Echo, p.18
Echo, page 18
part #1 of The Elan Series
I poured a cup of coffee and walked out onto the patio, cell phone in hand. The June heat was just plain rude, and it was only nine-thirty. Somewhere nearby a car engine revved and the tires squealed in a quick getaway. Why anyone would be making that much racket so early on a Monday was beyond me.
I tried to figure out how to unlock Tara’s phone, but it had a password; and she probably would have ripped me a new one if she caught me going through her personal info. I carried the phone back inside, putting it where I found it, and heard the bathroom door open.
“Hey, baby,” she said appearing at the end of the hall. “You made coffee?” She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a peck on the lips before pouring a cup. “What are we doing today?” she said sitting on the couch and flipping on the news channel.
“I’ve got to run over to Jesse’s to shower and change,” I said, “but when I come back we could go to that nature walk outside of town or I think there’s some art and music thing going on at The Park.” I tried not to sway her choice but I really didn’t feel like going to look at art. Still, I figured with her being a UT grad, she might be into that.
“The nature walk sounds relaxing,” she said. “We could tour the bat cave and take a picnic lunch.”
“Great,” I said carrying my mug back to the kitchen. “I’ll run on over to Jesse’s and be back in about an hour.”
“We can stop by Gary’s Subs and get some sandwiches to take.” She followed me to the door and downstairs saying she had to get a bag from her car that she’d forgotten yesterday. As we neared her Honda, she slowed, tilting her head in confusion.
“How’d this get here?” She lifted a black sweater-thingy that hung from her driver’s side mirror.
“Is it yours?” I asked glancing around the parking lot.
“I think so,” she said checking the tag. “I think I wore this the night we met at the Kappa party. But I don’t remember leaving it there.” She raised it up in front of her stretching it out to get a good look at it. “What’s that?” she asked showing me a pale stain along the bottom edge of the sweater. “It looks wet.”
“Oh, God, Tara,” I said snatching the thing from her hands and flinging it to the ground. “I think it’s, uh, it’s, you know…” I waved my hand back and forth a few times in front of my crotch.
“Eeewww,” she squealed, shaking her hands in front of her and hopping from one foot to the other. “That’s disgusting. Who would do something like that?”
“Some sick perv,” I said picking the sweater up by the tag. “Look, I’m gonna run to Jesse’s and I’ll be back in like thirty minutes.” I steered her toward the steps and dropped the sweater in a trash can under the stairs. “I want you to go back upstairs, wash up, and wait for me. This is probably just some stupid prank, or somebody got lucky down here last night and threw this out their window. It’s probably not even yours.”
The anxiety that had been swirling around us lessened and she nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I think mine is more faded.” Her voice evened out as she tried to convince herself.
I gave her a nudge at the stairs, turning toward my car only when she was on the second landing. “I’ll be back soon.” I watched from the stairwell as she shut her apartment door, then I pulled the sweater out of the garbage careful not to get that gross shit on me. I shoved it in a bag in my trunk, deciding to swing by Di’s shop to get some answers.
The smell of patchouli along with cool air conditioning met me at the door as I stooped to clear the low entryway. The shop was empty of customers and Dianne was perched on a stool behind the counter.
“DJ,” she said rounding the glass case that held handcrafted jewelry and crystal sets. “What’re you doing here?” She hugged me, stiffening at our release.
“I need you to read something for me,” I said, holding out the bag. “But be careful. It’s wet.”
She took the bag and set it on the counter, peeking into it. “Wet? From what?” She pinched the sweater’s tag between her thumb and forefinger, lifting it from the sack.
“Beats me, but I think it might be, you know—” I curled my lip in disgust—“some dude’s leftovers.”
“Oh,” she said, dropping the fabric on the plastic bag. “And you want me to touch this to read it? Is it that important?”
“I think someone is harassing Tara,” I said. “So, yeah, it’s important. I want to know if you can get anything from this. Maybe something about the person who did this?” I waved my hand at the sweater.
“Are you sure it’s Tara’s?” she asked, studying the pile of cloth, looking for the best place to pick it up.
“I think so. Here.” I offered her the edge of my shirt. “I just left her. Her vibration should still be on me.” She gripped my shirt’s hem and closed her eyes. It took just seconds for her to read my shirt, then opening her eyes, she touched a clean spot on the sweater.
“Yep. It’s hers.” She said the second her fingers landed on the fabric. Her eyebrows creased and she looked up at me, her gray eyes a shade lighter. “Whoever had this last, though, is mighty pissed. But this vibration is confusing. The person didn’t start out mad; he was afraid first. His fear grew into frustrated anger.” Di lifted her fingers from the sweater, careful not to touch anything. “You’re smart to be worried, DJ. This guy is bordering on psychotic. You need to be very careful.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” I let out a slow breath and pulled the bag closed over the sweater. “Thanks, Di.”
“You don’t think it was those guys you tagged a few weeks back, do you?” She ducked behind the counter and came up with a container of wet wipes. She tugged one free of the box and offered it to me. I wiped my hands with the cloth and tossed it in the trash.
“That’s exactly who I think it is.” I snatched the bag from the counter. “I’ve got to run to Jesse’s to get some clothes before heading back over to Tara’s. I’ll talk to you later, Sis.”
“DJ, what about…” she called after me as I exited the shop. As I climbed behind the wheel, the idea that one of the Lambdas was stalking Tara had the hairs on my neck prickling.
Charm, n. – a spell created for a specific purpose
to be used for a specific amount of time
Chapter 15 – Tara
Derek and I spent the two days we had together doing things around Knoxville. He drove us to Ijams Nature Preserve on Monday where we picnicked and walked the trails. On Tuesday we stayed at my place, swimming, watching movies, and making out on the couch. If what Derek said was true, this spiritual link we shared heightened our emotions to the point that I was ready to risk pregnancy to feel his naked body against mine.
Tuesday night neither of us wanted him to leave, but we both had to work the rest of the week. We stood in front of his car with the moon peeking above the landscaped elms of my apartment complex.
“So, you’ll call me?” I asked, my insecurity from last week making an encore appearance.
“Of course, Sugar.” His arms tightened around my waist as he pulled me up for one more kiss. The taste of alcohol on his lips, along with the vibration his hand created where ever he touched me, was intoxicating. “But I can’t come over this weekend,” he said when he released me. “I’ve got to rehaul the stockcar’s engine that dumbass blew up Saturday.” His body tightened in irritation and my mood soured a little.
“I think you’re projecting, baby.” I leaned backed and gave him room to mellow. The atmosphere around us softened and my mood lifted again. “That’s fine,” I said, picking up on our previous conversation. “I’m going to Nashville to see my parents anyhow.” I unwrapped his arms from around my waist. “But you can call me this weekend.”
“I will. I promise.” He gripped my hand for a moment longer before pulling away to open his car door. Folding himself behind the wheel, he waved me back toward the stairs.
I sighed, exasperated at his over protectiveness, but I still walked up the steps to my third floor apartment without complaint. I couldn’t see his car pull away, but when I opened my door, I heard the engine rev as he peeled onto Lexington Avenue.
After such an indulgent weekend, being back at work the next morning with four-year-olds demanding my attention was hard. I was glad when Friday came. Nashville would be a relaxing break from teaching, but I knew that I’d miss Derek. And I was a little apprehensive about seeing Aaron.
*****
The Thomases’ dance studio was decorated in gold and ivory for Mimi and Pop-pop’s party. Mom had made a collage for them out of pictures from different family events all the way back to when they had started dating. Mimi was sixteen and Pop-pop nineteen. They looked so young in those pictures; it was hard to believe they were my grandparents.
Aaron cornered me shortly after I arrived, as if he had been waiting for me the whole time. I had just stepped into the building and hadn’t even spoken to Mimi and Pop-pop before he tugged me into one of the dimly lit practice rooms. His lips found mine, surprising me with their urgency, as his arms pulled me against him.
At first, I didn’t fight him off; instead my lips parted voluntarily allowing his tongue to flirt along the edges of my teeth. The smell of his cologne, the cool stiffness of his dress shirt, the strong grip around my waist all lulled me into a sense of longing that didn’t register right away as betrayal.
As his hands glided up my back to draw me closer, an image of Derek interrupted my submission. And my chest tightened. What was I doing?
“Aaron, you’ve got to stop doing that,” I protested pushing against his chest. “I have a boyfriend.” I backed away, dropping my gaze to the floor, putting some distance between us. It was hard, though; like the moon draws water, his charm enticed me.
“You two are still together?” Doubt laced his question. His hands reached for mine, but I clasped them together behind my back.
“Yes,” I said, picturing the last night I’d spent with Derek. My face warmed at the shame and guilt I felt over what had just happened. “I thought you said you’d be considerate of that?”
He exhaled, long and loud, his frustration obvious. “I know I did. It’s just that every time I see you, I just, I don’t know. I just want to touch you, be with you. I can’t help myself.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, searching for a reason. The light filtering through the blinds cast a silvery outline on his silhouette.
“I get that,” I said, running my hands down the front of my dress. “Still, I have a boyfriend and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t ambush me every time we see each other.”
“Fine.” He grumbled as he slung open the studio door and exited. I was left struggling with my own feelings of confusion over what had just happened.
When I entered the main studio, I had the weird feeling that everyone was staring at me. Of course, no one was, but guilt burned in my chest. I might as well have been wearing a scarlet A.
“Are you okay?” Hannah’s hand rested on my arm, causing me to jump.
“Yeah, I, uh,” I stuttered, unable to tell her what had just happened.
“I know,” she said. “Aaron’s thoughts keep going between apologizing to you and telling you what a tease you are.”
I choked back a sarcastic laugh as my eyes watered.
“Hey, Sis,” Hannah said, guiding me around the corner away from the crowd. “He’s really just pissed that you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you.”
“I know,” I said, dabbing at the tears threatening to spill. “And for a split second, I did feel that way about him. What is wrong with me?”
Hannah’s face darkened, then seeing my pain her features softened and she hugged me to her. “Nothing’s wrong with you. Aaron’s a great guy who’s got it bad for you, and any other time, you’d be totally into him. But this connection you have with Derek, it’s stronger than you realize.”
“How do you know all this?” I asked, surprised that just a few weeks ago this woman in front of me was my self-centered little sister.
Hannah’s brow crinkled as I realized my mistake. “Yeah, well, I’ve grown up a lot in the last couple of months.”
“I’m sorry, Hannah,” I mumbled. “I didn’t mean…”
“I know,” she said, pressing her lips together and crossing her arms. She finally rolled her eyes and smiled. “I know I was such a brat not so long ago, but like I said, I’ve grown up.”
“You sure have.” I rubbed her upper arm before pulling her into an embrace. “I’m really glad I have you to talk to now.” I squeezed her tight before releasing her. She stepped back as the door to the main ballroom swung open.
“There you two are,” Dad said, kissing me on the temple. “Mimi and Pop-pop are asking if you made it in yet.” He wrapped an arm around each of our waists and escorted us back into the studio.
Hannah met Drew and Aaron at the bar. She was drawn into their intense but humorous conversation, judging from the laughter that escaped their group every few seconds.
I found Mimi sitting with Aunt Susanna near the buffet table and joined them. “Happy anniversary, Mimi,” I said, kissing her on the cheek.
“Sweetpea!” Mimi patted my face then the chair beside her. “There’s my girl all the way from college.”
“Knoxville’s only two hours away, Mimi.” I sat and leaned over to hug Aunt Susanna.
“School going good, Tara Grace?” Aunt Susanna asked.
“I graduated in May.” I smiled at Mom’s younger sister who had flown in from California for their parents’ party.
“That’s right. Hannah’s still in college.” She smiled at her mistake and glanced across the room. “Oh, your uncle Cal is waving for me.” She rose and left us sitting there watching her retreat.
“So, you got yourself a boyfriend,” Mimi whispered tilting toward me conspiratorially.
“Hannah told you?”
“No, I saw it.”
“Mimi.” I stiffened, my shoulders straightening at her pronouncement. “What do you mean you saw it?” How would my grandmother have seen me with Derek, especially since he had never visited Franklin with me?
Her eyes sparkled as she leaned even closer. “You know what I mean, Sweetpea.”
A slow smile played at the corners of my mouth all the while a knot untied in my stomach. Ever since Hannah and I had that shared dream about our great-grandmother, I’d wanted to talk to talk to Mimi. Surely she would be able to tell me what it meant.
“Mimi, what are you saying?” I raised my eyebrows in question watching her spindly finger touch her bottom lip before answering.
“Well,” she drew out, “it doesn’t take a mind reader to know what’s going on, Sweetpea.” Her eyes captured my gaze again. “It’s obvious---that young man cares about you.” She raised her hand to wave Elizabethan-like to Hannah, Drew, and Aaron.
I sighed as her words settled on me. “Aaron’s not my boyfriend, Mimi.”
“Oh?” she questioned. “Well, that’s a good thing because your sister’s the one who’s supposed to be with him.”
“What?” I glanced between the three again, confused. “What makes you say that, Mimi?”
“Well, just look at them.” She motioned toward the bar where they stood. “It’s as plain as an Amish tablecloth. Can’t you see it?”
“See what Mom?” Aunt Susanna had returned without notice.
“Just my buttercup Hannah, over there, drawing those boys to her like bees to nectar.” We all looked at the trio who had now been joined by Pop-pop and Daddy.
“Both of Jill’s girls are beauties, Mom.” Susanna smiled at me. “No wonder those two guys can’t make up their minds about which sister to chase.”
As if to prove her right, Aaron ambled around the dance floor to stop in front of us. I glanced up at him, my guilt and anger fluttering in my stomach.
“Can I talk to you?” He stretched his hand out to me, waiting, before finally shoving it into his pants pocket.
I sighed, glancing at Hannah, before rising from my chair and following Aaron to the dance floor.
“Before you run off, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” He held out one hand for me to take, waiting for me to close the position.
I hesitated then stepped toward him as he pulled me into his embrace. My body stiffened at our proximity, but relaxed as he led me around the studio.
“Tara, I don’t know why I feel the way I do about you,” he said leaning close to my ear, “especially since you’ve made it clear that you have a boyfriend.”
I stiffened again, but he hurried on in his explanation.
“But I do.” Aaron’s arm tightened around my waist as if to keep me from fleeing. “It’s like the way I feel when I know I’ve captured a perfect scene, with just the right lighting and angles. A sense of completeness.”
“Aaron,” I said tilting my head to look up at him, “I, I don’t feel that way about you. I think you’re sweet, and a great dancer, and well, sexy as hell. But I’m in love Derek. I’m with him and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
The song faded out and other couples left the dance floor. We stood next to the wood railing, each waiting for the other to speak.
Finally, Aaron broke the silence. “I know you’re with him now. And I guess I’m hoping that it won’t last, but I would rather have you as a friend than pissed at me, never speaking to me again.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my palm, his truce signal. “Can I drive you home later?” My breath caught in my throat, but he interrupted my argument before I could protest. “I promise nothing will happen.” He lifted a three-finger salute, a smile stretching across his sweat-glistened face. “Besides,” he added, “Drew and Hannah will be with us.”
My scowl softened at his earnest attempt to ease my skepticism, and I folded. “Fine.” I withdrew my hand and turned toward the tables that lined the walls of the room. Hannah and Drew were perched on two tall bar stools at a bistro table so I made my way over. “How long do you plan on staying?” I lifted Hannah’s water and took a sip. “I wanted to get ready for next weekend,” I said, sliding my charm back and forth along the chain.
