she smiled, accepted the packet that the director gave her, shook hands, and walked away from the admissions office into a bright day with a brilliant sun that seemed to shine down on her in approval.
Walking towards the street, she clutched the packet and kept shaking her head.
“I’m here, I’m
accepted, I’m going to do this, I’m finally going to go to school.”
That it would be here in California, at such a fine university, still seemed impossible.
“Nothing’s impossible. Even the word itself says I’m possible,” Park whispered, a phrase she’d read a long time ago, spoken by the beautiful Audrey Hepburn. She’d seen it in a book, and looked forward to someday watching the films the lovely actress had made.
It was another day to celebrate with a cake and a trip to the sea.
EIGHT
TWELVE YEARS LATER
“Don’t forget your date!”
Park rolled her eyes at Bennie.
“I won’t. I promised I’d go, and I will, although I should stay tonight and monitor the results of that new sample.”
Bennie picked up Park’s high-end leather satchel and set it in front of her. “Go. Get yourself fixed up and meet Zach at the restaurant. On time, if you can manage it. I guarantee you’ll like him. He’s hot, he’s rich, and he’s exactly what you need.”
“I need to finish that project.”
Bennie scooted up on the top of her desk. The short skirt she wore rode even higher as she swung her legs back and forth.
“You need sex, and a lot of it. We’ve known each other for years now, and I haven’t seen you come in with a decent afterglow once!”
“Bennie!”
“See? You can’t even talk about sex without blushing. A good night or two underneath Zach should fix that.”
“You know I suck at relationships. I’ve dated and it always turns out lousy. I am only doing this for you because I can’t shut you up.”
“Aw, you say the nicest things. Park, you are an amazing woman, the smartest I’ve ever known. But you’re missing out on half the fun of being young and sexy. I tell you, Zach was thrilled that I set you two up. Just, promise that you’ll try, please.”
“I promise, I promise!”
“Anyway, it’s just one dinner, what can really go wrong?”
Shaking her head, Park smiled. “Nothing ever goes right after someone says that, thanks!”
“Come on, get those gorgeous legs up and let that boy work some magic on you.”
Something twitched between Park’s legs at the thought. Truly, the idea turned her on and embarrassed her at the same time. Bennie was right, she knew that, but every attempt she’d made at dating had met with catastrophic failure.
And a blind date? Epic failure was almost assured. Still, Bennie was a darling, and she had promised.
“Sexy, Park. High heels, wet lip gloss, cleavage. No panties. Okay?”
“Ugh. You are describing yourself, not me, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Bennie hopped off the desk and hugged Park.
“You may be my boss, but you’re also my friend. Have a good time, honey.”
Park nodded and slid her satchel over her shoulder. Bennie had been her receptionist and right arm since she’d taken over the Gen-X lab here at LJP Research in Los Angeles. The position was demanding and prestigious, and had been offered to her over two other incredibly talented genetic experts. She’d been thrilled and humbled at the board’s faith in her.
She hadn’t let them down. This facility was considered one of the finest in the country, its results remarkable for cutting edge technology. They were creating the future here.
The huge salary had allowed Park to do everything she’d hoped to do in her life. Her beach house was three stories of perfection that faced the Pacific and sunsets that she rarely missed.
Gracefully stepping from her beloved Mercedes sports car, she left it in the driveway instead of pulling it securely into the garage beneath a wide deck since she would be leaving again shortly. As she unlocked the patio door with a remote release, she threw her lab coat onto the sofa and dropped her work satchel on a glass end table.
This was the place of serenity that a troubled little girl had sought all of her life. The living room was on the second story, the back of the room all glass that led onto a balcony with an unimpeded view of endless sea and sky.
This was her space, her home, and no one ever told her what to do or how to do it. This was the life she’d built and it was exactly what she’d hoped for all those years ago as she sat in the dark and studied the secret books provided by one of the few people who had ever been kind to her back then. Mrs. Brooks had been gone for three years now, but Park would never forget the woman who’d changed her life.
Park’s chest tightened as her mind slid back there for a few moments, so, digging her toes into the thick carpeting as she walked across the room, she flipped on music that filled all of the rooms at once. Soft, melodic, transforming, the music took her away from those memories and pulled her back to this life she’d built.
Once she poured herself a glass of white wine, she headed to the bedroom.
“Sexy, eh?” she whispered, as she opened the doors to a huge closet. What did she have that would let her date know that she was interested in sex? And did she even remember how to do it?
Park laughed as she pulled out a pair of stiletto-heeled slides, and looked for the teal dress she’d bought to wear with them.
“Sex? Excuse me, sir, could you tell me exactly what that is again? Oh, it’s like riding a bike! Except that I’ve never really ridden one of those either. Let me see, I excelled in human biology, um…yeah, part A goes into part B, shake it all around, and everyone has a good time. Oh, yeah, I remember now.”
Except that sex was perhaps the one thing she’d never gotten right, but to be fair, she’d only done it a few times with pretty awful results. Bennie assured her that when she was with the right man, it would be indescribable.
So, Zach, Bennie’s boyfriend’s college roommate, could he be the right man? He was an attorney from a well-respected family law firm in L.A. with a brilliant smile and an even more brilliant future. Bennie was a romantic, but maybe she was right, too. Maybe.
It was time to step out into the light, to follow that strange strand of destiny that seemed to weave through her life, to reach for Cervantes Impossible Dream.
“To go out on a date with a nice boy and have a nice dinner and to see where it leads.”
Dressed, ready to go, Park talked herself out of calling him and cancelling. Yes, she was out of her element, yes, this wasn’t what she did best, but if anything had taught her how to deal with all of that, it was the life her mother had prepared her for.
“Go,” she whispered.
And she did.
Park’s story continues in Forbidden Days, where it picks up almost exactly where this one leaves off…because this story is finished.
The child has moved on into her life as a young woman, aware that we are all the unique combination of every event and moment that we experience, and of all the people who touch our lives as they come and go through them. This child, like so many, endured much, and comes through to find herself, to be who she was always meant to be.
Charlie Quinn
Go to the next page for an excerpt from Forbidden Days.
Excerpt from:
Book 1 in the Vampire Series “The Firsts”
Forbidden Days
Okay. She’d been convinced to try it again. As a professional woman who controlled all elements of her life, she was used to, mostly, things going her way. She believed that you just had to logically determine what it was you wanted, research until you had a viable plan, and implement it. Period. Usually, things turned out exactly how we designed them. She absolutely subscribed to that philosophy. Except when it came to relationships. Relationships she had never really logically figured out. They had always failed. And that had been okay, too. Her life was full and rich, with enough friends and work associates to enjoy. Financially, her accountant had her set up to retire at forty…if she wanted to. So, she had never really missed a companion in her life. And after the failures? She wasn’t interested in trying again at this point.
But her receptionist Bennie had conv
inced her that she had to meet this man. Bennie assured her that they were meant to be. So here she was at Laberges, a ridiculously expensive French restaurant, that wasn’t her choice, meeting her perfect mate. Right. Not. Well. Maybe.
She stopped before a long row of mirrors to take a quick look and make sure that her open car window hadn’t damaged her hair too much, brushed the bangs back into place, and tucked a few errant wisps behind her ear.
Dating had just never been her thing. People told her that she was stunning. She’d heard it often over the years. Scanning her face, she didn’t see it. What she did see was the other thing she’d heard people whisper about her over the years. That she was a cold fish. That she could see.
She just didn’t connect well to strangers, and she knew that she came off as frigid. Especially with men. But in her field of genetic research, where she spent most of her time, it had never been necessary to have those social skills. Still, she promised Bennie that she would try tonight, really try to be engaging, witty, and interested. And she meant it. She would try.
She nodded at the host, letting him know that she was meeting someone who should already be inside. Ten minutes late wasn’t unusual for her, and she hoped like hell that he hadn’t gotten offended and left. It had been his choice to meet her after work, and well, she worked a lot, late a lot. Her eyes moved quickly over the ten or so diners there so late and found him easily, the only one there with a white lily on the tabletop.
