Wanderlove (7 page)

“Oh, I didn’t realize. . .that’s nice.” My voice went limp.

I turned to leave, heading in the direction of the kitchen, but the strangest thing happened after she finished speaking. It was like the pit of my stomach dropped out from under me. I didn’t understand what was happening or why I felt like I did, so I quickly left the living room to get out from Miriam’s sight.

I didn’t go back to the kitchen to finish my lunch. I ran straight up the stairs to my bedroom, as fast as I could. As soon as I closed the door and latched it shut, I fell to my knees, sliding down the wall.

It felt like I couldn’t breathe. It felt like my heart was beating so hard that it might explode from the inside of my chest.

My God, I’m having a panic attack
, I thought to myself.

I couldn’t place it, couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. Why was I reacting this way? What had Miriam said that was so wrong?

I closed my eyes to focus on my breathing. In the past, these sorts of reactions had been triggered out of the blue. Something in me just snapped. Auntie Zetta told me it was probably due to my incapability to remember my past lives. She told me certain words, phrases or occurrences could bring something out in me that I felt on a more basic instinct. She had also provided me with steps to calm myself and to focus, in case I might stumble upon an old memory.

Carefully, I lied down across the woven rug in my bedroom, spreading my arms and legs out like DaVinci’s Vitruvian Man. Zetta’s soothing voice filled my mind, repeating the steps for me.

Step One: Close your eyes.

This step mainly allowed me to tune out any distractions.

Step Two: Focus on breathing and clear your mind.

I breathed in. I breathed out. I allowed my mind to think of nothing except my breathing, until it slowed to a normal pace. Zetta called this step meditation. She said you couldn’t begin to focus until your mind was a clean palette.

Step Three: Allow yourself to acknowledge what you’re feeling.

I tried to allow myself to feel, without it taking over me again. What emotions had enveloped me earlier? I think they came from a source of pain, but I couldn’t be sure.

I shouldn’t be trying to think. Zetta told me not to think during this part of the process. She told me I needed to
feel
what was bothering me first. I had to feel it, in order to figure out my thought process.

So I attempted to feel whatever the emotion was once again…and then I figured it out. It was
betrayal
. I felt
betrayed
to my very core.

As thoroughly confusing as that new information was, I didn’t let myself ponder on the reason for the betrayal.

Step Four: Let your thoughts develop from within.

This part was the trickiest. I always seemed to give up before I could hear myself think anything. But I was focused, and I had to see this out. I focused on the betrayal, allowing myself to feel it on every level of my being.

It was a long time before I was able to hear the words come to me. In fact, by the time I heard anything, tears had formed in my eyes due to this horrible sense that I had been wronged. When I finally did hear myself think the thoughts, I wasn’t positive I had heard myself correctly because it was just the barest of a whisper.

Mine
, I thought,
Gabe is mine
.

Most of the night I spent curled up in bed, trying not to think about anything. If my own thoughts didn’t make sense anymore, I figured I should probably think about nothing for a while. It didn’t really work.

The house was extremely hot tonight. The knob on the fan was turned all the way up to full blast, but it wasn’t helping very much. I pinched the thin fabric of my silky tank top away from me, but my skin was sticky with sweat and the material simply clung back to my body as soon as I let go of it.

I emerged from my bed to open the window, hoping there might be a cool breeze somewhere in the balmy air tonight. As I did, I noticed Annika’s black Mazda pulling into the driveway. She slammed her car door shut and ran inside the house. She raised her sleeve to her eyes. It appeared as if she were wiping away tears.

I knew I should probably go back to bed, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. I quietly snuck downstairs and waited in the stairwell beside the kitchen. A moment later, I heard her come in, overwrought with emotion. Miriam was already waiting for her there. She usually did whenever Annika came home late.

“Anni, my dear girl, what happened?” Miriam asked worriedly.

I peeked out of doorway, just a tiny bit, so I wouldn’t intrude upon them.

Annika’s green eyes glittered with tears. Her long, blonde hair was tousled and her clothes looked rumpled. She was a mess, which, for Annika, was extremely unusual. Normally, she kept an impeccable appearance, without even the slightest hair out of place.

“He broke it off, Grams. Gabe doesn’t want to marry me anymore.”

Miriam took Annika in her arms. She patted her head soothingly and stroked her hair, in only the way a loving grandmother could. Annika cried in small, quiet sobs.

“There, there, child. Everything will be alright.”

“No, it won’t,” Annika murmured in a broken voice. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I never even saw it coming.”

Annika suddenly pulled away. She stared at Miriam strangely for a moment. “You’re not asking me why he called it off. Why?”

Miriam held her breath for a moment too long.

“You know something!” Annika cried. “Don’t toy with me, Grams. If you’re not telling me something--”

“Anni, stop it. What could I possibly know?”

Annika tilted her head in contemplation. She seemed uneasy. “You’ve known the Constantins for a long time. And I know that family has hidden secrets.”

Miriam sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t know any secrets, Anni. Now, I know you’re upset. But you really need to try and calm down.” She motioned Annika towards a stool. “Sit, and I’ll pour you a glass of iced tea.”

Annika obeyed despondently, while Miriam searched for glasses.

“Now tell me what he said.”

Annika shrugged. “He didn’t say much,” she said bitterly. “He told me that he cared for me, but wasn’t in
love
with me. He said this marriage wouldn’t be fair to either of us. Better to break it off now.”

Miriam took the tea pitcher out of the refrigerator and brought it to the island. She poured the liquid slowly. “That’s strange,” she remarked. “Has he never told you he loves you before?”

Annika shook her head. “Now that I think about it, no, he hasn’t.” She raked her hands through her blonde hair, clearly in frustration. “Was it all a lie, Grams? I always thought he showed his love for me in other ways. I just assumed since Gabe was such an introverted person, he just wasn’t capable of saying many words of love. I assumed his proposal of marriage was a clear indication of his feelings. Obviously, I was mistaken.

“And I was the one who pushed him into this wedding…God, how could I have been so blinded? All I was thinking about was how my picture-perfect life was finally coming together. I never stopped to question how he truly felt about me, or anything, for that matter.”

Annika broke down again in a choked sob.

I couldn’t listen to any more of this conversation. A nonsensical flood of relief rushed through to the very core of me. I was disgusted with myself. What was wrong with me? Why was I relieved to hear Annika’s news of her tragic broken engagement?

The poor girl. I felt awful, and at the same time, I felt comforted. Someone seriously needed to lock me away-and then throw away the key! I had to be the most deranged person in the world.

What was worse was that even though I was having trouble sleeping before, this time around I was able to fall straight to sleep as soon as my head touched the pillow, with no concerns over the heat.

Breakfast was dreadfully awkward. Annika and I sat around the large island in the kitchen while Miriam chopped up an assortment of colorful fruits and scrambled egg whites on the stove. Besides the noises Miriam was making from cooking, the room was quiet.

Trying to lighten the mood, I teased Miriam. “Don’t you have any bacon?” I asked.

“Bacon causes wrinkles,” was her surly reply.

After rolling my eyes, I took a moment to steal a glance at Annika. Surprisingly, she appeared well rested. There were no fatigued circles under her eyes. Her cheeks looked rosy, her hair polished and her clothes wrinkle-free. She held her head high, the same persona of the banal detective I'd come to know. It was almost as if last night never happened.

Almost.

She was unusually anxious. She only sipped at her coffee, drumming her fingers against the porcelain mug and not saying a word. I could tell she was ready for breakfast to be over. Suddenly, I really wished Dakota were here. I was positive that Dakota’s carefree nature could ease any tension.

I cleared my throat, trying my best to break the ice. “So Annika, how’s your case going?”

My question broke her silent trance, cutting into her thoughts.

“It’s going well,” she replied after clearing her throat. “I had a dream last night about an important detail, which I believe might lead me to some vital evidence.”

“Oh?” I tried to keep the obvious amazement out of my voice. “Could you tell me about it? I mean, if you’re allowed to discuss the details?”

I was in awe over both Annika and Dakota’s abilities. When it came to the special sight other gypsies were blessed with, I was continually astounded. And I supposed I was a little envious, as well. I hated how television depicted most psychics to altering degrees of craziness. Because in real life, they are such amazing and brave souls.

“Yeah, I mean, sure. I don’t mind.” The tone of her voice demonstrated she was relaxing to some extent. I believe she welcomed the conversation. Annika seemed to truly enjoy her job and liked to talk about it. Not to mention she would probably discuss anything rather than to be left alone to dwell on her broken heart.

“A few weeks ago, the Frightwell and Black’s Academy was broken into. It was a very strange and curious robbery.”

“Wait a second,” I interrupted. “Is this the same private school Miriam has enrolled me for the fall semester?”

Annika nodded. “Yes, I believe so. It’s the same high school Dakota and I attended.”

I raised an eyebrow at Miriam, who was listening from the stove. “Grams, do you hear what kinds of things are happening at this school to whom you’re giving all your money?”

Miriam snorted. “Frightwell and Black’s happens to be the best school in this county. You just hush up and appreciate the higher education I have privileged you with. Or would you rather attend a public school? You do realize that academically, Florida is one of the lowest-performing schools in this country, don’t you? You should be thanking your lucky stars. Now you won’t have to learn mathematics by the counting cockroaches along the walls.”

“That’s very snobbish of you, Grams.”

“I find it considerate,” she replied.

“Annika just mentioned that Frightwell was broken into recently.”

“I heard her, Lo. But thank you for reiterating.”

I ignored Miriam’s quip and motioned for Annika to continue her story. “She obviously has no real concern for my well-being, as I long as I learn something in the process.”

Annika chuckled; the look of desolation seemed to be retreating from her eyes. “So anyway,” she continued. “The theft was curious because the thieves had taken some very random things. They stole mostly documents from the main offices at the school. And the students’ records were trifled with. There were papers scattered all over the room. The poor secretary, I thought she was going to choke with horror at when she saw the mess she would have to re-organize.”

“How bizarre,” I commented. “So what was your dream about?”

“Well, I dreamed that whoever this thief was dropped something while he or she was there. I believe this clue will lead me to find the identity of the thief. And from the tone of my dream, I’d bet there is more to this than meets the eye.”

“Where did you see this item being dropped?” I asked curiously.

Annika shrugged. “That, I am not sure about. I need to go down to the school today and check out the offices. In my dream, I saw something wedged in between a large machine, like a printer or fax machine.”

“Wow, well, I hope you find it,” I told her sincerely. “Whatever the strange clue may be.”

She smiled. “Thanks. Me too.”

“Breakfast is ready,” Miriam informed us and then stockpiled our plates full of fruit and egg whites. “Nutritious and low calorie. Another year I don’t have to retire the swimsuit, eh, Anni?”

“Of course, Grams. And you still look fantastic in it,” Annika praised. As an aside to me, she said, “She has only recently retired her bikini. She was devastated all last summer about it.”

“I’m sure she was,” I said, laughing. “Can you tell me where she hides the peanut butter, at least?”

“In the pantry. Third shelf.”

“Awesome!”

Miriam clicked her tongue as I opened the pantry door.

“I am going to have to take small steps, Grams, before completely jumping on board to your health-crazed life style.”

“In all seriousness, you probably shouldn’t. You look like you have slimmed down quite a bit in the short time you’ve been here.”

I looked down at my body. “Really?” I asked excitedly. I lay my hands across my hips. They did seem slightly smaller.

“Lo, I don’t think I’m doing you any favors. Your curves are a part of your heritage.”

I groaned at her comment. And she knew exactly why.

“One day you will appreciate all the attention much more than you do now,” she said.

I wasn’t ashamed of my body. I loved my curves, especially when I danced with Lina. My curves made me feel feminine. But at the same time, I hated all the attention that came with it. I’d never been viewed as the typical teenager I was supposed to be viewed as, and that was due to the fact that I didn’t look like one.