Jessica (Seven Sisters Book 2)

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Jessica (Seven Sisters Book 2) Page 7

by Amelia C. Adams


  “I will.”

  They chatted for a few more minutes before saying goodnight. After Jessica hung up, she wiped down her kitchen table, thinking the whole time about the appointment the next day. They’d likely take some blood, and while she wasn’t crazy about needles, that wasn’t necessarily a big deal. It was the rest of the testing that had her nervous. If they did a CT scan or an MRI, that would mean going into that tunnel machine, and she didn’t know if she could do that without totally freaking out.

  But she shouldn’t think about that. She had no idea what kinds of tests they’d run, so it was pointless to worry about it. Really very pointless.

  The next morning, she drove to the doctor’s office, then waited in the exam room for what seemed like an eternity until Dr. Young stepped into the room, studying her chart. “Hello, Jessica. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

  “That’s good, right? It means I’ve been healthy.”

  “Yes, but your chart says you’ve been having these headaches since March. That was several months ago.”

  “At first, I didn’t think much about them. It was actually Tracy who made me realize that I should come in.”

  “How is Tracy? I was thinking about her the other day—my car’s been giving me some problems, and it might be time for something new.”

  “She’s always got great stuff at her lot. I’m sure she can find you something.”

  “I’ll give her a call. Now, let’s get back to you. Describe these headaches to me.”

  Jessica told him what the headaches felt like and how she knew she was getting one. Dr. Young nodded as she spoke, but little lines appeared between his eyebrows, and she knew he was concerned.

  “There are several different causes for headaches,” he said when she was finished. “Let’s start with the simplest ones, which are dehydration and too much sodium, fatigue and lack of sleep. Those are all very easy to fix. You said you’ve had your eyes checked recently, so we can scratch that off the list. Then we come to the more complicated causes, such as constriction of the blood vessels in the brain. That can be caused by diet as well, but there could also be spasms taking place that would require medication. Then, of course, the conclusion everyone leaps to first, which is the presence of a brain tumor. I’m inclined to start simple and work our way up.”

  “I like that idea,” Jessica replied. No need to get freaked out just yet.

  “Let’s do some bloodwork just to see what’s going on. I’d like you to track everything you eat and drink for the next couple of weeks, as well as how much sleep you’re getting. Also write down when the headaches occur, and we’ll look for a pattern, all right? After your lab results are back, we’ll decide if you need further tests.”

  Jessica nodded. She was already tracking her dreams—it wouldn’t be hard to add another few columns to her chart.

  “All right, let’s get started on that, and in the meantime, if you have any increase in the severity or frequency of the headaches, call me right away.”

  Jessica left the office with a Band-Aid on her arm from the blood draw and some samples for different kinds of headache medicine. Hopefully, they’d have answers soon and she wouldn’t have to go through anything too frightening or invasive. The main question was, were the headaches causing the dreams, or were the headaches signaling an oncoming dream? And how were those dreams so accurate?

  The rest of the summer passed by quickly. Between running Jake out to the ranch and getting ready for the first day of school, Jessica’s life was pretty full, and then there were more dinner dates with Kent, which were always sweet and amazing. She jotted down everything she drank or ate, tried the new medications, and felt like she was getting back into balance. It had even been a long time since she’d had a dream, but the night before school started, she had one that woke her up in a cold sweat.

  Andy stood in the middle of a living room, a tall man standing over him, glowering. Andy cowered as the man screamed, unable to duck as a fist plowed right into his face. The screaming continued and the blows kept raining down until Andy had a bloody nose and lay on the carpet, his arms over his head.

  Jessica sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding. She threw back her covers and raced for the phone, dialing Jonathan.

  “Where’s Andy?” she asked as soon as he picked up.

  “Jessica? Is that you?”

  “Yes. Where’s Andy?”

  “His father has him for an overnight visit. What’s the matter?”

  “I thought you had sole custody of all the boys at the ranch!”

  “We do for most, but Andy’s case was a little different. He was more of a foster kid, staying with us until his father proved to the courts that he could be a fit parent.”

  “Do you have his address? Do you know where he is?”

  “Yes, I do. What’s going on?”

  “You need to get there as fast as you can. I’m serious, Uncle Jonathan—go!”

  “All right. I’m on my way.”

  He hung up, and Jessica stumbled over to the kitchen table and sat down. Thank goodness Jonathan hadn’t asked any questions—she’d have no explanations. All she knew was that Andy needed help, and he needed it now.

  She tried to go back to sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, she stared at her alarm clock as it counted down the hours and then the minutes until she needed to get up. It was the first day of school the next morning, and she couldn’t afford to be exhausted, but she had no choice.

  She finally got up and hopped in the shower, hoping the hot water would ease some of the tension. After she dried her hair and got dressed, she poured herself some Grape Nuts. Her uncle hadn’t called back to let her know what was going on, and she just might lose her mind.

  She finally called the house, unable to wait any longer. Her aunt answered the phone.

  “No, Jonathan’s not back yet, but I’ll have him call you, all right?”

  “I’m heading for school soon, but he can leave me a message on my answering machine, all right?”

  “All right. I’ll make sure he does.”

  That was the only consolation she was going to get, it seemed. She grabbed her things and climbed in the car, hoping she could do a decent job while yawning every thirty seconds.

  Her new students were overly energetic, as they always were the first day of school, and she spent some time getting everyone calmed down. Then she had to do it all over again after lunch. With so many children being so very frisky, by early afternoon, she felt like she’d done nothing but wrestle puppies all day.

  She was explaining the year’s first writing assignment when the school secretary popped her head into the room. “Miss McClain? You have a visitor in the office—a Bob McClain. I’ll stay with your class while you go.”

  Dad? “Thank you,” Jessica said, leaving the room at once.

  Her father was standing by the front desk when she arrived, a grim look on his face.

  “Dad? What’s going on?”

  “Jonathan called and asked if I could give you an update. Turns out the boy you called him about, Andy, was bleeding internally and had to be rushed into surgery. If you hadn’t called Jonathan, Andy most likely would have died. But they think he’ll be all right now—he’s been sedated and will stay that for a couple of days to give him a better shot at healing, but he’s stable.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” A wave of relief washed over Jessica, and she sat down hard on one of the chairs near the desk.

  “How did you know to call Jonathan?”

  “I had a bad dream,” she said, not caring anymore how odd it sounded.

  “Well, I’m sure glad you took it seriously.” Bob bent down and kissed her cheek. “Good work, honey. Now, I’ll let you get back to it.”

  He left, but Jessica couldn’t get herself to move out of her chair. Her knees were completely weak.

  “Miss McClain, are you all right?” The assistant principal had come into the office and looked at her with co
ncern.

  “I’m fine. I’m just a little . . . well, maybe I’m not quite fine.”

  He frowned. “I think you should take the rest of the day off. We’ll figure out your class—don’t worry about it. And you should have someone drive you home.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I can drive.”

  “No, I don’t think you should. Your hands are shaking.”

  She looked down at her hands. Sure enough.

  “I’ll call my sister,” she said.

  “Very good. Now go—get your strength back so you can teach tomorrow.”

  Jessica nodded, then forced herself to her feet and over to the phone. “Hey, Heather? Are you busy?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “You sure you’re okay?” Heather asked as she covered Jessica with an afghan.

  “I’m fine. Just leave the remote where I can reach it.”

  “Here.” Heather put the remote near Jessica’s hand. “Sure you wouldn’t rather be in your bed than the couch?”

  “If I were in bed, I couldn’t see the TV.”

  “True. Or we could move the TV into your room.”

  Jessica laughed. “It’s okay, Heather. I’m not an invalid—I’m just worn out. There’s no need to act like I’m dying.”

  Heather sat down on the chair next to the couch. “I know. It’s just, you’re my baby sister, and I’m worried about you.”

  Jessica shook her head. “I’m not your baby sister. I’m the second oldest.”

  “All six of you are babies to me. Just accept it.”

  “It’s nice to be watched over, I’ll admit it.” Jessica pulled her afghan a little higher over her shoulders. “Don’t tell Mom about this, okay? All I need is a good nap and I’ll be fine. There’s no reason to worry her.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is? Tracy said you’d gone to see the doctor a few weeks ago.”

  “Yeah, she’s the one who made me go in the first place, so I told her when it was all said and done. For right now, he’s just having me keep a log of what I’m eating and how much sleep I’m getting.”

  “Because apparently you aren’t getting enough of either.” Heather sighed and rubbed her face. “Jess, you’ve got to take better care of yourself.”

  “I will. I promise. I’m all tucked up now, I’m warm and cozy, and you even dragged the phone in here for me. I’m good.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m very sure.”

  “All right.” Heather stood up. “You can reach that sandwich, right?”

  “Sure can. I just need to unbend my elbow. See? There’s this whole hinge mechanism in there that works great.”

  “Stinker. Okay, I have ballet class in half an hour, but if you need me, call me and I’ll cancel it.”

  “You can’t cancel. Those little girls love you.”

  “Well, I love my sister more.” Heather scooted the sandwich even closer, then let herself out.

  Not even a full minute went by before the phone rang.

  “Hey there,” Kent said. “How was school today?”

  Jessica wanted to sound bright and cheerful, but it just wasn’t happening. “Um, it was . . . different.”

  “First day of school’s always the hardest, right? That’s what you were telling me?”

  “This one was more than that.”

  “Do you want me to come over? Jake’s with Jean right now—they’re making cookies.”

  “I’d love to see you.”

  “Be there in a couple of minutes.”

  Jessica hung up and hoped she didn’t look too awful. When Kent knocked a few minutes later, she stood and let him in, then went right back to her spot on the couch.

  Kent sat down where Heather had been sitting just a few minutes before. “You’re always beautiful, but you look tired. What’s going on?”

  Jessica pulled in a breath. “One of my students from last year . . . one of the boys at my uncle’s ranch . . . he went for a visit to see his dad, and he’s in the hospital right now. His dad beat him up.”

  “Oh, no.” Kent slid down on one knee and wrapped his arms around Jessica. “Is he going to be all right?”

  “Yes, but they had to do surgery for internal bleeding.”

  Kent shook his head. “And the dad’s in jail, right? Tell me he’s in jail.”

  “I don’t know, actually. I imagine so.”

  Kent ran his fingers through Jessica’s hair, then tucked it behind her ear. “I’m so sorry you’ve had such a rotten day. I know you care deeply about your students.”

  “I love them,” she said simply.

  “I know. And that’s part of why I love you.” He cupped her cheek in his hand and stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “It’s taken me a little while to be able to say it out loud, but I’m in love with you, Jessica McClain.”

  “You are?” She looked into his eyes. Their warm brown depths sucked her in.

  “I am. And I think you might kind of like me too.”

  “Kind of, yeah. Once in a while.”

  He brought her face closer and kissed her. They hadn’t kissed much since their first one, which was actually all right with Jessica because she wanted each kiss to be special. It always bothered her to see couples who couldn’t seem to keep their hands—or their lips—off each other. This kiss was just right. It was warm and tender, with an underlying current of controlled passion. That’s one of the things she liked most about Kent—she knew he was attracted to her, but he kept things under control.

  When he leaned back, she said, “I might like you a little more often than just once in a while.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. It’s very good for my self-esteem.”

  She sat up a little and made room for him on the couch, then rested her head on his shoulder. Her heart was filled to bursting knowing that he was in love with her—she’d suspected it for a while, but it was so nice to hear. There were things he needed to know about her, though—things that she couldn’t hide from him if she wanted to be honest in their relationship.

  “Kent, I need to tell you something,” she said.

  “And I need to tell you something too,” he replied. “But you go first.”

  Whatever he said, it couldn’t possibly top what she was about to say. “Are you . . . I mean, do you . . . believe in dreams coming true? I don’t mean like, you wanting to be a songwriter and then becoming one. I mean, the dreams you have at night.”

  “Dreaming about something, and then it happens in real life?”

  “Yeah. Like that.”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

  Jessica sat up and turned toward him. She needed to see his face while she talked. “Last March, I started having strange dreams. I’d dream about a person doing something in particular, and then I’d find out they’d actually done that very thing at the same time I was dreaming it.”

  Kent raised an eyebrow. “Like, what kinds of things?”

  “I dreamed about Andy out on the ranch—that he’d stolen some things and hidden them in the barn. The next morning, I found out that’s exactly what he’d been doing.”

  “That’s pretty bizarre. What else?”

  Jessica wasn’t sure if he believed her or if he was just humoring her right now. “The night Jake ran off from Jean’s house . . . I knew where to find him because I dreamed he was at the cemetery. When Jean called me, all I had to do was drive out there.”

  Kent held up a hand. “That’s how you found him? You dreamed where he was?”

  Jessica nodded.

  “How long has this been going on? You said since March?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Are . . . are you some kind of psychic?”

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I have no idea. I just know that it’s real and that it keeps happening. This boy, Andy, from my class . . . I dreamed he was getting hurt. I woke up, called my uncle, and that’s how they found him. At first, I thought they were just we
ird dreams, but now I’m realizing how important they really are.”

  Kent exhaled sharply. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I wouldn’t know what to say either. This isn’t an easy conversation.” She paused. “What did you want to tell me?”

  “It can wait.”

  “No, I don’t think it can.” She’d rather have all her cards out on the table, all the hard conversations over with.

  He pressed his lips together and looked away, then back. “I got a call this morning from Billy Blaine’s manager. He’s been showing my songs to a few of the movers and shakers in Nashville, and they want me to come out there for six months to collaborate with some of their song writers. He says I have a natural ability to see an issue in a song and fix it. He’ll help find an apartment for me and Jake, and I’d spend my time writing songs, which is what I love to do.”

  Jessica blinked. “That’s fantastic, Kent! Writing full time—that’s what you’ve been wanting.”

  “It is, but I’d be gone a long time. Six months—that’s half a year.”

  She tried to hide a smile. “So I’ve been told.”

  “You know what I mean. It’s forever. At first, I wanted to tell him no, that it would be too much upheaval for Jake. The person I thought about most was you—six months right now is during the school year, and the odds of flying you out for visits aren’t very good. But then I realized that this is a sacrifice now to lay a foundation for tomorrow, and I think I need to do it.”

  “I agree. I think you should.” Even though it hurt like fire to say it.

  “If I leave, though, will you still be here when I get back?”

  “Hey, I haven’t dated anyone for a long, long time, and I don’t see that changing. Men aren’t going to start popping out of the woodwork where there haven’t been any men before.”

  “I don’t know about that. You’re an awfully amazing lady.” He said that, but there was something clouding his eyes.

  “Go. Do this amazing thing. And when you’re done, we can reevaluate. We don’t want to rush into anything anyway—Jake deserves better than that.”

  Kent nodded. “You’re being remarkably reasonable about this.”

 

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