Discern (24 page)

“I know what you are, and I know what I want,” I said sternly.

He flashed a smile. “You’re absolutely adorable, but it isn’t just deciding if you can live with what I am. You have much to figure out when it comes to your heart.”

He was right. My mother’s death still haunted me. “I can give half my heart,” I offered.

“I don’t want half. I want it all,” he breathed as he ran the back of his hand across my cheek, sending sparks tingling throughout my face.

“Do you feel that when we touch?” I asked breathing heavily.

“Feel what?”

“The sparks of electricity,” I said closing my eyes, marveling at this feeling.

“You feel that?” His voice quivered.

“Yes, it’s electrifying.”

“I know,” he sighed heavily.

“How will I get a hold of you tomorrow night after I’ve given all of this thought?”

“I will call you. I’m as nervous as you, but I must allow you this time not only to decide about me, but to heal your heart,” he said.

“You said you would wait for that to happen,” I reminded.

“Yes, but I have to know that you want me for what I am, and are willing to try to heal your heart. It’s a lot to ask, knowing the circumstances have changed. But there’s a lot at stake now.”

“Because I know so much?”

“Yes.”

Our gaze ended as he slowly stood from the couch. He extended his hand, and I placed mine in his. I would honor his request, but I knew nothing would change my feelings.

We walked slowly down the street to where I had parked my car. I wasn’t in a hurry to reach it, the longer it took, the better. His thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, just wondering if letting you go tonight is really the right thing to do,” he half-smiled.

“I don’t have to leave.”

“You do, and I have to give you this chance—as much as it pains me to do so.”

“My feelings won’t change,” I promised.

“I hope they don’t.”

We reached my car, which already had the morning dew covering every window and slightly on the roof. The cool moisture tickled my finger as I casually ran it across the window. I opened the door slowly, delaying the inevitable.

“They won’t,” I assured.

He carefully bent down, and lightly placed his warm, soft lips against my forehead. “Tomorrow,” he whispered.

Our eyes met one last time before I slid into my car. I would have preferred that his lips touch mine, but he probably would have shunned me if I tried. He slowly disappeared in the rearview mirror as I drove away.

12

Goodbye

Today was going to be difficult as I had much to contemplate. The past two days had been surreal. “Ouch!” I exclaimed, pinching my skin as hard as I could. I wasn’t dreaming, and this wasn’t some fantasy book. Nothing seemed like a fantasy, besides the way it felt when he and I touched. Inhaling deeply, I recalled the feeling of that sensation.

My mind wandered, imagining what our first kiss would be like. If it was anything like our touch, I wasn’t sure I could contain these new desires that seemed to be creeping in. I blushed at the thought of feeling his lips against mine. I had never wanted something as much as I wanted that kiss.

My smile faded, knowing I had a choice to make today. At least I hoped it was really my choice and he hadn’t left while I slept. I had so many questions remaining that only he could answer. I really didn’t need time to mull this over. A part of my heart had been his since the day we touched, and the voice of reason in my head was too faint to be heard any longer.

There was no way to disregard the part where he was immortal and consumed human souls, but I was drawn to him. Something I could not myself even explain. There may only be half of my heart that I can give now, but in time, the other half would return, and it would be his as well.

My father was getting ready to watch the football game. I trotted downstairs to share a quick moment with him before his friends arrived.

“Good afternoon, daddy.” I tried to sound happy.

“Good afternoon, sweetie. Glad to see you made it home last night.”

“Dad, I always come home.”

“So are you going to tell me more about your friend?”

“What friend?”

“The one you snuck off with the other night,” he smirked.

“Oh, that friend,” I said slowly, buying some time. “Well, I’m not exactly clear on how I feel about my friend,” I replied sharply.

“No need to get upset. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind. But don’t worry about me, I’m always safe,” I lied.

“Good.”

A knock at the door sent me running upstairs. My father’s friends had arrived.

“Where are you going?!” my father shouted.

I slowly stomped back downstairs. “I have a paper due,” I lied again. I hated lying, but choosing to be with Andrew meant lying was going to be a big part of my life.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs with a look of concern. “You sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, dad, I’m fine,” I sighed. Fooling my dad was usually easy when the house was filled with testosterone.

“Let me know if you need me, sweetie. I’ll gladly take time out for you,” he smiled.

“Thanks, Dad.”

I ran back up the stairs and into my room, flopping down on the bed. It was only noon, but I decided to check my phone. No missed calls. I sighed heavily and grabbed my laptop. I decided to search for the word Parevite, but I stopped myself. Internet searches could be easily tracked, and I had no intention of giving away Andrew’s secret—although knowing it weighed heavy on my mind. The danger of being involved with a creature, such as he, was frightening. Even referring to him as a creature conjured up mixed feelings. But I knew what I truly had to contemplate was my mother’s death and healing the hole it had left.

The smell of raspberries and pears with a little dash of gardenias flooded my senses. Thoughts of my mother began to surface. She would always dab a little perfume on in the morning before starting her day. No matter if she was doing a little housework or getting ready for one of her charity events. Every morning began the same and every evening ended the same as well. She was consistent.

The sound of her singing preceded her every morning as she entered my room. Each day she sang a different lullaby. She would gently stroke my forehead to wake me from my sleep. The warmth of her hand was reassuring, and her kiss was comforting. She was my whole world—she meant everything to me.

In the evening, she would lightly tap on my door as she stood there, waiting for my nod. Neatly straightening out my blanket and gently tucking the corners around my waist, she would simply smile while leaning over me, and whisper ever so softly, ‘you are the best thing that ever happened to me.’ I would whisper back ‘I love you, mom.’ She would kiss my forehead, click on my lamp, flick off the overhead light and stroll out of my room.

Those moments with my mother had been taken for granted. I assumed she would be the one constant in my life. Those moments, however, eventually turned painful as she began her decent into darkness. There were no more kisses, no more loving words and no more goodnights. Only rejection and tears were left in their place. She was rarely home in the last few months of her life.

My mother slowly died as she battled a memory from her childhood that had resurfaced after her father’s death. He was an evil man that did not deserve the air he breathed. If it weren’t for his actions, my mother would still be alive.

The teardrops steadily dropped onto my hands as they fell. I needed to stop dwelling on my mother’s death. She was gone, and there was nothing I could do to change that fact.

My thoughts switched to Andrew. My phone had been quiet all day long. It was almost 5 o’clock now and no word from him yet. But even if he called right now, he would know I hadn’t truly dealt with the issue yet. There was only one thing to do.

I threw on an old pair of jeans and a sweater and rushed downstairs. My father was napping on the couch. I scribbled a few words down on piece of blank paper.

Dad,

Left to take a drive. Yes, I’m fine, I will return.

Love,

Haley

I slid the note on top of the dark, walnut brown coffee table. My mother had purchased every piece of furniture in this house. I ran my finger along the light, tan condensation ring that was left accidentally by one of my glasses. My mother had been so upset with me. I had forgotten to use a coaster and damaged the wood. I remember trying to use a marker to cover up the ring, but she noticed it.

She hadn’t really been that upset with me because of the ring, it was more because I lied to her and told her that dad had done it. No matter how upset she was with me, she never really punished me. She said I never did anything truly bad, so she had no need to.

I gently touched my father’s shoulder. ‘I love you’ I whispered in his ear. He couldn’t hear me, but I wanted to make sure I said it before leaving. I planned on returning home, but I could no longer be certain of this with everything that had happened.

The streets were dark. The decorative black iron streetlights’ glow was dim. Sunday nights in
Boulder
’s downtown were reminiscent of an old ghost town. The locals stayed inside this time of year. And the ski season hadn’t begun, so the streets weren’t filled with the usual
California
tourist looking to have a good time.

The flower gardens that once lined the red brick sidewalks had since lost their blooms and were now just brown withered pieces of grass waiting for the winter snow to destroy them completely. I cracked the windows of my car, allowing the cool October air to gently caress my face. The smell of burning wood hinted at winter’s return.

I jumped north on highway thirty-six, impatiently weaving in and out of what little traffic there was.
Boulder
had become a traffic nightmare in the past ten years, but thankfully most everyone seemed to be at home tonight. My destination was only a few miles away, but it still felt far. I impatiently tapped my fingers on the steering wheel.

I veered onto the
Kalmia Avenue
exit ramp and sped down the street. Bright shining floodlights lit the orange stone entrance sign. The black iron gates were still wide open. I cautiously drove up the paved road. My mother’s grave was near the large stone sign with praying hands.

I stopped the car. I inhaled deeply. I could do this. I was ready. I would finally say goodbye to my mother. She was gone, and I could face this now. I reached across the passenger seat, popped open the glove box and blindly searched with my hand.

I wrapped my fingers around the cool, metal flashlight. My father always put one in every car. I pressed the button to make sure it worked before I was out too far in the cemetery.

If I had chosen to do this later in the month, I wouldn’t have been alone. Teenagers loved to come out here and cause a few scares. But Halloween was not for another week or so, and no one ever ventured out here this time of night.

I pointed the flashlight out toward the cemetery and began walking. I hadn’t been here since her funeral. I avoided everything that was even close to the cemetery. Just passing by this place would have been too much to handle.

The silence was eerie. No bugs chirping, no wind was blowing, no cars driving by, just the sound of my feet crunching down on the dead grass. A chill ran down my spine. I started thinking about souls. Were any of the dead that lay under my feet without a soul? Where did our souls go once we died? Did reincarnation really exist? I had so many questions left for Andrew to answer.

I slid my phone out from my jeans pocket—still no call. There was no signal—of course the cemetery would be a dead zone. I chuckled darkly to myself. I couldn’t allow my mind to wander and start panicking yet. He would call and if not, I would see him tomorrow night. I told myself this, trying not to get hysterical over something I could not control.

My light shined on her black, granite headstone. I was taken aback for a moment as I softly kneeled down in front of her grave. Fresh lilies had been placed at her headstone—they had always been her favorite flowers. My father and I were the only ones that had known this small fact. He must have visited her recently. No matter how I thought he was moving on, he really wasn’t. He was just as lost as me; only he could bear to be near the reminder of her death.

I closed my eyes, trying to keep my momentum going. Coming back to this place meant she was really gone. How I wished she wasn’t. If I could have one wish it would be to have her here again. She was my mother, my idol and my best friend.

I slid my hand gently across her headstone. Feeling the etched letters:

In Loving Memory of

Mary Ann Elizabeth Helms

August 12, 1956 – December 30, 2008

A wonderful wife, mother, and humanitarian

that will truly be missed; we love you