*
After a candy striper comes to wheel Maddie away, I am shown to the family and guests waiting room. As I wait, I have so many thoughts running through my head. I am debating if I should track Maddie’s progress. She is sedated, but I am positive I could still slip into her mind. I am just worried. What if by me doing that I cause some sort of problem? That is why I decided to stay out of Dr. Goust’s and his staffs’ minds. I do not want to do anything that may affect what they are doing in there. I need Maddie to come out of this in one piece. I need her to come back nice and strong so she can continue to care for Dominick. Leaning back in my chair, I wonder if I should just take a quick peek. I mean, what if something is going wrong right now? What if Maddie is dying and I am just sitting here? I am not that far away from the operating room, but there are way too many voices, too many distractions for me to concentrate on trying to hear what is going on in that room. As long as I have enough time to get there, I could make Maddie a vampire, I could make sure that she never has to live through something like this again. “What the hell am I thi…” Oh, I forget myself sometimes. I am not the only person in this room. I sense the eight sets of eyes in the room are gawking at me. I am in no mood to play nice; still, I resist the urge to hiss at them. Instead, I continue to stare at my neatly folded hands on my lap, and try to ignore the stares that I know are still regarding me.
Out of all of the ideas I have ever had, making Maddie a vampire by far is and will hopefully always be the dumbest. I need to concentrate on what I am going to say once Dominick arrives. I saw the conversation Maddie and Dominick had the other day when I jumped into Maddie’s mind this morning. She has been leaving details out or waiting to the last minute to tell the both of us important information. Dominick did not find out about the surgery until two days ago. This was only after she informed him that she would not be home when he returned from lacrosse camp. To say he was upset with the latest news would be an understatement. Going back and forth, she still insisted that he continued with his day as planned. He wanted to be here with her this morning, but she assured him all would be fine. She reasoned that he put all his hard earned money into the camp, so he should still go and just be dropped off at the hospital afterwards. She told him she had arranged for a ride to the hospital, and there would be someone here to make sure he made it home when he was done visiting. I played right into that part. This was all set in stone before she called me. I guess he will be very surprised to see me here. Seeing Dominick in Maddie’s mind, I find it hard to believe that he is as big as he appeared. I wonder if the image is just a little skewed—that can happen. I have seen it before, where images come across a little different than how they are in reality. I find this most common when seeing one’s thoughts through Isaac’s mind. By the time I watch them, it is on the third version and…
“Amber? Amber is that you?”
The baritone voice that sounds familiar, but has a deep tone to it has pulled me from my mindless thoughts. Knowing a male’s voice deepens with age, you would think I would have been prepared for his. Looking up from my hands that are still folded neatly in my lap, I am met by a gentleman who stands at least six foot three. He has extremely broad shoulders, looks to be two hundred and thirty pounds—all muscle, human muscle but still muscle. His lips are pulled back into a huge smile, but I can tell when they are not stretched, they are full. There are dimples in both cheeks that seem to touch the inside of his mouth. Moving up past the perfectly straight bridge of his nose, I finally come to something I have missed the most—the gleaming gray eyes, that wavy short jet black hair. Dominick—a huge version of Dominick. Perhaps, Maddie’s description was not as warped as I may have perceived. I blink my eyes slowly. He has so many traits of Lance’s, but still he is his own person. Breathing—oh yes, I should probably do that before he notices that I am not—I stand to greet him.
I am only halfway out of my seat before I am pulled into a hug. He is surprisingly strong, even for a human. “Well, hello, to you too.” I try to pull away. I do not want to hurt him, but he has me in a much tighter grip than I am used to coming from a human. Sensing the change in my body, he lets go.
“You must be the ride grandma was talking about. She didn’t have to call you.”
His eyes widen as he stops speaking. I hope nothing is wrong. Listening to his heart rate, it is beating a little faster than it should, but I think he is okay.
“I mean, I’m glad she called you, I just hope she didn’t drag you from, uhh, do you still live in North Carolina? I wanted to send you a letter with a few pictures, but grandma told me you moved and she no longer had your address.”
His memory is impeccable, and his train of thought still reminds me of the game Leap Frog. I smile and softly shake my head. I doubt I will ever get used to that. “She was correct. I no longer live in High Point, North Carolina. I’m sorry she didn’t tell you I was coming, but I’m happy to be here. I’m looking forward to spending time with the both of you. Come sit and we can catch up. I haven’t received an update from the doctors yet, but I’m hoping to hear something soon.” As we both turn to sit down, he grabs my hand. I glance up with what I am sure is a very surprised look on my face. I watch as the blood moves swiftly to his cheeks.
Giving my hand a light squeeze, he smiles back at me. “I’m glad you’re here too. I’ve missed you, a lot.”
8
Cubbyhole
Over the years my temper has been tested by being Christopher’s sister, and by living amongst warm-blooded humans. So far, I do believe that I have done well with my trials. My track record has pretty much remained squeaky clean. It is a shame that I am coming so close to throwing it all away. “For the hundredth and fourth time, no, Dominick, I do not think it is a good idea. It will be best if you go with a friend; with someone who is closer to your age.” Somehow, he is the calm one in this. Somehow, I am the one pacing the floor. Taking a slow steady breath, as if he is trying to explain a complex equation to a two year old, he rises from the chair he occupies. It is the one that is opposite from where I first sat, after he grabbed my hand, and directed me into the family room to talk.
On many occasions, since coming here, he has, done such things as grab my hand while we are walking, insisted on going to the movies, playing putt-putt golf and other outings. In a few instances, he has attempted to pull me into hugs or put his arm around me while out in public. Most of the time, I have tried to brush it off as him being friendly, but now, I am starting to question his motives. I have chosen not to read his mind. I know, I know, this tends to be a dumb move on my behalf in some cases, and this seems to be turning out to be one of those times.
This all started with a simple, ‘Hey, how was school?’ and ended up as a full blown heated debate between us. Well, it was more of a debate on my side. It seems like those calm gray eyes of his were put to work, when it came to trying to persuade me into saying yes; yes to one of the weirdest requests he has asked of me so far in my three and a half months stay. Between him and his grandmother, I do not know which one has lost their minds more. Taking a deep breath, I sit back down. Dominick is upstairs now rummaging for something in his room. I only hope he has given up on his bizarre pursuit. I love him and Maddie, I love them both more than my heart should be allowed to care for anyone. But, they are truly stressing me out. Hmm, I wonder if it is even possible to really stress a vampire out. I am confident that if I stay here much longer, I will be able to see if that theory pans out.
I close my eyes, and try to clear my mind. I am having trouble getting the question he just asked me out of my head. It was just so random, well, not random, but just not what I expected. After asking him how his day went, he pulled me into the family room and started to tell me school was good. He then explained why he liked the beginning of the year so much. He claimed the best part of the beginning of the year was Homecoming. That is when he dropped the question. That is when he turned the lovely conversation we were having into the ful
l out dispute.
“Amber, I was wondering. I know you are here for my grandmother and all.” He paused to take a breath. “I also know that once she’s home from the hospital and back to her normal self, you'll be leaving, and I'm not quite sure when I'll see you again.”
The last part of that sentence came out in a huge rush, yet somehow, he kept talking.
“So, anyways, I was kind of hoping that you would, well, um. I was kind of hoping you would come with me to my Homecoming dance. It’s next Friday.”
I did not see that coming. I sat there for a minute letting what he said sink in. I let my brain try to comprehend what this family was asking of me. Alas, once again, during this visit, I was rendered speechless. Did he just ask me out on a date? Was the only thing I could hear echoing in the back of my mind—first Maddie, and now him. Dominick sat in silence for a while before he lightly brushed my hand with his fingertips. “Amber?” Refocusing my sight on him, I heard the word come from my lips before I realized I had the strength to say it, “No”. For a while we sat in silence. I wished it would have lasted longer. As I sat like a statue, Dominick moved closer to me. I could feel his sweet breath glide across my skin.
“Why? Can you just tell me why?”
I did not know how to explain it, or how to put it. I was lost and devoid of speech. I was not sure why I was in the house, or even talking to him. In response to Dominick’s question, I shook my head. I could not speak. I left my sight shift towards the dining room. I needed somewhere to look, anywhere but at him. Why was he asking me this?
A few months ago when Maddie asked me to promise her to take care of Dominick, to possibly take him as my mate, I thought she had lost her mind. And then, a couple of weeks later, during one of those times Dominick took my hand and I glanced at him, and saw something I had not seen before. I realized I could actually be attracted to him. I have since then convinced myself that it could not be possible. I stuffed that thought along with the notion Maddie attempted to plant very far back in my mind. I locked them away with the outlook I had about being a vampire, the feelings I had for leaving my family and old life behind, and the emotions I had for Lance. There was something, screaming in my subconscious—it did every time I came around the Grayson family—that ‘I should not be here.’ It played over and over again in my brain. Still, I ignored it, and now this.
“Amber?”
My sight shifts to Dominick standing in front of me. I did not hear him come back down the stairs or enter the room. He has something in his hand. It looks to be a photograph. It has a faint scent, which brings back a lot of memories. The picture must have belonged to Lance. Dominick reclaims his chair and gazes at me. I am trying my best not to search his thoughts. The picture is facing down, so I cannot see what it is.
“I've had this for some time. As a child, it was a reminder to me of you and my grandfather. I remember you once telling me that you and my grandfather were good friends a long time ago.” He chuckles to himself, and then says, “As a kid, age doesn’t really count for much. Now, that I'm older, I'm a little puzzled.”
Flipping the picture over, my eyes leave his face and glance down at the image. It is a picture of Lance and me sitting on his front porch steps. His arm is around my waist and we are both smiling into the camera. The sun is setting in the background and we look really happy. I remember the picture clearly. It is the one and only photograph we ever took together.
The photograph was taken a few weeks before Lance and I parted ways. It was one of his mother’s better days, and Lance had just purchased her a new camera for her birthday. She was outside taking pictures of the scenery when she saw us sitting on the porch talking and decided to take a snapshot of us. I asked Lance kindly to tell his mother ‘no’. Instead, he wrapped his arm around me, pulled us closer, and whispered that it was maybe one of the last times his mother would get a chance to see him happy, and that no one would see it. I smiled, and she took the picture. He was right. Who would see it? I figured that he would have destroyed it when she was not looking. I presumed wrong.
As I reach out to touch the photo, Dominick pulls it away. If I was not so focused on the memory of that day, I would have it in my fingers right now. Looking back at Dominick's face, I find a softer side of him. I am not quite sure how, but his face seems smoother, more relaxed. His eyes are even calmer than before. It is like he has been waiting for this for a long time. I open my mouth to speak but he cuts me off.
“Is this why you’re so hesitant to be with me? Why you won’t go to the dance? Amber, I've known for years there is something different about you. I found this picture about eleven years ago. I used to stay up at night and think about what good friends you and my grandfather must have been. As I grew older, I started to wonder if there was more to it than that. And yet, as time went on, I kept thinking about you, thinking about when would be the next time I would see you. I started to realize that whatever it was that kept you away, and whatever it was that went on in this picture in the past didn't matter. I have to admit, I find it a little odd that you look exactly the same now as you did in this picture. And as time goes on, I’m looking closer and closer to the age that you aren't changing from.”
I am assuming he is pausing to give me a chance to say something, but I have nothing to say. I am a little disappointed that I have gotten myself into this mess. I am very upset with the fact that Lance kept this photograph, and I am furious with the fact that I missed this on my first visit. I thought I did a good job of searching the house to make sure such artifacts did not surface. “Where did you find it?” I point with my finger. I would like to reach out and snatch it from his hands, but I may break some of his bones in the process.
“There was a small cubbyhole in the back of my closet. It was in there. I'm not trying to upset you. I only want to understand. Amber, I have feelings for you. I have feelings that I can't ignore. I've tried. I mean how crazy does it sound? All I think about is you. The woman who seems to never age and could have possibly had some sort of relationship with my grandfather, and oh, by the way, only seems to come around when something is really wrong, like someone dying or being in the hospital for an extended amount of time.”
Despite the little bit of sarcasm in his voice, he has stayed calm and soothing throughout his speech. His face, however, is beet red and his heart is pumping very fast. I see the vein on his neck trying to leap out. I do not know how I feel. I think humans would use the word numb. I stand. There is nothing more for me to do here. I…there is something pulling on my hand. Glancing down, I find Dominick's hand holding mine and pulling on it. The tugs are light. I wonder if he knows he can pull harder. I am not like those fragile little girls he goes to school with. I take a deep breath and start to pull away, and his grip becomes stronger.
“Please sit back down. I want to talk. I want to understand.”
I feel my anger rising. I must not show him my true side. I need to leave him with the good memories, the ones we shared in the past. There will be no more memories from this point on. I have overstayed my welcome, and it is time for me to leave. I told Maddie I would stay and help, but she will understand. She has to understand. None of this was supposed to turn out this way. I was not supposed to fall in love with Lance's family. I was not supposed to become the go-to for Lance's wife. I was not supposed to make his grandson have feelings for me. And I was not supposed to have feelings for his grandson, either. Maybe that is why my body needs to run. It is not right. This is Lance’s family, the family I made sure he had. The one I could not give him. No matter how Lance's family feels for me and no matter what I feel for them, I must make this right. Even if somewhere in my mind there is a small voice saying ‘why fight it?’. “Dominick, please let go of my hand. I don't want to hurt you.” Turning my head, I glare at him. His luminous gray eyes are full of questions. “Listen, I'm going to tell you this and I want you to understand. What you feel for me, no sorry, what you think you feel for me is nothing m
ore than teenage hormones, an obsession of the mind for something that will never be. I'm sorry if I’ve in any way guided you to this point, but let's get this straight. You need to find someone your own age. Not someone who you think looks your age. There are plenty of regular girls out there for you. I will not be going to the dance or anywhere else with you. Please tell your grandmother that I am truly sorry, I must be taking my leave. I wish her the best in her recovery.” Saying that, I tug and my hand releases from his firm warm one.
I must leave this place now. I do not want to take the few seconds to go upstairs to pack my belongings. I do not need them. I do not want them. What I do want is to be out of the house, to be away from this property, and to be out of this state.
“Amber, please wait.”
I stop and glower. His eyes look moist, like he is trying very hard to hold back tears. “No, do you not comprehend what I am telling you? This.” I lift my hand and wave it between the air separating us. “This will never be. I don't care what warped illusions you have running through your brain. I will not be a part of it. Look, kid, go and find yourself a girl, find a couple of girls. Do what other boys your age do, and forget I ever existed.”
Not giving him a chance to speak, I turn and move quickly, maybe a little quicker than a human would, to my car. I am surprised he has not tried to follow. Thankfully he does not seem as stubborn as his grandfather. I probably would have had to hold Lance in place to keep him from following me. Starting my car, I know I should make a stop at the hospital and tell Maddie goodbye. It may be the last time I ever see her, save I cannot. I need to go. My head feels as if there is nothing but pressure building up, and I cannot think straight right now. It will not be wise for me to be around such fragile humans. It is probably not a good idea for me to be driving either, nonetheless I do not want to risk leaving my car here for now, and chance running into Dominick again. Not to say I need my car, I just really like it, and do not want to have to replace it, along with all the other items I have left in my haste.
I push the gas pedal down hard and watch the speedometer reach one hundred miles per hour. I need to get off the main streets. There are too many people and other moving objects that I can hit. I need to find somewhere to park so I can feed. Blood will help clear my mind. The faster I get something warm in my body, perhaps the better I will feel. And possibly the sick churning feeling in my stomach will go away. I did not know I could feel this way. I do not recall feeling anything like this since that night that I became a vampire. I believe it is called being queasy. But why? I am doing the right thing. I am positive…I have to be. What else could be right? There are no other options. I cannot let there be any other options. Pushing the gas pedal to the floor, I start to count down the seconds before I hit the city line, before I hit the state line, before I am back where I need to be. Back home.
9
Pinched Lips
I am thankful to be back home—home, what a funny concept. In the last two hundred or so years of me being a vampire, I have only talked about the word home a few times. Never once did I refer to the vampire family or living quarters within the same context of home until more recently. Over the span of my second life, I was fooling myself. I have tried so hard to avoid my true essence, to avoid what I am now. I have been in denial of what was real. I am a vampire. I live with four other vampires who love and care for me. I may not be like most of our kind with the abilities I transformed with, but I am still in every ways the same as the rest of my species. Knowing this and saying this has helped me to acknowledge I was correct in my actions. That I should not feel bad for leaving the Grayson's the way I did. Yes, saying this, reminding myself of this, has helped me get through the grief and what if's that have been flying through my head since I stormed from their house.
“Are you almost ready?” I am waiting in Christopher’s car. He and Lisa are in the house kissing each other like they will never see one another again. Sighing, I try not to search either one of their minds to see what is taking so long. In hopes of staying in one place a little longer, we have pushed our ages back as far as we can. Christopher and I are both attending high school and Lisa is in college. Because of my stay with the Graysons, I missed the first month and a half of school. Not that it matters, I was able to catch up once I returned home, but now Christopher is going to make us late...again.
I never thought about it before, but Dominick and I are in the same grade. Granted, this is my twelfth time in the eleventh grade, and it is his first and only. Shoot, there I go again. I told myself I needed to put him out of my head. I cannot think about him. Well, anyways. I am a junior, Christopher is a senior, and Lisa is a sophomore in college. This of course gets Christopher nothing but “cool” points with all of the high school kids. All the girls like and want to be with him. And all the guys envy him because he is dating an older woman. Hmph, if they only knew the truth. I do have to say, I am pretty proud of him, he is doing an excellent job of ignoring all the attention he receives from the girls.
I lean my head on the passenger side seat and close my eyes. He is only taking his time now because I said something. I should walk to school, well, run, but I have on a new pair of heels, and I would rather not wear down the heel too quickly. The family is surprised that I still have not gone out to buy a new car. I am even surprised with myself. Needless to say, I really do not need one when Christopher can drive me anywhere. Sighing again, I think about how my precious car met its demise.
I did not head straight home after leaving the Grayson's. Driving aimlessly around for fifty-seven hours, nineteen minutes and seventeen seconds at one hundred and twenty mph, my engine died. A few hours before then, I heard something funny, like a ticking noise but still continued to drive. When the stupid car came to a rolling stop I got out grabbed something to eat a few miles away, then came back to clean and remove any personal items that may have raised more questions than answers to the humans that came upon it. I should have just left the car parked in the Grayson’s driveway. Whatever. I will get around to buying a new one.
Ah, here he comes. I detect his feet moving across the gravel. He is moving very slowly. I feel sorry for my family during the day when they are out in direct sunlight. They claim it does not hurt any, but considering how slow they move, it just seems as if it does. Thankfully today, the sun is hiding behind the clouds. Christopher’s sluggish pace reminds me of someone who pulled a muscle and is afraid to move too much to help alleviate some of the pain. If or when Christopher is questioned—which is not often—he tells most people he was in a car accident and at times he has flare-ups. Most buy it. I guess it can be believable. Most humans will not put two and two together and realize that he only moves this slow during the day. He, like the rest of the family, try to stay indoors while the sun is out. He will still move at a dawdled pace, but it will not be as slow when he is in direct daylight.
As my brother climbs in the car, I open my eyes and sit up. “If you didn't want to go to school today, that’s all you had to say. I could have just taken myself.” Rolling his eyes, he starts the car and begins to back out the driveway.
“And you could go buy your own car and stop depending on me to drive you back and forth to school. What's wrong with your legs? Last time I checked, the sunlight didn't seem to affect you as it does me. You could have ‘walked’”.
Thrusting his hands in the air, slowly, to make quotations around his walked, I shake my head and turn to look out the window. He hates being away from Lisa for too long. He would rather skip the whole school thing, but he also knows that we will need to pack up and move a lot sooner if we do not pretend to be younger.
Christopher is not driving as fast as he typically does. I glance at the gauge and find that he is obeying the speed limit. My sight then shifts to his face to find his brow is scrunched. I cover my mouth with my hand to stop the giggle from slipping between my lip
s. I do not think I have ever seen such a concentrated look on his face. It is one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Removing my hand from my mouth, I try to speak but still feel a giggle trying to escape. “What's going on? You look like your trying to make your eyebrows touch.” His face relaxes and the rest of his body follows suit. First his shoulders—they were almost up to his ears--now his back. Leaning against the seat he looks less like an old person trying to see while driving and more like a teenager out for a joyride.
“How about we skip school today?”
I look at him with my head cocked slightly to the side. Where could he be going with this? Things have been a little different between us since he brought Lisa into the family. The feelings are still there for me, yet it seems like they are able to be hidden with the feelings he has for Lisa.
His head turns and our eyes meet. The green and gold flecks invite me in, they draw me closer.
“Amber?”
His mental voice pulls me from my trance. Sitting back in my seat, I refocus on his face.
“Can I ask you something without you getting angry? I'm sure I know the answer but I just need to be positive.”
Trying not to fixate on his eyes, I nod.
“You and I, we will never be, am I correct?”
I start to open my mouth, but he holds his hand up and pinches my lips together.
A slight frown crosses his mouth but he quickly smoothes it out. “All right, the look on your face said it all. I have my answer.”
Taking a deep breath, he turns his head back to the road and pushes the gas pedal down and we begin to pick up speed. His fingers are still holding my lips closed and we have just missed the turn to the school. I guess we are not going to class today. I try to pull my lips free but he only holds down tighter. I find a smirk on his face, he is enjoying this. That is fine, he will pay for it later. I give him a pressed-lip smile—even under the pressure he is trying to retain I am still stronger, he knows it and releases me.
“Yes, it was worth it and I'm sure I'll pay for that later. Will you promise to hold off on the retaliation until we get back home?”
In response, I lean back further into the seat and play the guessing game of where we are going. We have just passed the welcome to Worthington, Ohio sign.
Not driving long on I-270, Christopher turns off at the Reynoldsburg exit. I glance at him but I am assuming he is going to remain silent. He went back into deep thought after our little conversation. Making a few turns, he begins the slow the car. We are pulling into a jewelry store parking-lot. I turn back to look at him, now it is my turn to try and make a uni-brow. As he parks the car, his green eyes search my face. There are so many emotions playing on his face: excitement, nervousness, joy, and sadness. Could I be reading him correctly? Without speaking, he gets out of the car. I go to open my door but he gives me a stern look as he gradually walks around to my side. The door swings open and he reaches out for my hand. As I take his, he smiles.
“Have you figured it out yet? I was trying really hard not to think about this so it would be a surprise when we got here.”
“I decided not to peek. I figured if you wanted me to know you would have come out and told me. What’s going on?”
Turning, he begins to pull me towards the building.
“What do you think is going on? I love Lisa. Besides what I feel for you, I have never felt this way about anyone. I know that you and I will never be and I'm okay with that.”
“Christopher, are you trying to tell me what I think you’re trying to tell me?” My voice cracks ever so lightly and Christopher grins.
“Only you would have made that statement sound so weird. Yes, Amber, I'm trying to tell you that I want to ask Lisa to marry me. And I need my favorite sister in the whole wide world to help me pick out a ring.”
I am really sucking at this mind reader thing. I have once again come up surprised. Looking at my brother, I smile and give his hand a little squeeze as we walk into the building.
“May I help you?”
An elderly lady wearing a dark-navy suit walks over to greet us at the door.
“Yes, we're looking for an engagement ring.”
She smiles at us as her eyes follow our arms down to our entangled hands before she turns to head over to the showcase. This would normally bother me, but right now, I am fine with it since I know the reasoning behind it. Christopher is nervous. There are very slight tremors coming from his body. I have to say, I never saw Christopher making this step. He has always been such a playboy. I always wondered if he would find the right girl to tie him down.
Opening the showcase, the saleslady pulls out a one-third carat white gold ring. Christopher and my faces scrunch in unison. She must think we are a young couple looking to get married and have little money.
“Can we see something a little bigger? Do you have anything in a twelve carat platinum band, princess cut?”
Hmm, he has done his homework. The saleslady is staring at Christopher as if he has lost his mind. “Christopher, that’s way too big. Maybe something in a platinum band, princess cut, five carat. It's simple but not too big.” The clerk stares at us for a second, I wager she is trying to figure out if either we are going to rob her or we are both insane. Choosing to take a chance with us, she walks further up the showcase and pulls out four rings, all five carats in different settings. The first is just a plain band. The second has two smaller diamonds on either side. The third has two bands coming together with six small diamonds connecting on the sides and coming towards the middle where the larger diamond sits. The fourth shows small diamonds going around the whole band, and in the middle where the diamond sits, the stone is being circled by more diamonds going around the outer ring. Both our eyes stop on that one. Seeing this, the saleslady starts to put the others away.
“What do you think?” Christopher's voice is softer than normal.
“It's stunning,” I say.
“Can she try it on?”
“Sure,” says the associate.
My head shoots up when I realize they are talking about me.
“Try it on, Amber, it should be the right size.”
The saleslady lifts the ring from the stand and hands it to me. I am shocked to see my hand shake ever so slightly as I reach to grab the ring. Gliding the ring on, it slides onto my ring finger with a perfect fit. As I bring my hand up to let the light hit the diamonds at all angles, Christopher’s arm slides around my waist, and he pulls me closer. His cool breath gently brushes my neck and collarbone as he examines the ring.
The clerk steps back and lets us admire the band. The ring is striking. As my sight shifts from my hand to my brother, our eyes lock and something silent passes between us. Something that words cannot explain. I close my eyes and exhale. At the same moment, Christopher does the same. He lightly rubs my arm and I believe he is trying to get my silent attention.
“Are you sure?”
There is more to that question, more that I am not willing to answer. Before reopening my eyes, I take one more cleansing breath. “Yes, you should get it.”
In response, Christopher reaches up to slide the ring off my finger. As his finger tips lightly touch my skin, I open my eyes.
“We'll take this one,” he says and pulls away from me to get the money out of his wallet. It sounds silly but the moment he moved, I felt a chill travel down my right side. My arms wrap around my mid-section, as I move back and begin to busy myself with other shiny things in the store while he pays. Maybe it is time for a new pair of earrings.