I snorted a snotty snort. “You’d do that for me?” I asked, some semblance of a smile crossing my mouth.
“BFF’s for life, I’d do anything for you, you know that.”
“Um, Claire,” Melody chimed in, “the second F in BFF kinda implies ‘for life.’“
“Shut up Melody,” we said in unison, giggling.
“Don’t you worry about a thing. Just ignore whatever irrational feelings for Ben you’re having and I will put Operation Get With This in full effect, okay?” Claire said, brushing my hair back from my face.
I didn’t know how well Claire’s plan was going to work, but I did feel better getting some of my Ben guilt off my chest. If he knew what was good for him he’d stop confusing me and really get with Claire. With somebody, anybody, that didn’t have a kick-butt boyfriend already.
The lady that was running the cake tasting returned from the front of the store, ready to take Claire’s order. “Have you made a decision, Miss Vargas?”
“I have and is it possible to get the rest of this cake wrapped up to-go? I’ve got a guy friend in need of a little sugar.”
I got myself busy brewing Mom a cup of tea while she talked with Melody. Claire was making an awesome spectacle of herself feeding Ben cake with her hands. All was right with the world. Tomorrow was Sunday and I would finally get to see Avery.
Frank offered to drive Mel and Claire home, so after we all said our goodbyes I spent the rest of the day going over my GED study materials. Not killing my brain difficult, but not the easiest concepts either. I was gonna actually have to study pretty hard to pass the tests.
That evening, after re-reading Avery’s note for the hundredth time, I decided that I would bring his Christmas present to church with me the next day. I pulled the vintage Mickey Mouse t-shirt from its shopping bag I’d stowed beneath my bed. Claire had taken me to a cool thrift store in Bend and as soon as I saw it I knew it was the perfect gift. Now we would be a matching dorky set, me in my Minnie Mouse nightshirt and him in his Mickey tee.
Chapter Eleven
Christopher attempted to shut the door to Pastor Paul’s basement office with his elbow while balancing fifteen bibles in his arms. Before he dropped the whole lot, he hurried to the center of the room where the youth group met and dumped the stack of bibles onto the large wooden table.
“Here, Pastor Morris, let me help you with those.” Avery picked up several of the scattered bibles and began placing them at each seat around the table.
“Thanks, Avery. You’re here early this morning.” Christopher watched him as he walked around the table, feeling the nervous energy rolling off of him. There was a square shaped lump in Avery’s coat pocket. Hmm, Christopher hadn’t glimpsed what it was, although he could guess that it was most likely some sort of cubic zirconium trinket in the shape of a heart.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep very well last night, so I was ready to come to church at like seven o’clock. What time do you get here?” Avery asked, leaning over the table and grabbing a couple more bibles.
Christopher smiled. No doubt Avery had been sleeping less soundly since his forced break-up with Zellie. Poor horny kid. “Oh, I usually get here around 8:30.” He ducked his head, chuckling, “Although I am running late this morning. I had the opposite sleeping problem you did, it seems.” He’d pushed snooze on his alarm three times before coming to terms with the fact that he had to get up and get to church. Sometimes pretending he was an Assistant Pastor sucked, especially the waking up early on Sunday part. He and Wes had been at it again the night before, and while their coupling was always satisfying, Christopher often felt afterwards like he was on the verge of slipping into a coma because he was so exhausted. He must be getting old; being with Wes didn’t used to make him so sleepy.
The sound of people quickly clomping down the stairs turned Christopher and Avery’s attention to the stairwell. Melody came into the room, reaching up and tagging the doorframe with her fingertips. Zellie followed, not far behind, holding a shirt box wrapped in silver snowflake-patterned paper.
“Good morning, fellow Jesus people,” Melody said, striding over to the table and taking a seat.
“Melody,” Christopher chided, “I’m not sure your dad would like you referring to us all as ‘Jesus people.’”
She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Fellow children of God. That better?”
He rolled his eyes back at her, exaggerated. “Sure.”
Zellie timidly came forward and sat next to her sister, her eyes on Avery, clutching the present to her chest.
“What have you got there, Zellie? For me?” Christopher teased.
“Huh?” She asked, tearing her gaze from Avery momentarily.
Christopher went to the head of the table and sat down. “That present. It isn’t for me is it?” Damn. Zellie and Avery were more into each other than should be legal. The intensity of their eye contact made him feel a little uncomfortable. Liam was the only person he’d ever felt that way about, probably the only person he ever would. Well, this wasn’t going to do at all. He was going to have to use some divine intervention to keep them apart.
When Zellie didn’t answer him, he cleared his throat. Melody snorted out a laugh. Avery sat down across the table from Zellie, both of their expressions longing. He reached out his hand to Zellie and she just barely shook her head no.
“Okay, guys look at me,” Christopher said loudly. All three of the kids snapped to attention. He was going to be forced to improvise and cover his ass later if anyone questioned him. “Your parents have informed me that you two were caught in a compromising situation and that I am to make sure that no funny business occurs between you.” Both cast their eyes down, their faces heating. “I’m going to give you a choice. Melody and I will leave you alone for five minutes and make sure no one disturbs you while you exchange gifts, but Avery is not allowed to come to youth group anymore.” The pair shared a knowing glance. “Or,” Christopher continued, “you swap gifts, right now, across the table and then have no more contact, but both get to continue attending group.” They looked at each other again, coming to a mutual decision in a split second, choosing as he knew they would.
“We’ll take the five minutes,” Zellie said, assuredly.
“Okay then,” Christopher rose from his chair, “Melody and I will be in the stairwell on lookout.”
At the word, Melody, Zellie, and Avery all stood and laughed nervously.
Avery rushed around the table to me, banging his leg into the corner. I winced, and stepped toward him, closing the distance between us. Not missing a beat he grabbed me by the shoulders and pressed his mouth to mine. I could hardly breathe and I could hardly care. Who knew when or if we would have a chance to be together again?
“I love you,” I whispered into his mouth. There wasn’t any way I was going to be like the dream me and not tell him that.
He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against mine, relaxing his grip on my shoulders. “I love you too.” He grinned, and I had to fight the urge to trace his beautiful lips with the tip of my tongue. “I’m glad you chose to be alone with me, I had to kiss you one more time.”
“Three minutes!” Melody shouted from the stairwell.
Avery stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small box. “Merry Christmas.”
I took his gift with my right hand and thrust his gift at him with my left. “Merry Christmas.” I nodded at the shirt box, “You first.” I had a feeling the present he’d gotten me was going to be a lot better than the one I’d gotten him.
“Okay.” He ripped into the paper and yanked the lid off the box. “Cool!” He held the shirt up to his chest. “Cruel, but cool.”
I slapped his arm. “What’s cruel about a t-shirt?”
He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Minnie Mouse has come to represent many naughty, naughty things to me, Zel. Every time I wear this shirt, I’m going to be thinking--”
“Avery, we’re in church!” I put my hand on
his chest to push him away, but didn’t.
He skimmed his lips across my jaw line, lingering over my mouth.
“One minute!” Melody called.
As much as it killed me, I separated my mouth from his. “I need to open your present!” I tore the paper from the little box and opened it, only to find a small green velvet drawstring bad inside. Avery took the bag from me and spilled the necklace into my open palm. Tears sped to my eyes, my heart aching.
“We’re coming in!” Melody said, warning.
I lunged at Avery, hooking my arm around his neck, crushing his mouth to mine. Memorizing him. Too quickly, he was backing away from me, t-shirt in hand, passing Melody and Pastor Morris as they came into the room. I watched him leave, never taking my eyes off of him. Sinking down onto a metal folding chair, I opened my palm, staring at what had been enclosed in my hand. Avery had given me a pendant in the shape of a bullet, on a silver chain, engraved with the words, “My heart is yours.”
Yeah.
And I’d given him a t-shirt.
“So, that’s not the bullet, is it?” Ben asked, putting his face a little closer to the necklace hanging between my breasts than I’d have liked.
I scooted down the log we were sitting on. “No, it’s not an actual bullet, but that’s not the point, is it?”
He backed away from me, studying my exasperated expression before looking out at the stream. “I guess not.” He smiled. “Sure beats the hell out of the mix cd I made you.”
I softened a little at that. “Crap, I didn’t get you anything.”
He shrugged. “I could use a scarf if you’re asking; it’s colder than a mother out here.”
“Yeah, okay, what color? Mel and I are going to Freddy’s tomorrow to get some stocking stuffers.”
“Well,” he said, tucking his hands into his armpits. Perhaps a scarf and glove set. “When my eyes aren’t bloodshot to match, I’ve been told I look quite dashing in red.”
I wondered who’d told him that. Probably Connor. Ben did wear a lot of red.
“Red it is.” I joined him in staring at the water.
We sat quietly for a long while, both of us contemplating. Eventually, I turned to him and spoke. “I’m not giving up. Not ever. I don’t care if you think it’s stupid for me to try and be with my trigger--”
“It’s not stupid, it’s brave,” Ben interrupted. He shook his head and turned to me. “I’ve been thinking, if you figure out the loophole, well then I’m going to try and get Connor back. Frank and I will help you in any way we can.”
I stood up, extending my hand to him. “Then let’s get started. I want to learn to talk to spirits, starting with Avery’s dad.”
“You got it.” He stood without taking my hand.
No touching, no flirting. This version of Ben was one I could trust myself with. I needed him to be the version that stuck around.
We walked up to the cabin and went inside. Mom was in her usual place on the couch, playing Solitaire on Aunt Hazel’s laptop.
Ben nodded for me to sit in the recliner. I sat. “Mr. Adams is right next to your mom on the couch.” He addressed the blank space beside Mom. “Zellie wants to be able to see you, if that’s okay.”
Mom looked up from her game. “Really, honey? I think that would be great. I know Mike would enjoy talking to you.”
I doubted that very much, but kept my mouth shut.
Ben stood in between me and the couch. “All right, here’s how my mom taught me. It’s more similar to seeing people’s dreams than it is glimpsing, so you’re not totally screwed,” he said, a faint smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.
“Just tell me what to do, smart ass.” I focused on the spot where Mr. Adams was supposed to be.
“Mrs. Wells--”
Mom shifted uncomfortably. “Grace is fine.”
“Grace, if you think of anything I’m missing, speak up.”
“I will.”
Ben turned to me. “You know the, uh, crumbling thing that happens when you see dreams?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so it’s that level of concentration. Think about Mr. Adams. Picture him sitting there on the couch in the flesh, what he’s doing, what he’s talking to your mom about. Fully. You get what I’m saying?”
“I do.” I closed my eyes.
“But you have to do it without closing your eyes.” I looked at him, confused. “Not until the last second, at least. You’ll feel when you need to. Retroacts have to do this a little differently than a seer who has this as their primary power.”
Like with the discovery of all of my abilities, I didn’t know what the hell was going on and just had to trust that spirit communication was going to come to me the way it came to me. I brought my attention back to where Avery’s dad was sitting. I imagined him there, in a black t-shirt and beat-up jeans, his hair like Avery’s, silver-brown, curling over his ears. He sat with both feet on the ground; they were clad in white tennis shoes. I thought of him the way I’d seen him last, the way he looked the day he died. Today I put a pleasant expression on his face. He was holding Mom’s hand, rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of it. They were talking about baby names and couldn’t agree...
My eyes squeezed closed and then opened again. Mr. Adams flickered before me, leaning forward, staring intently, his mouth moving like he was trying to tell me something.
“Do you see him?” Ben asked.
“Almost. He’s, uh, fading in and out.” I closed and opened my eyes swiftly again, hoping to clarify the image, but nothing changed.
“Huh, okay,” Ben said, thinking. “And I’m assuming you can’t hear him?”
“I can’t, but you obviously can?”
“Yeah, he’s singing Sweet Child O’ Mine and completely mangling it.” Ben looked at the couch and laughed. “Well, you are!” he said.
Mom patted the air next to her. “I think it sounds good, baby.”
“Okay, before I start barfing, can I try it again?” I said, wishing that I had another spirit to practice on besides my mom’s boyfriend.
Ben sat down on the floor. “Keep trying until you can do it.”
Chapter Twelve
I spent several hours each day trying to see Mr. Adams, but never got more than a flicker of him. When I wasn’t thinking of Avery’s dad, I was thinking of Avery. My only choice was to tell him about what happened with Ben in one of our weekly notes, but it just seemed so cruel, especially when I couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him it was never going to happen again.
Christmas came and I decided that was not the day to break Avery’s heart, so I left him a short and sweet note, thanking him for the necklace and telling him for the billionth time how much I loved and missed him. He was with Mom and his dad all day on Christmas while Melody and I spent the day at church with Dad, helping him and Assistant Pastor Morris with all of their duties.
In the evening, Avery went home and Mel and I joined Ben and Frank at the cabin for Christmas dinner. Since Mom couldn’t be on her feet cooking and Melody and I were gone all day, Frank had asked one of the cooks from the lodge to make us dinner. It was one of the nicest things anyone could have done for me and Melody. Our family was broken, but we got to be with new people that we cared about and have an untraditional traditional Christmas dinner. I could see why Ben was happy and lucky to have him as his father figure.
Melody finally got the cell phone we’d both been wanting for years, although it came with the condition that it only be used during emergencies. My parents gave me a new bible, which I thought was more subtle than a chastity belt, but not much. As promised, Ben had made me a mix cd and I gave him a red and black striped scarf with matching gloves. Avery had left me an equally short and sweet note, saying all the same things I’d said, but with the addition of a couple more smiley faces.
My life went back to what was becoming my normal routine the next day. Since I didn’t go to school, I wasn’t on vacation and Mom hinted very strongly tha
t I needed to spend more time studying for my GED. So, I studied and I tried to see Mr. Adams and I entered Avery’s dreams at night.
I rolled from my bed at a leisurely 9:00 am, shivering as I walked over to the chest of drawers and pulled out a sweatshirt. Annoyed to be living on the side of a mountain in January, I brusquely turned and toed underneath the foot of the bed for the fuzzy duck slippers Melody had given me for Christmas. A duo of pitiful quacks sounded as I jammed my feet into their warm duck fluffiness. I listened at the door to the bathroom. Mom was taking a shower. I knocked loudly on the door and then opened it, shuffling over to the toilet to pee.
“Mom, I’m in here, okay. I promise not to flush while you’re in the shower.” I rubbed my eyes and picked the sleep from them.
“Don’t flush!” Mom called, sticking her head out from behind the curtain.
I looked up at her. “I just said I wouldn’t.”
“Make sure she doesn’t flush, I don’t want you to get scalded again, you’re not so fast these days,” said a male voice. In the shower. With my mother.
I stood quickly, yanking my pajama pants up. Without thinking, because who can think in this kind of situation, I flushed.
“Zellie!” Mom yelled, flinging back the shower curtain and awkwardly hopping out onto the bath mat.
“Sorry!” I yelled back, my eyes meeting Mr. Adams’, who remained in the shower, the scalding water running through his body.
“Hand me a towel!” Mom said. I reached over and grabbed my mom’s towel from the hook on the wall and tossed it to her.
“You can see me, can’t you?” Mr. Adams asked, crossing his hands in front of his ghostly junk.
“Huh?” Mom looked back at him as she dried her hair and then at me.
I wished for spontaneous blindness, for the ability to move, to leave this situation that was sure to scar not only me, but all of my and Avery’s future offspring for life. Me being me however, I just stood there willing all the towels hanging on the wall to fly across the room and make the parental nakedness go away.
Zellie Wells Trilogy Page 26
