Designed to Love (2 page)

"Wait, I told you that I've only practiced
takeoffs and landings a few times, and that was over a year ago,
right?" I ask, giving her another opportunity to delay today's
lesson.

"Yes, Cat. You've already told me. Listen,
I've been doing this for a long time, if I didn't think you were
ready, I wouldn't be sitting in the right seat. Trust me, you're
ready," she says self-assuredly.

Her confidence gives me the needed surge of
courage and when the air traffic controller clears me for take-off,
I give the aircraft full throttle, easily reaching a climbing speed
by mid runway. She's right. Everything comes back to me, like
riding a bike and within minutes we are 3000 feet above the ground
and I am circling the airport, preparing to do my first touch-n-go
landing. An hour later, I've completed five and Marti says if I
continue at this pace, I will be ready for a solo flight before the
beginning of next year. The elation that I feel, when I pull off
the active runway is second only to seeing Ronan standing there,
his face brimming with pride.

Running to him, I launch into his arms,
wrapping my legs around his waist. "I did it!" I squeal. He easily
supports my weight with one arm as he simulates my near perfect
landings with the other hand, making realistic airplane noises as
he recaps the event from his perspective.

***

After I finish an hour long rambling
narrative, detailing my flying lesson, the drive back to the
Freeman property becomes quiet. Ronan listens patiently, his amused
expression fading only when I'm finished.

"Ronan, is something wrong?" I ask
tentatively, only now noticing his troubled expression.

He steals a sideway glance and clears his
throat. "Bernie Stoddard called and wants to start
training—tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Why tomorrow? I thought she was
going to wait at least until after Thanksgiving," I say trying to
hide my disappointment.

"She wants to do some preliminary testing on
us, over the next few days. We are flying to Nevada tomorrow
morning," he says trying to make it sound like it's no big
deal.

"Can I go too?" I ask hopefully, already
dreading being separated from Claire and him.

"Top Secret facility, even some top military
officials have never been there. She won't let any outsiders
accompany us, even Jason," he answers quietly, grabbing my hand and
locking his fingers around mine.

"But I'm Claire's sister," I start to
protest, in vain. I hated the thought of being considered an
"outsider." I was already feeling excluded by the group's ability
to connect telepathically, and now being left out of Top Secret
military missions, that my not quite, six-year-old sister was
heavily involved in, seemed unfair.

We drive in silence and my heart catches in
my throat when I look up at him.

"There's more isn't there?"

He takes a deep breath. "Alisha told her we
were planning on getting married and she contacted me privately.
She didn't want to say anything to the others until she had more
evidence, but felt that you and I should know...

"Know what?"

"She believes that there is a connection
between the deaths of all of our family members and was concerned
that our marriage might put you in some sort of danger too."

I stare at him waiting for the punch
line.

"You're joking right?"

His jaw tightens and the knuckles on his
hand turn white from gripping the steering wheel.

"Okay, that has to be the most absurd thing
I have ever heard. Please tell me you don't buy it," I say,
becoming more annoyed by the second.

"Well, I don't know Bernie all that well,
but... she doesn't seem like the type that would make such a
statement without a whole lot of proof to back it up."

"Ronan, did you stop to think that maybe
Alisha put her up to it? Or maybe she has her own selfish reasons
for not wanting her golden Designer boy distracted with a wedding
and a wife. Maybe she wants to make sure you are available for
carrying out her undercover secret missions. Or I don't know, maybe
she just doesn't think seventeen-year-olds should be getting
married," I say accusingly.

"Cat, she's one of the most powerful women
in America. Do you really think she has the time to trifle with our
personal lives?" he responds evenly.

"Okay, so what do you want to do?" I ask,
looking out the window so he won't see me blinking back the tears
that I couldn't even justify shedding.

"I want to keep you safe at all cost. I want
a guarantee that you'll go to sleep and wake-up by my side every
day," he says, squeezing my hand.

Romancing
DNA,
I think as an unwarranted tear slowly trickles down
my cheek. I let out a big sigh and watch the mile markers on the
freeway whiz by trying to make sense of Bernie's warnings. It
seemed like such a preposterous theory that I wondered why Ronan
would even bother bringing it up to me.

"Look Ronan, my parents and brother are
dead. Claire and I attended their funerals. I just can't buy the
conspiracy theory," I finally reply. "And besides, if my
relationship with you is a threat to me then so is my relationship
to Claire. Would you have me disown her as well?"

He shakes his head no. I choose my next
words carefully.

"I refuse to live my life in fear Ronan. It
was my parent's decree to live life to the fullest. My dad used to
say, 'You're not truly living if you're riding a train that's
standing still. If you want to ride the train of life, then you
have to be willing to jump on and off while it's moving; even if it
means getting hurt.' So, are you willing to let me jump?"

His brows furrow and his whole body seems to
tense up as he concentrates on the road ahead. I can tell he's
struggling with the question.

"Say it. Say you're willing to let me jump,"
I cheer him on, trying to lighten the mood.

Finally, without saying a word he rolls his
eyes in defeat, and raises his right hand. Imitating a train
engineer, he pulls a make belief cord, and to my delight lets out
the perfect imitation of a locomotive steam whistle.

***

"Please make sure they don't push Claire too
hard," I whisper in Ronan's ear as the others load their suitcases
in Brandon's plane, preparing for their trip to Nevada.

"Cat, she has five pairs of eyes watching
out for her, she'll be fine. I promise," he says with
confidence.

The logical side of me knows he's absolutely
right, but the emotional side of me wants to insist she stay home
with me. I haven't seen Claire this happy since before the death of
our parents. She's no longer solely my responsibility, and now she
is thriving under the care of the six other adults in the house;
six adults who all have adopted her in some way or another. Jason
and Alisha treat her like a daughter. Elizabeth and Michael are
like a favorite aunt and uncle. Brandon and Burke are her
adventurous older brothers, and Ronan will officially be her
brother-in-law in a matter of a few months. I think she's fondest
of him, maybe because she sees how happy he makes me, or maybe it's
because she knows he loves her like I do.

"She wants me to remind you that she wants a
horse for her birthday," Ronan says, laughing softly. Claire had
made her birthday wishes known to all of us, making sure she had
all her bases covered. It really was pointless for her to continue
reminding me, as if I were the final decision maker in the matter.
The others were already searching the western United States for the
perfect breed, then arguing when they couldn't agree on one. Still,
it made me feel good that she still considered me as a person of
authority.

Jason, Michael and I wait on the back deck
watching Brandon take off from his private airstrip. He makes a few
circles around the house, than flies east disappearing over the
horizon. Michael puts his arm around my shoulder, giving me a
comforting squeeze. He hated giving Elizabeth up for the next three
days, too. Ronan's kiss lingers on my lips and my body still feels
warm inside, like after drinking hot cocoa while standing in a snow
storm.

"I'll be with you every night," he had
whispered, insinuating that he would remotely travel to the Freeman
house.

"Humph, a lot of good that does me," I
reminded him with a less than enthusiastic attitude.

RONAN

The flight to Nevada takes us a little over
four hours, accounting for the one hour time difference. There is a
military helicopter waiting for us, just as Bernie said there would
be and the flight to the training facility was precisely
thirty-three minutes, also just like Bernie said it would be.
Eighty-three miles northwest of Las Vegas sits Area 51, Nevada's
test and training military base and our home for the next three
days. Bernie warned us that we would be blindfolded before being
escorted by guards to our quarters, which was an eighteen-minute
walk from the main inspection station. Of course, Claire and I
witness the whole journey, remotely hovering just above the others.
We join them in a mental conference room and describe our
surroundings detail by detail. The descent by elevator, six
subterranean levels below has Elizabeth a little spooked but her
face remains neutral as she lets the guard guide her down a long
corridor and through several sets of gray metal doors. Claire and I
veer off course to explore every room along the way. We find two
large computer rooms, a cafeteria, lab, hospital infirmary,
exercise room, and several conference rooms, all full of military
personnel.

Claire gives us a disappointing color
reading on the majority of people we pass in the hallway— nothing
but oranges and blues.

We finally reach a dead end hallway with a
single elevator that takes us to the seventh subterranean floor.
Our blindfolds are removed and we are standing in a large foyer
that, if I didn't know any better, could be that of a five-star
hotel. The sitting area to the right is furnished with plush fine
leather furniture surrounding a mock rock fireplace, and the front
desk ahead is made of expensive mahogany wood. The guard tells us
to check in at the desk, and promptly turns around to leave. Alisha
kicks into take-charge mode and marches over to the front desk,
with the rest of us following.

The attractive desk attendant greets us
professionally and asks for Alisha's name. "Ah, the Designers," she
mutters after a few key strokes on the computer. "Okay, how would
you like your room accommodations," she asks, eyeing us with modest
curiosity.

Alisha naturally speaks on our behalf,
requesting one room for the ladies, and one for the gents.

I correct her and tell the clerk that I
would prefer a room to myself, and ignore Alisha's dirty look.

The desk clerk hands us our room keys and
says, "By the way, Ms. Stoddard will meet you in the restaurant
area at 6:00 p.m. sharp. The dining area is just around the corner
on your left, and your rooms are down the hall on the right. Have a
good night," she says, smiling, while looking directly at
Burke.

***

Bernie Stoddard is seated in the far corner
of the restaurant with a stack of papers in front of her. She is
smartly dressed in a pair of designer jeans, with a silk blouse,
that has been coordinated by a bright red and yellow scarf tied
around her neck. The fine lines around her eyes and mouth, along
with the short gray hair, contradicts the age depicted by her
toned, athletic build. She greets us with a smile and briefly looks
each of us over in such a manner that you feel like you've just
been interrogated, then resumes thumbing through a file of
paperwork.

"Still yellow," Claire mentally announces as
we approach the table, instantly making everyone feel at ease.

We quietly take a seat at the large round
table, in an almost empty restaurant. Burke and Brandon immediately
reach for the menus and Alisha subtly angles her head in what I
know is an attempt to get a glimpse at the papers being reviewed by
Bernie.

"Alisha, there is no need for you to sneak,
I am about to give you a copy," Bernie says without looking up.

Alisha looks slightly embarrassed for being
caught, but doesn't say anything. Brandon chuckles.

"All right, here is the agenda for the next
three days," Bernie finally says, passing us each a copy, including
Claire. "The purpose of the next three days is to test your
physical as well as psychic abilities. We will be running you
through a series of tests which will include pulmonary, cardiac,
neurological and musculoskeletal testing. Um, and I have a surprise
for you," she says looking at us with a sort of twinkle in her eye.
"What would you say if I was to tell you that I can provide you
with a genome sequencing map before you leave?"

I choke on my sip of water. "All 20,000
genes?" Alisha asks skeptically.

"Well, we perform a shortcut method that
just isolates a variant DNA unit, and we can have the results in
about 48 hours. A full map, will take two to three months. I'm
guessing that you are most interested in the non-human DNA anyway,
right?"

We all nod, including Claire. I feel as if I
just hit the lottery jackpot, I can't wait to tell Cat, pleased
that there will be no more searching for my elusive medical
records, and no more wondering what animal species were introduced
into my genetic makeup. I glance at Burke and am surprised to see
the look of disinterest on his face. Out of habit, we jump into our
mental chat room. "What's wrong Burke?"

He gives a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I
guess, for me, I accepted who I was a long time ago. I don't really
care what DNA was used to make me stronger or faster. Besides, what
if you learn things that are better left undiscovered?"

"Like what?" I respond a little
defensively.