In Dreams (15 page)

You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.

HOOK
, 1991

I
collapse into a sitting position onto my bed and pull one of the pillows against my chest. My heart shatters.

I start to cry, the tears coming from the place in my soul that has always somehow known I was different, a fatherless girl. The place where I feel an ache for what I am. For who I am, for the whole confusing mess of my birthright. And I cry for my mom and Grandpa, the two people I love most in the world. Annie sits next to me and just puts her arms around me until I can’t cry anymore. She pats my back.

“Shh, Iris. I promise. We’ll get them back. We’ll call the police and . . .”

I pull away and look at her. “I can’t call the police. What am I going to say? A psychotic
god
with mirrored eyes took her? I can’t even tell your mom and dad. I don’t know what to do. I have to pretend that everything is okay until I can figure this out.”

She stands up and goes into the bathroom and gets me a roll of toilet paper so I can blow my nose and dry my face.

“You can’t stay here alone, Iris. It’s too dangerous. Come stay at my house for a few days. Christmas break is here. We’ll tell my parents . . . hmm.” She crinkles her face. “We’ll tell them that your grandfather took your mom to the Mayo Clinic or something. That they had a cancellation and he and your mom took it. And that you need to stay with us. Wouldn’t want you alone at the holiday time.”

I shake my head. “I appreciate it, Annie. But I’m not putting your family in danger.”

“You would do it for me.”

“I know. But your parents have been like my substitute parents practically since we’ve met. I won’t do that. What if something happened to them, or to you, or to the Tiny Terrors? I’d never forgive myself.”

My only family members in this whole wide
real
world are gone. And Annie’s right, I can’t stay here,
waiting for my deranged uncle to come snatch me, too. And if I can’t go to my only other “family,” what am I going to do? And then it dawns on me. I
have
another family member.

I lean over and open my desk drawer and dig around.

“Aphrodite’s card,” I say, holding it up.

Annie’s face brightens. “Brilliant! Call her. Do you think she’ll come stay with you?”

“I hope so. She
is
my aunt, after all. But . . . I’ve only met her that once, and she might not want to get involved.” I think of Epiales. Of his dead voice and insane eyes. I don’t know if anyone would want to go up against him if she didn’t have to.

With a shaking hand, I dial her number.

I get her voice mail. “You have reached the private phone line of Aphrodite Cypris, Matchmaker to the Stars. Want to find the love of your life? Then leave a message at the beep.”

I take a deep breath. Then I speak. “Aphrodite?
Aunt
Aphrodite . . . I’m in trouble. Big trouble. This is Iris, by the way. Um . . . I came home from a session with Dr. Koios, and my house was ransacked—and my grandfather and mother have been taken. I know it was Epiales, and I know they’re in grave danger. I don’t know what to do, or where to turn. I’m sorry
to bother you. Really sorry. But I need help, and I don’t know who else to call. Please call me back.”

I disconnect the call and look at Annie and shrug with a sigh. “If she won’t come . . .” I know Dr. Koios would help me, but he’s so mild mannered. I feel as if I need a stronger god on my side.

“She will,” Annie says. But I can see the doubt in her mind. “Listen, I’m sleeping over tonight. You don’t have a say in the matter. Come on,” she whispers, “let’s clean this place up.”

We start in the living room. I gently put the shards of glass in a brown paper trash bag from the grocery store, and Annie runs the vacuum cleaner. The two of us push the couch back up on its four legs. I pick up my mother’s precious books that were scattered, and place them back on the coffee table. We put the desk drawers back into the desk and put all the papers and other items back where they belong.

Then we go to Mom’s room and remake the bed and straighten up. I want her room to be perfect for if she comes back. For
when
she comes back. She
has
to come back.

When we’re finished, I pull out my cell phone, thinking maybe I accidentally had it on silent and missed Aphrodite’s call. But she hasn’t called. I start to think she never will.

“Want to come to my house for dinner?” Annie asks. “You know my mom. Always enough for any extras at the table. I think tonight she was making meat loaf. You know how good hers is.”

“No,” I say, even as my mouth involuntarily waters at the thought of Mrs. Casey’s home cooking. “It will be too hard to act as if everything is okay. I’m too much of a mess. Let’s order sushi like we planned.”

“How are you going to pay? Your grandpa’s not here. And sushi isn’t cheap.”

I smile. “The cash drawer.”

“The what?”

I lead her into the kitchen. Next to the take-out menu drawer is another drawer filled with cash. Grandpa always keeps a decent-size stash of just-in-case money around. There is usually at least a thousand dollars in it. Grandpa, before he retired, was a very successful architect with his own design firm and a bunch of employees.

He and my grandmother had a fancy house a few towns over in Piermont, on the water overlooking the Hudson—a house he designed with tall windows to take in the view. He always said he felt as if he was rattling around it once my grandmother died. Then, when my mom got sick, he sold it and moved in with us, even though our house is not as big and not as
fancy. About the same time, he sold his design firm, too, for a lot of money.

He’s always been determined to live life to the fullest since then, so we have amazing season tickets to the Yankees, right behind home plate. And we have a cash drawer where other people have spatulas and whisks.

“Holy crap!” Annie says. “How did I not know Grandpa kept a drawer of
cash
?”

I shrug. “I know, right?”

Annie calls her mom and tells her she’s going to sleep over at my house. We sit down at the table with the Japanese menu to figure out our order when the doorbell rings.

I look warily at Annie. The last time I answered the door for delivery, things did not go well. I go to the pantry. On the bottom shelf is Grandpa’s toolbox. I open it and pull out a hammer.

“Just in case,” I whisper.

Annie and I creep to the front door, and I peer through the peephole. I open the door.

“Iris! Annie!” Aphrodite screams. “I came as soon as I got your call! Come to your aunt Aphrodite!” Then she pulls us to her, nearly crushing us both against her ample chest.

She enters the living room. Behind her is a
totally
hot guy, head shaven and big muscles, in a tight-fitting black sweater and Levi’s, carrying two huge suitcases plus a garment bag.

“This is Nico,” she says. “This is my sweet, sweet niece, Iris, and her equally adorable best friend, Annie.”

He puts down the suitcases. I put the hammer down on a bookshelf, and he shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Iris.” He grins. When he smiles, he’s even hotter, if that’s possible. He’s got this chasm of a dimple in his left cheek. Then he shakes Annie’s hand. “Annie . . . nice to meet you.” Her mouth is slightly agape.

He leans close to Aphrodite and kisses her neck. He whispers, sexily, “I’ll go get the rest of your things out of the car.”

“Thank you, Nico,” she purrs.

When he goes outside, I ask, “Uh, is he staying here, too?”

“No, no. He wanted to, but . . . well, it would be best if he didn’t know everything that’s going on. He’ll worry. I told him to stay with his bakery and that I’ll check in.”

Nico returns with
another
two suitcases. I don’t want to stare, but I’m wondering how long Aphrodite thinks this is going to take—she’s packed enough for
a month. He makes one more trip and comes back with two large brown paper take-out bags.

“I hope you don’t mind eating Greek tonight, girls,” Aphrodite says. She removes the dramatic full-length opera cape she’s wearing. Beneath it, she’s wearing a black velvet dress, low cut and revealing cleavage, but perfectly hugging her hips. She is as blinged out as the first time we saw her, and if possible, her hair is teased even higher. And she’s wearing a tiara. With what looks like real diamonds. I’ve decided Aphrodite is the
original
diva.

Nico walks through to the kitchen and puts the bags on the table. Then he comes back to kiss Aphrodite good-bye.

I almost have to look away. The kiss they share is so passionate. Like out of a movie or something.

He waves good-bye to the three of us and goes outside to his car—a black Mercedes SUV—and pulls away. He
had
to have an SUV just to fit all of Aphrodite’s crap in it.

Aphrodite ushers us into the kitchen. She immediately starts opening cupboards, finding plates and cups. I move to help her, but she waves me away.

“No, no, you sit. You’ve been through a trauma.”

Annie and I sit at the table. Aphrodite puts a plate
in front of each of us and one for herself at the head of the table. Then she starts unpacking the Greek takeout. There is souvlaki and meats wrapped in grape leaves. Other dishes emerge from containers, but I don’t even know what they are. She pulls out pastries for dessert. I am suddenly reminded that I haven’t eaten. My mouth waters spontaneously, despite how upset I am.

“Tell me everything,” Aphrodite says when she has put all the food on the table. She opens a bottle of red wine for herself and hands Annie and me Cokes. Then she finally sits.

I tell her all about Dr. Koios, about the museum—again leaving out the part about Sebastian’s hand under my T-shirt. I tell her about the bullets. I try to remember everything, every detail. I tell her about the conversation between Annie and me in the Volkswagen. I even tell her about our song. And then I tell her about coming home to the disaster. My mom. Grandpa. When I talk, my throat tightens, and I have to wipe at a stray tear with a napkin.

Aphrodite’s face grows dark. I see, I swear, light flash in her eyes, like sparks. Her eyes are as blue as sapphires, but the sparks are real, like fireworks against a July summer sky. I am reminded she is a goddess, from another world.

“We’ll get them back, I promise you. So help me Zeus,” she says, and raises her right hand.

I exhale and look at Annie. I feel a little better with a goddess on my side.

“Give me the night to sleep on it. By tomorrow I’ll have a plan. And don’t worry. Epiales won’t harm them, I don’t think. He’s doing this to scare you and to seriously piss off his brother. But for now, I’m sure they’re safe. It’s
you
he wants.”

As if that makes me feel any better.

After dinner, I show Aphrodite to the guest room. She smiles. “This is quite lovely.” She surveys the sleigh bed. It has one of my old mattresses on it—the pillow top that cost thousands and is supposed to be the most comfortable mattress ever made. It still never helped me sleep. “Just a few little changes,” she murmurs.

She goes to the living room, where Nico left her suitcases. The garment bag is full of gowns and dresses. She brings it to her room and starts hanging things in the walk-in closet. I can’t help but notice that all the gowns are designer fashions with expensive labels and extravagant fabrics. I didn’t even know some of them made plus-size clothes.

The next suitcase is full of beauty supplies—creams that I know cost hundreds of dollars an ounce—and
jewelry, all of which looks real. She also has hot rollers, curling irons, cans of hairspray, and framed pictures of Greece and one of Nico. She puts that one on the nightstand.

Back in the living room, she starts unpacking a suitcase filled with her beloved snow globes and other knickknacks. I smile to myself. My grandfather would have a fit. He’s a believer in sleek design and simplicity. Every stick of furniture in our house he has handpicked. Even his reclining La-Z-Boy is leather and elegant-looking. She puts snow globes on the coffee table and on the bookshelves. Soon there’s clutter everywhere.

After she’s completely unpacked, she sits down. “Ah, this is so much better.”

“We’re going to go change into our pajamas. Annie is sleeping over, if that’s okay.” I need something to keep my mind off my missing family.

“Okay?” Her eyes sparkle like gemstones again. “I’ve never had a slumber party in all my thousands of years! How fun!”

While Annie and I change, so does Aphrodite. We come out in sweats and T-shirts. Aphrodite emerges from her bedroom in a negligee and robe, the collar of which is covered in real mink. She looks like a 1940s movie star. She is perched on heeled slippers
with fur trim, and, of course, she’s still wearing all her bling.

“All right. So what do we do at a slumber party?” She claps her hands excitedly. Her nails are perfectly manicured in an orchid color. There are rhinestones on the tips.

I’m still achy, but I have already come to adore my new aunt, and I don’t want to disappoint her—especially since she has waited thousands of years for a sleepover.

“W-e-ll,” I say, drawing out the word, “we usually make popcorn.”

“And drink Red Bulls,” adds Annie.

“Lots of them,” I say. “Especially tonight, since Dr. Koios has warned me
not
to go down the hallway of my dreams.”

“And we rent movies.”

“Ooh, such fun!” Aphrodite croons.

“Only problem,” I say, “is the only TV is in my room. The three of us will have to squeeze onto my bed.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Do we get to talk about boys?”

“Of course,” Annie and I say in unison.

We make the popcorn and raid the fridge for all the Red Bulls we have. I also remember we’ve got a large
stash of Girl Scout cookies—Grandpa is a sucker for the little girl two doors down and always buys, like, a hundred dollars’ worth—and a box of Raisinets. They are Grandpa’s favorite candy. I take them out of the pantry, but then I feel my eyes water, so I put them back. I’ll save them for when he is home safely. I grab a bag of Doritos instead.