Claire grimaced. “Okay...so...I think you need to call him and let him know that saying you’re a freak was a lame move. You need to tell him that he is going to damn well talk to you and he better thank his lucky stars that he’s alive--”
Nothing. Wrong again. “It’s not working. I don’t want to say any of that stuff to him.” I started to put my hand down.
“Wait,” Claire said. “Pretend you’re in church, or sitting behind him in school. I’ve watched you staring at the back of his head for years, Zellie. You love him and he loved you too. Don’t forget that. Think about why you were...”
I saw him lean into me, rest his forehead on mine, heard him say, “I’m going to kiss you now.” I felt his soft lips, ached for his fingertips pressing into the small of my back. Thigh touching thigh. My hands in his hair, sliding it through my fingers. His smell. His taste.
Claire froze for a second, and then she reached out and picked her shoes up off the couch.
“That’s the key, Zellie,” Grandma said.
Putting on the right shoe, followed by the left, Claire looked straight ahead and placed both feet on the floor.
“Figures. Whatever, he’s still a buttwipe,” Melody said as she went into the kitchen.
I brought my hand down. Between getting up earlier than normal, the excitement of the day, and all of the rewinding, I could feel exhaustion coming on. I went over to the couch and collapsed next to Claire. “Phew! I don’t feel like I’m going to faint or anything, but I could use a nap.”
Melody came back into the room and handed me a large glass of water.
“I think we’ve made some great progress today, don’t you, Rachel?” Aunt Hazel said.
“I think my granddaughters did wonderfully...and Claire too of course.”
“I’ve got several errands to run.” Aunt Hazel went to the coat rack by the front door and retrieved her massive black purse. She put her sunglasses on. “Melody, you’re welcome to tag along if you’d like.”
“Sure, why not?” Melody followed Aunt Hazel out the door, turning to wave as she left. “See you all later.”
“Bye.” We all waved back.
Grandma pulled me up from the couch. “Let’s get this turned back into a bed and let you rest.” Claire helped her unfold it.
I fell onto the bed and snuggled with my pillow. I was so sleepy. Damn it, Avery, my trigger, my key. He’d better apologize and fall madly in love with me again; it was for the greater good, really. I needed him whether he knew it or not.
It was dinner time before I woke up. Aunt Hazel had ordered a pizza. She’d been too busy running errands to make anything from scratch like she normally did, which made her a way more normal person in my eyes. My mouth watered, I was star-to-the-ving. I grabbed a slice of pepperoni and perched on a kitchen chair, my legs tucked up to my chest.
“Want a pop, Zel?” Claire asked, taking a Coke from the fridge.
“Yes, please.” I took the can. “How are you feeling? I’m still kinda wiped.” I chugged half the pop.
“I’m good. You’re the one that exerted all the energy.” Claire sat down at the table, flopping two slices of pizza onto her paper plate and salting them.
“You’ll get used to it eventually,” Aunt Hazel said. “With Rachel it took about a month before she acclimated.” She leaned back against the kitchen counter. She folded her pizza slice in half before she took a bite.
Grandma and Melody mopped the grease from their slices with napkins. We all ate. Claire’s cell phone rang in her pocket. She took it out and flipped it open.
“It’s my mom, I better take this.” She dropped her pizza onto her plate and hurried out the front door.
Grandma raised one eyebrow, looking after her. That was strange. Maybe she was getting weird vibes from Claire too.
“Twice in one day?” Melody snorted. “I don’t think they even talk to each other that much when they’re in the same town. Wonder when our parents are going to call?”
I stretched my legs out in front of me and looked at Grandma. “Well, I was thinking that I might try and see what they’re up to dream-wise?”
She nodded. “That would be okay. It really is the easiest of the abilities to get the hang of. All you have to do is picture the person and concentrate.”
Melody took another piece of pizza from the box, she bypassed the grease mopping this time. “That’s great, but I would actually like to hear their voices. Can we at least call Dad tomorrow?”
“We’ll see, Melody.” Aunt Hazel brushed crumbs from her hands into the sink. “Your grandma wants the timing to be just right with your mother. She doesn’t want to hurt her anymore than she already has. We also don’t want to risk your dad asking too many questions too soon or any of us giving too much away.”
Melody crossed her arms across her chest. “Fine.”
Grandma got up from the table and threw her paper plate away. She rinsed her pop can and tossed it into the recycling bin under the sink. “Who’s up for some more Big Brother? I do hope they get rid of that girl with the impossibly fake breasts, they’re so distracting.”
Chapter Twelve
“Cool, Claire, thanks. I’ll call you tomorrow and tell you what happened. Wish me luck.” Avery hung up the phone and went down the hall to the guest bedroom. He knocked on the door. “Mrs. Wells?” She was crying. She was always crying.
“What is it, honey?” She blew her nose.
“I’ve...I just got off the phone with Claire. She’s been telling me all sorts of interesting...” He looked down at the list in his hand, a list full of impossible things. “Can I come in? I’ve got something to show you.” He tried the knob. It was locked.
“Hold on, I’ll be right there.” She shuffled to the door and opened it.
Mrs. Wells was wearing sweatpants and one of his dad’s old t-shirts. Her eyes and nose were red and raw. She’d been staying with him since Zellie and Melody went to Portland. She said it was because he shouldn’t be alone, and that it was just until his mom came back, whenever that was going to be. Avery knew it had something to do with Pastor Paul not liking the way she was carrying on about his dad.
Hell, even he was starting to feel better and the last time he’d talked to his dad they’d fought. Mrs. Wells was a wreck. It would be great if she could talk to his dad. Maybe he’d tell her to take a shower and eat something. Go take a walk. Leave the guest bedroom.
Avery handed her the list. “Like I said, I’ve been talking to Claire and there are some things you should know.”
She scanned the list and handed it back to him. “Avery, honey,” she said and her eyes filled with tears anew, “I would love nothing more than to see your dad again, but I think I know more about these abilities than Claire does.” She tried to shut the door, but Avery stuck his foot in the doorway, holding it open.
“Try, for me. Please? If you can see him and I hold you hand, I can see him too.” He’d be damned if he was going to let her give up that easily.
She stepped back and opened the door. They stood there for a moment and then sat on the end of the bed. She looked at him. She blushed the same way Zellie did. A pang of regret hit him. He was the stupid freak.
“All I’m supposed to do is think about your dad and if he’s here I’ll be able to see him?”
“That’s what Claire said.”
“If it was that easy, don’t you think I would’ve felt him around me or something? Don’t get your hopes up, okay? I doubt this is going to work.” Mrs. Wells reclined on the bed and closed her eyes.
A minute later she sat up and grabbed Avery’s hand, squeezing her eyes closed tight and then opening them up again. “Do you see him?”
Avery gripped her hand to keep them both from trembling. “Yeah, I see him.” His dad was standing right in front of him. He looked different, sort of transparent? Yet he had the same clothes, same complexion, he didn’t look dead...he looked peaceful. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, Son, how’s it going?”
“Uh, it’s going weird.” Still holding hands, Avery and Mrs. Wells scooted over, making room for him to sit down. “Where are you? In heaven? Purgatory? He--”
“Hey now!” his dad chuckled, sitting down on the bed. His weight didn’t register. He put a hand on Mrs. Wells knee. “I’ve been with her since I died. I think this confirms that I’m officially attached to you, Gracie.”
She tried to touch his hand, but hers passed through his and rested on her own knee. She left it there anyway. “You’ve been with me this whole time? Through everything?”
He nodded. He put his hand to her stomach and gazed into her eyes. “Everything.”
Avery looked away, his dad’s comment registering. He dropped Mrs. Wells hand. “I’ll leave you guys alone for awhile.” He got up and went into the hall, closing the door behind him. He leaned against it, listening in on their one-sided conversation.
“Yours, Mike,” she said. “Of course I’m going to keep it!” She paused. “I know. Paul and Becky will be devastated, not to mention the kids.” There was silence and then laughing. “You should’ve died a long time ago. It’s the best thing that ever happened to us.”
Avery slumped to the floor and crawled across the hall into the bathroom. He made it to the toilet and threw up. The best thing that had ever happened to Mrs. Wells and his dad was ruining his life. Didn’t they see that? How could they be so selfish? How could his dad continue to torment his mom from beyond the grave? Another wave of nausea hit, he heaved again.
In the guest bedroom, Mrs. Wells giggled, oblivious, and said, “This is some crazy stuff, huh?”
Grabbing a wad of toilet paper, Avery wiped his mouth. He’d bought into Mrs. Wells theories and rules because Zellie had frightened him, because she had kept information from him. He could see now why she’d done that. Zellie was protecting him, keeping it together for the both of them. She was making sure they didn’t become the next Mike and Gracie. And he’d treated Zellie like crap. Well, at least she’d thrown rocks at him. He would always have that precious memory.
Steadying himself against the wall, Avery stood and stumbled back across the hall. When he opened the door, Mrs. Wells had a goofy grin on her face.
He went to them, taking her hand and addressing them both. “I’m going over to Jason’s for a few hours. Tomorrow I’m calling Zellie and begging her to come home. That is if she’ll talk to me after what I’ve, we’ve, put her through.”
“Son, it’s still not a good idea--” his dad reached out to him.
Avery stepped back from him as his hand flowed through his shoulder. “No. You two don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. I’m happy you get to be together, but maybe you should have taken that chance all those years ago, y’know?”
His dad and Mrs. Wells looked at him, confused. They were in their own world. “Because you’re about to screw up all of our lives? Again? Forget it.”
His dad reached out to him again. Avery stayed put this time. “No. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore, either of you. Zellie and I? We’re going to do what we want. We’re going to be together now, if she’ll have me.” Avery turned and left the room calling over his shoulder, “Mom and Pastor Paul better know about this baby by the time I get back. Everything out in the open. That’s the only way I see this working.”
Free from his guilt and his dinner, Avery jumped into the pickup and headed to Jason’s.
I turned off the television and lay back in bed. It was eleven. Grandma was asleep in a chair with her feet propped up on the end of the fold-out couch. So much for guidance. Melody lay still beside me, probably worn out from her day of sleuthing. Claire slept face down with a pillow over her head. Aunt Hazel had gone into her bedroom hours ago.
For all intents and purposes I was alone. Just me and my half-assed psychic powers. All I had to do was give myself over to it. Apparently, my body knew how to use all of my abilities if I could just manage to get out of my own way.
I pictured my parents sleeping, dreaming away in their cozy little bedroom in Rosedell, a light summer quilt covering them. Dad was most likely snoring, his arms flung up above him. I imagined Mom, curled up on her side, her hair fanned out on the pillow. Content? I hoped they were. I closed my eyes. Put myself in their room, next to them, watching. The image crumbled and fell away.
Standing behind the pulpit, Dad spoke to the congregation. I looked out at them. Mom and Mr. Adams sat together in one pew. Melody and dream me, Claire, Avery, and Mrs. Adams sat in another. Dad held the Bible up over his head, the light through the stained glass windows illuminating the gold cross on its cover. We all snickered at him, holding our hands up to our mouths. Mom stood up and pointed at him, laughing the loudest. Dad threw the Bible. It hovered in the space above them and then burst into flames.
I opened my eyes. This was not helpful. Why wasn’t Mom asleep? Was she conscious of Dad’s nightmare? On the verge of coaxing him awake, soothing him?
Closing my eyes again, I turned onto my side. Of course I wasn’t sleepy now. Should I try Avery? Risk knowing what was going on in his subconscious? With him, it somehow felt like a violation of his privacy but...so tempting. I better not. He’d be in my dreams soon enough when his vision made its nightly appearance.
I searched for the remote amongst the covers and turned the television back on, quickly turning the volume down. I ran through the channels until I found an infomercial. Those were good to fall asleep by.
“Hello, Avery.” A female voice he didn’t recognize said into the phone.
“Claire?” He looked at the clock on his bedside table. 7:12, why the hell did she keep calling so early? “Are you under a bed again? You sound different.”
“No. This is Zellie’s grandma,” the voice whispered. “Listen closely. You cannot continue to be in touch with Claire or try to contact Zellie in any way. They will be back in Rosedell soon enough--”
“Zellie’s grandma that’s dead? As in Mrs. Wells’ mom?”
“Yes, Avery, now pay attention. It is important that you don’t call anymore.”
Well, in that case, he’d just hop in the truck and drive up--
She sighed, annoyed. “Or come to Portland. This is altering your and Zellie’s future in an unfavorable way. Her vision about you is changing. I’ve seen it.”
Avery huffed. “Great. I’m supposed to believe you now? What is it with all of you grown-ups?”
Zellie’s grandma huffed back. “There is nothing “with me” young man. If you want to survive another year on this earth you’ll listen to me. No more calls. Got it? And not a word to Grace about me. We’ll be in Rosedell on Monday.” She hung up.
Screw that, Avery was sick of listening to adults, they didn’t know what was going on any more than he did. He got out of bed and pulled his pajama pants on. Everything out in the open, no secrets. He crossed the hall to the guest bedroom and brought his hand up to knock on the door, when he heard Mrs. Wells talking to herself again.
Chapter Thirteen
I opened my eyes and looked toward the chair grandma had been sleeping in. I heard her talking in the other room but couldn’t make out what she was saying. What the hell time was it anyway? I pawed at the end table next to the couch where Claire usually kept her phone, but it wasn’t there. Must have fallen on the floor. Well, whatever time it was, I was awake, might as well try the dream thing with Mom--
My eyes snapped shut. Guess it was glimpse time again.
Mom rolled over in a strange bed and said, “I don’t know how long it’s going to take before I believe that you’re actually here.”
A transparent Mr. Adams grinned. He lay beside her. “We have forever, Gracie.”
She snuggled into the pillow and glanced through him at the bedside table. There was a folded up piece of paper on it. “Can I try something?”
“Sure,” he said.
She reached out, leaning into him. She inhaled sharply. “It feels like being in the static on the TV.” She stay
ed there for a moment. “It’s amazing.” Electricity coursed through her veins.
He curved away from her. “We don’t know what that’ll do to you.”
She pouted. “Fine, but it’s not like I can say ‘hand me that piece of paper.’ I just wanted to try.” She reached over him and retrieved it.
They lay on their backs, my mom reading aloud.
“One. Mrs. Wells can talk to Dad if she just concentrates.” She motioned like she had a pen. “Check. Two. Her and Zellie can see other people’s dreams.” She turned her head to Mr. Adams, “I stumbled on that one on my own.” She read the next item. “Three. They can see glimpses of the future. The big picture. If they focus on a specific event.”
She flopped onto her side, facing Mr. Adams. “Jesus, just think of what I could’ve seen if I’d known that.” She looked toward the ceiling. “Thanks, Mom!”
Both of their eyes opened wide. He grabbed her hand as best he could.
“Do you think?” Mom said, “Oh my God, what if they’re both here? What if my parents have been with me all along?” Her eyes filled with tears. She rolled onto her back and shut her eyes. Tears spilled onto the bedspread. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
“I’m staying put.” He tried to squeeze her hand.
After a minute Mr. Adams cleared his throat. “Open your eyes, Gracie. Your dad’s here.”
“Daddy?” Another transparent man, tall, with dark brown hair, about the same age as my dad, stood next to Mom’s bedside.
“Hey Red, it’s been awhile.”
Mom sat up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Is Mom with you?” She looked around the room.
Her dad reached out to her, cupped her face in his hands. “Oh, sweetie, your mom’s not dead. She’s in Portland.”
Zellie Wells Trilogy Page 13
