I was in love with a semi-immortal, mutant freak. Around here, the biggest problem most couples faced was whether they should vote republican or democratic or if they should raise their kids Catholic or Protestant. I wondered how we would explain this to our kids. I supposed we could always offer them their choice of blood or milk with their meals.
Once I knew my mom had cleared the room and was firmly planted in front of the television watching her favorite soap opera, I reached for the phone beside my bed. There was just one more thing nagging at my conscience, and I needed an answer. I hit speed dial and waited for the warmth of his familiar voice on the other end of the line. When he answered, I didn’t waste any time with formal greetings. If he was truly intuitive, I wouldn’t have much time to get out the words before he caught on to the reason for my call. I blurted out what was on my mind.
“Chaseyn, I just need to know one more thing,” I said hesitantly.
“Anything.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
Silence. I had my answer.
Chapter 23 - Catastrophe
For the most part, life went back to normal the next day—normal as in how it had been before Chaseyn and I had taken a break from each other. We were once again inseparable. I still had plenty of unanswered questions—and I was a tiny bit terrified of what he was—but I tried to overlook those details. At least, for a while. Chaseyn had been pretty forthcoming in the sanctuary of my bedroom, and I decided to cut him some slack. We never spoke of the secrets that were revealed that day. Life continued this way for a long time. Until, one day, my life changed course.
“Lia, you’re grandma’s had an accident,” my mom said. She sounded serious, but she seemed calm. If something truly bad had happened, she would have been a mess, so I waited quietly for her to finish. “She slipped on some ice going up the stairs to her house, and she broke her hip.”
“That’s terrible, mom. Is she going to be okay?”
“She’ll be fine, but she could use some help getting around,” she continued. “That’s what I really wanted to talk to you about.”
I sensed I wasn’t going to like what was coming next.
“Well,” she said hesitantly. “Next week is spring break, and I thought it would be great if you could go stay with grandma for the week. She could really use your help.”
It was worst than I had thought. In my head, the conversation took a totally different direction. I was sure my mom was going to say that she and Kevin would be venturing to Amarillo to cater to my grandma’s every whim. I most definitely wasn’t expecting this turn.
“Mom,” I said angrily. “It’s senior year, and there are at least a million activities planned for next week. Not to mention I have mid-terms to study for.”
“That’s perfect then, honey. You won’t be distracted from your studies with all of those frivolous activities if you’re staying at grandma’s. You want that scholarship, don’t you? Your flight leaves Friday after your shift at the bakery.”
“Seriously? I don’t even get a chance to hang out with my friends once. We had plans,” I hollered, storming out of the room frantically. I was furious. “What about Chaseyn? And Addie?”
It was Wednesday, and I decided to make every minute count. Before I could even pick up the phone to call him, Chaseyn was on the doorstep ringing the bell. From my bedroom, I had seen his car pull up. I was starting to buy into the whole sixth sense notion, but I kept that to myself, for now. I hoped his presence would have a calming effect on both me and my mom.
“Chaseyn, sweetheart, come in,” my mom said in a sugary voice as she pulled open the door. “Lia, you have a visitor.”
I flew down the stairs two at a time, throwing my arms around him to show my sincere affection. Chaseyn set one foot back to steady himself against the weight of my body lunging toward him. Though his broad frame could easily support my slight size, I had taken him off guard with my unpredictable display of emotion.
“Something’s up,” he said with an inflection that suggested he was asking a question rather than making a statement.
“Lia is unhappy about a trip she has to take over the break,” my mom said before I could force out the words. I was tucked tightly into the folds of Chaseyn’s strong arms.
Unhappy may have been the ultimate understatement. Addie had always been the one with a flair for the melodramatic, but that afternoon, I could have given Greta Garbo a run for her money with my performance. If memory serves, I actually draped the back of my hand daintily across my forehead before collapsing onto to the couch.
“I hate this. We won’t get to spend any time together,” I sobbed, feeling only slightly guilty that I was acting so selfishly. I knew my grandma needed someone—me—but I was terribly resentful of her in that moment.
Chaseyn lifted my feet, placing them gently down in his lap, as he took a seat next to me on the couch. My mom left the room to give us a few minutes alone together to discuss the situation.
“It sounds like your grandma really needs you right now, Cordelia. You won’t have many moments like this is your life. Trust me. Cherish the time you’ll have alone with her,” Chaseyn said, always the voice of reason.
“But, what if…”
“What if she asks about me,” he finished my thought. Again, was this intuition, or was it just obvious? “Tell her I’ve been busy draining blood from unsuspecting small-town do-gooders. And, local authorities are frantically trying to piece together evidence to determine the source of a series of bizarre deaths in the community.”
“Seriously, Chaseyn. This isn’t funny.”
This was the first time we had broached the subject since the day I learned the truth about him. Chaseyn had been very accommodating that one day, but I knew that if I pressed for more, he would close down. Shut me out. That was the last thing I wanted, so I let it be. True, the knowledge of what Chaseyn really was lingered constantly in the back of my mind. Part of me was always just a tiny bit on edge when we were alone together—despite the fact that I knew he would never intentionally hurt me. Today, though, I was forced to bring up this forbidden subject once again.
“Who’s laughing,” he responded, deadpan. “Okay. Tell her I would never hurt you. That I prefer to maintain a human façade, so she doesn’t need to worry about me drinking your blood.”
“Oh, of course. That’s a great plan,” I said, sarcasm dripping from every word. I proceeded to act out just how I pictured the conversation between me and my grandma. “So, it turns out Chaseyn is Alexei’s son, but he swears he only wants to keep me safe. Don’t worry, grandma. He’s not a real vampire; he really likes cupcakes. After all, how many vampires do you know that have a hankering for butter cream frosting and candy sprinkles?”
Chaseyn laughed and shook his head.
“You’re right. She’ll never buy into that,” he said seriously, looking pensive. After a few seconds, he offered a new solution. “You should go with pie. Everybody likes pie.”
“Chaseyn,” I whined. Irritated by his childish response, I slapped his arm away from its resting place atop my outstretched legs. He didn’t budge. I should have known my feeble attempt would be no match against his supernatural strength.
“Okay. Okay,” he said, finally ready to provide a viable response. “Try this. Tell her the truth.”
The next two days were a blur of activity. After school on Thursday, Addie helped me pack. Seeing as though the entire break would be devoted to catching up on my studies and nursing my ailing—sort of—grandma back to health, I would require little more than sweatpants and pajamas. Still, Addie insisted I take at least one dress and a blouse, just in case. In case of what, I wasn’t sure, but it was easier to comply than to argue with her. Before I could stop her, Addie had also packed a full manicure set, which she had bought new upon hearing of my unplanned travels, and a face palette from Bobbi Brown’s latest collection.
“Addie, what are you doing? I’m trying to keep it down to one carr
y-on bag.”
“You never know what unexpected events may come up. You have to be prepared for anything,” she said, shrugging as she tossed a flat iron and black kitten heels into the bag. “All you have in here are sneakers and T-shirts. It just won’t do.”
Friday came and went too quickly. I had barely had time to absorb the fact that I was leaving town when the pivotal moment arrived. My mom declined to let Chaseyn drive me to the airport. She was certain he would refuse to assist in any attempt to flee that I might have been planning, but she wanted to spend some time alone with me to be certain I understood what was expected of me in Amarillo. However, she allowed Chaseyn to pick me up after work so that we could have at least a few moments of privacy to say our final farewells, for the week, at least.
Chaseyn slipped his large fingers between mine as we drove in silence. The dark, star-flooded sky encircled us as Chaseyn drove at a snail’s pace along back alleys and side streets—clearly taking the longest route possible to stretch out the time we still had together. My mom would be wearing circles in the carpet as she paced the room awaiting my arrival. All I cared about were these final moments—untainted by imperfect words and sadness. In the quiet of the dusky moonlight, I chose to reflect on the past few months and all Chaseyn and I had endured. I sensed he was doing the same.
Finally, inevitably, we reached my front drive. Chaseyn gazed longingly at me before twisting his fingers from between my own. I sat still, wanting the moment to last, but he moved swiftly to my side of the vehicle. Opening my door, he signalled my exit. I shook my head—a negative response. He smiled and motioned again for me to move. Sticking out my bottom lip into a childlike pout, I shook my head again. Before I knew it, I was airborne, saddled in Chaseyn’s strong arms as he carried me up the path to the brightly lit porch. Gently, he placed me down on the swinging lounge chair, where we sat together again in silence. After what seemed like seconds but must have been minutes, the drapes opened slightly, just enough for me to see my mom motion at the invisible watch on her left wrist. I nodded knowingly but prolonged the moment. She held up two fingers, and I nodded again.
“You have to go,” Chaseyn said without looking in her direction. “Two-minute call.”
Through glassy eyes, thick with tears that I refused to let fall, I looked up at Chaseyn who appeared to be equally unhappy. Heavy lids veiled his almond-shaped eyes. In unison, we stood and walked to the door, out of my mom’s sightline. Chaseyn took me in his arms tenderly, and I began to whisper how I would miss being away from him.
“I’ll—”
“Shhh,” he said, pressing his finger lightly against my lips. “I know. Me, too.”
Of course he knew what I would say. He had a sixth sense. This time, I opted not to question his abilities and trust he had it right. By now, tears flowed freely down my face, freezing to my cheeks and dampening his thin sweater. Chaseyn was always cool to the touch, but he never suffered the effects of the cold. Holding me out half an arm’s length away, he wiped each new tear as it fell. A single tear slid down his alabaster cheek as he drew me back into his embrace and planted a firm kiss on my forehead. Without a sound, he tucked a small white envelope in my hand—just like the one he gave me at the bakery so long ago—and walked away, never looking back. I knew more tears had stained his flawless face, and he didn’t want me to see. As I watched him drive away, I could see his deep green eyes staring back in the rear-view mirror. He lifted the back of his hand to his cheek at the same time that my mom opened the door and pulled me inside.
“Grab your stuff, Lia. We’ve got to go,” she urged.
Try as I might to suck back the tears, they wouldn’t stop flowing. My shoulders heaved, sobs rolled like waves off my every breath. We had been on the road for nearly twenty minutes, but the image of Chaseyn driving away, tears in his eyes, remained as vivid as though I were still watching it happen live.
“Honey, you have to stop. You’re going to choke,” my mom said soothingly, using her right hand to pat my back in a calming manner. “Take a deep breath, sweetie. One at a time.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I willed my body to listen. I inhaled deeply, but my lungs rejected the intake of air, and I began coughing. Hard. Until, I nearly passed out. My mom pulled the car over and ran around to my side, bottle of water in hand. Sweat drenched my brow, and my face was red with a heat that surged beneath the skin.
“Lia, sweetie? Honey? Drink this,” she said, frantically pouring water into my gaping mouth. “This is silly, Lia. You’ll be back in a week. You’ll see him soon enough.”
Water dribbled down my chin, soaking through the front of my thin, white t-shirt. My arms flailed in an attempt to push my mom and the water bottle away.
“Go. I’ll miss the plane if you don’t start driving.”
I longed to miss the plane, but my conscience had started to get the best of me. It was true, my grandma needed my help, and it seemed a simple gesture. I loved my grandma. We had always been close, and under normal circumstances, I would have been eager to spend a week chumming around with her. But now, I feared being alone with her. She knew too much. Maybe, even more than I did.
The rest of the way, my mom regaled me with care instructions and appropriate etiquette for the duration of my visit. Externally, I had calmed considerably, enough so that I managed to hem and haw and nod at all the right parts of her speech. Forty-five minutes seemed like four hours, but we finally arrived at the airport with just enough time to rush me through the gates.
“Wait, Lia,” my mom said, tugging my arm. I stumbled back a few steps to where she was now standing totally still, a small black object resting in her palm.
“Mom, I have to go. They’re boarding in five, and I have to pass security.”
Quickly, I threw my arms around her awkwardly—I was upset about the trip but not so mad that I couldn’t spare a decent parting sentiment. I turned to walk away when she pushed the object into my palm.
“I know you’ve always wanted one,” she said proudly, nodding toward the cell phone in her hand. “I thought now would be as good a time as any. You can call Chaseyn and Addie any time you want while you’re away. I got you a long distance plan. And, if you can forgive me for this, you can call me, too.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely elated. While I had hoped that the wells of my eyes had dried up, I quickly learned they hadn’t. I blew her a kiss and dashed through the security doors, cell phone squeezed tightly between my fingers.
With seconds to spare, I scurried through security and to the gate just as the perky attendant announced the final boarding call. Once safely onboard the aircraft—belted in, baggage stowed—I began dialing the familiar number. Just one last call.
“Hey,” I said quietly at the first sound of the voice on the other end. “I love you.”
Seconds, maybe minutes passed before I finally received a response.
“Me, too,” my mom said, a hint of surprise noticeable in her tone. “Me, too, sweetheart.”
Over the intercom, the captain demanded that all passengers prepare for takeoff by powering down all electronic devices. I snapped shut the phone and closed my eyes.
As promised, a man was waiting for me at the airport, a small cardboard placard scrawled with my name held securely in his hands. Mr. Bethsby, I was told, had lived next door to my grandma for the past 35 years. His wife had died about four years ago, and now, he passed the time lending a hand doing odd jobs for other seniors in the neighborhood. He mowed my grandma’s lawn twice a week. At first, I wondered why he couldn’t just check in on my grandma a few times each day to be sure she had everything she needed and hadn’t collapsed to an unconscious state on her way to the bathroom.
Apparently, when I was a little girl, I would tag along behind Mr. Bethsby when he walked his labradoodle to the local speedy mart. We would sit on the bench outside the shop doors and chug chocolate milk—me and Mr. Bethsby, not the dog. Now, the grey-haired waif of a man stood before me, porcel
ain dentures beaming as I lugged my overstuffed—thanks to Addie—duffle in his general direction.
“Lia,” he said gleefully as I approached. “You haven’t changed one bit from that sassy little rugrat. Do you remember how you used to pluck crab apples from my orchard and feed them to Buster? You were such a little menace.”
He actually pinched my cheeks when he said the last part. The events surrounding my current circumstances just kept getting worse. It had already been the longest five minutes of my life; I could only imagine how long the week would feel.
“Let’s get cracking,” he chuckled, sweeping his fragile arm in front of him as he spoke. I didn’t even know what that meant, but I figured I should start moving since he was already at least ten paces ahead of me. “Coming? We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
Breathless Page 18
