Kindred (The Watcher Chronicles #2) (25 page)

Isaiah appears almost instantly in the room and I try to pull away from Mason but he doesn’t let me.

“See you in a minute, Nick.”  Mason ends the call.  “Isaiah, would you mind turning your back to us for a minute?”

Isaiah grins knowingly and turns his back to us.

“I have to go apologize to your President for leaving so abruptly yesterday,” Mason tells me.  “But I will be back for the party tonight.”

“Was he mad you left without saying anything?”

Mason shrugs.  “Miffed would be a better word. But it was definitely worth it.  I just need to go stroke his ego some.  Make him feel like I think he’s important.”

“You don’t think he’s important?”

“He’s a blip in time as far as I’m concerned.”

“Am I a blip too?”

“No, you’re the reason time exists for me.”

I glance in Isaiah’s direction to make sure his back is still turned before showing Mason how much his words mean to me with my lips.

When I finally pull away, I tell Mason, “Please take me to Mama Lynn’s before I loose my will power to wait until tomorrow night.”

“We’re leaving, Isaiah.  Call if you need anything or if there is a change in their condition.”

Mason phases me to Mama Lynn’s front door.

“I’ll try to be quick,” he tells me.

“Play nice.”

Mason grins.  “I always play nice.”

“And don’t forget you’re supposed to bring my grandfather to the party tonight.”

He winks at me.

“I won’t forget,” he says before phasing to apologize to the President.

Mama Lynn is practically beaming with joy when I walk into her house.

“I guess George made it by here this morning?” I say to her.

Mama Lynn smiles brightly.  “Yes, he did.  He finally asked me out after 10 years of waiting.  He told me you helped him finally get the courage to do it.  What did you say to him?”

“Yeah,” Faison asks as she and John Austin are blowing up balloons with a helium tank in the living room.  “What did you tell him?”

I explain to them about how the Tear works but swear them to secrecy.  It’s not knowledge the general public knows but neither is it top secret information.

“So everyone who goes through
wants
to go through?”  Faison summarizes.

“Yes.  Apparently, that’s the way it works.”

“Then it isn’t exactly a bad thing,” she goes on to say.  “If it just takes people who want to leave the lives they have to start over fresh, maybe it’s actually good.”

“For them maybe, but I don’t think it’s always good for the people who they leave behind.  It’s selfish of them to just want a new life and leave their families and friends to pick up the pieces when their gone.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Faison agrees.

We spend most of the afternoon cooking and preparing for George’s party.  Beau is the first to arrive with the much anticipated stack of cinnamon rolls.  Faison and I both sneak one because we know they will be the first things to be eaten.

Our friends and neighbors slowly start to trickle in at around five and Mama Lynn sends John Austin out to get some more crushed ice.

By the time George arrives, the party is in full swing and Mama Lynn has already pulled out the Pictionary game.

“Where’s Mason and your grandfather?” Faison asks me.  “I thought they were going to come.”

“Mason had to go talk to the President.  I’m not sure what’s keeping him.  I thought he would be here by now.”

“The president of what?”

“The United States.”

Faison’s mouth forms a silent ‘O’.

“Of course he’s talking to
the
President, should have known.”

I pull out my phone to text Mason.

Are you all right?

I get a response almost immediately.

Sorry.  I should have texted or called.  I am fine.  He wanted me to stay for supper.  I am on my way to get your grandfather right now.  Love you.

Love you too.  See you soon.

“He had to eat supper with the President.  He’s going to get my grandfather now and be right over,” I tell Faison.

“Wow, do you think you’ll get to meet him one day?  The President?”

“Apparently it’s not as exciting as you might think,” I tell her, hating to burst her bubble.

The door bell rings and Faison gets up to answer it since she’s on door duty until John Austin gets back.

When Faison opens the door, there is a highway patrolman standing on the other side.

“I’m sorry,” Faison says.  “Are we making too much noise?  You know how rowdy kids can get now a day.”

The patrolman looks at the group of middle aged and elderly gathered in the living room but doesn’t seem to be in the mood for Faison’s joke.

“Are you Faison Mills?” He asks instead.

“Yes,” she answers hesitantly.  “Am I in trouble?”

“Ma’am, I was asked by the family of a John Austin Allen to inform you of their son’s death.  Please accept my deepest condolences.”

I walk over to the door.  Faison is still standing there with a pleasant smile on her face like she’s frozen in time.

“You must be mistaken,” she tells him, shaking her head.  “John Austin just went to get some crushed ice.  He’ll be back in just a minute.”

It’s only then I realize it’s been almost an hour since John Austin left to get the ice.  I’d been so concerned about Mason I didn’t even realize John Austin had been gone for so long.

“What happened?” I ask the trooper.

“An eighteen wheeler side swiped his truck as he was crossing Hwy 61.  He died instantly from what I know, so it was a quick death.  He didn’t feel any pain.”

“That wasn’t John Austin,” Faison tells the trooper.  “He’ll be back any minute.”

The patrolman looks to me for help in the situation.

“Thank you for coming officer,” I tell him.  “I’ll take it from here.”

He nods his understanding.  I’m sure he’s dealt with people refusing to believe him before.

Faison stands stock still.  I take her hand off the doorknob and close the door.

All has turned quiet in the house and everyone is staring at Faison.  Mama Lynn comes up to Faison and tries to put her arms around her but Faison shrugs them off.

“Don’t,” she says, turning to walk into the kitchen.

Mama Lynn and I follow her.  Faison starts to pull every drinking glass in the cabinets out and sets them on the counter in a straight line.

“Faison,” I say, but she holds up her hand silently telling me to not talk.

“When John Austin gets back, we’ll need to fill all these glasses with the ice he’s bringing.”

I watch my sister count the glasses over and over again as if she’s making sure we have enough.  I look to Mama Lynn but see she’s fighting back tears, watching her daughter helplessly as Faison completely refuses to accept what has happened to the love of her life.

I walk up to Faison and try to put my hands on her shoulders but she just knocks them off.

“Don’t touch me while I’m counting.  He’ll be here any minute and I need to make sure we have enough glasses.”

“He’s not coming, Faison,” I say, not trying to be mean or cruel but needing her to face the reality of the situation.

“He’ll be here any minute,” she argues.  “Now leave me alone.”

I put both my hands on her shoulders and force her to turn around and face me. She fights me but eventually I win.

“He’s dead, Faison.” I say.

Her eyes look glazed over like she’s trapped in a world where John Austin is only a few minutes away.  I can’t let her wall herself off in that world because I know I will loose her for good if I do.

“John Austin is dead,” I say again, trying to shock her system into accepting that fundamental truth.  “He is not coming back.  He is not bringing ice.  He is dead, Faison.”

I watch as her eyes start to refocus on my face and know she’s coming back from whatever fantasy world she was creating. 

A mask of grief contorts her features.

“He’s dead,” she says out loud, forcing the words to sink into the cracks of her broken heart.  “He’s dead!”

Faison collapses into my arms in a fit of sorrow and I bare the brunt of her weight.

I feel a pair of strong hands grab my shoulders keeping me steady so I don’t topple over.  Without even looking behind me, I know it’s Mason.  He comes up closer behind me so my back is pressed against his chest, allowing me to use him as my center while my sister, my best friend dissolves in my arms.

Chapter 20

For the next three days, I am constantly by Faison’s side.  I’ve never seen grief like hers and it breaks my heart to watch such a genteel soul suffer the way she is.  Chandler and JoJo come to offer their support to me, and I wish Faison could draw some strength from the connection we feel with one another.  I ask my friends if there’s anything they can do for Faison to ease her pain, but they pretty much tell me whatever they did would only stop her suffering for a moment.  She would still have to work through it naturally to ever find true peace and be whole again.  I know they’re right but the torment I see Faison going through seems beyond a human’s capability to deal with.

I’m not even sure she wants to be alive which worries me more than anything.  I try to put myself in her position.  How would I feel if I lost Mason?  Would I want to go on?  I don’t see how.  I would probably be just like Faison, alive but not really living. 

I feel torn between my need to continue my work with Chandler and JoJo and my desire to be there for Faison anytime she needs me.  Even though all I want to do is take care of Faison, I know I have work, which is just as important.

  Mason was my rock after John Austin’s death.  He not only helped me deal with Faison and her grief, but he also helped me cope with my own feelings of loss.  John Austin had been in my life just as long as he’d been in Faison’s, albeit not as intimately.  We all grew up together and all I can think about is the little freckle nosed boy who used to pull on Faison’s bright red pigtails in second grade trying to get her attention.

I always envied the two of them.  To be able to find your soul mate at such a young age seemed like a small miracle.  Now, it just seems like a cruel twist of fate.  They finally reached a point in their lives where they could fulfill their dream of getting married and starting a family.  Now, one of them was gone forever, never to return except in the world of dreams.

Mason held me when I needed to cry over the loss of my friend and he held me when I needed to cry because I felt like I was losing Faison too.

There are times I look at Faison and see nothing behind her eyes, like her body is with me but her mind is trapped somewhere else.  I have no idea how to help her and am clueless on how to ease her pain.

“Grief passes,” Mason told me late one night, after Faison went to bed.  “She just needs time.”

“I’m not sure she’s strong enough to get past John Austin’s death,” I replied.  “She’ll never be the same again.”

“No, she won’t be the same.  She’ll either grow from the experience or shrink from it.  There isn’t much you can do except be there for her.  She has to find a reason to live again.  You can’t give it to her.”

  On the fourth day after John Austin’s passing, I ask Mason to bring JoJo and Chandler to my house.  We need to at least try and connect with the fourth vessel, even though I fear my mental state might block our efforts like it has before. 

Faison and I are working on a puzzle of Vincent van Gogh’s
Starry Night
painting at my kitchen table when Mason phases to my house with JoJo and Chandler.  I’m usually not one to do puzzles but it seems to help Faison concentrate on something else besides her unending grief.

Faison looks up from the puzzle and notices JoJo and Chandler standing awkwardly in my living room waiting for me as Mason walks into the kitchen.

“I’m going to step outside for a little while,” she tells me, standing from her chair.

“You can stay in here while we work,” I urge her.  “It’s cold out there, Fai.”

“No, I think some fresh night air will do me good.  I won’t stay out long.”

“Don’t forget to put your coat on.”

She nods and heads to her room to get her coat.

Since John Austin’s death, Faison has been staying with me.  A part of her blames Mama Lynn for his death because she’s the one who asked him to go get the ice.  I know Faison realizes it wasn’t Mama Lynn’s fault but in her desolation she seems to need someone real to blame besides fate.

“Did she do any better today?” Mason asks me.

I stand and hug him, drawing strength from his nearness while I can.  I asked Mason to only come to the house once during the day while Faison was awake.  I didn’t want her to feel like a third wheel around us.  Plus, I feared our love would just remind her of the love she lost and throw her over the deep end.

At night, Mason would come back and sleep with me because I needed his comfort.  I needed him like I needed air or food.  It just made me understand even more the pain Faison was suffering through.  How was I supposed to help her find a way to live again when I wasn’t sure if I could under the same circumstances?

“She’s talking,” I say, resting my head on his shoulder, wishing we lived in a world where grief didn’t exist.  “That’s an improvement.”

I see Chandler and JoJo watching us from the living room.  I wasn’t able to be there for Chandler when he woke up after connecting with Chamuel.  He understood but I still felt bad about it.  Now Chandler has a perpetual pink glow around him.  I asked Michael why Chandler and JoJo had different colored auras and he told me each of the archangels would have their own special aura that only I would be able to see.  When I told Chandler he glowed pink to my eyes, he seemed a bit disappointed saying it wasn’t a very manly color.

I squeeze Mason tightly before letting him go to walk over to my friends.

JoJo hands me a bag with her designing company’s signature ‘A’ on the front.

“Mason said this would help you,” she tells me.