Never Forgotten (Never Forgotten Series) (6 page)

“Thank you.” I delicately stabbed a fry with cheese. They were both covered in the sauce. With reluctance, I tasted it. Salty, cheesy, and crispy. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” He took a huge bite. “These are great.”

I ate another one. It wasn’t as good as the sour cream and chive fries back home. How could anything compete with sour cream and chives? The lemonade tasted fresh squeezed. It wasn’t the watered-down version most fairs sold.

“What do you think of Canada so far?” Evan asked between mouthfuls.

I had just popped a fry in my mouth, so I chewed thoughtfully before answering. “It’s better than I thought, but I miss my friends.”

“I bet. Senior year in a new school. That’s gotta suck.”

I tried to think of something else to talk about. “Where are you going in the fall?” I asked. I hoped it was somewhere close.

“University of King’s College, do you know it?” When I shook my head, he added. “It’s in Halifax. They have a great Marine Biology program.”

“That’s what you want to do?”

“Since I was a kid,” he said. “I love the ocean. How about you?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I have a year to decide, right?” I tried to make a joke out of it, but it came out sounding dumb. Evan didn’t seem to think anything of it.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said.

“Hi Evan.” I looked up to see a girl standing by our table with her arms crossed. Great. Another fan. Only this one could give Barbie some competition. Her long, brown hair was a mass of stylish curls, but her dark eyes blazed. She did not look happy to see Evan with me.

“Jessica.” Evan nodded at her, but didn’t move from his chair.

“Who’s this?” Jessica jerked her head in my direction.

“I’m Meara,” I said, emphasizing the I’m. Who talked in front of someone like they weren’t even there?

“Nice to meet you,” she said, although her expression clearly told me she did not find anything nice about it. “Evan, can I talk to you privately?”

“Not now,” Evan said. “Meara and I are going on the Ferris wheel.”

Evan stood and offered me his hand. As I took it, he squeezed mine. Jessica didn’t see it, but I got the message—play along. I nodded and smiled. “Oh, yeah. I love Ferris wheels.”

In reality, my stomach flipped as I said it. I hated Ferris wheels.

Evan led me away from Jessica, who looked ready to scream. She apparently doesn’t get turned down much.

“Old girlfriend?” I guessed.

“Sorry,” Evan said. He dropped my hand once we were out of Jessica’s sight, and I fought the urge to grab his back. “We don’t have to go on the Ferris wheel if you don’t want to.”

“Good.”

He laughed. “Don’t like the Ferris wheel?”

“I hate heights,” I admitted. “But, I like the Tilt-A-Whirl.”

“Me, too.”

The Tilt-A-Whirl turned out to be the perfect ride. Thanks to gravity, I spent the entire time pressed against Evan’s side, both of us laughing. He took my hand to help me down and didn’t let go.

“Want to try some games?” he asked.

“Sure.”

We played three games, and neither of us won. The next game was one where you threw darts to pop balloons. Evan was good at it. It took him two tries, but he won a pink teddy bear and gave it to me.

I hugged it to my chest. It was silly, but I liked it anyway. “Thanks.”

We shared cotton candy and rode the Tilt-A-Whirl again. “Should we find Katie and your friends?” I asked. I felt bad, like I was keeping him from them.

He pointed to the Ferris wheel. “I spotted them already. They’re in line.”

“Oh.” I was not going on the Ferris wheel, but Katie saw us and motioned to come over. We joined them.

“Want to ride with us?” she asked.

Evan answered for me. “Meara doesn’t like Ferris wheels.”

Katie scowled at him, but then her face brightened. “That’s okay. You ride in my place. I saw a fortune teller. C’mon, Meara. Let’s get our fortunes read.”

It was better than the Ferris wheel, though maybe not much. “We’ll meet you back here,” I told Evan as Katie pulled me away.

“Your friends don’t want to come?” I asked her.

“Nah,” she said. “They teased me and said it’s a bunch of hooey.”

I agreed with her friends, but I didn’t say anything. I could play along. She led us to a small, purple tent. A hand-painted sandwich board sat near the entrance: Madam Tresola—Palm Reading, Tarot Cards, and Psychic Energies…Fortunes Foretold!

Katie stopped outside the entrance and linked her arm through mine. “Let’s go in together.”

“Gurlz,” a heavily accented voice called to us from the dark tent. When my eyes adjusted, an ancient woman of skin and bones stood before us. Her magnified eyes peered at us behind thick glasses. I’d never seen so many folds and wrinkles in a face. A scarlet scarf covered her head, with a few white ringlets of hair escaping near her bejeweled ears. Bracelets jangled on both wrists, and richly toned scarves of sapphire, emerald, and ruby draped every surface in the tent, including Madam Tresola herself. For someone so tiny, she was an imposing figure. I fought the urge to flee.

“Pleeze, seet.” She gestured to the chairs across from her. We sat, and she nodded her approval. She reached across the table to Katie.

“Do you want my hand?” Katie asked.

“Pay first,” Madam Tresola ordered. Although her voice was low and gritty, it held power. Katie obeyed and handed her some bills.

“I paid for you, too,” she told me. “My treat.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, hand,” Madam Tresola barked. Katie held out her hand, palm up. Madam Tresola gripped it between both of hers, turning it over and back, then tracing the lines in Katie’s palm.

“You are strong gurl. You get vhat you vant. You marry handsome man. Raise strong cheeldren. Is good.” She patted Katie’s hand. “You have good life.”

“That’s it?” Katie asked.

“Vhat you vant? Eez good fortune!” Madam Tresola huffed out a breath, and then gestured impatiently for my hand. I held it out, and she wrapped it in her own. Her hands were surprisingly firm and warm. My hand tingled in her grip. I wondered if Katie felt the same thing. If so, she didn’t say anything. My entire hand pulsed as a strange energy flowed up my arm and across my chest. My ears filled with a loud pounding, and I tasted salt.

“Very unusual,” Madam Tresola murmured. “I not seen palm like yours een long time.” She traced the line that ran from the side of my hand down past my wrist. “You vill live long life, but not easy von.”

That didn’t sound promising.

“There is beeg change in your future…sadness.”

“My mom? Will she be okay?”

Madam Tresola’s eyes softened with sympathy. “I not see fortunes of others. Only you. Understand?”

I nodded. She angled my hand back and forth. Her face solemn. “I see joy, too. You are greatly loved.”

She touched a mark near my ring finger. It looked like a star. “Your destiny.” She looked at me expectantly. I waited for her to say more, but she released my hand. The absence of her touch was like a slap of cold.

“It vas a pleasure to meet you.” She stood and bowed to us. Katie, who was clearly bored and not impressed by Madam’s performance, now sported a French braid.

“Thanks,” she said as she left the tent.

I stood for a moment and looked at Madam Tresola. Was it my imagination, or did she seem like she wanted to tell me something else?

“Good luck, Meara.”

“Thanks? Uh…goodbye, Madam Tresola.”

Katie pounced on me as soon as I stepped out of the tent. “Wow, is she a crackpot or what?” I shrugged, so she continued. “I bet she tells everyone that mumbo jumbo.”

“I dunno—could be.” I thought about the feeling of energy that flowed from her. “What did you feel when she held your hand?”

“Wrinkles and bones. She’s so old.”

“Anything else?”

“No. Why?”

“Nothing.”

We found Evan and the rest of the group hanging out in the middle of the midway. It was getting late, so we said goodbye. Evan and Katie dropped me off at home, and I thanked them for taking me. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I never gave Madam Tresola my name.

T
hat night, I dreamed of David again, but instead of standing near the shore, we were by the lighthouse. He sat next to me on the cold, stone steps, our backs against the weathered, oak door. We didn’t talk above the thunderous waves breaking on the rocks. A light, salty spray misted my skin, and I tasted the brine on my lips. I was content to sit and listen. My ears pounded with the tidal beat, and I began to hear voices speaking in the rhythm—jump in, go now, come to us, we’re waiting.

Was I losing my mind? Panicked, I looked at David. He watched me carefully. “You hear them.” He nodded to the sea.

“Yes,” I said. Then, “Who are they?”

“They are us. We are them. You will meet them in time, but it’s best that you try to ignore them for now.” He reached for my hand. “They will grow more persistent.”

His hand felt warm and calloused, not uncomfortable, but certainly not welcomed. What kind of response was that? Irritated, I tried to pull my hand out of his. He squeezed mine once, and then released it. I waited for more explanation, but he was silent.

“That was cryptic,” I muttered. “What does it mean?”

“When you’re ready to know, I’ll tell you.” He raised his hand to brush some stray hairs off my forehead. I leaned back sharply, my agitation growing. What right did he have to talk to me in riddles, and then try to play the affectionate father? In pulling away, I noticed the angry red gash on his hand.

“What happened to you?” I asked, momentarily forgetting my anger and reaching for his hand. He pulled it out of my grasp and hid it at his side.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I was careless. That’s all.”

Was this man going to tell me anything of value? I let it go, for the time being, and switched topics. “Why are you here?” I asked instead.

“For you,” he said simply. “For your mom.”

“Does Mom know that you’re here?”

“Not yet,” he said, giving me a wry smile. “Though I imagine you’ll tell her.”

“Why would I do that? This is just a dream.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, but didn’t say anything. I was dreaming, right?

After a moment, he shrugged. “Whatever you say. You can tell your mom when you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere for the time being.” He offered his uninjured hand and, this time, I took it. He pulled me to my feet. “Walk with me?”

We walked along the shore, the voices softened to a murmur, the words indistinguishable. David pointed out various constellations in the sky and told me stories about them. I relaxed and listened to his rich, melodic voice. He was in the middle of a tale about Cassiopeia when I interrupted.

“Why did you leave?”

“I had to,” he said. Why wouldn’t he meet my eyes?

“That’s not a good enough reason,” I pushed, asking again. “Why?”

After more silence, he finally looked down at me. His eyes were sad and ancient. “It’s my nature, Meara. It’s who I am. I cannot stay here long.”

“What do you mean—your nature?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he said.

“Why not?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

I screamed in frustration. “Why do you even bother talking at all? Nothing you say means anything or makes sense.”

“It will,” he said. “I promise.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what that means.” I crossed my arms and glared at him. I wished the dream would end. I pinched my arm and tried to wake myself up. The pain shocked me.

David saw and laughed. I was about to tell him to get the heck out of my dreams when a barking commotion near the shore caught my attention. I turned from David to see three seals on the rocks. Two were small with reddish-brown fur, and one was large and light gray. They appeared to be playing. There were seals in Canada? I had only seen them at the zoo.

“Do you see that?” I whispered to David, not wanting to scare them. The seals weren’t too far away from us. David didn’t answer. I looked back to find him scowling at the seals.

“They are not supposed to be here,” he muttered.

“No doubt,” I agreed. “I didn’t know seals lived here.”

“They do,” he said. “In abundance, too.”

“Oh…cool.” It was dark and hard to see, so I took a step toward them to get a better look. David grabbed my arm and turned me to him. He kissed my forehead and said, “Sleep well, Meara.”

I woke to the sun beaming in my eyes. I felt great, and it actually took a few minutes before my dreams or vision, or whatever it was, came back to me. It wasn’t until I was standing in the bathroom and brushing my hair that I thought of my dad—um, David. In my dream, he seemed so fatherly, like he cared about me. It didn’t make sense. Where had he been all these years?

***

I found Grandpa Jamie alone in the kitchen, reading his paper at the table. He didn’t look up as I came into the room, opening the refrigerator to find a drink. He must have realized I was there, however, because when I sat across from him, he cracked the paper and wished me a good morning.

“Morning,” I said. “Where are Grandma Mary and Mom?”

“They’re in the garage,” he answered from behind his wall of newspaper. “I think they’re bartering on the rest of your things. What stays and what goes.”

“Where would it go?” I asked.

“Donated, I s’pose,” he said, unconcerned. “We certainly can’t keep it all here. I can barely walk through the house right now.”

I didn’t have plans for the day. Taking a long drag from my Diet Coke, I stood up. “I’m going out to help them.”

Grandpa Jamie peered at me over the top of the paper, raising one bushy, white eyebrow. “Suit yourself,” he said. “But I’m staying far away.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t live in the same house with those two women for nineteen years.” He shook his head and went back to reading his paper. I sat back down and watched him read. It was my first real opportunity to sit with him since the night we arrived. He worked long hours, leaving before sunrise and returning late at night. Though his skin was tan and weathered, smile lines softened his face. Today, he wore a pair of silver-rimmed reading glasses. At some point, they must have slipped to the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t bothered to push them back up.

“What are you doing today?” I asked.

He folded the paper, set it to the side, and took off his glasses. “Why? Aren’t you going outside now? Did I change your mind?” His eyes twinkled, so I knew he was teasing. I shrugged and he laughed, adding, “I’m going to the docks.”

“On your day off?” Didn’t he want a break?

“I’m a fisherman,” he explained. “I don’t get a day off. At any rate, the DFO was questioning my team yesterday, and we didn’t get a lot done.”

“DFO?”

“Department of Fisheries and Oceans…uh, I think maybe you call it the Department of Natural Resources?”

“Okay,” I said. “Why was the DFO questioning you?”

“Some drunken tourists were playing around near the boats late Thursday night. They managed to make a mess of the nets and traps. They also tormented some poor seal with a harpoon.”

“Is it okay?”

“Don’t know.” When I just looked at him, confused, he explained. “There was a lot of blood, but when we tried to get close to it, it dove into the water.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“No, but it’s not the first time,” he grumbled. “Damn tourists. Think they own the town. At least the DFO nailed them. Found ‘em passed out in their car a little ways down the beach. Stupid fools.”

“If the DFO found them, why did they talk to you?”

“They asked if we were going to press charges, too.”

“Will you?” I asked.

“No.” He rubbed his forehead. “Nothing was damaged beyond repair. Those boys will be in enough trouble without me adding to it.”

I liked my grandfather. He worked hard, and he was fair minded. “Can I come with you?” I asked. I realized I wanted to get to know him better.

He looked at me thoughtfully. “If you want to, you can. I’ll put you to work. Ask my team, I put anyone to work who has a pulse and is standing on my pier.” I thought of Evan, and my heart skipped. It was Saturday, so he might not be there, but I was betting he was. “You’ll want to change,” Grandpa Jamie continued. “Put on something you don’t mind getting dirty. And tennis shoes. No sandals.”

“When are we leaving?”

“Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?”

I grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and ran from the room, calling back, “You bet!”

I changed in about ten minutes, but Grandpa Jamie was already waiting in his pickup truck with the engine running when I came out. My mom and grandmother were standing in the front yard, our old vacuum between them. Mom turned and looked at me. Her hair was mussed from running her fingers through it, something she did when she was irritated. Grandma Mary was counting off on one hand all the reasons why our vacuum, which was clearly more modern that hers, was not worth keeping. Stupid as it sounded, Mom loved that vacuum. She spent months researching the perfect model to buy. Grandpa Jamie was right. It was time to get going.

I kissed my mom on the cheek. “Bye, Mom. I’m going to help Grandpa Jamie for a few hours today.”

“Dad?” my mom called, ignoring me for a moment. “Is it safe?”

“It’ll be fine, Sharon,” he called. “You worry too much.”

“Hmph.” Grandpa Jamie’s response did not help her irritation level. She managed a smile for me. “Have fun. Be safe.”

“I will.” I hugged her. She looked like she needed it. “See you later.”

I walked over and started climbing in the cab when mom called my name. “Yes?” I said, half turning.

“I want to hear about your new friends later,” she said. “I tried to stay up and wait for you, but I was just too tired.”

“We’ll talk tonight,” I said. Mom and I talked about everything. The few times I did go on dates, I always came home and talked to her about it. For some reason, I wanted to keep Evan to myself. I smiled at her in reassurance.

“I’ll hold you to it,” she teased and waved me off before turning back to Grandma Mary. I climbed in the truck, and we drove away.

***

It was a short drive. The buildings near the docks—they were more like shacks—stood crookedly, their weathered, gray wood sagging from Mother Nature’s brutal torment. In contrast, most of the boats gleamed in bright whites and brilliant primary colors, clearly the pride of their owners. Two or three boats were tethered to each pier, and a few appeared empty this Saturday morning. I didn’t know which boats belonged to Grandpa Jamie, so I followed him closely, quickening my pace to keep up with his long stride. He didn’t say anything to me as we walked, and I was about to ask him which was his when he stopped in front of the longest pier. It had two boats on the left side, one on the right, and one tied on the end.

Grandpa Jamie strode down the pier and stopped at the last boat. I pulled up right behind him, peering around his right side. He was broad enough that I didn’t feel safe standing next to him; the pier was narrow. There was one man kneeling on the deck of the boat, his back to us as he tore out a broken board. He wore a baseball cap on his head, his white t-shirt tucked in the back pocket of his cargo pants. His muscles rippled, and his skin glistened from the heat and the labor.

“What’s the status?” Grandpa Jamie demanded, and the man jerked. Clearly, he did not hear us approach. When he turned and stood, I swallowed in surprise. Evan.

Evan relaxed against the sideboard and smiled at me before addressing Grandpa Jamie. “Good morning to you, too. Thanks for the heart attack.”

“You’re young,” Grandpa Jamie grunted. “You’ll get over it.” He nodded at the boat. “How is she?”

“Damage is minimal.” Evan pointed to the board he was replacing, and three others he had clearly just nailed down. “This deck got the worst of it. I’m about ready to sand and paint.”

Grandpa Jamie pulled me forward. I think he meant to be gentle, but I almost tumbled into the boat. I caught myself just in time. He didn’t seem to notice. “That sounds like the perfect job for you,” he said. “Evan, can you show Meara what’s needed?”

Evan grinned. “Absolutely.”

Grandpa Jamie scratched his head, his eyes already scanning the other three boats and the rest of his team. As an afterthought, he asked, “You’ve met each other before, right?”