The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3
Page 94
I heaved a sigh, but Brande coaxed a laugh out of me with a few playful kisses and a word of encouragement whispered into my ear. He got out and came over to open my door, lending me his hand to step out. I tightened my grip on his hand as we walked over to the portico of my parents’ two-story federal style house. The brick exterior stood in contrast to the bright white doorway in the center, and instead of the usual decorative engravings above the door, I saw subtly placed protection symbols.
Brande rang the doorbell and Rachel answered. Her beautiful face broke into a smile when she saw us, and our gazes both went to her round protruding belly. She nearly squealed when she saw us, and she adjusted her dark blue dress before pulling me into a hug.
“Oh, Isabella! I’m so happy you’re here.”
I gave her a tight squeeze. “You look wonderful,” I said. “How’s the baby?”
She patted her belly. “Kicking up a storm. Why don’t you both come in for a drink.” She gave Brande a hug and a peck on the cheek before leading us inside. We made a sharp right turn from the hallway into the dining room, and sat together at the table. Rachel sat across from us, and her smile faded.
“It’s difficult, isn’t it? Getting adjusted to all of this?” She made a flourishing movement with her hand.
I nodded. “How are you doing?”
My mom came in with glasses of lemonade for us. She didn’t smile, but her expression told me that she was glad to see me. She came over and gave me a kiss on the top of my head. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Mom...” I instinctively wrapped my arms around her waist and squeezed. I finally understood what she had been trying to tell me all these years, and I appreciated both her and her message.
This time, she did smile. “How was Washington?”
I sighed. “It can wait. I want to know how you’re doing.”
“Thanks,” Rachel told my mom as she grabbed a glass from her. She ran a hand through her loose, wavy blonde hair. “We woke up in the house. At first we were afraid we were under some type of hallucination or mind control device.”
“But it became apparent that this was reality,” my mother chimed in. “It just wasn’t ours.”
“Do you have many memories of this new life?” Brande asked.
Rachel nodded. “I think they’re coming back in more quickly as time passes.”
My brother finally came in and sat next to Rachel. He smiled at us. “I wanted to go and visit some of the local schools, maybe stop by the grocery store, but Rachel won’t have any of it.”
My mother faced us before heading into the kitchen. “Are we ready to eat?”
“Yes, please,” I answered.
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t think I’m ready for all that. What if we’re talking to someone and slip up and say the wrong thing? Something that may have been true from our time but not for this one?”
My brother chuckled. “She’s complaining now, but you should’ve seen her when she saw her name on a byline for McCall’s.” He leaned over and grabbed the magazine, tossing it over to me.
I opened it and found a short story belonging to her. I grinned. “Congratulations, Rachel.” I decided not to tell her that in our alternate world I had sent Andrew Lainey and Luke Jameson after the magazine editor who had rejected her stories.
Rachel blushed. “Thanks.”
Johnnie threw his arm around Rachel. “So where’s Dad? I thought maybe he’d come up with you.”
I felt an immediate ball of anger drag down my delighted mood, but I tucked it away. “He...had some things to take care of. He said he’d be here first thing tomorrow morning.”
“What about your memories, Isabella?” Rachel asked. “Do you have many from this new life?”
I shook my head. “It’s coming back a lot more slowly for me. It’s probably because I was at the center of it all. Listen...I’m sorry about what happened. I really tried to make things right.”
“No, don’t say that.” Rachel frowned. “We’re together, aren’t we?”
My brother waved his hand. “Could you imagine if I had to do what you did? We’d all be doomed.”
Brande wrapped his arm around me. “When we were in the Den and you had left, there was an earthquake, darkness, and we all thought it was the end for us. If you didn’t do what you did, we probably wouldn’t even have this world, or any world.”
Johnnie chimed in. “He’s right, so stop worrying. We’ll all adjust, and when your new memories grow on you, you’ll find it easier to cope with.”
I nodded, though I felt doubt in my heart. This would’ve been easier to accept if I were able to keep my father the way I had last seen him. “Do any of you...feel like something’s missing?”
“We’re all right, Izzy,” my brother said. “Whether we ended up back there or here, life wasn’t going to be perfect anyway. It was never going to be the same.”
I sighed. “I just want you all to be happy.”
“We are,” Brande said, planting a kiss on my cheek. “But we won’t be if you’re not.”
“I know. I’ll just have to take this a day at a time.”
“And do you know what the best part is?” Brande whispered in my ear.
“What?”
“You’ll never be alone.”
That made me smile. I was so afraid of being alone, of being exposed and torn down, that I neglected the fact that I had people who loved me and wouldn’t hesitate to travel on this journey with me. They may not have understood everything I’ve endured, but they were willing to try. My mother wanted to wrap her arms around me and take care of me, and Johnnie and Rachel wanted to be my confidants and friends. Every day, Brande showed me that he was willing to give his all--so what exactly did I have to be afraid of?
My issues with my father were a sore spot, but I’d find a way to reach him. The next assignment at work could wait, and even trying to track down the others from our group could wait. In some ways, my father and me were alike. We both liked to have control of the outcome of a situation and disliked loss. However, seeing how he had turned out, it taught me that there were things far more important than getting everything I thought I wanted, or getting it in the manner I wanted. I always prided myself on living my life the way I chose, and now I wanted to live it without regret.
“No regrets,” I whispered back to Brande.
My mother returned with a tray of food. Her eyes sparkled when she caught me smiling. “Did you remember to bring dessert?”
I frowned. “Sorry, I forgot.”
Johnnie’s eyes widened. “You were going to let Izzy bring dessert? Mom...”
I wagged a finger at Johnnie and was about to tell him off, but the doorbell rang and I clamped my mouth shut. I got up and went to answer the front door, pulling it open and letting out a startled breath at seeing my father. He was out of uniform and wore a dark gray suit, a hat, and a black tie. He held a box in his hands and tentatively offered it to me.
“It’s apple pie. Your mother’s favorite.” He folded his hands behind his back and gazed at me, perhaps trying to project my reaction.
I cracked the box open and inhaled the scent of glazed apples, sugar, and cinnamon. “This smells delicious, but I thought you had...responsibilities.”
“Isabella, I...” He worked his mouth, but his voice failed him. He looked uncertain.
For the first time ever, my father was at a loss for words. It was shocking and refreshing at the same time. I didn’t need a projection or rundown of logic--I was just happy to see him, and I wanted him to feel the same. I gave him a warm smile and held out my free hand. At first, he looked startled, then after gazing into my eyes, he finally seemed to let go of whatever was holding him back. He grinned and placed his hand in mine.
I gave his hand a squeeze, assuring him with that small gesture that I would never let him go. “I’ve missed you. Welcome home.”
About the Author
Alesha Escobar writes fantasy to support her chocolate habit. She enj
oys books, films, and crafting projects that allow her to work with her hands. She lives in California with her husband and children.
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