Heavenly (9 page)

"Both, I guess."

"Good answer, Zoe, because both are possible. It's just that some people's beliefs are born of spiritual roots, while

others are born of scientific. Do you have a preference?"

"I just want to know if you think they exist."

"I'd like to think they exist. In fact, my roots come from an experience I once had when I was seven years old. My

great aunt passed away. We went to her funeral and I saw her, lying in the coffin. It was the first time I'd ever seen somebody dead before. Creeped me out."

"Yeah." I nodded. "I bet."

"That night, as I lay in the motel room, I think it was a Motel Six, not a Best Western, because the towels were pretty

soft. She was there, standing by the bed, looking at me. She didn't speak. She just watched. I felt..." he glanced around, leaned closer and in a lowered voice said, "I felt calm. Peaceful. I wasn't scared even though I knew she had died and was... a ghost."

I swallowed. "Wow."

"But I don't like calling her a ghost. In fact, I never did. But she didn't look like us. There was a transparency to her body and clothes. Faded colors. And she wasn't wearing what she'd been buried in, either."

"What did she have on?"

"In the coffin?"

"No, when you saw her."

"She dressed like a gypsy most of the time. When I saw her, she had on a gauzy dress in soft yellow, and she was

barefoot."

I nodded, processing the information. No barriers went up. No red flags or whisperings came, challenging his words. I

accepted what he told me as truth.

He sat back, staring at me. "You think I'm nuts, don't you?"

"No." I reached out, touched his knee and his eyes locked on my hand. I withdrew. "That's why I asked you. I knew you'd have an intelligent opinion on the subject."

"You...did? Really?"

I nodded.

"I haven't told anybody about that," he said. "Except my family. They thought I was hallucinating. They thought that I had food poisoning from the funeral potatoes served at the family dinner the neighbors put on for us."

"That's lame," I said. "I definitely don't think you were hallucinating." I debated telling him about Matthias. But since I still wasn't sure who Matthias was, I decided against it.

"So have you had any... sightings?" He pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"No. Kinda. Maybe."

"Tell me about it."

"I can't... yet."

He nodded. The sober expression on his face told me he believed. My shoulders felt a little lighter.

'When you're ready," he whispered. Then he pulled out his cell phone. Can... I have your number? You know, just in case we want to talk about this again?"

"Um." His hand, holding the phone, trembled. I fought a chuckle. "Sure." I gave him my number.

"Do... you... want mine?" he sputtered.

"Oh. Sure."

I entered his name and at his insistence, his email addy into my cell phone. I felt connected to him now, in a

mysterious way. It'd be nice having someone understand what I was going through, even if he didn't have the same puzzle

piece I did: a handicapped sister.

I noticed our little pow-wow had caught the eye of a few of our classmates, and I stood. '"Thanks, Chase."

"Yeah. No prob. Be in touch." Chase tipped back in his chair again and I returned to my desk.

- - -

After school, I went to Mr. Brinkerhoffś room feeling like I could ace anything.

I took the test, popped out the essay and was done in less than forty minutes. Mr. Brinkerhoff smiled when I handed

him the papers. "Beat your last record, Zoe."

"You keep track?"

"I've never had student plow through work like you do. You're one of my quieter students, but, like Brittany, you're

also very popular. There's irony in the fact that you're a stellar student and you're socially acceptable."

More of Mr. Brinkerhoffś irony. I grinned.

I left the building and checked my phone for texts. None. My good mood popped.

If Britt was waiting for me to apologize first, it'd be a long wait. As I walked to my car, greeting faces as I passed, I

realized I was right: she had Weston. The hole I'd left behind in her life was in
his
shadow.

But I had Chase now.

I got in my car, started the engine. I didn't really
have
Chase, not like Britt had Weston. But he was someone I could talk to. Mr. Brinkerhoff noticing I was on Britt's social level amused me. How many other teachers had taken the time to

deduce the same?

Britt and I had been friends since 9th grade—four years now. Sure, her face and body had opened a lot of social doors,

but I had friends of my own. Doors opened for me because I told them to open.

Then it hit me like a lead ball to my chest.

Who were my friends?

The last four years of my social life flashed before my eyes, dwindling with every year. The diminishment had

nothing to do with Britt or our tight relationship; rather the spiral into social exclusivity my life had taken after Abria was diagnosed. Ashamed, embarrassed about Abria, I'd weeded out friends I knew would raise their eyebrows at her. That had left

a few acquaintances—like Chase—who didn't know Abria existed. And Britt.

No wonder I felt alone.

My spirits crashed. To my horror, tears rushed behind my eyes. I blinked them back. I needed to do something fun.

Party, get my mind off my skeletal social existence. Normally, Britt and I hung on week nights when we had the time. I

doubted she had me in mind for that evening. If I wanted to see her, I'd have to suck it up and apologize.

A flash of desperation struck me. I texted her, my heart thumping.

i was out of it earlier, sorry

I drove with my gaze volleying between the road and the phone. Minutes ticked by. Five. Seven. Would Britt dump

me that easily?

I was home, pulling up next to the curb when ten minutes had passed without an answer. Britt's normal return time

was under ten seconds.

Her past boyfriends had never gotten in the way of our friendship. Like accessories, she'd worn them until she was

bored and then tossed them. Clearly, her pattern was changing. If she was willing to neglect me because of Weston, that was

not something I had to take.

Frustrated, I stormed into the house and slammed the door. No one was home. Mom worked at the real estate office until five

most days and Dad got home around the same time. It was my job to be here when Abria's bus came. I made sure she had a

snack and watched her until Mom and Dad got home. When he was around, Luke shared in the responsibility. I had a few

minutes before Abria's bus pulled up. A few minutes to calm down, figure out why Britt was ignoring me and indulge in

plenty of self pity.

I flopped on the couch, staring at my silent phone. If she abandoned me, the crevasse of loneliness inside would

widen into a valley.

Sucking my pride, I texted her again.

u there?

So she had read my text. I shrunk. Fought biting her head off. Took a deep breath.

u still mad?

kinda

i'm sick of you walking away, u always do that when it gets tough

what was i supposed to do? weston was there

we could have talked about it

I guess, i have to go

u wanna hang 2nite?

yea maybe

I clicked off the phone and stuffed it in my pocket. At least I knew where I stood: behind Weston. We both put guys

in first position when the opportunity arose. Zero friends was my fault. No. Not my fault, Abria's. My time hadn't been my

own since Mom had covertly assigned me to be Abria's second mother, a job I'd savored when Abria was an infant—before

we knew she had autism. Once the devil autism had invaded her, being second Mom relegated me to a glorified animal

trainer.

I turned on my side, emotions pressing so heavily upon me I closed my eyes. Fought off angry tears.
If I could sink

into the couch for a few minutes...

The blare of a school bus horn woke me. I bolted to my feet, wobbled, then made my way to the door, waking up

along the way. I couldn't believe I'd slept.

I opened the door and Abria flew past me. Marla frowned. "We weren't sure anyone was home."

"I was asleep. Sorry."
You'd hate it if I didn't answer the door and you had to spend five extra minutes with her,
wouldn't you lady?

"We're only allowed to wait three minutes at pick up and drop off. It throws off our schedule otherwise," she said.

"Oh, so you'd have taken her home for the rest of the night if I hadn't answered?"

She cocked her head.

What had gotten into me? "Thanks," I said, then shut the door in her face. Abria. Home. Ugh. Her sing-song voice

came from the kitchen. I found her standing on the table, flapping. I rolled my eyes. "Get down you flamer. What do you

want to eat?" I went to the refrigerator, opened it.

"I'd love some milk if you can spare any."

I whirled around. Matthias stood at the table, next to Abria. His blue eyes twinkled. My heart flipped and spun in my

chest.

"I didn't scare you, did I?"

Stunned was more like it. Words locked in my throat. I shook my head. Looking at him eased my entire being from an

angry fist into an open hand. Every worry, every care was gone, drowned in his aura now filling the room.

"You... want milk?" I asked.

He nodded. "If you've got some."

"Doesn't every family?" I couldn't take my eyes from him, refused to for fear he'd be gone when I looked back.

Blindly, I reached for the milk, closed the refrigerator door and felt my way to the glass cabinet.

"What do you want to eat, little miss?" Matthias gently lifted Abria into his arms. My body buzzed. I imagined myself there, his comforting embrace around me, soothing and strong. My knees trembled and I grabbed onto the counter.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Uh. Yeah. Milk. I was pouring milk." Still afraid he'd vanish, I kept my gaze glued to him, opened the cabinet, felt for a glass and poured milk to overflowing. "Oops."

He chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere, Zoe."

Please tell me he can't read my thoughts. Oh no. No. NO.
He'd have heard me thinking about being in his arms..
. crap.

I cringed and reached for a towel to wipe the spill.
I'm going to go with the thought that he can't hear what I'm thinking. It's
the only way to save face.
I carried the glass over.

His twinkling gaze steadied on my hand, wrapped around the glass. "Please put it on the table. Thank you."

I set the glass down.

Matthias. Four feet—no three—away. Close.
Breathing.
He gingerly helped Abria sit in a chair. "What about Miss

Abria? What does she want to eat?" His eyes lifted to mine.

I swallowed, opened my mouth. A pathetic squeak came out.

"Zoe?"

"Oh. Abria, what do you want to eat, sweetie?"

She kept looking at Matthias, batting her lashes and turning away as if she was playing coy. "She's...I think she's

flirting with you."

His smile was genuine. "Something she picked up from her sister perhaps?"

"I can handle flirting, sure," I teased. "In fact, I'm the best kind of flirt: covert. You won't even realize I have you until it's too late."

His crystal blue gaze locked on mine. He lifted the milk to his lips, the color in his eyes deepening, but he didn't say

anything. Slowly, he sipped, as if savoring. I'd never seen anyone drink milk as if it was an intoxicating elixir. He drank the entire glass down at once, closing his eyes as the last of it slipped into his mouth. A warm tingling down low in my belly

caused my cheeks to heat.

"You want some more?" I asked, reaching for the glass.

Again, he watched my hand, and carefully placed the glass between us on the table. "No, thank you. That was nifty."

"Nifty?" I laughed. "Where do you come up with these words?"

He tilted his head, confused. "Don't you think milk is nifty?"

"I hate milk. I know it's one of the four food groups, but not in Zoeś pyramid."

"What's in Zoe's pyramid?"

Booze,
I thought, but wouldn't say. I chose my favorite alternative. "Rockstar. Proteins, carbs, fruits, veggies. And more Rockstar."

"Ah, yes. One of those new energy drinks I've heard so much about."

"Ever tried one?"

He shook his head.

I started toward the refrigerator. "I have one hidden in the lettuce crisper."

"No." He held up a hand. "The milk was dandy. Thank you." He turned his attention to Abria. "Abria still hasn't had nourishment."

"Nourishment?" I squelched a laugh. The innocence on his face mesmerized me. For a hottie, he sure talked strange.

"Where are you from, anyway?" I grabbed a banana because it was close, and took it over to Abria, dropping it in front other.

"Originally I'm from New York City."

"Nice. I've never been there."

"I hear it's changed since I lived there."

"When.. .exactly.. .did you live there?"

"It's been a few years now."

Abria picked up the banana and tossed it to the floor. Still afraid Matthias would somehow disappear, I locked my

gaze on him, bent over sideways, retrieved the banana and dropped it in front other again. She tossed it.

"Hey," I snapped.

"I don't think she wants the banana," Matthias observed.

"Yeah, well, we don't always get what we want." I shut my mouth.

Accustomed as I was to spouting off, the habit was coming back to bite me.

I didn't feel any judgment vibes. Matthias simply stood patiently. Again, I plucked the fallen banana from the floor