by Lari Smythe
Chapter 12
I was standing by the window thinking about all that had happened. Nothing seemed to go right for me—I'd chosen a family only to have them taken away—I'd fallen in love only to feel his mother's scorn. No, things weren't going very well at all. Jason's jersey was getting to be a little too much, so I opened the window. The winter air was crisp, refreshing, but it didn't help as much as I had hoped. Staying with the Whitaker's was going to be more of a problem than I expected. Before, I had had ample time to slowly adjust—even that was incredibly difficult, but now I was immersed in everything Jason, not to mention his mother.
The driveway was just around the corner from my room. The backdoor opened and then Jason's Jeep started. What was he doing going out on Christmas Eve, I pondered? I had no memory of Christmas or any holiday for that matter. A shiver ran though me as I remembered the whole church thing from earlier. I know that Jason thought my existence opened up the idea that maybe God was real, but he was totally unwilling to accept that if God represented good, then I had to be evil. I didn't feel evil, especially when I was with Jason, but there was no denying there were those of my kind that were very evil. I thought about Debbi and wondered if my little experiment had cost her her life. Then there was Benjamin and Elizabeth, I'd surely brought trouble to them, and no matter what they said, I still wasn't convinced I wasn't at least somewhat responsible for what happened. I could only hope that they were right, and that we were all safe.
Jason's jersey was still too much, so I tossed it on the bed and then draped a blanket around my shoulders. The moon was visible now and it's soft blue light washed over me.
In the distance, the exhaust leak of Jason's Jeep, he was on his way home.
"Miss Faulkner!"
I yanked the blanket closed and turned, surprised I was taken off guard. "Yes, Mrs. Whitaker."
"I'm not sure how you sleep at home, but please keep your clothes on. My son is only human."
"I—I had some kind of reaction to the material—maybe an allergy or something. I didn't mean any harm, but I didn't have my clothes."
She walked into the room and set my clothes, neatly folded, on the end of the bed. "Well, we all need a little time to adjust. Make sure you close the window tight before you go to bed, these old wooden ones can be quite stubborn." She stopped at the door. Merry Christmas, Izzy."
"Merry Christmas, and Mrs. Whitaker—"
"Yes."
"I know how this must have looked, but I meant what I said earlier. I'm sorry. I'll be more careful, I promise."
"Well, I'm sure it was just a lapse in judgment." She closed my door and the light from her room momentarily shown under the door. Jason came in and fumbled around downstairs obviously trying to be quiet. Finally after another hour or so the house was quiet.
