Page 19 of Bear With Me
My eyes round and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not sure what you mean,” I say.
“Of course you do, dear. I’m talking about your gift.” I look away as she continues. “I’m assuming you received it after your mother died.”
I nod, but I don’t say anything. “I’m so sorry that there wasn’t anyone there to help guide you through that. I’m certain she wouldn’t have wanted that for you.”
“So she knew?” I can’t help but ask.
“Of course she did. She received hers around her eighteenth birthday, too.”
“Could she…did she have the same abilities I do?”
Nonna sits on one of the bar stools and leans her elbows on the kitchen counter. “Everyone’s gifts are a little different, just like each person is different. She was especially talented at mind reading, which is part of the reason why she left. She couldn’t handle how sad I was after your grandfather died. I couldn’t let it go and I wasted away with grief.”
So that explains the memory I had of her when I first got here. My heart aches for them both because they never got to mend that rift. I don’t want the same to be said for us, so I take the seat next to her at the bar.
“I always thought she could tell when I was lying,” I confide.
Nonna laughs fondly. “It’s not a fair gift, that’s for sure, though I imagine it came in handy raising you and your brother. So tell me, what is yours?”
I can’t believe we’re having this conversation, but I feel lighter with each word. Knowing that there’s someone out there like me, that I still have that connection with my mother, is priceless. “I’m not sure what you would call it, exactly, but when I touch something, it can be a person or something simple like a set of keys, I can sense their memories.” I hesitate before saying, “Like when I got here, I saw you and mom arguing when she left.”
She nods. “I regret that day very much.”
I lay a hand on her arm. “I know you do. And I know that if she were here she’d be glad that we are here with you.”
“I’m glad you’re here, too.” She pats my hand. “This is the only thing I’m going to say on the matter, but I hope you take it to heart. Don’t make my mistake. Don’t let so much time pass that you aren’t able to go back. If Declan is the person you want to be with, then you shouldn’t give up, no matter what.”
I wish things were that easy. No matter how many times I call or go by, he doesn’t want to talk to me and I start to wonder if there isn’t something else that he isn’t telling me.
chapter eight
SULLY
It happened on the way to my internship at the Chronicle a couple weeks later. It caught me so off guard I could have been shot and it wouldn’t have caused as much of a shock.
I was focused on blowing the steam from my cappuccino, so I didn’t see him until it was too late to hide. I look up and find his brown eyes from a few doors down and a shock reverberates through my body. He pauses where he’s unlocking the door to his shop, one hand frozen on the knob. My own fingers clutch the uncomfortably hot coffee cup and my feet are rooted to the cracked sidewalk.
His hand falls from the doorknob and he takes a hesitant step towards me. A bud of hope blooms in my chest and steals the breath from my lungs. In spite of everything Sam and Nonna have said over the past few weeks and in spite of my own pep talks, a voice in my head has a short prayer on repeat. My mouth opens and closes.
I finally make up my mind to cross the few shop fronts between us and make amends,do something, when he seems to come to his senses. His hand goes back to the knob, twists, and he sends one last long look over his shoulder before he disappears into the dark recesses of his store.
I take a step backward like I’ve been dealt a physical blow and damn if it doesn’t feel like it. This is why girls like me stay in our safe little bubbles with our predictable lives. Mysterious, handsome strangers aren’t worth the risk, no matter how good they can kiss.
Giving myself a shake, I step into the office and greet Michelle at the desk. Staff is minimal today due to the incoming storms. The normally bright and boisterous newsroom is eerily quiet. So quiet that I can hear the hum from the fax machine and the tapping of the few people who are at their desks. The whole room is darkened by the bruised clouds rolling in.
As I make my way toward my desk I’m grateful I only have to do a couple hours’ worth of busy work before I can leave. I’d hate to get caught out in a thunderstorm.
Leroy spots me immediately and beelines for my desk. His tie is especially atrocious today, a puke and burnt orange creation which looks like it came straight out of the eighties.
“Great!” he says, running his fingers over his mustache. “We’ve just received the coroner’s report for the Swift River girl’s murder. Apparently it was some kind of animal mauling. Give me a report on recent animal attacks in the area, then go down and take some pictures of the crime scene for me before the weather gets too bad.”
I glance out the window at the increasingly black sky and mask my frown. “Right away, sir.”
Hannah, another one of the lucky students from Hastings offers to help, but I brush her off. Searching the Chronicle’s database for previous attacks shouldn’t take me long.
My workspace isn’t much more than a miniature desk crammed into a corner, but I’d managed to brighten it up with cute little baskets and bright colors. A picture of my parents sits right next to my laptop.
As I search the database, I take a quick sip of coffee, burning my tongue. The search returns over thirty results, the majority of which seem to be regarding small animal attacks. Snakes, insects and spiders. A shiver skates down my spine at the thought of traipsing through the forest with them later, but I brush that off.