246
Beneath the Surface
From the information that Eric had insisted on feeding her from her stepdad over the last few days, despite how much she’d tried to block it out, her mother had been taking her medication regularly, had been clean and sober all the way up until the accident, and hadn’t had any of her lapses or black-outs in more than nineteen years.
It was a drunk driver that had ended her life, Tabitha thought ironically. Her mother had never done anything small time, or easy. Why should she die that way?
What a way to start the New Year.
Tabitha sat in the back of the church with EJ and listened as the priest read a few choice sections from the bible, then called her father up to give the eulogy.
She felt the tears welling as soon as he reached the podium, but held them in.
I’m not going to cry. I’m not.
He hadn’t seen her slip into the church at the last minute, and she was still hoping to escape his knowing she had come, until he glanced up from his notes and noticed her.
Once he tearfully mouthed “thank you” then spoke of her mother, and what a good and loving wife she’d been, a caring and generous neighbor, giving anecdotes to illustrate the pastoral life they’d led as man and wife in suburban New Jersey, the dam finally broke, tears flowing down Tabitha’s face uncontrollably.
Eric put an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head against his chest and let the tears flow, the realization that her mother was really gone finally hitting her.
The casket was closed at her father’s request, everyone’s point of reference a recent picture that had been blown up to ten-by-fifteen and sat on a brass stand adjacent the coffin behind the podium.
When the ceremony came to an end, rather than file past the coffin, the mourners filed past the photo.
Tabitha remained in her seat in the back with EJ until the church was empty and only then did she go up front and pause at the picture. She fingered the glossy covering as if she could feel her mother’s spirit, touch her mother one last time. She closed her eyes and imagined her mother at the bus station, the last time she’d seen her alive. Her mom had been happy that day, extremely happy, one of her manic moods, her excitement rubbing off when she told Tabitha they were going on a trip.
Tabitha didn’t remember now how long she’d waited, except that when she’d realized her mother had left her and wasn’t coming back, she’d never dreamed her disappearance permanent. Her mother always came back, if it was days and weeks later, she always did.
But not that last time.
Eric grasped her arm. “Tabitha, your father’s waiting outside. He wants us to ride in the limo with him to the gravesite.”
She shook her head. “Tell him we’ll follow the procession in your Jeep.”
“Tab—”
247
Gracie C. McKeever
“I can’t be with him right now. Not yet.”
Tabitha didn’t know what he said to her father outside, but a minute later he was coming back alone to retrieve her and take her to his Jeep.
The gravesite was fifteen minutes away, and most of the mourners who’d attended the funeral were at the graveside ceremony.
Despite her father and EJ’s persistence, Tabitha stood several yards away from the grave, couldn’t take being too close to all the mourners who knew her mother, did not want that familial pressure or responsibility yet, maybe never; did not think she could deal with being the “daughter of the deceased.”
After the ceremony, Tabitha lingered behind for several moments with Eric. She waited as her father shook hands with his and her mother’s friends and well-wishers until the graveside was finally deserted except for her, her father and Eric.
Hesitantly, her father approached, paused in front of her and caught her by the shoulders.
Tabitha had thought she was all cried out before he touched her, before he stared at her with those contrite and grateful brown eyes shining with tears behind his glasses and the her own tears started to flow all over again.
He pulled her into his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do and Tabitha went with him, letting him hug her close as her body wracked with sobs.
“Thank you for coming, baby.”
She didn’t know what to say—thanks for inviting me, didn’t seem quite appropriate—so she remained silent.
“She would have been proud of the way you turned out.”
Without any help from either of you.
Would she ever get rid of this bitterness?
She pulled away to peer at him, said “I’m glad I came.” and realized that she meant it.
“I am, too.”
“Dad…I’ll…I’ll call you sometime.”
He looked at her as if she had just made his millennium and the clog in her throat grew when he whispered, “I’d like that.”
Eric bid her father farewell, caught her hand and led her back to his Jeep at the curb.
He twined his fingers with hers and gently squeezed until she looked up at him.
“You did good, Tabby. I’m proud of you.”
“That seems to be going around”
He chuckled as he helped her into the passenger seat and they began their journey back to the city.
248
Beneath the Surface
* * * *
He wasn’t too thrilled about it but knew it had to be done, because how could he expect her to be honest and open with him, trust him, when he wasn’t being honest and open with her?
He didn’t want to be in another relationship where there were secrets between him and the other party. He didn’t want another Sinclair. He didn’t want another Jade.
EJ unlocked the door and let Tabitha into her apartment, tossed the keys up on the pegboard by the door and hung up his overcoat.
Tabitha followed suit, hanging her coat beside his then kicking off her shoes and padding to the sofa in her stocking feet. She collapsed in a corner with a loud sigh. “I’m drained.”
“I know. Me, too.”
“It’s been quite a week.”
“But we made it through.” He sat down beside her. “It was a nice ceremony.”
“Nicer than I thought it would be. Although, I’m not really sure what I expected, but that’s just like my mother. Full of surprises until the very end.”
“Are you really going to stay in touch with your father now that you know where he is?”
Tabitha shrugged, and he realized it was too soon after the funeral for her to start dealing with family reunions.
One trauma at a time, Vega. You’ve got a trip to lay on her already without
adding trying to repair a Grand Canyon deep, decades long, father and daughter rift.
She put out her arms and grinned. “Come here, you.”
He moved closer, accepted her hug, felt her soft breasts pressing against his chest and got instantly, indecorously hard.
Not now, not now!
“There’s something I have to tell you.” He pushed away from her and held her at arm’s length.
“Wow, that sounds serious, and in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve both had more than our share of that in the last several days.”
“I know, and I wouldn’t do this to you if I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“Eric, what is it?”
Rather than tell her, he reached out and scanned her.
It was difficult getting through. Even with all they’d shared, all they shared now, even with their bond, she still had her guard up, a natural wall she erected against the world. And unfortunately, the world included him.
249
Gracie C. McKeever
EJ tried again.
“Eric, are you…did you just…?”
His moment of truth. She’d either believe him or she wouldn’t. Hate him or not.
His stomach dipped at the latter, but he nudged her again, a gentle push against her barrier and this time Tabitha gaped and lurched to her feet, stumbling away from the sofa.
“You’re wondering why you felt so connected to me all of a sudden. Why it feels like fingers are caressing your mind.”
She gawked, said nothing, but he heard every thought now, loud and clear.
Instead of closing herself off, she’d dropped her armor as if she wanted him to prove himself, as if she needed him, anyone, to see her, know her insides.
“I know you don’t want to hear what I’m about to say, don’t want to believe—”
“You read minds!”
“Not all the time. Just when I drop my shields. By necessity I keep them up ninety-five percent of the time. Either that or I’d go out of my mind with all the cacophony.”
“What about the other five percent?”
“I, um…I scan thoughts. It’s like a mind-touch I use to, um—”
“This is just plain ridiculous, and if I weren’t so grief-stricken right now, I might be able to enjoy your twisted attempt at humor.”
“It’s gotten easier to scan you since we made love. You were a pretty tough nut to crack in the beginning though.”
“And this description of your…your
talents
should endear me to you? Knowing that you’ve been tinkering inside my head?”
“Now you’re wondering what kind of sick, Penn and Teller parlor tricks I’m pulling.”
She took two steps forward. “Stop it. Just stop it now. You’re talking crazy.”
“I know I should have told you sooner. I—”
“Lied to me.”
He saw her eyes change from disbelief to acceptance in the instant the accusation left her mouth and his heart dropped. “Not intentionally. My abilities just never came up.
It’s not exactly the sort of subject you can just bring up in idle conversation.”
“You had your chances,” she murmured.
“Tabitha—”
“At the hotel when we were all cozy. You wanted me to open up and give you the lowdown on
my
life, yet you weren’t willing to do the same.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
250
Beneath the Surface
“You’re not just a liar, didn’t just deceive
me
. You’re a fake.”
“What?”
“You have,
had
me, the world, fooled thinking you’re a body language expert when in fact you know what people are thinking, don’t
need
to read any facial expressions or unspoken language. You can just go the easy route, fall back on your—”
“That’s not how it is!” God, she knew how to hit him exactly where it hurt the most, attacking his ethics, his integrity, each of which he had forfeited to know a little more about her. And her allegations hurt him so much because he knew they were correct, every last one of them.
“I know exactly how it
is.
” She glared at him, hands clenched. “You’re a cheat
and
a liar.”
“Tabitha…” He paused, put his hands out palms up, flinched at the look on her face. He didn’t need to read her mind to recognize the look of someone who’d been hurt and betrayed too many times in her past. Someone who found it hard to trust and had just had their reasons—not to trust anyone, not to open up—justified.
“Is Angela like you?” she blurted.
He’d wondered when she’d ask, helplessly nodded.
“God, how many more in your family?”
“Just us two that I know of.”
“I’m sure if there were more you’d know about them.” She sneered, moving beyond incredulity and disillusionment straight to anger, and he didn’t blame her.
“You’ve done this to me before. You’ve scanned me, been in my mind.”
EJ saw the realization dawning in her whiskey colored eyes, mind clicking a mile a minute, her words clearly an accusation.
He stood and went to her, surprised when she let him catch her by the shoulders, but then he saw her face, the expression of disgust, and sensed her going suddenly, totally cold inside. She’d re-engaged her shields—armor, walls, gates, barbed wire and electric fencing—all up and locking him out.
There was a sign on the outside of her gates he could clearly read, her last thought glaring like neon:
I trusted you
.
It didn’t escape him that her meaning was in the past tense.
The thought suddenly occurred to him that Tabitha was gifted, too, just in a different way, able to block any efforts of reading her, able to stop in its path any telepathy aimed at her.
He wondered if she had any inkling, but knew better than to bring up any possibility of her own talents now. She’d probably think he was crazier than she already thought, might think he was projecting his “illness” onto her, calling her a madwoman by default.
251
Gracie C. McKeever
No, telling her would definitely do more harm than good, especially if she thought he was trying to evade the subject.
“Get out.”
Her words jolted him, at first he’d thought he was hearing her thoughts again.
EJ glanced at her, tried again for one desperate probe and she went ballistic, put her hands against his chest and pushed him towards the front door.
“Get out, get out! I want you out!”
“Tabitha, don’t use this as an excuse to break us up.”
“I don’t need an excuse.
You
did this all on your own.” She started pummeling his chest, crying and screaming at him and EJ didn’t realize he’d back-stepped to the door under her attack until he felt the solid wood against his back.
Tabitha took a deep breath, closed her eyes for several long seconds then opened them to stare at him.
The look in her eyes chilled him.
He saw the raw open wound that was her past and realized that he had hurt her more by not coming clean sooner than any cheating or infidelity ever could.
There wasn’t any hate or malice to her look. Those, he thought, he could have dealt with, but her look was one of someone betrayed—something he’d promised he’d never do to her—innocence not lost, but crushed.
“I never want to see you again, Eric.”
He turned from her—
too easily, way to easily, fight for her, Vega, fight!
—
swallowed hard as he opened the door and stepped into the outer hallway. He waited with his back turned to her, couldn’t bear to see that look of betrayal on her face again, especially knowing he had put it there.
The door closed behind him with a quiet snick, but it might as well have been an emphatic bang.