Resilient (17 page)

Sister Angelina found me, an infant, dropped off at the convent door like a package for delivery. I was only a day or two old, with a note instructing her to contact the Berwick couple, their address and phone numbers provided. I know all this—but now I wonder what made her contact my parents and not the police. 

She was the only one that knew about me. She decided that it was best to keep my situation private, I suppose, and she helped my parents create a story to make my adoption legal. If they would have done it the conventional way, they probably would have been unable to keep me. I wonder if Angelina prayed for guidance—and what guidance she received; something persuasive enough to make a nun tell a lie.

Yet she was trying to help my father find my birth parents. The more I consider it, the harder it is to imagine what the whole story could be. That message she left on our answering machine could only have meant that she found answers, but now I’ll never know what they were.

Five minutes to nine, I say a prayer for Sister Angelina and get up from the bench to leave. I am about to step out of the church when I hear a familiar voice calling me.

“Livia? Wait!” 

I freeze. Oh no. This isn’t good. I got caught, and by the worse person possible. 

“Annette?” She plows into me and I give her a big hug, laughing nervously. “What a coincidence!”

“I didn’t know you were in New York, Livia,” she gushes. “Did you come with your parents? I thought they were in Canada with your grandmother.” 

“Uh, maybe we should talk outside,” I say, giving her a flat smile.

“It’s raining outside. Let’s go in the restroom.” 

In the privacy of the church bathroom, I tell her what I’m doing here. I can feel that she is disappointed in me, but at the same time she feels sorry for me. “I understand why you came,” she says, “but you should have talked to your parents about this.” She frowns. “It’s not like you to be so irresponsible.” 

I drop my gaze to the floor in embarrassment. She’s right; it’s not like me to lie to my parents. 

Annette sighs before she says, “Sister Angelina contacted your Uncle Henry before she died. He knows what she wanted to tell your parents. At this point, your parents already know what you came all the way here for.” 

I’m confused—if my mom already knew, why didn’t she say anything? I can’t empathize with someone over the phone, so I couldn’t tell that Mom was hiding something from me. “But why didn’t she just tell me?” 

“Because it could be something that she wants to talk to you about in person.” Annette’s irritation with me is clear in her voice. “She was dealing with other problems, Livia, and maybe she thought it would be best to wait until she was home.”

I’m nodding my head before she is finished. “Annette, I am sorry. You’re right. I promise I’m going back home right now, but, please, can you keep this just between us?” 

“I know you,” she says, “and I know you won’t do something like this again, so I’ll do as you ask. But I want you to call me as soon as you get home.” 

“Thank you so much. Just so you know, I really have missed you!” I give her another hug and she hugs me back. She is now caught in a situation that she wishes she wasn’t a part of, and I wish I couldn’t know that. She’s not happy about keeping this from my parents. “I’ll call as soon as I get home,” I reassure her, leaving the restroom and walking out of the church before she can change her mind.

I get in a cab and give the driver directions to take me to my old building. I need to see Alyssa. I have until one p.m. before I need to head back to the airport, and I’m in New York, so I might as well. Besides, I am starving and I would love it if she could go get lunch with me.

I get to the building and George, the doorkeeper lets me in. “Hi, Ms. Berwick. I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Missing New York already?”

“Not really,” I say, smiling at him. George has worked here since I was a little kid, and I’ve always told him to call me by my first name, but he never does. “I’m here to see Alyssa. Is she home?” 

“She must be. I haven’t seen her leave this morning.” 

“Okay, I’m heading up there. See you later, George.” I wave goodbye as I open the elevator door. 

I know her parents are out by now, so I ring the doorbell a couple of times, just to be annoying. The door opens but is snagged by the chain, and I see a pair of familiar, dark brown eyes peeking out at me—and then John opens it wide. His face lights up. 

“What are you doing here, Livia?” He pulls me into a tight hug, draping his happiness on me like a blanket, and a sense of comfort grows between us. It’s good to be in friendly arms.

“You miss me that much already?” I joke. “I only left a week ago.”

“Uh, yeah, come on in!” He says, finally letting go of me, and then shouts, “Ally, someone is here for you! She is going to be so excited to see you, Livia. But what are doing here?”

“Yeah, about that—” I let myself fall onto their couch. It’s just as fluffy as I remember. It’s as good as being home. “Long story.”

“Oh my God, Livia!” Alyssa says. I immediately feel her excitement. “I am so happy to see you!” She jumps on the couch and practically tackles me. “You didn’t tell me you were coming!” 

“Well, it’s not like you answer your phone,” I complain.

“I know. Sorry, I was going to call back but I got caught up with something else, and then it was too late.” She starts playing with a lock of her blond hair. She always does that when she is wound up. It’s kind of cute, really—reminds me of when we were little kids.

Since they know the story surrounding my adoption, I tell them about Sister Angelina’s message, my encounter with Annette, and everything in between. When I’m done with the whole story, Alyssa gets off the couch and starts pacing. 

“There is something off here, Livia.” Concern fills her eyes. “The nun I told you about was here yesterday morning. If Sister Angelina died on Tuesday, it had to be a different person, but when she introduced herself, she said her name was Angelina—wow, that gives me the creeps.” As soon as Alyssa says this, my whole body gets covered in goosebumps, like her unease is seeking me out. I hate when that happens. 

“Alyssa, are you sure this was yesterday morning and not Tuesday morning?” I ask. She gives me a look.

“Of course I am. But here’s the thing, the nun that was here had to be a different person, because if Sister Angelina was the one that handled your adoption, she has to be older, right?”

“She was in her late fifties or so.”

“Yeah, and the nun I saw was in her early twenties, if that. Really pretty lady, actually.” Alyssa flops back down next to me.

“That is kind of strange,” John says. “Maybe she was a nun from the same convent trying to give the news of Angelina’s death to your parents. There could be another nun with the same name.”

“I can call the convent and ask, but you know what?” I smile at them both. “Let’s go get lunch. I don’t have much time left and I want to enjoy both of you while I can.” 

I know I won’t see them for a while after today, and I don’t want to spend our last two hours talking about my problems. 

*                            *                              *

As it turned out, John couldn’t go—he headed off to NYU to meet with his advisor, and Alyssa and I found a table in our favorite sandwich spot. A Greek family owned hole-in-the-wall café, and their sandwiches are perfect. 

“So, Livia,” she begins, “tell me everything. How is the town? Have you met anyone yet?” 

At that very moment, my phone rings—Adam. I turn the phone so she can see his picture. As I expected, her mouth drops open. 

“Oh my gosh! You got yourself a boyfriend already?” 

I ignore the call. “I‘ll call him back later. We just started hanging out. It’s nothing serious yet.” 

She wags her finger at me. “No, you don’t. Tell me everything.” 

I surrender and go over the details of almost everything that has happened in the past since I left. I just don’t mention my accident. “So are you, like, falling for him?” Alyssa asks. I stop for a moment. I haven’t really stopped to try analyzing my feelings for Adam until now. I’ve never felt like this about someone before, but I have never remotely been involved with anyone my entire life. To say I’m falling in love might be premature. But the way I feel when I’m around him is definitely more than just a crush. It’s more than I am willing to admit, for now.

“I love being with him, and the way he makes me feel. But I’m not in love. Not yet, anyway.” 

Alyssa smiles at me. “You, my friend, are so good at lying to yourself.” She leans back in her seat. “Your eyes shine when you’re talking about him.” 

“Oh, whatever, Ally! Enough about me. Are you exited for school next week?

*                            *                              *

Alyssa drops me off at the airport after lunch, promising me that she will visit me soon. I call Adam when I reach the gate.

He answers the phone with concern in his voice. “Hey! Are you okay?” 

“Everything is fine. I’m getting a flight home right now.”

“What time do you land?”

“I’ll be landing at four, your time. But you don’t have to pick me up. I don’t mind getting a taxi or a shuttle.”

“Are you kidding? I’ll be there.”

I smile unconsciously at the thought of seeing him again. “Thanks, Adam.” 

*                            *                              *

I sit myself all the way in the back of the airplane, just in case it’s a crowded flight. People usually avoid sitting right next to the restroom. 

I ask the flight attendant for a pillow—I am so tired, I’m sure I’ll sleep the entire flight home. But just when I’m about to close my eyes, my body stiffens and I feel something I’ve never felt before. Someone on the plane is empty of emotion, completely hollow.

I look around, becoming increasingly desperate to identify the source, but, slowly, the sensation starts to disappear. He or she is covering up the void with a veil of fake emotions. It’s hard for me to pinpoint the general location, let alone the exact seat. After a minute, I can’t even feel it anymore. I immediately think of Mrs. Johnson—it’s a shield just like hers, but I don’t see anyone familiar here. 

I try to relax, but my efforts are worthless now. I keep looking around, afraid to feel that way again. It’s a dark place to be. I’ve always wondered what would it be like to be around someone with such an cold emptiness inside of them, like a psychopath or a serial killer, but I’ve never had that type of encounter before, not even in busy New York City. I’ve always secluded myself so I didn’t have to endure people’s everyday emotions—let alone something like this, something more horrid.

I skip the last period of school so I can pick up Livia at the airport. After I dropped her off last night, I haven’t been able to stop thinking of reasons that would explain her trip to New York. What could have been so urgent that she’d miss the second day of school? To talk to someone in person, that’s what she told me, but I don’t buy it; I don’t think that she lied, but there’s something she isn’t telling me. The past couple of days, I’ve noticed that there is much more to her than she lets me see. That girl has some secrets.

And I have secrets, too. If she knew the things I can do, what I am, she would think I’m a freak. Only Kyle knows, and he thinks it’s cool—but that’s why he’s my best friend. I’ve never really given much thought to why these abilities developed. I’ve always been too afraid to think about it, and I’ve always known I had to hide them, because keeping them a secret would keep me safe. But with new abilities surfacing more often, I’ve been wondering why. How about my brothers and sister—will they develop talents that they’re afraid to talk about, too? Have they already? What if they never will? I could be a freak even to my own family.

My family—Stevens immediately comes to mind. I don’t know how he could possibly know about my abilities, unless of course I am his son and not my parents’. This thought keeps coming into my head a lot lately and I keep shoving it out of my mind. But that’s what he implied that day in the hospital when I overhead him and my dad talking. I’m so confused and stressed that my headaches are getting stronger. I can’t decide if I should look for the man or keep my distance. If I go looking for him, I might learn something that I don’t really want to know, but if I don’t, I could miss the chance to know the truth—and the more I think about it, the more my head hurts.

There’s no traffic when I hit the I-5, which is great because I’m running a little late. It’s fifteen minutes past four when I get to the airport, and I drive straight to Arrivals. Livia is standing outside. The sight of her makes my heart surge and the smile on her face washes my worries away. 

I park the Jeep on the curbside and I get out to help Livia with her bag. At the back of the truck, she puts her arms around my neck and pulls me into a heated kiss. When she pulls away I feel lightheaded. “Hello to you, too,” I say and she kisses me again. I put her bag in the trunk and she walks around the Jeep toward the passenger side, but as she steps onto the narrow curb, she bumps into a man and freezes in place.

“Watch where you’re going!” he snaps. I look over the Jeep from him to Livia, who is still frozen, gaping at the guy, whose anger is growing stronger. “What the hell are you looking at?” he shouts. 

I run to place myself between them as fast as I can. The stranger blinks a couple times when he realizes I’m the one facing him and not Livia. Before he’s able to say anything more, I give him one look and that’s all that takes to dissolve his anger to nothing. He shakes his head, confused, and I watch as he stumbles away without looking back.

“What was that?” Livia asks and I turn to face her.

“You tell me! Do you know that guy?”

“I’ve never seen him before in my life, and I now wish I never had.”

I sit in the passenger seat, still in shock, still trying to regain control over myself. “That man has serious anger issues,” I say, “and if he hasn’t seriously hurt someone yet, he’s about to.”