My heart warmed. I hadn’t known he was going to come this morning. I stepped outside to meet him.
“Either of your parents still home?” Asher asked. He had a hand behind his back like he was hiding something.
“Yeah, Mom and Daniel—”
Looking serious, he pushed me inside, coming with, and closed the door behind him.
“Asher, I know you’re upset about—”
He stooped, bringing his face close enough that our noses touched.
Excitement at his sudden nearness swirled through me.
“Kiss me,” he whispered, smiling a little.
Tipping on my toes, I reached up and pulled him closer, ever so gently pressing my lips to his. Reaching my hands up to the back of his neck, I let as much positive source as I had sink back into him. He ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my head in the same gesture.
“You know—” Nathaniel’s voice broke through my reverie as he descended the stairs. I tried to snap back, but Asher held me even closer “—if you do that right in the entry, everyone can see you.” He continued past us into the hall.
Asher released me.
“Maybe give us some privacy?” I said to Nathaniel’s back, feeling the heat in my face. I rubbed a finger along my lip, and gave Asher a look.
He brought around a red rose. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
A rush of positive source swirled inside me. I was almost sure it made me glow, and I tentatively took the flower. “Thank you.”
“Take it with you. Don’t worry about putting it in water.” He grinned, pulling me into a bear hug. “I’ll see you after school.” He kissed my forehead, then walked toward the kitchen.
“Wait. Where are you headed?” I asked, confused. “The door is this way.”
“I’m teaching Nathaniel another magic trick before dropping him off at Benjamin’s so they can walk to school together.” He glanced over his shoulder.
“Not sure how I feel about you buddying up with my kid brother,” I said.
“You’ll like it.” He waved at me, before disappearing into the kitchen.
Smelling the rose as I stepped outside, I walked down the front path. A happy and content feeling consumed me. I wished Asher could cut class and come with us.
“Tara, wait a minute,” Mom called.
Puzzled, I turned around and waited as she hurried down the front steps with a thermal bottle in hand. “For Jack.” She smiled. “It’ll help with his cold.”
“Oh.” My eyebrows rose. How often had I benefited from one of Mom’s enhanced herbal remedies? I grinned back at her. “Thank you. He’ll love it.”
“Tell him,” she said. “About your source.”
I nodded. Anxiety twisted in my gut as I headed to the car. How would Jack respond? I slid into the passenger seat of Jack’s Mustang and placed the rose on the dash where I could prominently see it. As promised, Jack wore one of those germ masks.
“You don’t have to wear that around me.” I handed him the drink. “From my mom for your cold.”
His brows rose. “Thank you.” He pulled the mask down and took a sip. “What is in this? My throat feels better already.”
“Source.” I pressed my lips together.
“What?” He looked perplexed.
“I’ll tell you about it as we’re driving.”
“Okay...seatbelt?” he said.
“Of course.” I strapped myself in.
Asher stepped out on the porch, deck of cards in one hand, and waved as Jack backed the car out.
Lowering my window, I called, “See you later!”
“Get a picture of your Gran’s house for me in case we don’t make it out this weekend!”
“Sounds good.” I blew him a kiss, which cheered up the longing expression on his face.
“If you haven’t figured it out already, he’s a little clingy,” Jack said.
I looked at him quickly. I’d never describe Asher like that, but I could see what he meant. “What? You warn me of that now?” I decided to be overly dramatic and placed a hand on my chest. “After he’s already stolen my heart?”
Jack snorted. “Yeah, but you’re good for each other, so what does it matter?”
“Oh, so was he clingy with Emma?” I wasn’t sure why I brought up Emma. Except, maybe the jealous part of me wondered about Asher’s relationship with her.
“Him being clingy was what allowed her to treat him like a prized poodle. To hear her talk to him—” Jack cut off. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t go into that. She’s my cousin after all.”
Still wanting to avoid the conversation about source, I watched the scene pass by my window, thinking over how quickly my relationship with Asher had blossomed. I had a lot of fun with him. But Jack’s comment reminded me of how Emma had treated Asher on Sunday. A fragile soul lurked under all of Asher’s chivalry.
Maybe he needed a little return clinginess from me. I smiled a little to myself. “Can I see your phone?”
“Huh? Why?”
“I want to text Asher.”
“You need to get your own, sister.”
“Yes, I’ll talk to Daniel about it later.”
“Finally, she agrees with me.” He pulled his out from a pocket and handed it to me like it was contaminated. “Handle at your own risk. You don’t want whatever I have.”
“I don’t really get sick,” I said. “What’s your password?”
He allowed me into his phone. In his messaging history, Asher was the fifth down, under his mother, Geoffrey, Lydia, and Rosalind.
“It’s kind of fun peering into your social life,” I said.
He laughed. “Hey. Don’t read my messages!”
“I’m tempted to see what you and Asher say to each other.”
“It’s mostly religious stuff since Sunday. He’s been bombarding me with questions.”
“Oh.” My curiosity was roused, but I wanted to text Asher first. “Just a second—”
I typed my message for Asher. Miss you already. (This is Tara).
He sent me a heart emoji followed up with, Have fun seeing your grandmother.
Thank you. A warm feeling settled inside me. It was nice how supportive he was being about this. I was going to miss math, lunch, and lit with him today. I handed Jack his phone.
It took over an hour and a half to reach Gran’s house. Jack played some popular music that we sang along to before eventually he switched the radio station from country to classical, and immediately, I felt a surge of positive source. Still need to talk to him about source.
“Do you remember,” Jack said. “How you used to throw these raging tantrums, and Mom would play the piano, and you would calm right down.”
“I don’t remember that,” I lied.
Jack chuckled. “I do. Sometimes you were quite terrifying.”
This was the perfect segue into discussing source.
“Isabel has a crush on you, by the way,” I said instead.
“What?” Jack laughed. “No way. She has a crush on that sophomore, what’s his name?”
“I’ve no clue. She pretty much said she liked you.”
“Doubt that,” Jack said. “Plus, her parents wouldn’t let her date me.”
“Why?”
“First, they’re pretty particular. Second, well, she goes to my church. And I have a bad rep from dating Lydia.”
“The point is, she’s interested, so I was thinking we should all hang out sometime. If you’re interested, that is. Just hang out. No date attached.”
Jack tapped the steering wheel. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too hard. If you like her, be friends and have fun. We’re only juniors in high school, after all.”
“Says the girl who fell for a boy in less than a week.”
“It’s been two weeks,” I said.
Jack laughed. “You weren’t giving him the time of day two weeks ago.”
“Yeah, well, two weeks ago was when we met in the b
oy’s bathroom.”
“What?” Jack hooted. “This, you’ve got to tell me.”
“Can’t, we’re here.” I pointed as he drove past Gran’s little blue house.
“Wait, what?” He slowed to a stop. “Didn’t even see it, squished between the others.”
The home was a lot bigger inside than it looked from the outside. With a small rectangular window and a porch not much wider than the front door, the home was easy to miss. No one looking at it would suspect it had four bedrooms. “It’s longer than it is wide,” I said.
Jack parked on the street, and I took a deep breath.
It had been a number of years since I’d visited Aunt Martina. I could avoid her and my cousins, who I didn’t get along with, while Gran had been in a nursing home.
“Take the time you need. I’ll be napping.” Jack leaned back in his chair. He picked up the drink from Mom and drained what was left. “What did you say was in this?”
“Source. I’ll explain when we’re headed home.” Getting out of the car, I walked back to the first home I could remember, walked up the short sidewalk and climbed the steps to the front door. Opening the screen, I rapped on the interior, then let the screen slip back into place.
Aunt Martina opened it, looking like she always had—long golden brown hair, short height, slim physique.
“Tara, how was the traffic?” She smiled as she opened the screen and allowed me to enter. “My goodness, look at you, all grown and beautiful. You have Hiskia’s beautiful eyes. You really shouldn’t have stayed a stranger.”
“You never liked me.”
She laughed. “You were a difficult changeling.” Martina moved down the hall toward the kitchen. “Mom’s there in the sunroom.”
Seeing how they’d remodeled the interior, my eyes widened. “Wow, this looks great.” The nasty old carpet had been replaced with hardwood floor, the floral wallpaper had been stripped, and the walls painted a neutral gray. And from what I could see of the kitchen, the green counters had been replaced with quartz and the appliances updated with stainless steel.
“Your uncle finally made good on his promise.”
Stepping into the living room, I peered to my right into the sunroom. This had been my room where my crib had been located, along with cubbies filled with toys. It had been where I stood on the couch and stared out the front window, watching for Mom and Dad.
Now, it was a replica of Gran’s room at the nursing home. Gran sat in a rocking chair near her bed while watching shows on television. Her thin silvery hair was short and permed from her monthly salon visit, and she had a knitted pink shawl over her lap.
“Hello, Gran.” I entered, steeling myself for what was coming.
“Chiara?” A grin detailed all her wrinkles.
My heartstrings tightened. The more I’d grown closer to the age Gran had last seen my biological mother, the more she mistook me for her. The more she forgot the little toddler she’d raised. This was a big part of why I avoided coming. It hurt too much to be taken for the woman who’d abandoned her. Quickly, I moved to sit in the open chair. “No, Gran, it’s Tara.”
She peered at me.
“Tara, your granddaughter.”
“You’re too tall to be her.” She looked puzzled, then the confusion passed as she looked at the television, which played a show that had to be from the twentieth century.
I took a deep breath in, then reached for her soft-as-silk, bone-thin hand. It used to be so strong.
She was full of positive source. That was good to know. Aunt Martina was taking good care of her.
“Are you managing your source well?” Aunt Martina brought a plate that had a cinnamon roll, scrambled eggs, and apple slices on it, which she handed to me.
My heart felt warm. How many times had Gran made this same meal for me? “Thank you.” I looked at her. “And it’s hit or miss with my source lately. Kind of had a crazy year.”
“Your mom was...saying...oh, my—what’s she doing here?” Eyes growing wide, Aunt Martina’s gaze was out the window.
I started to rise.
“You stay there.” She pointed at me, and I plopped down.
As she headed into the hall, someone quickly rapped on the front door, followed up with the swing and bang of it opening.
A numb energy trickled through me. I didn’t want to guess who it was.
“You can’t walk in here like you own the place,” Aunt Martina said.
“Your email said Mom might pass within the week. I’m here to see her before she does.”
It was my bio mom. Dark-source-inspired nausea took over my stomach, and I wanted to simultaneously throw up and run for the nearest exit. In all my sixteen years, she’d never once visited Gran.
“Now’s not a good time. Come back later.”
“Nonsense. I’m here now.”
“No, Chiara—”
The tap tap of heels clacked on the hardwood floor and an older version of me appeared in the arched opening between the sunroom and living room.
I felt like the stereotypical deer caught in headlights, frozen, unable to move. Unable to think.
“Hello…” She saw me. “You must be my sister’s daughter, Nadia.”
“My name’s Tara.”
The color drained from her face. “Martina, what’s going on here?” She took a step toward her sister. “The adoption was supposed to be closed. You and mom were not supposed to have contact.”
“Adoption?” I said, confused. “What adoption? You abandoned me at the hospital after you didn’t want me. I spent a year in foster care until Gran got custody of me.”
“My mom got custody?” Anger flashed in her eyes. “Of all the lies!” she exploded, looking at Martina briefly. “You’re right, I didn’t want you. Your father left me at the altar because he’d found someone who was a pure alv, and I wasn’t.”
I narrowed my eyes. Dad had never said anything about being previously engaged. Though, he was a pure alv and so was Mom. Still...
“My job was low-paying. I had no way to support you. You were a changeling. I wasn’t,” she pointed at her chest, “and I knew I didn’t have the maternal instinct to deal with that on top of all the other baby behavior.” She took a deep breath.
I cringed.
“But I never abandoned you at a hospital. I wasn’t that cold-hearted.” She pulled open the purse hanging from her arm and pulled out a wallet. From inside, she took out an old, folded photograph, with tattered edges. She handed it unfolded to me. “I left you with a family I trusted. People who would take care of you. A mother who was a changeling.”
I hesitated. This was so different than the story Gran had told me.
“Chiara—” my aunt intruded. “Her father wasn’t Robert. Look at her.”
Wait, did Chiara not even know Hiskia’s my father?
The anger evaporated from Chiara’s face. “She’s Hiskia’s?”
I nodded slowly.
“We tried to contact you…” Martina trailed. “But you’d disappeared to Europe with no contact information.”
“I bet you tried really hard,” Chiara said and pointed at the photograph. “I didn’t abandon you, but it doesn’t surprise me my mother stole you. She tried to keep you when you were born.”
Slowly, knowing my outlook on my origin was already changing, I took the photograph and looked at the tiny newborn swaddled in a pink blanket. She was held by a woman with beach-blonde hair, wearing bright pink lipstick. She was beautiful, but I didn’t recognize her.
I immediately recognized the man with his arms held around both the woman and baby.
“Daniel,” I whispered.
27. The Truth
I didn’t want the truth from this woman who hadn’t wanted me. Or from Martina, who hadn’t liked me. I wanted it from the person who’d fathered me like I was his own.
Because maybe I almost had been. They’d wanted to adopt. They’d lived in California. The clues were all there.
“Excuse
me.” Taking the picture, I raced outside to Jack’s car. When I tried to open the passenger door, I found it locked. Rapping on the window, I startled Jack awake.
Blinking, he looked at me, momentarily confused, before he hit the unlock button.
I opened the door and slipped inside. “Can I use your phone?”
“What’s going on?” Jack asked.
I handed him the photograph. “Please? And some privacy?” I was trying really hard to stay calm so dark source wouldn’t consume me and cloud my thinking.
“Okay.” His bewilderment deepened as he looked at the picture and picked up his phone from where it rested on the dash. “I take it you’re learning something.” After pressing his password, he handed his phone to me.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“I’ll go for a walk down the street and back.”
I nodded, and he exited the car.
I dialed Daniel’s number.
He immediately answered it. “Jack, is everything all right?”
I stared at the more youthful image of Daniel in the photograph; the pure joy in his eyes. My mind stretched for the question I wanted to ask. “Were you almost my dad?” I said in almost a whisper.
Silence.
Then, “Tara, what do you mean?” He sounded tired.
“Chiara’s here. She showed me a picture of you with a newborn baby.”
Again Daniel paused for several seconds. “Ah.” His voice choked up. When he spoke again, his voice quavered. “Maurine and I were your foster parents. We were in the process of finalizing adoption when she got sick. The state didn’t think I was fit to take care of you alone…”
Tears slipped down my cheeks. This is the sob story he wouldn’t tell me.
“Plus, your caseworker was a pure alv who didn’t think a non-alv should keep a changeling. So they gave full custody to your grandmother, who’d been fighting Maurie and I to have you.” He took a deep breath. “I know you love Gran, but she was horrible at taking care of you alone. She didn’t have the means to support you, and I stepped in as much as she let me.”
I wiped tears from my cheeks. Daniel had been there from the beginning, watching over me, and I hadn’t even known.
“Honestly, I was actually really angry with your gran, so I convinced your father, Hiskia, to take a paternity test to prove you were his. Originally, I’d been told your father was Chiara’s ex-fiance, but your looks were so different. I asked Hiskia if it was possible you were his, because he and Chiara had been on and off through college and had a brief fling right after Chiara’s wedding fiasco. After we found out you were his, and Chiara proved impossible to contact, he sued to gain custody of you and won.”
The Changeling's Source (Evedon Legacy Book 1) Page 30
