Grasping at Eternity (The Kindrily) (3 page)

“Ah, Maryah, how I have waited for this day.”

Double what the? I flinched, trying to silence the annoying buzzing in my ears. Spasms of pain pulsed behind my temples. Worst time ever for one of my famous headaches to start.
 

Louise hugged me, and the balloon thumped against the rim of my hat. “I’m so sad about what happened to your parents.”

My heart cracked. “And Mikey.”

“Yes, of course, and Michael. Such a terrible tragedy.”

She handed me the embarrassingly large bouquet of tulips attached to an annoying balloon that kept floating at my head. “These are for you.”

“Um, thank you.”

She leaned against the dark-haired man and patted his cheek. “This is my better half, Anthony.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Anthony.”

“Just Anthony.” He spoke gruffly. “Great to see you, girls. How was your flight?”

Krista groaned. “Long.”

“I see your casts are off.” Louise practically petted my arm.

Why was everyone so touchy feely? I tucked my hand behind my duffel bag. “My arm and leg are fine, so my aunt convinced the doctors to remove them yesterday.”

“Her doctors were drama queens,” Krista said. “They exaggerated about how severe her injuries were then acted all surprised and proud of themselves when she bounced back so fast.”

“Glad you healed so quickly.” Louise grinned at Krista then put her arm around me. “Let’s get your bags and take you home.”

We waited by the luggage carousel for our suitcases while Anthony left to pull the car around. Much to my relief, Louise and Krista made small talk so I didn’t have to. We found Anthony in the loading zone, leaning against an old but exquisite convertible.

“Nice car,” I said with sincerity.

“Thank you. She’s a 1964 ½ Mustang, original Guardsman Blue color.” He shoved my balloon and our suitcases into the trunk.

“My parents had a ‘57 Desoto. We rode in it every weekend.”

“What happened to it?”

“My uncle sold it. Apparently medical bills and college funds are more important than beloved,
priceless
cars.” I didn’t hide my sarcasm.

“That’s a shame.” Anthony shook his head and opened the passenger side door.

Krista and I climbed in the back then he assisted Louise into the passenger seat. It reminded me of the way my father treated my mother—with old-fashioned manners.

We pulled out of the airport and I sighed. Arizona—right back where I started. How ironic if I returned to my birthplace only to die of heartbreak.

At first Phoenix was like any other city, except for the brown mountains in the distance and an occasional palm tree. Further out of the city, a sign said “Carefree Highway.” I snickered at its nauseatingly cheerful name.

Cacti popped up everywhere. I didn’t want to be interested in what Arizona looked like but I couldn’t resist. The longer we drove, the more unique the scenery became.

“It’s so beautiful,” Krista cooed.

The car’s engine was loud, and with the top down, it would’ve been difficult to carry a conversation. Instead, we enjoyed the warm Arizona sun and the wind in our hair while shades of orange, brown, and green surrounded us.

The mountains kept growing larger and at times it felt like we were driving
through
them. A little over an hour into the drive, my ears popped. I pictured Arizona as a flat desert, so I felt like an idiot when a sign revealed we were at an elevation of 4,000 feet. I swallowed a few times, trying to release the pressure in my ears. The air tasted crisp and clean.

We exited the main highway and huge red rock formations came into view. I’d seen a lot of the East Coast, and had visited my father’s hometown in England, but never experienced any place like Sedona. The contrast of the bright red rocks against the cerulean sky was mesmerizing.

After turning onto a narrow road, we climbed a long winding driveway. My eyes bugged when I saw the huge house.

Anthony parked in front of a large garage. The drive had taken almost two hours, but Louise and Anthony held hands the whole time—just like my parents used to do.

Krista and I followed Louise to a gated archway, flanked on either side by a chest-high wall of stones. Above the gate hung a carved sign,
Peace to All Who Enter Here
.

“This is your house?” I asked with disbelief.

“Well,” Louise hesitated, “think of it as your home.”

I peered through the iron bars of the gate, staring at the terracotta-colored house behind it. Shades of green accented the roof, doors, and windows.

Anthony pushed the gate open, and we crossed the threshold of a private oasis. A main path led to the entrance of the house, but smaller paths snaked off in random directions. Yards in Maryland were mostly grass, but in Sedona, they were red dirt or gravel and pebbles. Boulders sat amongst pots of colorful flowers. I spotted a fountain, made of large dark stones with a Buddha statue sitting on top.

Wind chimes tinkled above us as we stepped onto the front porch, covered by a wooden pergola. The second I passed through the double doors I knew I’d been here before. My parents must’ve brought me when I was a baby. My bionic memory skills were at their finest.
 

“It’s lovely,” Krista said.

“Thank you. We like it.” Louise glanced over the spacious area in front of us.

A double-sided fireplace divided the space into two rooms. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked breathtaking red rock formations and cliff sides. Colors were everywhere: bright area rugs covering tile floors, sculptures of lizards and birds on the walls, paintings, masks, tiled mirrors. Flowers and plants blossomed in every corner and on every table.

An unusual scent wafted through the air—floral yet earthy. Just like how Louise smelled when she hugged me. Music played softly: flutes, drums, and other instruments I didn’t recognize, but the song fit the feel of the house. The front door thudded shut behind us.

Louise stood at my side but Anthony had disappeared. “Would you like a tour?”

“Sure.” Krista and I answered in surround sound.

Louise guided us through an archway into a colossal kitchen. Beyond the kitchen, fourteen chairs circled the biggest table I’d ever seen.

Krista nudged my shoulder and pointed at the ceiling. “Look how gorgeous.”

I knew about the skylight before I looked up. A giant star made from colored glass produced beams of light that shone on the table. I hid my smile, knowing no one would believe me if I claimed to remember that far back. I would’ve been a year old at most. Even I had trouble believing it.

“This is where we gather for special meals and meetings.” Louise rested her hands proudly on the wooden surface. “We have a large family.”

I hoped I’d never have to sit at a table with so many strangers, but it was impressive.

“Louise.” Krista fidgeted. “May I use your bathroom?”

“Down that hall and to the right.”

Krista left and I momentarily panicked at the thought of being left alone with Louise, but she just smiled and waved me down another hall.

Abstract paintings decorated most of the walls. Many looked old, while others looked newer. They were full of vivid streaks and swirls of colors. Some shined like metal, others shimmered and sparkled.

“These paintings are amazing.”

“Thank you very much.” Louise placed her hands over her chest. “Each one holds a special place in my heart.”

“Are they all by the same artist?”

“Yes, I painted all of them.”

“
You
painted them?”

She laughed. “Is it so surprising that I can paint?”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—it’s just—I’ve never seen paintings like that. You should sell them. You’d make a fortune.”

“Oh, I could never sell these.” She touched one with admiration. “Each one is an extension of my soul. I add details as needed, but they’re never finished. They are
all
works in progress.”

“You’re very talented.”

“Thank you. What about you? What’s your talent?”

“Ha!” I snickered. “I have no talent whatsoever. My dad tried coaxing some creativity out of me, but I’m hopeless.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that. Everyone has a gift. It’s a matter of figuring out what yours is and using it for good—and to the best of your ability.”

“Don’t hold your breath. I’m pretty useless.”

Louise made a discerning humming noise but didn’t say anything else. I noticed there were no photographs anywhere. Louise seemed like such a family-oriented person, I expected to see pictures plastered all over the place.

“Mine and Anthony’s room,” she announced, pausing at a set of open doors.

Suns, moons, and stars decorated the large room. Their midnight blue king-sized bed was centered on the far wall with a plaque above it that said,
Love knows no limits
.

A lump formed in my throat. My parents had the same saying in their room. I didn’t plan on so many reminders of home. I’d be fighting back tears no matter where I lived.

We continued down the wide hallway and I stopped at a closed door. I had an overwhelming desire to look inside, but I knew that would be rude.

“That’s Nathaniel’s room, but he left for Colorado yesterday,” Louise said. “My oldest son, Dylan, and his wife live there, and Nathaniel is starting school there this fall, so he moved in with them.”

“Right.” Embarrassed that I’d stared at his door so long, I forced myself to step away.

“And this is your room.” Louise pushed open a large wooden door.

It took my breath away.

The room was much bigger than anything I’d had in Maryland. It might have been bigger than Louise’s room. The wood beam ceilings looked twelve-feet high. Forest green curtains draped the towering windows. A crystal hung in each one, reflecting rainbows in numerous directions. Glass doors led to a private balcony.

“It’s so…enchanting.” I couldn’t believe I used that word, but wow.

Louise stood in the doorway. "I'm glad you like it.”

I felt like I’d entered a woodland fantasy. The bed frame was made from thick tree branches that extended to the ceiling. White flowing material canopied the bed and draped down each side onto the floor, enclosing whoever slept there. Me. I’d be sleeping there. In the fanciest bed I’d ever seen. I should’ve felt weird about sleeping in a strange new bed, but something about the room comforted me.

A round thing made of twigs, strings, and peacock feathers swung gently above the bed. “What’s that?” I nodded upward.

“A dream catcher. It’s a Native American talisman. Bad dreams are caught in the web while good dreams travel along the feathers and into the mind of the person sleeping beneath it. As the sun rises, the light dissolves any negativity it captured during the night.”

“Hmph. Nice idea.” Not that I believed it, but it would be great if a circle of wood and feathers could keep my nightmares away.

“Ooooh,” Krista sailed into the room, running her fingers over a bowl of pink and white stones on the nightstand. “Himalayan Salt Rocks. They enhance your wellbeing.” Krista loved natural hippie stuff, so of course she knew what they were. “I am so jealous of this room. Can I move in here too?”

I wanted to smack her. I hadn’t decided to move anywhere yet. “You didn’t do all this for me, did you?”

“It was a joint effort by the family,” Louise replied. “However, Nathaniel did most of the decorating. He wanted to make sure you had a special place to escape.”

I gazed around again. “He outdid himself.”

Louise tapped softly on the door knob. “Carson’s room is down the hall. He’ll be home later. And Edgar and Helen live in the in-law cottage next door, but they’re out of town.”

Krista kicked off her sandals. “Do you have anything to snack on? I’m starving.”

“Certainly,” Louise replied.

Krista bolted across the room, but I wanted some alone time. “I’m really tired. Mind if take a nap?”

“Do whatever you like. This is your home, Maryah. Make yourself comfortable.” Krista gave me a thumbs-up just before Louise shut my bedroom door.

I rifled through my suitcase until I found what I needed. Krista had been making scented candles for years and they always made me feel better. I lit one for each of my parents and Mikey. My favorite three scents: Green Clover, Nag Champa, and Ocean.

I climbed into the big fluffy bed and closed my eyes. It was the first sense of peace I had since the night of the attack. Sedona seemed like the perfect place to hide from my memories.

Nathaniel

Before my motorcycle fully skidded to a stop in the garage, I ripped off my helmet. I put the kickstand down and paced the driveway. None of my daredevil distractions kept Maryah out of my mind.

I’d been so insistent about moving away. Dylan and Amber refused to let me go alone, so they packed up their life and also moved to Colorado. I’d never live it down if they knew how badly I wanted to go back.

Both of their cars were gone. They’d never know if I made one quick trip to Sedona.

Over the last several lifetimes, I’d mastered my ability to traverse, so the process took merely the length of one breath. I opened every cell in my body so the ions could flow through me. Borrowing a surge of energy from the ionosphere, I prepared to let the flux of a stellar flare form a bridge to my destination.

I resurfaced atop Cathedral Rock, staring across the desert at the house—our house.

She chose to return to our home.

Maryah and her choices: they’d be the death of me.

Waves of adrenaline shot across my chest. I pictured her walking down our hallways, standing in our kitchen, entering our bedroom, gazing out the windows at a land she used to be so in love with.

Could she be looking out a window right now? Looking in my direction? From the far distance, I’d only be a silhouette of a hiker—a stranger—standing on the cliffs. God, how I ached to see her again. I squinted, trying to detect any movement in the house, but the sun hung too low in the sky, creating a blinding glare against the windows.

Throughout this lifetime I had occasionally checked in on her, but only from afar. Once, I sat behind her on the bleachers at a football game. My knees rested inches from her back. Even then, she felt miles away. Now, she and Krista were in our home, surrounded by people Maryah assumed were strangers. Almost a mile of desert separated us, but this was the closest I’d felt to her in nearly two decades.