Happily Never After (12 page)

Jason grabbed my arm as I walked away. “Why
isn’t it a good idea? Why do you hide from things?”

I shook my head at him. “You don’t know
anything about me.”

“Then give me a chance to.”

“I want to, Jason, I do. In the last
twenty-four hours you’ve learned more about me than anyone in my
life, except Abby. The only way I’ve stayed sane was by not letting
anyone get close. I take care of myself first and don’t trust
people. It doesn’t matter that I feel a connection to you. Can you
understand why I at least want to keep my distance from you and not
be another notch in your belt?”

I didn’t realize I’d spoken so long or so
passionately until I saw his eyes staring intensely at me.

Then, he spoke. “You’re stereotyping again. I
do understand that you’re only trying to protect yourself and that
you’ve done it out of necessity. You want the truth? I think you’re
awesome. It might come across as a line, but I’ve never met anyone
like you. All the girls I meet are exactly the same; vapid,
self-centered and boring. I look at you and I see the kind of girl
I want to know, even when you’re rude and sarcastic. Which adds to
it somehow.”

My glare slipped and I wanted to believe him
but I steeled myself to say. “Nice try. You’re not going to flatter
the pants off me.”

He didn’t react as I had expected. “See!
That’s what I’m talking about.”

I couldn’t help the small grin forcing its
way through.

“You’re quick and witty and wounded...”

“Wait, wounded? Is that how you see me?” I
interrupted him. “I’m not some sad puppy for you to save, Jason. If
that’s what you want go find Little Miss Perfect Blonde and save
her from an unfortunate tanning accident. You’re wasting your time
here.”

That ticked him off. “Come on Quinn, that’s
not what I was saying. I’m not trying to save you because you don’t
need it. You’re brave and strong and fighting for something. You’ve
had a crappy life since your dad died but there’s still warmth in
you. I can see it no matter how hard you try to keep it hidden. The
snarky exterior is mostly show. I know it and so do you. You just
have to decide how it affects the relationships in your life, even
possible relationships. Think about it. I’ll call you later. Count
on it.”

Before I could respond, he was gone.

I wasn’t entirely sure what happened just now
but it left me feeling a mixture of curiosity and restlessness.
Jason’s words thawed a part of me I either forgot about or didn’t
know existed. I didn’t see what he found so impressive about me but
I kind of wanted to find out. He knew exactly what to say to hold
my attention and turned out to be nothing as I expected, or hoped.
I needed to learn to let myself go.

I heard a loud noise and saw a bus pulling
into the stop half a block ahead of me. Running forward, I boarded
it without a second thought. My destination was Bonaventure
Cemetery, where my parents laid in eternal slumber together. Today
would have been Daddy’s birthday and I couldn’t avoid it any
longer.

Chapter Sixteen

My mind wandered on the ride out and I almost
changed my mind when I transferred buses. It had been over a year
since I'd visited my parents’ graves. I never spent much time
wondering why I spaced my visits so far between. Maybe it had to do
with the reminder of how much I missed them.

I got off the bus with a group of tourists
and followed them through the entrance.

Bonaventure Cemetery was located on the site
of the Bonaventure Plantation. The original plantation house was
built in 1762, but after both houses were destroyed, it was now
used mainly as a cemetery and historic site.

This cemetery stood out in sharp contrast to
the much older Colonial Park cemetery, where we met Jason. Colonial
Park had a dark, almost sinister feel to it. The trees were old and
gnarled, the flowers only bloomed at night and even the tombstones
were corroded. It felt the way an old, scary cemetery should.

But Bonaventure was beautiful and sat on a
bluff looking out over the Wilmington River. Flowers perfumed the
air and many of the plots were landscaped to resemble little parks.
Savannahians made coming to visit their ancestors an event. That
included park benches and fresh flowers around the graves to make
the visits more comfortable.

I’ve heard people say that we were similar to
the Japanese in how we worshiped our ancestors. Each generation
paid homage and gave respect to those who came before them. It was
one of the truest ways to describe how we felt about our past.

So many people used the phrase ‘the past is
alive’ to describe a place. Here, in Savannah, it was the
truth.

Most of the older generations of the Roberts
family lay buried in Colonial Park, but it had been closed to new
burials for a long time. Now, our family plot was here. I made the
mental note to see if I could find Catherine’s grave next time I
went to Colonial Park. It might be a good thing to have on
standby.

I made my way down the shaded paths and
eventually reached our plot. As much as I was able to block the
feelings from the spirits populating the cemetery, some still got
through. Places like this, where the dead were higher in number,
tested the mental walls I'd constructed to keep them out of my
head. There were too many to ignore.

The lush, green grass invited me to sit down
and as I settled into place I tried to fight the rush of emotion. I
hated crying here. The last thing I wanted my parents to see, if
they were still here, was my sadness and weakness.

“Hi Mama,” I whispered. “Happy Birthday,
Daddy.”

Pausing, I opened up my mind and sorted
through the barrage of information coming from the spirits nearby.
None of them were my parents, so I locked it back down.

I sighed.

“It doesn’t matter how many times I try, I
always expect to feel one of you. The only thing I can do is hope
you’re together in a better place.”

A tear slipped from my eye and I brushed it
away impatiently.

“I really need your help right now, Daddy.
All this stuff about the will and the bank and the house, none of
it makes sense. I need someone to reassure me that what I’m
fighting for is worth it and that I’m doing the right thing.”

The wind caressing the trees came as my only
answer.

“And Mama, I met a guy. He’s an actor, which
I’m sure you and Daddy would be hesitant about. Jason sees me in a
way not a lot of people care to. I find myself wanting to tell him
everything about myself, and it's scary. He said all these nice
things to me but I’m so scared to take the chance and open myself
up to him with everything else that’s going on.”

I sat there for a while longer enjoying the
stillness. Then, something prickled the back of my neck causing the
hair to stand up. Turning, I saw Marietta with a handful of
flowers. The moment we locked eyes, her face went vacant and I
sensed the dark presence loom out of her.

“Don’t worry Quinn, soon you’ll be lying here
with them forever.” The voice came from Marietta but her mouth did
not move. Her hand lifted and she pointed behind me.

I looked back and my skin went cold.

In the empty space beside Mama and Daddy’s
tombstones, was one that hadn’t been there a moment before. I took
a couple jerky steps forward until the name on the stone froze me
in place.

Quinn Roberts.

As if in a trance, I reached forward fully
expecting my hand to pass through the pale granite but it didn’t.
My hand lay on the cold stone. I whipped my head back to
Marietta.

“What is this?”

Laughter. Then the voice said, “This is your
future.”

The ground opened up beneath me and swallowed
me up. I landed with a thud at the bottom of an empty grave. The
top of the six-foot high walls were just out of my reach. There was
no way out. In a panic, I turned in circles, fruitlessly searching
for an exit. Marietta walked to the edge and looked down at me with
those dull, lifeless eyes. The shadow whirled around her, obscuring
her face at times, and stirring up the now familiar river
scent.

I was terrified but before I even had a
chance to scream out for help, the walls of the grave began falling
inward. I was being buried alive. A constant flood of dirt and rock
rained down on me, filling the space at an impossibly fast pace. I
clawed at the walls trying to get out, not caring that my
fingernails were being ripped out by the compact earth. I knew the
cemetery at this time of day held dozens maybe hundreds of people
but my desperate cries for help went unanswered.

The dirt crept higher; locking me in a vise
there was no escaping from. It reached my neck but my body still
fought. The one arm, still free, stretched feebly for the clear
blue sky above me. In the midst of my cries and gulping sobs I
heard cold laughter. When the first clumps of dirt fell in my mouth
I didn’t taste it. I tasted death. I felt the dirt slipping down my
throat and blocking out the disappearing air. Then, it covered my
eyes and the light vanished. The entire thing lasted less than a
minute, not even giving me a chance to accept defeat. But as the
darkness settled so did despair.

My lungs screamed for air. The pain of it was
the worst thing I’d ever experienced. It felt like a lifetime, but
in reality, only a couple seconds passed before a comforting sense
of calm pushed into every inch of me.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. I
never got a chance to say goodbye or even a chance to fight. I
wanted to fight.

The moment I thought those words, there was a
sucking sensation and I felt the pressure surrounding me lessen.
Suddenly, I could breathe again. When I opened my eyes I saw I was
kneeling in the grass next to my parents’ graves. I turned my head
and noticed Marietta still standing there, vacant eyes and all.

Chills raced through me as the reality of
what I experienced sunk in. Catherine showed me I was far from safe
and I understood she was playing with me. I hung my head in an
attempt to catch my breath and shot to my feet after catching a
glimpse of my arms.

I was covered in dirt. It clung to me
everywhere. Panicked, I brushed at my clothes and my arms, trying
to get it off me. But it wouldn’t go away no matter how hard I
wiped at it.

“What is happening?” I yelled. It was then I
realized Marietta was gone. The only people I saw were an elderly
couple who hurried by when they saw me. I wondered if they saw the
dirt or if all they saw was a crazy girl swatting at her arms and
talking to air.

An irrational fear seized me. The cemetery no
longer felt safe. I needed to get out of there. A crazy laugh
bubbled up inside of me. I had just been buried alive and I was
afraid of a bright, sunny open space? It didn’t seem right.

I remember rushing out of the cemetery, of
being on the bus, and the freakish stares of the other passengers.
The dirt still wouldn’t come off and the logical part of my brain
told me there was no way it was real. It had to be an illusion. But
the odd looks I received made me doubt that.

When I got home, I rushed in and accidentally
slammed the door.

I heard voices in the kitchen and as badly as
I wanted to get upstairs and look in a mirror, I was drawn in their
direction.

The twins and Marietta gathered around the
breakfast bar eating a pizza. I almost didn’t recognize Marietta.
She laughed and smiled with the girls, looking more like herself
than she had in five years.

I stood there in shock watching them and
longing to be a part of it, even as I was wary of the change in my
stepmother.

All three of them caught sight of me at the
same time. Their expressions ranged from concern to disgust and to
amusement.

“Are you okay?” Anna asked.

Suzie shot her a dirty look and said, “Of
course she is. Where have you been Quinn? Bathing with the other
cows?”

I caught my reflection in the stainless steel
fridge and all the blood drained from my head. Clutching the
cabinet, I couldn’t believe what I saw. I was covered in dirt,
exactly as I feared. How was it even possible?

I shook my head in denial at the image in
front of me. I didn’t understand.

“Quinn, where were you?” Marietta
demanded.

Something about her question snapped me out
of my daze. “I was at the cemetery. Today was Daddy’s
birthday.”

Marietta wiped her mouth daintily and gave me
a sad smile. “I know. I meant to make it down there today but I got
caught up in work. I’ll go tomorrow.”

My brows drew together in confusion. “But I
saw you. You were there. I talked to you.”

She stood up and brought her glass to the
sink. “You must have fallen down and hit your head. I wasn’t at the
cemetery today.”

Chapter Seventeen

The next day life returned to normal. I stood
at my family’s beck and call every hour of the day. The up and down
emotions of the last couple days wore me out and reality came
crashing in with a vengeance.

Whenever Marietta talked down to me or
ordered me to do some menial task, I wanted to confront her about
what happened at the cemetery or what I’d found out about Daddy’s
will. It took every last bit of strength for me not to come clean.
Instead, I focused on the outcome I wanted, being rid of Catherine
and having Marietta out of my house.

Sleeping the night before was impossible.
Every time I closed my eyes I felt the suffocating pressure of the
dirt on me. Lately, all my nightmares had been the kind you have
when wide awake.

I met Abby downtown on one of my ridiculous
errands for a quick bite at an outdoor cafe. We hadn’t had a chance
to talk much lately and naturally, she was full of questions about
Jason and Marietta. I made the decision not to tell her about the
day before. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust her because I did,
more than anyone.