“Lexie, now, I understand you're angry. I would be too. I was drunk and high as a kite.” She started explaining. I pulled the phone away and began recording the conversation. Then I brought it back to my ear. “-I’m really sorry about it, I really don’t know what happened.”
“I’ll tell you what happened. I was asleep, you came, in threw me on the floor and beat the shit out of me. That’s what fucking happened.” I snapped into the phone.
“Lexie, don’t you use that language with me.” She snapped. I laughed, anger burned in my belly.
“Oh, you're going to be a Mother now? Not when I was paying the bills on a part-time job so we can eat while you were drunk all the time? Not when you were high? Not when you kept calling me a demon child? But you’re going to be one now?”
“Lexie! You need to listen to reason-”
“Why? So, you can tell me how I shouldn’t press charges?” I snapped. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You found out after rehab you're being charged with a felony.”
“Lexie, I do not appreciate you speaking to me this way. You know you have problems, and you know you're not the most stable person.” I went still, I realized I wasn’t the only one recording this conversation. She wanted to play, fine.
“That wasn’t the first time you hit me.” I made sure my voice was clear enough for both recordings. “And you fucking know it. Whenever I couldn’t make enough money for food, you hit me. Whenever you couldn’t get drunk, ya hit me. Calling me names was your way of saying hello.”
“Alexis!” Oh, she was pissed now. Good. “I only ever disciplined you when you cursed at me.” I snorted at that lie.
“You’re so full of shit your eyes should be brown.” I was done. “Just so you're aware. I’ve been recording this too. I’ll be sending this recording, in its entirety, to the LA District Attorney’s office. Enjoy jail.” I hung up the phone with shaking hands. But man, that fucking felt good. For about five seconds. Then the nausea came back, and the knots in my gut. I wrapped one arm around my stomach and covered my mouth with the other. I focused on taking deep breaths. That fucking bitch. I ignored the tears running down my face and kept breathing. A coat was put on my shoulders, it was mine. I closed my eyes. Of course. “How long?”
“Since ‘Oh you're going to be a mother now?’” Asher’s voice was quiet.
“You didn’t even hear the door open.” Miles’ calm voice added. I sighed. Isaac and Ethan came around to hug me. I smiled as I was squished between them. I really needed the weird twin hug tonight.
“How did that feel?” Zeke asked as he stepped up next to us, his gaze on the snow in the front yard.
“Good, for about five seconds.” The twins let go of me and stepped back. “Now I want to puke.” The rest of the guys came around and filled in the circle.
“When’s the trial?” Zeke asked, still looking out at the snow
“This summer, or fall.” I sighed.
“Do you have to testify?” Miles asked in that soothing voice. All those jagged edges inside me smoothed out, and my stomach unknotted. Miles always did that to me.
“Depends, if they have a strong case. Which they should, then no.” I took a deep breath and added. “If they don’t think they do, they will probably offer her a fucking deal for smaller sentence. Or if the DA is particularly pissed off there will be a trial, then I’d have to testify.” I used my phone to email the entire voice recording to the DA’s email in LA. The guy had been nice and wanted to know if she ever contacted me. I gave my name, a short explanation, and the recording.
“Do you want to go even if you don’t testify?” Ethan asked. I thought about it before answering.
“A part of me does. I want to see her face when they convict. But another part me doesn’t. I don’t want to see the photos, listen to the excuses. And if they don’t convict, I don’t know what I might do if I was there.” I told them honestly.
“When the time comes, if you want to go. We’ll go with you.” Zeke’s voice was soft as he spoke, he was still looking at the snow. I noticed his shoulders were tense. I pushed it out of my mind.
“We’ll see when the time comes, what their chances are.” I looked around at them, they were amazing. My family was amazing. “I love you guys.” It was out before I even thought about it. Oh shit. “That sounded-”
“We love you too.” They all said at once, it was so weird that they looked at each other and laughed. I smiled and laughed too. I was about to suggest we head in when that chill went down my neck, only it was like a blade now. I slapped my hand to my neck and hissed.
“Ally?” I looked past the guys and saw them. And I mean them. Herbert and the McClain’s apparently met and had a chat. They were all coming across the street, and I left my beads at home.
“Oh, you’ve got to fucking be kidding me,” I said my heart racing. “Kit, now.” Asher ran past me into the house.
“How many?” Miles asked, his voice cold.
“Oh, three and they are pissed off.” I swallowed hard as pain racked me, they had reached the curb. “Anyone got a charm? Beads? I’m kinda caught with my pants down here.” Ethan yanked his onyx ring off his finger and handed it to me. I slipped it onto my thumb, Isaac gave me his bracelet. I was putting that on while Zeke pulled off his necklace and put it over my head. Normally I wouldn’t take what they had, but the dead weren’t after them. They were coming for me. They were on the grass. Oh, fuck. Miles held out his necklace. I grabbed it.
“Um, guys inside or back. Take a pick but fucking move.” My voice was getting strained as their pain rushed over me. It wasn’t as bad as it could be but it was still enough to make me double over. The boys moved behind me, not seeing what I was. Miles mumbled something about salt and ran into the house. Yeah, that would be great. But the fuckers could stay till dawn. I had to deal with them if I wanted to go home. My stomach rolled as they reached the steps to the porch. Today was not the day to fuck with me like this. Not after talking to my bitch of a mother. I walked to meet them at the top of the steps. I felt them against my barriers, pushing.
“Back the fuck off.” I snapped at them with feeling. They were pushed back several steps. My nose started bleeding, and I pinched it closed. Tissues appeared over my shoulder. I took them and used them instead. The ghosts were shaken, they didn’t understand what I had just done. “I am working as fast as I can to get the link going.” I reminded them in a strained voice as my head started throbbing.
“You aren’t working hard enough!” Mrs. McClain shouted. I felt pressure in my head.
“It doesn’t help when you fuckers keep me up at night, so I can’t rest.” I looked at each of them. “I am not going to burn myself out for you.”
“Salt, Lexie.” Miles' voice said from behind me. A big salt shaker was handed over my shoulder. I took it and unscrewed the top as the world started to waver. I wasn’t going to get jumped today. No. Tomorrow was Christmas, and these fuckers could just back off. Big talk coming from the girl who wanted to puke her guts out right now. But still. I put a few pinches in my mouth, even tucked some salt into my pockets. The ghosts glared at me. Their energy hit me hard. But with the charms, they couldn’t touch me. That didn’t mean they couldn’t tear my barriers apart. Pain tore through my head as they kept shredding. My mind was starting to feel raw. Oh, you fuckers. I was pissed.
“I said no!” I shoved them back several more feet. I took deep breaths as I followed them. I was done with this shit. I walked down the stairs. Yeah, my body was in agony, but I wasn’t going to take this anymore. I had that hard feeling in my chest, and I was fucking going to use it. “I’ve told you and told you. I’m busting my ass for you fuckers, and all you want is faster, faster.” I snapped, with each word I pushed them back further. Their eyes grew wide, their mouths gaping. I felt wetness running down my ears, and down my neck. “I get that you're impatient, but I’m not going to die for the dead.” With that, I shoved them out into the street. “The time where my famil
y dies for you shits, is over.” They backed off, glaring at me as they backed away. I held on until they were out of sight. Then I wobbled. My hand went to the trunk of a car, I bent over and threw up. Repeatedly. Someone got my hair out of the way, and someone else steadied me as I was sick again and again. I felt like I was puking up my toenails. I wanted to pass out, but something told me that wasn’t going to happen today. Oh, those fuckers ruined Christmas Eve. Eventually, I stopped puking, and the guys gave me some nausea tablets. It took four today. My eyesight was still fading in and out with my pulse, and I was kind of out of it. Miles carried me back into the house and set me on the couch. I closed my eyes to try and deal with the pain in my head. I was still holding tissues to my nose, my eyes were still streaming from being sick.
When the bleeding finally stopped, and the pain had eased, I opened my eyes to find Miles sitting on the coffee table in front of me. The others were spread around the room waiting. I knew what that must have looked like to them. Me yelling at nothing they could see. I wish I could show them sometimes, just let them know I’m not crazy. Miles saw my eyes open. His gaze narrowed on me.
“Lexie, you were bleeding from your ears,” Miles said gently, his voice worried. I nodded.
“Yeah, that happens with long exposure to the dead. Hell, if they stayed long enough I’d be deaf for a couple days. But in this case, it was three with upped energy. They haven’t started to rot, but they’re drinking the Kool-Aid now.” I shook my hand showing them their charms. “These kept them out, but they just tore the shit out of my barriers.” I looked at each of them “Okay, how crazy did I look?” They all looked at each other.
“Um, Lexie.” Isaac began. “When you shouted at them, telling them to back off. They kind of... shimmered.” I looked around the room at them wondering if he was joking.
“You mean…?”
“We saw them, a couple times, just for a split second,” Miles explained with a straight face. My mouth dropped open. I blinked at them. The guys chuckled, it wasn’t often they got to surprise me in this area. I had to ask.
“Okay, did you guys get a good look?” They all nodded. “Gotta ask. What did they look like?”
“One guy was big, had a nasty walrus mustache.” Ethan began.
“There was one woman, very put together,” Asher added.
“Yeah, she looked like she had a stick up her ass.” Isaac continued.
“There was an older guy, very rich looking.” Zeke kept it going.
“The McClains were there.” Miles shocked us all to silence. Miles gaze met mine.
“You know who they are?” I asked quietly. He nodded.
“Jennifer McClain, and Henry McClain. My Father was friends with Henry. I saw in the paper that they died a few days ago, murder-suicide.” Miles explained. “But, they died in Aspen. Not here.” I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that they saw them. Let alone Miles being able to identify them. Oh, the world's spinning again. I rested my head in my hands and took deep breaths.
“Beautiful?”
“Oh, for the first time in my life, I just might faint.” My voice sounded as shocked as I felt. They had fucking seen them. “You fucking saw them.” I took a deep breath. “You fucking saw them, enough to describe them. You fucking saw them.”
“I think we broke Red.” Isaac stage whispered. The guys chuckled. When I could. I looked up at them. I knew they believed me before about the dead, hell, they even saw Mary Summers. But they saw those fuckers out there, even for just a second. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. They saw them too. My eyes filled as I looked at each of them. They fucking saw them. All I could say was.
“Best fucking Christmas present ever.”
A couple hours later I was feeling better. When it was around nine my reminder on my phone went off. I had somewhere to be.
“I’m headed out guys,” I announced as I got to my feet from the couch. The guys looked at me with either surprised looks or confused ones. Yeah, it was weird for me to be the first one to leave, I never usually did. I ignored the looks as I walked into the foyer and started pulling on my coat. I heard all of them getting up, it made me smile. I turned to see them standing in a semi-circle behind me. All of them looking for some sign that something was wrong. “Guys, I just have something I need to do,” I reassured them. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.” That seemed to make them stop worrying. I gave each of them a hug and kissed each twin on the cheek. Everyone said goodbye, and I headed out to my Blazer.
When the truck finally warmed up, I headed out to the small church on Rose Drive. The Catholic church wasn’t huge, but for a town this small, it didn’t need to be. The parking lot was almost empty, the Christmas Eve service was just over. I only knew that because I looked it up earlier today. No, I’m not Catholic. But Mary Summers was. I climbed out and headed for the door. The church was built with gray stone. The stained glass was beautiful, especially lit up from the inside. I stepped into a small foyer with a double door made of dark wood. I looked around the foyer and didn’t find what I was looking for. So, I opened one of the doors and walked into the church's empty main chapel. It wasn’t as fancy or elaborate as the ones in LA. It was simple, no frills, no elaborate decorations. It seemed right that way. I found what I was looking for. I pulled off my jacket, my scarf and walked down the side of the church to the alcove there. The statues of Jesus and Mary were at the back of the alcove. I’ve never gone to church in my life, but you don’t grow up seeing the dead without looking at a bunch of different religions. In front of the statues and surrounding them, were large stands filled with votive candles in little red glass candle holders. Not a lot of them were lit tonight.
I put my coat down on the edge of a pew before walking into the alcove. I pulled out the cash I brought to help the church pay for the candles and put it in the small box there marked donations. I thought about Mary Summers, pictured her face as I picked up a couple matches. I lit one for Mary Summers. She had loved this church, had loved singing here. Then I lit one for Dad. It was my Christmas Eve tradition. Every year I’d go to a church somewhere and light a candle for him. It wasn’t always a Catholic church, but they did make it much easier to do. A door opened as I shook out the match and put it into the small sand-filled bowl the other matches were in. I thought about Dad and how much I still missed him. The rest of the year I never thought about it. If I did, I’d push it away and focus on something else. But tonight, I could. Tonight, I let myself miss him. I let myself feel how much. Tonight, I could cry over it. I stepped out of the alcove, sat down in the pew across from it and cried. It wasn’t sobbing crying, just tears running down my face crying. I remembered his face, the way he always smelled like wood smoke even when he wasn’t working. I remembered him reading to me, then when I was old enough, I read to him. I remembered how he’d make chocolate chip pancakes every Christmas morning. How he’d always be the first one up, then he’d be jumping on my bed like a kid yelling ‘It’s Christmas! Lexie! Get up!’ I was wiping my face when someone sat next to me. I took a breath of wintergreen. I looked up not surprised to see Miles next to me, his gaze on the back of the pew in front of us. I let out a small breathy laugh that barely made any sound.
“Did you all follow me?” I asked in a whisper. “Or just you?” Miles' emerald eyes met mine.
“Just me.” He kept his voice quiet. I gave him a half smile. “I didn’t know you were religious.” I looked at the back of the pew in front of us as I answered.
“I’m not.” I wiped my face again now that my crying was stopping. “It’s just my tradition for Dad.”
“You light a candle for him.” His voice was the silky smooth one that calmed me.
“Every year.” I swallowed hard. “I light a candle for him, sit down and let myself do what I never do the rest of the year.”
“You mourn him.” I smiled at his word choice.
“I cry. Yeah.” My voice was still quiet.
“Do you want me to-”
“No,” I assured him. “It nice not being alone this year.” Miles reached over and took my hand. It was the first time he’d ever done that. It was always me grabbing his hand.
“This year you lit two.” He said softly. I nodded.
“One for Dad, one for Mary.” His hand gave mine a gentle squeeze. I pointed over my shoulder and up towards the choir loft without even having to look behind me. “She sang in the choir up there. The second spot in from the left, first row.” Guilt ate at me. I know she had been suffering from all that energy. I know that she was glad to go in the end. That knowledge didn’t take away all the guilt that I had over killing her soul. Nothing was going to take it away completely. We were quiet for a couple minutes, he didn’t seem to know what to say. So, I just started talking. “I started doing this the Christmas after Dad died. Mom was drunk, so I went for a walk and saw a Catholic church open.” I looked over at Miles to see if he was bored. He was listening with his gaze on the back of the pew in front of us. “I got curious and went inside. I saw the candles and lit one for him.” I took a breath and let it out. “Then I cried my eyes out.” I smiled sadly looking back towards the front of the church. “I’ve been doing it every Christmas Eve since.”
“Does it help?” I nodded.
“Yeah, I cry less every year. And it helps to do something that shows I remember him.” I shrugged. “It’s probably not what the candles are for, but it’s what I use them for.” Miles pulled out his phone and started doing something. I knew what he was doing. It was Miles. He was looking up what the candles were for. I watched his face as he looked for the answer. He had a little wrinkle between his eyebrows when he was concentrating as he was now. It made me smile, it was a small one, but it was there.
“That is exactly what they are there for Lexie.” He looked up and met my eyes. “To pray for someone.” My smile got bigger.
“It’s good to know I’m not fucking up some candle thing I didn’t know about,” I admitted honestly. His expression changed, his smile disappeared and his eyes unfocused. It was his thinking face.
When the Dead Come a Knockin' Page 37
