The Reason

by Marley Gibson

  "To say the least," Jason snaps.

  I twist around to face him. "What's eating you?"

  His handsome face falls. "How can I protect you, Kendall, when you go and do something so asinine?"

  "I've told you I don't need protection, Jason. You have enough to worry about with your sister and mom and all that stuff."

  "Kendall, I—"

  I stop him with my hand. "There is a very bitter spirit in this house that is causing the occupants suffering. Shelby-Nichole is afraid to acknowledge what she's seen and heard. Donn has intense back and shoulder pain from this Biddison woman. I can't just walk away. We've got to do a lot of research and find out who she is, and I've got to get her to cross into the light."

  She doesn't want to go...

  Emily appears across the room.

  "What do you mean, she doesn't want to go?"

  Loreen and Jason look around, both realizing at the same moment that I'm speaking to my spirit guide.

  "You're treading on dangerous ground."

  "How so, Emily?"

  "What's she saying?" Jason asks.

  "Emily wants me to stay away from this spirit."

  He sits next to me and takes my hand. "Then listen to her."

  I put my hand on my chest. "I just, like, became one with this spirit. I let her use me to speak to you guys. I can't simply abandon this investigation."

  "What about your vision?" Jason asks, his eyes shining with apprehension.

  I bite my lower lip slightly. "It's only that, Jason. You and Emily are so overprotective of me. It's like I can't go to the bathroom without one of you thinking my vision is going to come true. I'm already scared of my own shadow. What more do you want me to do? Lock myself away in my house, like what was apparently done to Sherry Biddison?"

  "Kendall..." Jason inhales deeply, his chest rising and then falling in a most dramatic manner. "I've dreamed about you too."

  "Awww ... how sweet," I say with a smile.

  He blushes slightly. "Not like that. Bad dreams."

  "Of something horrible happening to me?"

  There's an eight-months-pregnant pause. Then he breathes, "Yeah."

  I smile as best as I can, considering my pulse is jetting away under my skin. "You've been watching too many late-night movies on On Demand."

  His blue eyes darken. "I'm serious, Kendall. I can't shake this. We're connected, you and me. I love you and I want to protect you at all costs."

  "So now we're sharing dreams?"

  He shrugs. "Seems like it."

  Geez Louise! Does that mean he's also seen the images of the guy with the gray hair? God, Jason's going to think I'm cheating on him in my dreams.

  Donn returns and hands me a large glass of ice water. I reach for it and begin gulping it down to quench the fire inside me. I don't know if it's residual energy from my connection with Sherry Biddison or the fear that something looms in my future that could severely alter my life.

  Jason sits back on the couch and runs his hands through his hair. Loreen hitches her hip onto the arm of the sofa and gazes down at me. "You're full of anxiety."

  "Damn right I am," I say, like it's the understatement of the year.

  Loreen's voice is as soothing as a warm bubble bath. "Have faith, Kendall. God has a path for you. Follow your life purpose."

  "Even if it means putting myself in harm's way?"

  "We can't live every moment in fear."

  "Yeah, we can," Jason points out.

  Loreen stretches out her hand. "We're all in this together. You, me, your team, Donn, and Shelby-Nichole. We'll get to the bottom of this. There's research to be done on Sherry Biddison so we'll know how to handle her the next time. We'll keep you safe, help this spirit, and make sure this house is clean. It's what we're meant to do."

  I really hope she's right.

  Chapter Eleven

  CELIA BOUNDS TOWARD ME in the hallway at school Monday morning, waving some sort of printout in my face. "You'll never believe what I've got."

  "Info on Sherry Biddison?" I've been thinking about the spirit nonstop since our investigation on Saturday.

  Stopping in her tracks, Celia frowns. "No. I mean, sort of, but no. I have something on Emily."

  Jesus in the garden! With all my thoughts of Sherry, I'd forgotten that my spirit guide is Emily Faulkner with a Wisconsin license plate. "Whatcha got?"

  "Would you believe there are actually four missing persons named Emily Faulkner? Paul found files from Illinois, Kentucky, Indiana, and Ohio."

  "That many?"

  She bobs her head in excitement. "See, the thing is, even though we know the plate you saw in your vision was registered to Emily Faulkner, records in Wisconsin couldn't locate the actual car. I bet what happened was that since the car caught fire, all traces of it were destroyed, to the point that it was demolished or recycled or what have you."

  "Like the plate melted in the wreck?"

  "Yeah, something like that."

  "So even though the car was registered to Emily Faulkner, there's no proof of what I saw happen to the car?" I ask, trying to grasp this info.

  "Right. See here." Celia shows me the report her cousin faxed to her. "He's also cross-referencing the hospitals in these four states to see if there were any Jane Does that showed up in any of the ERs pregnant or with a deceased baby."

  I rub my temples. Right—Emily's baby. What in the world happened to the baby? I wish my psychic abilities could help me figure this out. "Isn't that a lot of searching?"

  Celia dismissed the thought. "That's what computers are for. They do all the work on the data." She lays a hand on my arm. "We're going to find out who she is and where she came from, Kendall."

  I smile at my friend. "I appreciate all you're doing, Celia. It is important for me to know Emily's backstory and why she's attached to me. However, I'm going to focus on Sherry Biddison while we're waiting for the research from your cousin. There's something desperate about her situation, the way she's wreaking havoc on Donn and Shelby-Nichole. Besides, I can't get Sherry out of my mind. Especially since she's actually hurting Mayor Shy. I had seen Sherry through the windows there even before I knew anything about her. She's out for vengeance."

  Celia's eyes drop to her feet and she kicks her sneakered feet against my locker. Her black hair falls in her face, and I can see something is bothering her. It's damn near written in Sharpie across her forehead.

  "What?"

  "Nothing."

  "Celia..."

  "It's okay, Kendall. Really."

  I focus my attention on Celia, reaching out to her psychically. I break through the mental barriers my friend has put up to see deep into her thoughts. I sigh when I catch a glimpse of what's troubling her. "Oh, Celia. You're upset because throughout all of our investigations and ghost hunting, you haven't had a real paranormal experience. That's not true at all. What about the EVPs we've captured? And the ectoplasm photographs? And my channeling the other night?"

  Her eyes connect with mine. "That's all shit that's happened to you. I mean, sure, we get EVPs and some cool photos. But I've never seen anything. I can't see Emily. I can't hear who you talk to, and I'm not a vessel for channeling or anything. It's frustrating as hell."

  Bless her heart. I wish I could manifest an apparition for her. "You'll see something when the time is right, Celia."

  "When?"

  "When you least expect it."

  She waves me off with the flick of her wrist. "Are you tell ing me to be patient? 'Cause I ain't patient," she says snarkily. "I'm anything but patient."

  With a laugh, I say, "Look, I'll promise you something, Celia. If I die before you, I will totally come back and show myself to you."

  "Seriously?"

  "Yeah ... like when I'm ninety-five and you're barely getting around in your walker in the old folks home." I crack myself up at the thought of Celia and me being blue-haired little old ladies.

  This makes her smile. "You'd better do it, Moorehead."
/>   I hope it's a loooooooooong time before I have to make good on this promise.

  Monday after school, Mom walks into the kitchen, her face unusually pale. Oh God, she's not expecting, is she? No ... no, this isn't about my family. It's about the Tillsons.

  Taylor glances up from the French homework she's got scattered over the table. "What is it, Miss Sarah?"

  A large man steps into the room behind Mom and slowly removes his aviator sunglasses. Taylor's breath catches when she sees him. Although they're not the clear blue eyes I'm used to gazing into, I know for a fact that this is Jason and Taylor's father. His hair is clipped close to his head. His skin is remarkably tan considering he lives in the Last Frontier. He's wearing worn jeans and a brown leather jacket that's seen better days.

  "Hey, baby girl," he says to Taylor.

  She sits up straight and moves her long hair off her shoulders. "Daddy," she says with no emotion in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

  Mr. Tillson moves farther into the room and spreads his arms open for his daughter. Taylor doesn't react. Instead, she begins stacking up her French book and notebook. He slices his eyes over to my mother, who frowns at the icy interaction.

  "I'm here for you and Jason, sweetie," he says.

  "About time," Taylor mutters so low that only I can hear her. Taylor lifts her eyes briefly. "I see."

  Great googly-moogly. The tension is a thickening agent you could make gravy out of. Needing to help out, I push to my feet and extend my right hand to the man who fathered my boyfriend. "Hey, Mr. Tillson. I'm Kendall."

  He politely takes my hand in his larger one and pumps up and down. "Pleasure, Kendall. I've heard a lot of good things about you from Jason."

  Slipping into the role of Southern hostess, Mom begins to fuss over her guests. "Here, Russ." She motions to the armchair in the corner. "Please have a seat. What can I get you? Coffee? A soda pop, maybe? Or some sweet tea?"

  He smiles weakly—not at Mom but over his disappointment in his daughter—and says, "Tea would be great, Sarah. Thanks." Russ Tillson lowers his six-foot frame into the chair and leans forward, his hands on his knees. "So, no hug for your old man, Taylor?"

  She wets her lips quickly and shrugs her shoulders. "I think I've grown out of that, Daddy."

  Mom nearly shoves the glass of iced tea at Mr. Tillson. "Here you go. Taylor? Anything for you, dear?"

  "No, ma'am, merci."

  The front doorbell sounds out. Mom turns to get it. A moment later, Russ Tillson's younger doppelgänger enters the room. Unlike his sister, Jason goes to hug his father, who stands when his son enters the room. It's quick contact. Sort of like football players who do the obligatory team chest bump and stuff when they score. Taylor knits her brows together and sighs.

  "Good to see you, son," Mr. Tillson says. He ruffles Jason's shaggy blond mess. "You need a haircut."

  Jason sloughs off the comment. "Whatever. When did you get in?"

  "Really late last night. I didn't want to bother you kids, knowing you had school today. So I went to the hospital and stayed with your mom."

  "How is she?" I ask, knowing Taylor wanted to inquire about Rachel Tillson's status today.

  "Maybe you'd like to go into the living room," Mom suggests. "So you can have some privacy with your children."

  Taylor balks, though. "It doesn't matter, Miss Sarah. We can stay right here. Besides, Kendall's psychic, so either she'll figure it out or Jason will share the information with her. We might as well all stay right here."

  There's so much pain in her beautiful face. The resentment toward her father emanates from her like heat from the pavement on a hot summer day. I close my eyes momentarily and take a deep breath. I send some Reiki energy to her and add a quick prayer asking God to open her ears and heart to her father, who has traveled so far to be with her, despite the problems he and his wife are going through. Whether she knows it or not, Taylor needs her dad.

  "Very well, then," Mr. Tillson says. He drains the iced tea and returns the glass to the kitchen counter. "Jason, sit, son."

  Jason obeys, pulling me to his side and taking my hand. I squeeze his fingers to let him know I'm here for him—anything he needs.

  With an awkward throat clear, Mr. Tillson says, "Kids, your mom has taken a turn for the worse."

  Taylor's eyes immediately become glassy with fresh tears. "Wh-wh-what's wrong now? I saw her last night and she was getting better. We watched CNN together."

  Mom crosses the room and places her hand on Taylor's trembling shoulder for support. My friend reaches out for comfort.

  Mr. Tillson continues. "Her vitals are good and her blood pressure has leveled out. However, she's still slipping into unconsciousness for extended periods of time and that has the doctors quite concerned. It seems that the combination of pills she took was quite powerful, and the doctors can't be sure at this point of the extent of her neurological damage. She'll need a lot more tests and more than likely some serious rehabilitation, almost as if she's a stroke victim."

  "Oh, Mom..." Taylor no longer holds back her sobs. My mom hands her a checkered napkin from the basket on the lazy Susan to help out.

  A tremor travels through Jason, vibrating my hand. "What does that mean?"

  "It means that we're going to have to find a place to move her."

  "Move her? Where?"Taylor asks.

  Mr. Tillson sighs hard. "An institution, possibly."

  Taylor bolts up. "You can't have my mama institutionalized! I won't let you!"

  "Taylor, would you just calm down and—"

  "No, Dad! I won't." Her eyes darken and dilate as her unusual fury boils over. She grabs her homework and crams it into her backpack. "You haven't been here. You don't know. You left us. And now you want to take her away from us?"

  "Sweetie, I don't want to take her away—"

  "Taylor, quit acting like a baby," Jason says.

  "Stop telling me what to do. I have yearbook stuff to work on. I'll be at school." She storms out the door.

  "Let her go," their father says. "She needs time."

  Jason rubs his head. "Whatever. Drama queen."

  I elbow him hard. "She's dealing with this the only way she knows how. Be nice."

  His eyes soften and he nods. "Sorry."

  Russ Tillson addresses my mom. "Sarah, if you and David don't mind looking after Taylor for a few more days, I would appreciate it. I need to talk to the doctors and check with our insurance to see what arrangements can be made to make Rachel comfortable for as long as necessary."

  "Of course, Russ," Mom states. "We consider Taylor family. Anything you need." She turns to my boyfriend. "You too, Jason."

  "Thanks, Miss Sarah," he says politely.

  Taylor needs me now more than ever, so I reach for my purse and excuse myself. "I should go see what I can do to help with the yearbook too."

  Jason is well aware that I'm following after Taylor. He kisses me on the head to thank me.

  "Stay and talk to your dad," I whisper.

  "I will."

  "I'll take care of Tay."

  I slip out to my car and head in the direction of RHS. As much as Taylor's been here for me through my awakening and dealings with Courtney Langdon last semester when she was jealous of my psychic abilities, I'm here for her now.

  It's not every day that a girl stands to lose her mother ... forever.

  Two days later, everything changes.

  I'm at Loreen's store after a successful afternoon going around the Radisson Square stores hawking ads for the Rambler with Shelby-Nichole—scored seven ads, thankyou-verymuch!—when a sallow-faced Taylor tromps in with news that rocks my world.

  And not in a good way.

  "I'm moving to freaking Alaska."

  I hear the words leave her mouth, but I don't believe what she's saying.

  "You're ... what?" Shelby-Nichole says, voicing my own surprise. "We can't lose you on yearbook!"

  I eyeball her. "Not the time..."

  Shelby
-Nichole winces and steps aside.

  Taylor collapses to the couch and puts her head in her hands. I'm unsure exactly how to spin this. She might as well tell me that she's moving to Mongolia, or the moon.

  "And Jason too?"

  Her nod is like a bullet to my chest.

  She lifts her eyes and sadness outlines her pretty face. "Dad talked to my Aunt Pamela, Mom's sister. They're moving my mom into a home north of Atlanta to monitor her. Dad talked to his lawyer and is filing an injunction for temporary custody of Jason and me while Mom is incapacitated."

  "Does Jason know this?" I ask, my mouth arid as the Mojave Desert.

  "Oh, yeah. He's heartbroken," she says. "He disappeared. No idea where he is."

  I touch my fingers to the hematite bracelet Jason gave me. The one that is exactly like the one I gave him. The stones are smooth, yet cold to my touch. They sing a vibration to my soul, and for some unknown reason, I know where my guy is.

  I reach for my car keys. "I'll find him."

  Tears pour from Taylor's eyes, and Shelby-Nichole moves to comfort her. "I'm just a kid. I shouldn't have to deal with this. It's not fair. To leave school, my friends, the ghost hunting, the yearbook ... and Ryan." She sniffs hard and runs her fist underneath her nose.

  "We'll dedicate the Rambler to you, Taylor," Shelby-Nichole says, trying to help.

  Taylor smiles, then purses her lips into a pout. "I'm so not trying to be a tart about this, but this is all Mom's fault! Why did she have to do what she did? It was so selfish. And it's ruining everything for Jason and me." She sniffles again. "I had plans. A life course. A curriculum I was following for my future. What am I going to do in Alaska? Catch salmon? Chip ice? Duke will never admit me now."

  Shelby-Nichole holds her tighter. "Oh, sweetie. Don't think like that."

  I have no idea how to make this better for anyone. Still, I say, "Your mom obviously had a lot of issues that she needed to sort out. Therapy isn't always enough for some people. But her weakness in attempting to take her own life doesn't reflect on you, Taylor. And it doesn't have to alter your life plan, either. You're smart and talented and beautiful, and no matter where you end up, your future is bright." Hello, when did Dr. Phil walk in the room? Maybe I'm channeling him now. Oy vey!