End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) (36 page)

Chapter Seventy-Seven

 

Before Frank Jr. came to
town, Eric and I had to attend my cousin’s Quinceañera. Miraculously, our
vacation requests to have the weekend, plus the following Monday and Tuesday
off were approved. We couldn’t take any more time though since we were both
scheduled to report for work on Thursday, which was Thanksgiving.  

Instead of staying at my
parent’s house, we reserved a hotel room. Since Quinceañeras are all-day
affairs, we decided it would be nice to have a no family buffer zone to escape
to if needed. The bathroom in our room was big enough for the both of us to get
ready at the same time. We moved around each other, remembering the steps of
our married routine like a well-rehearsed dance.

I watched Eric in the
mirror as he stood behind me, zipping up my dress and clasping a simple gold
necklace behind my neck. He smoothed my hair, which hung loose past my shoulder
blades. He was wearing a dark blue suit that complimented his eyes. He caught
me watching him and held my gaze in the mirror.

“You’re beautiful,” he
said, leaning forward and nuzzling my neck. It tickled and I laughed, squirming
away, but he stopped me, using his body to pin me against the counter. I spun
around to face him and kissed him once, a peck on the lips, before quickly
ducking underneath his arms and stepping free.

“As much as I’d love to
hole up here all day with you, we RSVP’d, we’re already dressed and my mother
knows our room number.”

He groaned as I walked
away. After a brief inspection in the mirror Eric straightened his tie and
joined me by the front door. My hands were full with the birthday present,
wrapped in shiny pink paper and topped with a ribbon so large, I could barely
see over it, so he opened the door and once I stood in the hallway, he grabbed
the gift.

“Safety first, Hernandez.
You’re already endangering yourself wearing those,” he said with a smirk, glancing
down at the four inch heels on my fashion over function shoes.

I smacked him on his
shoulder and led the way to the elevators. Once we were in the lobby, we
followed signs for the Quinceañera. My heels clacked on the tile floor as we
made our way to the grand ballroom. The music reached our ears when we were
halfway down the wide hallway and grew louder the closer we got.

Eric pulled the enormous
brass door handle on one of the large double doors. Upon opening, music and the
shrieks of excited teenage girls threatened to deafen us.

“Are you ready for this?”
I asked him. “Those girls are going to love you.” He was definitely looking
good in his suit and he blanched slightly at my comment. I spotted my parents
and we crossed the room to check in with them. Eric walked in a more controlled
manner like he was concentrating on keeping his usual swagger in check. I
stifled a laugh. Eric could handle busting dangerous criminals, but a room full
of squealing teenage girls intimidated the crap out of him.

Like me, my mom had
changed outfits since the church ceremony. Her sweater set and dress pants were
replaced with a simple black dress and patent leather pumps adorned with a gold
buckle at the front. Her hair was swept up into a twist, black streaked with silver.

“Elena, you look lovely,”
she said, taking in my strapless gold cocktail dress.

“I couldn’t agree with
you more.” Eric wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek. Eager to
divert the attention away from me I asked where we needed to put our gift. My
mom took me to a table heaped with elaborately wrapped presents and I set our
offering down. When we returned to our family’s table, Cruz had arrived. His
suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair and his shirt sleeves were
already rolled up.

“Cruz, fix your shirt,”
my mom admonished him and bent over, grabbing one of his wrists, clucking her
tongue in the process.

“Hey Elena,” Cruz nodded
at me. “So Monday’s the big day, huh?”

“What are you talking
about?” I asked, noticing Eric’s head had whipped around at my brother’s
question.

“You know…the ghost thing
with Gavin? He told me about the medium and all.”

I was speechless because
I had intentionally not told my family, especially my mother, knowing the whole
concept would be met with disapproval. I thought Gavin understood this, but
couldn’t recall if I had actually told him not to say anything to my brother.
The stunned expression on my face must have clued Cruz in because he tried to
change subjects. It was too late.

“Elena, what is this?” my
mom asked me. She was in interrogator mode. Her eyes locked on mine and she stood
with her feet planted hip width apart, her arms crossed. This pose and intense
scrutiny always made Cruz and I crack when we were younger. She still had the
same effect because I found myself unable to lie. I gestured for my parent’s to
sit down and pulled a chair up closer to them so we didn’t have to shout over
the music. Eric sat down next to me and took my hand. He gave it a reassuring
squeeze. Taking a deep breath I told them the entire story starting with my
rescue, which they already knew about, and ending with the conversation I had
with Frank Jr.

My mom tried to interrupt
several times, but my dad put a hand on her forearm, silencing her. As soon as
I was done though, she jumped right in.

“Elena, this is crazy.
You’re talking to dead people and hanging out with psychics?”

“Ghosts, mom, and Adele’s
a medium, not a psychic.” As I corrected her, it made me realize I’d thought
the same thing not too long ago and this was just one of the many times where
her words echoed mine or vice versa. “In fact Adele possesses both clairvoyance
and clairaudience abilities.”

“What does that mean?”

“She can see and hear
ghosts, even communicate with them, like me. I had no idea these things were
possible.”

“I don’t like it. It’s
dangerous to play around with the dead. Leave the dead alone and focus on
living.”

“I have to agree with
your mom on this one, Elena. This doesn’t sound normal,” my dad said.

“Sir, I know this is
difficult to process,” Eric chimed in before I could respond. “Trust me, I’ve
been there. As unreal as it sounds, it’s very real. I’ve witnessed Elena and
Adele in action and it’s really something to behold. Besides, this whole
experience brought us back together.” Eric lifted my hand and kissed it before
placing it back on the table. I smiled up at him, grateful for his support.

My mom’s eyes narrowed
and she pursed her lips before saying, “I still don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what, Mom…the
ghosts or me and Eric?” My temper was beginning to flare and I didn’t want to
make a scene. “I am living, mom, more so than I have in months. A year ago I wouldn’t
even have attended this Quinceañera. It was so easy to tune out and keep to
myself. Eric makes me happy, these ghosts saved my life and now it’s my turn to
help them. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d be judgmental. Well, guess
what? It doesn’t matter. You can support me or not…it won’t influence my
decision.”

Silence hung over the
table in the wake of my outburst. My mom pursed her lips together before they
twitched into a smile. Suddenly she was laughing. We all stared at her like she
had completely lost it.

“There you are,” she
said. “I haven’t seen you that feisty in a long time, Elena.”

My dad relaxed and took
my mom’s hand in his. He was the strong and silent type and this reminded me of
Eric. Aside from his little speech, Eric was behind me showing his support by
holding my hand or rubbing my back. He wasn’t letting me battle alone, but was
giving me the floor to say my piece, always letting his presence be known in
the background.

“I may not understand
ghosts or mediums, but I know you, Elena. You need to do this and if they are
responsible for you being alive, then who am I to say anything. I’m just glad
to have my daughter.”

“Yes and I’m not worried
knowing you’re not doing this alone,” my dad added, looking across the table at
Eric.

“Whew, things were
getting intense. Maybe now our waitress will come back and take my drink order.
We scared her away,” Cruz said, further diffusing the tension. I noticed he had
fixed his sleeves, the cuffs now buttoned and the wrinkles smoothed out.

After that, Eric pulled
me onto the dance floor, giving me some much needed space from my mother. “I
love her, don’t get me wrong, but she can be so stubborn,” I grumbled into
Eric’s chest as he held me close. The soft beat of a slow song throbbed in the
background.

“You might hate me for
saying this, but you two are a lot alike.” He kissed the top of my head.

He was right, even though
I hated to admit it, so I didn’t get mad. Instead I focused on being in his
arms, aware that my mom’s objections weren’t about our relationship, but the
ghosts.

 

 

Chapter Seventy-Eight

 

We took full advantage of
having a hotel room and prolonged checking out until the last possible moment.
I left Eric at the registration counter to settle up our bill and walked into
the hotel restaurant to meet my parents and Cruz for brunch.

Cruz was obviously nursing
a hangover, his body listed to one side and his eyelids hung at half-mast over
bloodshot eyes.

“I hope you behaved
yourself with all of that jailbait,” I teased him. “I am a law enforcement
officer; it’d be awkward to have to bring you in.” He grunted in response and
took a sip of coffee.

“Speaking of awkward…one
of the servers last night was really cute and friendly, if you know what I
mean.” Cruz winked or winced, I wasn’t sure. It seemed like any small movement
hurt. “I couldn’t really bring her back to my hotel room since I was sharing
mom and dads’.”

“Oh boy!” I laughed and
sat down next to mom, leaving the seat between me and Cruz open for Eric. Just
as I was thinking of him, I glanced up to see him entering the restaurant. He
spotted us and weaved his way through a sea of white tablecloths.

My family was noticeably
less distant with Eric and more accepting of us as a couple, especially my mom
who fussed over him and made sure he got plenty of sausage to go with his
pancakes. She tisked at Cruz who barely ate anything and when he did, he moaned
and made a big production over the effort.

“You did this to
yourself, Cruz,” she said, “You need to practice more self-control. You don’t
have to treat every special occasion like it’s a frat party.”

I smirked while
suppressing a laugh and my dad saw this. He winked at me before eating another
forkful of eggs Benedict.

Once my mom was done
lecturing Cruz, she set down her fork and turned her attention towards me and
Eric. “Tomorrow is when you’re doing this thing with the medium, right?” I
nodded. Her dark eyes moved to Eric. “You’ll keep her safe?”

“Yes, I don’t want to
lose her again.” My hand was resting on the tabletop and Eric placed his over
mine, lacing our fingers together.

“Good.” She picked up her
fork and resumed eating without further comment.

 

 

*** 

 

It was early evening by
the time we left Glendale to head back to Prescott. Adele had advised we both
get a good night’s sleep and be fully hydrated in preparation for the next
day’s event. We weren’t planning on stopping to see the ghosts on our return
trip, but I wanted to check in on Frank. The last time I saw him he was anxious
about meeting his son who we were picking up at the bus station in the morning.

Eric pulled onto the
small sandy clearing at the side of the Interstate and I hopped out. Almost
instantly everyone materialized to gather around me.

“What’s wrong? Has
anything changed for tomorrow?” Frank immediately asked, wringing his hands in
an attempt to channel the anxiety.

“Eric and I are picking
your son up at 11:30 as long as his bus stays on schedule, we should be here by
noon. We were on our way home and wanted to check in…to make sure you’re ready
for tomorrow.”

“I’m ready. I never
thought I’d get to meet my child.”

“Great, we’ll see you
tomorrow. Adele is excited to meet you all so she can determine how to help get
you crossed over.”

We said our goodbyes and
I climbed back into the Jeep. As Eric pulled onto the highway, I turned back
and watched the ghosts. They stayed on the side of the road for as long as I
could see them. When they receded from view, I turned back around to face the
windshield. The headlights illuminated the lines on the road and the night sky
opened up before us. Without a city nearby, the stars seemed close enough to
touch, as if millions of miles didn’t separate us from the far reaches of the
universe. I was quiet, all thoughts on what the next day would bring. Eric took
my hand, but didn’t interrupt. How well he could read me now - the distance we
had forcibly put between us no longer existed. I held onto this, hoping Frank’s
son could put to rest any resentment he held towards his father.

 

Chapter Seventy-Nine

 

The bus was a few minutes
late pulling into the station. We were parked near the bay, I was leaning
against the driver’s side of Eric’s Jeep watching disheveled and exhausted
travelers file out, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the sunlight after
spending hours behind tinted windows. Frank was one of the last passengers to
depart. He wore a polo shirt and baggy jeans. His hair was combed back and
didn’t hang in his face like it did in his latest mug shot. Years of heavy
drinking showed in his rheumy eyes and broken blood vessels on his nose. The
resemblance to his father, from the dark wavy hair (although graying at the
temples), to the slight paunch in his waistline aided in identifying him. I
pushed away from my car and walked up to him as he was retrieving his duffle
bag from the bus’ storage compartment.

“Frank?” I asked, holding
out my hand. “Elena Hernandez.”

He set his bag down and
took my hand. “Nice to meet you – can I see your ID?”

I was surprised, but
shouldn’t have been considering Frank Jr.’s history. I’d be suspicious about
law enforcement too. Frank followed me back to the Jeep where I retrieved my
driver’s license and badge. “This is my boyfriend, Eric. He’s also a sheriff’s
deputy.” Eric handed his identification to Frank Jr. too who seemed satisfied
after examining the documents and returned them to us.

“We’re going to head
right over to the highway where your dad is - if that’s okay with you?” I said,
holding the passenger door open.

“Yeah, let’s get the show
on the road.” Frank Jr. slid the seat forward, threw his bag in the back and
climbed in after it.

He didn’t say anything during
the short drive, just stared out the window. When we pulled onto the clearing
next to I-17, Frank Jr. stirred from whatever thoughts had kept him
preoccupied. “Is this the place?”

“Yes, the medium and
Gavin will be here soon.

It wasn’t a surprise to
find Frank, Lawrence, Georgia and Bob waiting for us when we got out of the
car.

“Your dad is here.”

“What? Where?” he asked, turning
around searching for him. I was hoping he’d be able to see his father.

“He’s in front of us,
with the others.”

Frank bent over to pick
up a stick so he could write in the sand, but I held my hand out. “Not now,
let’s wait for the medium.” I could see Frank Jr. was getting freaked out and
shutting down. Seeing the two Franks side by side took my breath away. Frank,
forever twenty-eight, could pass as the son, not the father. I shook my head,
remembering Eric and Frank Jr. couldn’t witness this.

“Come on, I’ll show you
around.”

For people driving by
there wasn’t much to look at, but for Frank Jr., this was where his father died.

We waited for a break in
the traffic and jogged across the lanes to the other side. I stepped over the
guard rail with Eric and Frank Jr. right behind. Frank Jr. was wheezing
slightly from the jog so we stopped. Frank materialized next to his son and I
pointed down the embankment at a twisted hunk of rusted metal, slowly flaking
away into the desert.

“That’s your father’s
car.”

“Nobody towed it out?” he
asked. I could hear the surprise in his voice.

“They didn’t back then if
the owner couldn’t afford it. There are some stretches of Route 66 where
wrecked cars are piled up at the bottom of steep cliffs, resembling a junkyard.
Who knows, maybe someday the Department of Transportation will get extra money
and do a big clean-up, but I doubt it.”

Frank Jr. didn’t respond,
instead he stood up and made a cautious descent down the sandy embankment. He
slid once and in a jerky motion, put his hand down to stop from falling. His
father followed, hovering like a shadow. Eric and I stayed at the guard rail,
giving Frank Jr. some time alone and also to keep an eye out for Gavin and
Adele’s arrival.

“Frank is down there with
him,” I told Eric.

“Interesting. I thought
seeing his son might be the catalyst for him to cross over.”

“It still might be. I
think they need time together.”

“I wish I could see what
you’re seeing.”

“Same here.” I zipped my
jacket, blocking the cold wind that blew across the desert and leaned towards
Eric until our shoulders were touching.

Frank Jr. circled the
remains of his father’s car. The paint job had disappeared under a layer of sand
and rust, like moss covering a boulder. New growth had already sprouted up
around the tire wells since the brushfire; signs of nature claiming a foreign
object, absorbing it into the ecosystem.

Frank tried repeatedly to
put his hand on his son’s shoulder. With each effort he grew brighter and I
knew he was calling up on all the energy in the atmosphere available to him as
a resource. Frank Jr. started to twitch and swat at the air, like he was being
pestered by a persistent insect. Not making progress, Frank picked up a branch
from off of the ground. I saw his son’s eyes grow wide as he followed the
stick’s progress through the air. Frank wrote something on the sand blanketing
the crumbled hood of his old car. We were too far away to make out what his
message said.

Suddenly, Frank Jr. jerked
backwards. He didn’t see a rock lodged in the sand directly behind him and he
fell, landing in a crab position. He didn’t bother trying to stand, but scurried
backwards, trying to move away from the car as quickly as possible.

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