Omens
Page 18
I made it as far as the bed, dropped onto it, and sat there for at least an hour. I wanted to cry. Sob into the pillow and vent all the day’s frustration and loneliness. But I was too tired to manage it. Too empty.
I finally fell back onto a bedspread that stank of spilled beer and sex, and I didn’t care. I just lay there and tried not to think about how much I missed home and how upset I was with my mother and how badly I wanted to hear Dad tell me everything would be okay.
I thought of calling James. Just to let him know I was all right.
Instead I called my mother. I blocked my number as I did, telling myself that I had to because otherwise she’d use it to call me later. In truth, I blocked it because it gave me an excuse if she didn’t use it later.
No one answered the new cell number she’d given me. It didn’t even ring to voice mail, suggesting the number had been disconnected. So I phoned Howard. When I announced myself, there was a pause, as if he was wondering whether he could accidentally hang up. First thing I was doing when I got things under control again? Firing his ass.
“I’m trying to get in touch with Mum,” I said. “I want to let her know I’m okay.”
“You told her that this morning, Olivia.”
I gritted my teeth. “And I’d like to tell her again. More important, I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“She is. Her friends have come to her rescue.” There was a note of accusation in his voice, as if I’d abandoned her, and I was about to snap back and remind him who advised me to stay away, but he continued. “They’ve taken her to Europe for a few weeks.”
“What?”
“Your mother is taking this very hard, Olivia. She needs a break, and she deserves one. I will pass on messages, though I ask you to keep them to a minimum so as not to disturb her.”
Disturb her? She hadn’t just found out she was the daughter of serial killers.
“Olivia, your mother asked me to make sure you have everything you need.”
I need my mother.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Money, of course. I’ve been authorized to wire you ten thousand now and another ten thousand next . . .”
He kept talking. I didn’t hear him. I just sat there, staring into space, clutching the phone, feeling tears prickle the back of my eyes.
I don’t want money. I don’t need money. I need help. Support. A mother. My mother.
No, I needed my dad. I really, really needed my dad.
I told Howard the money could wait until I was settled. A lie. I would no more take it than I’d accept charity from a stranger on the street. That’s what it felt like.
“One more thing,” I said. “I hate to make you play messenger, but with every person I contact, there’s more chance of the media finding me . . .”
“Yes, there is. Who would you like me to call?”
“James. Tell him I’m fine.” I paused. “Tell him I’m fine and . . . tell him I’m sorry.”
I hung up before I said more. I sat there for a few minutes, fighting the overwhelming loneliness. Then I ate the sandwich I’d grabbed earlier and crawled into bed, still dressed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I didn’t want to take sleeping pills, but without the knockout dose, a dream came. Except it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a dream I’d had for as long as I could remember. My favorite one, so warm and familiar that if I woke up from it, I’d burrow back under my covers and try to find it again.
I was sitting in a garden, arranging polished white stones on a flat black rock. I’d make one design, then sweep it away and craft another. There was no feeling that I wasn’t pleased with the design and needed to try again. Each one was perfect. Each one had meaning.
Somewhere to my left, a woman laughed. A man responded, his voice low, teasing, and she laughed again. I didn’t look over. Just smiled and kept laying down rocks, each making a soft, satisfying click.
Tiny tropical birds flitted around me. Living jewels, sometimes landing on the rock, heads tilting as they chirped encouragement.
The heady scent of flowers filled the air. They were everywhere, in as many colors as the birds, rich reds and yellows and purples. Even the greenery was bright emerald, as lush as a rain forest.
Water burbled in front of me, a natural waterfall, tumbling into the rock pool below. As droplets sprayed my sun-bathed face, I licked them from my lips. Sweet, clean water. I’d take a drink in a moment, just as soon as I finished this last design.
I had to work harder at this one, dredging it up from memory. Three stones to the left, four to the . . . Or was it the other way around?
I sat back on my heels. A lock of hair fell over my shoulder and I pushed it back, my fingers brushing the lace. I reached down and adjusted my dress, really just an excuse to touch it. A beautiful, white dress with a long skirt that stretched down to tiny white sandals. My garden dress.
A bird flew past. A big, black one I hadn’t seen before. A raven. I rose and stared after it as it swooped into the shadowy darkness beyond the waterfall.
I started going after it. A soft cry sounded behind me, then footsteps.
“Eden!” a voice called.
I turned. A figure stepped from the bushes, smiling as he approached. His face was hidden by the glare of the sun on the water. When he got to me, he leaned down to stroke my hair.
“Stay here, sweetheart. You know you aren’t supposed to leave the garden.”
• • •
I bolted up so fast I tumbled out of bed, legs entwined in the covers. I hung there, hands braced against the carpet, disoriented and panting before I realized where I was and pushed myself back up.
I struggled not to hyperventilate as the dream played back.
Eden. Garden.
Oh God. My dream. My wonderful, beautiful dream. It wasn’t a dream at all, but my sleeping brain prodding me with the reminder of another life, another me.
I pressed my palms to my eyes and sat there, struggling not to cry. Of everything to cry over this? Foolish. And yet . . .
I swiped away the first threat of tears, then popped a sleeping pill, swallowed it dry, and lay back down. Sat up and popped another one. Sleep didn’t come quickly, but it did come.
• • •
I woke again in the dark, groggy now. I’d dreamed . . . No, I hadn’t been dreaming. Something else woke me. I lay there in the darkness and listened. Getting up and flicking on the light would be the smart move, but panic buzzed, deep in my skull, telling me to stay where I was.
I finally fell back onto a bedspread that stank of spilled beer and sex, and I didn’t care. I just lay there and tried not to think about how much I missed home and how upset I was with my mother and how badly I wanted to hear Dad tell me everything would be okay.
I thought of calling James. Just to let him know I was all right.
Instead I called my mother. I blocked my number as I did, telling myself that I had to because otherwise she’d use it to call me later. In truth, I blocked it because it gave me an excuse if she didn’t use it later.
No one answered the new cell number she’d given me. It didn’t even ring to voice mail, suggesting the number had been disconnected. So I phoned Howard. When I announced myself, there was a pause, as if he was wondering whether he could accidentally hang up. First thing I was doing when I got things under control again? Firing his ass.
“I’m trying to get in touch with Mum,” I said. “I want to let her know I’m okay.”
“You told her that this morning, Olivia.”
I gritted my teeth. “And I’d like to tell her again. More important, I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“She is. Her friends have come to her rescue.” There was a note of accusation in his voice, as if I’d abandoned her, and I was about to snap back and remind him who advised me to stay away, but he continued. “They’ve taken her to Europe for a few weeks.”
“What?”
“Your mother is taking this very hard, Olivia. She needs a break, and she deserves one. I will pass on messages, though I ask you to keep them to a minimum so as not to disturb her.”
Disturb her? She hadn’t just found out she was the daughter of serial killers.
“Olivia, your mother asked me to make sure you have everything you need.”
I need my mother.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Money, of course. I’ve been authorized to wire you ten thousand now and another ten thousand next . . .”
He kept talking. I didn’t hear him. I just sat there, staring into space, clutching the phone, feeling tears prickle the back of my eyes.
I don’t want money. I don’t need money. I need help. Support. A mother. My mother.
No, I needed my dad. I really, really needed my dad.
I told Howard the money could wait until I was settled. A lie. I would no more take it than I’d accept charity from a stranger on the street. That’s what it felt like.
“One more thing,” I said. “I hate to make you play messenger, but with every person I contact, there’s more chance of the media finding me . . .”
“Yes, there is. Who would you like me to call?”
“James. Tell him I’m fine.” I paused. “Tell him I’m fine and . . . tell him I’m sorry.”
I hung up before I said more. I sat there for a few minutes, fighting the overwhelming loneliness. Then I ate the sandwich I’d grabbed earlier and crawled into bed, still dressed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I didn’t want to take sleeping pills, but without the knockout dose, a dream came. Except it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a dream I’d had for as long as I could remember. My favorite one, so warm and familiar that if I woke up from it, I’d burrow back under my covers and try to find it again.
I was sitting in a garden, arranging polished white stones on a flat black rock. I’d make one design, then sweep it away and craft another. There was no feeling that I wasn’t pleased with the design and needed to try again. Each one was perfect. Each one had meaning.
Somewhere to my left, a woman laughed. A man responded, his voice low, teasing, and she laughed again. I didn’t look over. Just smiled and kept laying down rocks, each making a soft, satisfying click.
Tiny tropical birds flitted around me. Living jewels, sometimes landing on the rock, heads tilting as they chirped encouragement.
The heady scent of flowers filled the air. They were everywhere, in as many colors as the birds, rich reds and yellows and purples. Even the greenery was bright emerald, as lush as a rain forest.
Water burbled in front of me, a natural waterfall, tumbling into the rock pool below. As droplets sprayed my sun-bathed face, I licked them from my lips. Sweet, clean water. I’d take a drink in a moment, just as soon as I finished this last design.
I had to work harder at this one, dredging it up from memory. Three stones to the left, four to the . . . Or was it the other way around?
I sat back on my heels. A lock of hair fell over my shoulder and I pushed it back, my fingers brushing the lace. I reached down and adjusted my dress, really just an excuse to touch it. A beautiful, white dress with a long skirt that stretched down to tiny white sandals. My garden dress.
A bird flew past. A big, black one I hadn’t seen before. A raven. I rose and stared after it as it swooped into the shadowy darkness beyond the waterfall.
I started going after it. A soft cry sounded behind me, then footsteps.
“Eden!” a voice called.
I turned. A figure stepped from the bushes, smiling as he approached. His face was hidden by the glare of the sun on the water. When he got to me, he leaned down to stroke my hair.
“Stay here, sweetheart. You know you aren’t supposed to leave the garden.”
• • •
I bolted up so fast I tumbled out of bed, legs entwined in the covers. I hung there, hands braced against the carpet, disoriented and panting before I realized where I was and pushed myself back up.
I struggled not to hyperventilate as the dream played back.
Eden. Garden.
Oh God. My dream. My wonderful, beautiful dream. It wasn’t a dream at all, but my sleeping brain prodding me with the reminder of another life, another me.
I pressed my palms to my eyes and sat there, struggling not to cry. Of everything to cry over this? Foolish. And yet . . .
I swiped away the first threat of tears, then popped a sleeping pill, swallowed it dry, and lay back down. Sat up and popped another one. Sleep didn’t come quickly, but it did come.
• • •
I woke again in the dark, groggy now. I’d dreamed . . . No, I hadn’t been dreaming. Something else woke me. I lay there in the darkness and listened. Getting up and flicking on the light would be the smart move, but panic buzzed, deep in my skull, telling me to stay where I was.
