by M. W. Muse
I slumped into my chair. "That's insane." If a little voice was telling me to consider what Don had told me about Chrys and his family, I wasn't listening. How could I begin at assess everything?
"Look, my mom will be back any minute, so you need to listen to me. Mom doesn't like you or your mother, so she's obviously not happy about this prophecy. I don't know Don, but I don't have any ill feelings toward him, either. I don't think you should talk to him about this because he will not understand. Although, I also think you should watch out for him. If the only thing that keeps us apart is his death, I wouldn't put it past my mother to make sure that that happens."
The bell sounded as the front door to the store opened. A moment later, Ms.
Gorge walked into the break room with bags of food and put them on the table.
She dished out the food with sincere-sounding pleasantries and left. We ate quickly and worked without speaking. I caught Chrys staring at me a few times, but he tried to play off those moments as nothing. I wondered what he could be thinking. I already knew what I was thinking.
How could any of this be possible? Maybe I should have listened to Don and not talked about this with Chrys. Instead of simple answers, I got responses that created new questions. Then I thought about Melissa. She told me I'd be going through changes. Were these part of the changes she mentioned? Strangely, that felt right.
"Are you okay?" Chrys finally asked. "Fine," I said without making eye contact.
"I'm really sorry," he whispered. "More than you know."
I took a deep breath and looked at him. "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine." I shrugged and turned to the shredder.
I heard his chair move but didn't turn around. His hand on my shoulder startled
me.
"You know you can talk to me about anything."
He felt like I could talk to him about anything, but I didn't feel that way. To me,
he was still someone I hardly knew. I couldn't deny he was the only one who'd offered me any explanation. I didn't want to close off this source of information. I didn't want to encourage him, either. He might have felt connected to me, but I didn't feel that way with him. I wanted to be with Don.
He returned to his seat, and by the time I was supposed to clock out, we'd finished going through all the boxes. As I got up to leave, Chrys stood and stretched.
"I hope you have a nice vacation." He stepped over to me. "It's going to be boring without you here next week."
I smiled, though immediately understood what he was really trying to say. He would miss me, but being that direct would be too forward at this point.
As I passed Tracy on my way out, she handed me some mail to put in the mailbox. I glanced at the envelopes, needing something to focus my attention on while I made my escape, but I suddenly found myself studying them intently. I never really paid much attention to the address before. I just knew the store was on Main Street. I felt the blood draining from my face by the time I reached the mailbox and had to grip it to keep from falling.
The street number to the store was 1887.
Another facet of my dreams had come true. I needed to talk to someone, and there was only one person I could talk to about everything. I drove straight to Chloe's house.
I tried to rationalize why I dreamed that specific number. Chrys was worried about his mom, so maybe some force was telling me to watch out for Ms. Gorge through my dreams. Melissa did say my mom would be contacting me and didn't know when or how. Could my mom be sending me these messages through my dreams?
Maybe his mom wanted to stop me from attaining my full powers, and my mom left to protect me from those who'd know my potential. If so, she could come back when I turned eighteen because the danger would be over. I would be powerful then, too.
Everything Chrys said clicked. Everything, except what he said about Don. I could not believe that. I felt bonded to Don, not Chrys. Even though Don and I were taking things slowly, I still felt our relationship was destined to be something great. I knew it. Don knew it. Just like I knew I needed air to breath, I knew through every fiber of my being that Don was meant for me.
Chloe was home when I got there, and she could see how distraught I was. We went up to her bedroom, and I spilled my guts. I told her about the dreams, what Don said about the Gorges, and everything Chrys told me, not holding anything back. She was shocked but quickly shifted into best friend mode, suggesting we do our own research on Greek Mythology. We made plans to conduct research on our own while I was on vacation and meet up afterward on our findings.
I felt bad about the whole prophesy thing. Chloe wasn't having any of that. "I'm not going to pretend my feelings aren't hurt, but I don't blame you. Heck, I
don't even blame him. It's not your fault. Apparently, we're dealing with destiny or some other force. And from what you've said, this is all new to him, too. Besides, I really do kinda like Zach."
I'd been so absorbed in my own drama that I'd forgotten to even ask about him. Some friend I was. I quickly rectified that by asking how her date went, and she giddily
brought me up to speed. We talked about her date with Zach and my dates with Don until I went home. Don had made plans to come over to see me off, and I didn't want to miss one minute of my time with him.
I was struggling with my suitcase, trying to get it in the back of Melissa's SUV, when Don pulled up.
He walked over to me and took the suitcase out of my hands with a smile. "How was your day?" he asked as he effortlessly put the bag in the vehicle. "Long." That was the truth without giving too much away.
He turned to look at me and took both my hands into his. "I've missed you all day. I'm really going to miss you this week." He pulled me into a hug. It felt so right. Chrys had to be wrong. I hugged him back and pressed my face into his chest.
"I'm going to miss you, too."
He let go of me, and took my hand to lead me into the house. He helped Melissa pack her car with hers and Laurel's bags while I supervised.
"Don, would you like to stay for dinner?" Melissa asked as we walked into the
house.
"Yes, ma'am," he responded politely with a smile but quickly glanced at me for
approval. I rolled my eyes but nodded.
I offered to show him the rest of the house. We toured the rest of the downstairs before heading upstairs where I pointed out each of the bedrooms, saving mine for last.
"Here's my room." I opened the door, walking in with him following behind. "Hmmm . . ." He smiled.
I was too nervous to ask what he was thinking, so I grabbed my new necklace and showed it to him.
"Wow. It's very beautiful." He had an unfathomable expression on his face. Then he turned playful and glanced around my room again.
"What?" I giggled nervously.
"Nothing. It's just not what I expected." He shook his head but seemed amused. "You know when you read a book and visualize how something looks, but when that
book is made into a movie, the director's visions aren't always similar to the ones in your head? It's not necessarily a bad thing; it's just different."
"Are you telling me you've visualized what my bedroom looks like?" I asked as I put away my necklace.
"Maybe." He was playing coy. He'd obviously thought about it. I liked that.
"What else have you visualized, besides my bedroom?"
"I've envisioned a lot of things," he said, smiling, taking a step forward. "You have?" I played along, taking a step in his direction.
"Mm-hmm." He took the final step toward me and ran his hand down the length of my arm.
"Season, dinner's ready," Laurel said as she popped her head into my room. I jumped, taking a step back, and Don dropped his hand to his side, smiling.
We vacated my room and met up with Melissa putting the last of the food on the table. While we ate, there was rarely a quiet moment, which was nice. We all seemed to enjoy the conversation, regardless of whom it was directed at.
When finish
ed eating, Don walked with me to the living room where we visited until dark, talking, laughing, making plans for Saturday, and exchanging email addresses since we already had each other's cell numbers. When it was time for him to leave, I walked him to his car. We were standing by the driver's side when Don leaned against the door with his arms crossed.
"I hope you have a blast at the beach." He tried to sound happy. "It'll be over before we know it."
"I really do want you to have fun. But avoid heights. No parasailing," he teased. "That won't be a problem." I stepped closer and stroked his cheek.
He uncrossed his arms and lightly clutched my waist, pulling me against him. I put both my arms around his neck and eased my head against his chest, listening to his heart. He leaned his head down against my hair and held me for a long moment. There
wasn't anything to be said. Everything we wanted to say was already being communicated.
Don kissed the top of my head and then my forehead before resting his forehead against mine.
"Season, please be careful." "I will," I whispered.
Then leaning over, he buried his face into my neck—where I could feel his hot breath against my skin—wrapped his arms around my back and lifted me off the ground in a tight hug. I clung to him while he turned his head slightly and kissed my neck.
He put me down and held my face in his hands. "Goodbye," he whispered.
I stood outside watching him drive away, wondering how I'd get through this week and wondering how much weight to put into what I'd learned from Chrys.
Chapter 11
To say that our trip to Florida was not ideal would be like saying Hell was just a desert resort.
Nothing went right.
A hurricane formed in the Atlantic and traveled into the Gulf. The warning flags on the beach flew a sobering red all week, while the wind howled and the sky never beamed brighter than the dull gray of the clouds. There was no fun in the sun.
Melissa tried to entice us with outlet malls and museums, but I passed when I could. I used that time to do research on Greek Mythology and touch base with Chloe and Don.
And I talked to Don every day. His voice pulled me out of the despair that was the vacation of my nightmares—not literally, of course, though considering my dreams of late, that analogy wasn't too far off the mark.
I'd learned that the weather back home had been beautiful, so that just added to my funk. If Chrys's mom really could control the weather, then I could see why she was making my trip miserable and the weather back home beautiful. If the dreary summer weather returned with my arrival, then I'd definitely say this was her doing.
I did as much research as I could, but there was too much information. Not really knowing where to start, I focused on specific gods. Some of them I'd heard about, like Aphrodite, Hercules, and Zeus, and others I hadn't, like Artemis and Hermes, though I had heard of Holy Grail of handbags, the Hermes Birken. Chloe owned three. But I digressed.
From what I'd read, creating offspring from the earth and swallowing babies that later lived seemed to be commonplace. The typical concept of mating to produce bambinos didn't really seem to apply. The gods created offspring with anyone and anything. Then I wondered, since mating wasn't necessary, if my parents were even really a couple. Maybe that was why Melissa always talked about my mom, never my dad. Maybe the parents chose who would be the true parent. When an offspring was produced with an inanimate object, the decision would be fairly obvious, I mused. No tree could raise a child.
Ugh! What if one of my parents was not a person? That would be so weird.
Maybe that was why Melissa never mentioned my father. I could hear her now, Season, this is your dad, the white oak tree; we planted him here to be close to you. He gave you life, now try not to hit him with the lawnmower. Super weird!
As I kept reading, the one thing that stood out more than any other was that this was all mythology. Myths. So how would I know what to believe?
By Friday, I'd found my first real clue to me being linked to this craziness. On a website about Zeus, it was stated that he was born in Crete. My last name was Crete. Chrys's words passed through my head, there are no coincidences. And I knew that this was not one. I didn't know if my lineage linked to Zeus, but it definitely needed further investigating.
Laurel and I had convinced Melissa we should checkout and leave right after breakfast on Saturday. And as soon as we got home and my bag was unpacked, I took a shower and got ready for my date with Don. I'd planned on wearing jeans and a spaghetti-strap top, so I could show off my newly tanned arms, but that obviously didn't happen. It was still a cute top, so I didn't deviate from the original wardrobe plan.
The knock on the door sent my heart fluttering. I ran down the stairs and practically yanked the door off the hinges. Five days without seeing Don was five days too many! I couldn't wait to put my eyes on his gorgeous face.
He was standing with his weight on one leg, staring down at a bouquet of fresh roses. About two seconds after I opened the door, he glanced up and met my gaze. I knew I was beaming with joy all the way to my toes, and his returning smile displayed the same level of enthusiasm.
"You look so beautiful," he said through his smiling lips. "You look great, too." I contained my excitement.
"I missed you so much." He stepped up to the threshold, handing me the flowers. "These are for you. I figured the ones I gave you last week are probably past their usefulness."
The bouquet of roses was an explosion of color, containing much more than a dozen. Every color of rose I could imagine was represented, and the aroma was simply heavenly.
I thanked him as I took them to the kitchen. He followed right behind me, walking over to the old roses, which had dried and scattered their petals around the vases. He reached for one of the container.
"What are you doing?" I protested as he pulled the roses out. "I'm getting rid of these."
"No. I want to keep them."
"Season, I plan on giving you flowers all the time. There's no need to keep the dead ones." He chuckled.
"You don't have to give me flowers every time you take me out." I gently took the dead flowers from him.
"I didn't say I'd give them to you every time we go out." He smirked. "Still, these were the first ones you gave me. I want to keep them."
"Okay, I won't complain about these dead flowers, but I don't want to see your room covered with dead flowers by the end of summer. Surrounding yourself with all that death isn't healthy." He chuckled.
I rolled my eyes and laughed as I put the fresh flowers in a new vase, then picked up the two containers of old roses. I took them upstairs for safe keeping before we left for our date.
It was very relaxing. We ate pizza, talked, and laughed. When we finished eating, we stayed a little while longer because the restaurant provided a nice place for us to be alone. We spoke freely about anything that came to our minds. Anything except what Chrys had told me about at work the day before I left. I kept that little conversation to myself.
"My mom will be back on Monday. I'd like to bring you over to meet her, you know, formally."
"Okay," I mumbled.
"Don't worry. You've already met her, and she's still really nice. Besides, I've already told her all about you." He was fighting a smile.
"What did you say?"
"Well, I told her things like how funny and kind you are and how you've grown into a beautiful woman, though I've always thought you were a beautiful person." He paused. "And I told her how I feel about you."
"How do you feel about me?"
He reached over and played with a strand of my hair.
"Since we're taking things slowly, I think we should save this conversation for a later time."
My heart was pounding, and I blushed. "I can wait."
Don took me home after dinner and walked me to the door while making plans for him to stop by tomorrow after I got off work. The glow of the porch light illuminated him, making him seem ethereal. When he wrapp
ed one arm around me and grazed my cheek with the other, I held my breath, waiting. He leaned down and kissed my exposed shoulder, then my neck, before placing his lips at my ear.
"I hope you have a wonderful night's sleep. Dream beautiful dreams. I know I will because I'll be dreaming about you."
He slid his lips down my cheek and kissed me softly at my jaw before turning away. He winked at me as he got in his car, and I melted.
But my dreams that night were not sweet. Most of the elements were the same.
When I found the girl, she was irritated.
"What took you so long?" she asked with narrowed eyes.
"I didn't know what I was looking for," I said, talking about the shelter we were
in.
"It's been right in front of you the whole time." She reached out with her index
finger extended and touched the middle of my forehead.
For an instant, I knew the answers to everything like I did the last time she touched my forehead. I gasped in my dream and then woke up with an actual gasp, sitting straight up in my bed, clutching my blanket at my chest. But I couldn't remember the revelation at the end of my dream.
As I sat in contemplation, I considered the fact that if my mom was communicating with me through my dreams, then maybe this girl could give me the answers. I would have to subconsciously make myself ask her questions the next time I dreamed about her.
Thunder crashed outside, and I looked out the window to see dark clouds hovering in the sky. The yard was flooded, so it must've rained all night. I guessed my theory about Chrys's mom manipulating the weather was true. She must have known I returned yesterday since I was on the schedule to work today. After all, there were no coincidences.
