The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted (48 page)

Aimee pleaded, “Can we go to your house?”

“Sure. Sure thing. But don’t you want to go in and speak to your dad first? He has been freakin’ out of his mind the past couple of hours. Man, I’ve never seen him so rattled.”

“Nope. Not tonight. I’ll call him from your house,” she reluctantly promised.

“Give me a sec, okay?” Dylan asked as he stepped out of the car, then looked back in. “I want to go let them know we’re leaving.”

In a few minutes Dylan returned. He slid back into the driver’s seat. “I’ll leave my FJ here tonight.” He turned the key, and they backed out and headed towards Dylan's house.

Dylan held Aimee's hand tightly and guided her into the kitchen. Mrs. Lane was rinsing dishes and filing them orderly into the dishwasher. Paul sat at the kitchen table eating and reading the paper. He was still in his business clothes, but his shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was lying on the other end of the table. Both looked up suddenly.

“Well, hello there, Aimee,” Mrs. Lane greeted warmly. “Can I get you something to drink?” She was so gracious whenever Aimee visited. She always had something to drink or eat to offer. Aimee wondered why Dylan didn’t weigh a ton with a mother who was such an awesome cook. Paul was busy chomping down a big bowl of chili. He leaned back in his chair, removed his glasses setting them on the table, and pulled out the chair next to him.

“Well, Aimee, it’s nice to see you. Come have a seat and let Dylan get you a bowl of Jill’s delicious chili.” Paul patted the chair, wiped his mouth, then took a big swig of his beer.

“Thanks, Mr. Lane…” she started, but he immediately interrupted.

“No, please, call me Paul. You’re practically family. We aren’t uppity here.” He smiled broadly and patted the seat of the chair again.

“Well, thank you…Paul.” Aimee paused awkwardly on his name before she spit it out, then she sat down. She obviously wasn’t comfortable yet calling Dylan’s parents by their first names, even if they did think of her as family. She turned back and diplomatically tried to decline the bowl of chili Mrs. Lane was ladling up. Dylan quickly jumped in and rescued Aimee after her helpless look.

“Mom, Aimee’s not hungry, but I’ll take it.” He grabbed the bowl and two bottles of water and joined Aimee and his stepdad at the table.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Lane came over with a glass of tea and sat down. They stayed at the table talking and laughing for at least an hour. Despite having had the worse day of her life, Aimee was enjoying herself. It was the first time she had really visited with Mr. and Mrs. Lane since she and Dylan started dating. They seemed real. Nothing phony. Aimee no longer could imagine them with any deep, dark family secrets like her family possessed. Finally, Mrs. Lane glanced at the clock, gathered up the dirty dishes, and moseyed over to the sink to finish cleaning up. Aimee offered to help her, and they continued chatting a few more minutes. Aimee really liked Mrs. Lane. She was like Dylan; friendly, upbeat, and easy to talk to. When the last glass was in the dishwasher, she locked it, turned it on, and informed Paul it was time they went to bed.

After everyone said their goodnight’s, Dylan snatched Aimee's hand and motioned with his head towards the entertainment room. “Wanna watch some TV?”

“Sure.”

“You’ve gotta be hungry. Want something to eat first?”

“Nope. I don’t feel like eating.” Aimee faked a convincing smile despite an empty, rumbling stomach.

They wandered through the house, but didn’t stop at the entertainment room. Instead they continued up the stairs to Dylan’s room. As soon as they entered it, he found the remote, flipped on the TV, kicked off his shoes, crawled up on the bed and stretched out. He patted the bed for Aimee to join him, just like Paul had done earlier in the kitchen. She snickered, kicked off her shoes, and crawled up in bed with him. Her body melted willingly into his, and she cradled her head against his chest. She laid there perfectly still for a long time listening to his heart beat and savoring his sweet scent. She smiled to herself. It was just as she had done with her mother only hours earlier.

Suddenly she craved more. Unquenchable desire seized her, and she couldn’t wait. She took him by surprise. Her lips sought his like a heat-seeking missile, and she kissed him passionately. First, his soft lips, then his neck, and before she could travel any further he gave in. All of the craziness and tension Aimee had endured needed to be released. The urgency was evident in her kisses, and he didn’t resist.

After coming up for air, Dylan looked at Aimee bewildered. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can just lay here and I’ll hold you. Or we can talk…” he paused and peered down into her face. She returned his offer with a
not even gonna happen
stare. He shrugged. “…or not. We can just lay here and watch TV.”

“I don’t wanna talk about anything tonight, and
sooo
not interested in TV.” Aimee grabbed the
remote and hit the Off button. “The only thing I want tonight is you.” Her look didn’t need explaining.

“Yes, ma’am. Your wish is my command.” Dylan laughed lightly, then obeyed melding his delightful body into Aimee's. …

…Soft light billowed in between the partially drawn slats of the plantation blinds and warmed the room. Even in her sleep, Aimee sensed he was missing. Gradually she came out of slumber and drifted back into consciousness. Aimee turned over and slid a hand over the empty spot where Dylan should have been. She opened her eyes. He was gone. Aimee rolled onto her back and stretched, pulling the sheet up over her bare body. It felt cool, luxuriously soft like expensive Egyptian cotton. She sniffed the edge. Dylan’s scent filled her nose.

“Mmmm,” she purred.

Lazily she laid there lost in thought, enjoying all of the details of the previous night with Dylan, but it didn’t take long before yesterday’s journey, and all of its implications, dragged her back into her world; the world of weirdness, deceit, lies, and unworldly truths. No matter how much Aimee wanted to believe she could be normal, that her life was capable of being normal, she
now realized that would
never
happen. She was what she was; a freak of nature in this world.

Aimee
was
a time traveler!

The good news was she absolutely, positively knew her mother was alive. The bad news was her mother had been forcibly hidden away eighteen years ago somewhere from everyone, that is, except the few family members involved in her commitment.

Aimee
had
really seen her! It wasn’t her warped imagination. Her mother apparently had been
imprisoned in a mental institution because she revealed a dark secret to others, a secret too unbelievable to those who don’t possess its power. She was a time traveler, too, and now Aimee knew she wasn’t the only freak in this world.

Even worse than thinking her mother was dead her entire life when she was very much alive, was not knowing the real truth about her dad, who had been, besides Chelsea, Aimee's most trusted and best friend. He wasn’t just a horrible, deceitful liar. He wasn’t really her dad. Out there somewhere
in this huge universe were her mother and
real
father.
I’m gonna spend the rest of my life, until my last breath, searching for them
, Aimee decided.

A loud gurgling in her stomach abruptly brought Aimee away from her dilemma back into
Dylan’s room.
Christ, I’m friggin’ hungry now,
Aimee thought as she sat up on the side of the bed and
looked around for her clothes. Not surprisingly they were missing, too. She imagined Dylan had taken them down to be washed. On the chair, in the corner, was a neatly folded stack of clothes. Aimee yanked the top sheet from the bed and wrapped it tightly around her like a toga, then tiptoed over to the pile. A sticky note in Dylan’s handwriting rested on top.

Good morning, sweetheart,

Some fresh clothes, courtesy of Kara...I have a couple surprises for you today. Call my cell phone, when you get up, and I’ll be right up…Love you

Aimee snickered. Dylan was the most thoughtful guy she knew. A true romantic. She crept over to the blinds and gave them a slight tug. Bright sunlight poured into the room. It felt deliciously warm. The light filtered in slatted patterns across the massive bookcase holding all of Dylan’s treasures. Instantly, she noticed a newly framed picture of them from the prom. They stood tangled in each other’s
arms. Dylan gazed at her with his signature grin. Aimee looked incredibly happy.
Geez, I can’t believe it was only four weeks ago.
So much had changed in such a short time.

Aimee was, and would always be madly in love with Dylan, but her life seemed so completely bizarre right now. No resemblance of order to her universe was evident. She exhaled, then placed the picture back in its spot and picked up the picture next to it. It was the picture of Aimee she had done professionally for Dylan’s graduation present. What little money she managed to save was waiting in the bank to be used for college, so Aimee didn’t have a lot to spend on a really impressive present, but Dylan seemed totally pleased when he opened it. Next to her photo was the picture of Dylan, his parents, his stepdad, Paul, and the strategically blotted out ex-girlfriend. If you didn’t know otherwise, they looked like one big happy family, but Aimee had learned looks can be deceiving. Until yesterday she had always thought her family was so much more grounded than Dylan’s.
Man, was I wrong,
Aimee decided.

“Hey, good morning, my beautiful Aphrodite,” Dylan greeted cheerfully as he quietly stepped into the room carrying a tray. Aimee jumped and turned, barely grasping the picture.

“Good morning,” she replied and giggled. “Thanks for letting me sleep. But I didn’t call. How did you know I was awake?”

“Second floor, remember? You can hear people walking above you when you’re downstairs.” He grinned, then he set the tray down on the bed and continued towards Aimee.

“Oh,” she answered. Aimee set the picture down and before she could twirl around he was behind her with his arms tight around her waist.

“Yummm,” he hummed, running his lips down the side of her neck to her back. He stopped and rested his chin on Aimee's shoulder, still holding her in his clutches.

“Stop,” Aimee said, “or…”

“Or what?”

“Behave. Your mom’s gonna hear us.”

“Nope, not unless she can hear us from Seattle.”

“Seattle!”
exclaimed Aimee. “What’s she doing in Seattle?”

Dylan kept her secure in his hold. “I guess she decided to go with Paul at the last minute this morning on a business trip.”

She rapidly put two and two together. “So, we’re here by ourselves?”

“Yep. Just the two of us.”

“Sweet,” Aimee whispered and slithered out of his burly arms, then cuddled her scantily clad body into his. After brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes, Aimee paused, looked deep into his chocolate pools, wiggled her eyebrows, and smiled seductively.

“Damn, woman, is that all you think about?”

Aimee stuck out a pouted lip. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Don't you like?”

“Yes, but we can get back to it in a little bit. It’s just I figured you might be hungry.” He gestured towards the tray on the bed. A steel cover hid the goodies underneath on a plate.

“Hmmm, I guess you’re right. I am kinda starving. Smells
really
good. What is it?”

He beamed. “Buttermilk pancakes. Made them myself.” She must have had a skeptical look because he quickly defended his culinary skills. “What? You don’t believe I can cook? Mom’s had me in the kitchen cooking since I was tall enough to stand on a chair at the counter.”

Aimee just shook her head and tiptoed to the bedside tugging along the tail of her toga. She lifted up the lid and sucked in the delightful aroma. “Mmmm, smells deeealiscious.” She took a bite of pancake and savored it. “Wow, I’m impressed,” she said before she started stuffing bites rapidly into her face.

“Hey, slow down. I can make more.” Dylan laughed. “I’ve never seen you eat so fast.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.” Aimee frowned suddenly thinking about the day before. She shuddered as the journey vividly filled her memory.

“What’s wrong?” Dylan asked noticing her mood change.

“Nothing.”

After a long moment of silence, Dylan asked, “So, are you gonna call your dad?”

Aimee frowned again, stuffed the last bite of pancake in her mouth, and chewed slowly while she contemplated Dylan’s question. Dylan watched her intently. Finally, she swallowed and answered flatly, “Maybe.”

“Geez, Aimee, what did he do? You’re totally pissed with him.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I am, and I have a right to be.”

“Why? What happened yesterday?”

She bristled and shot a disturbed look at Dylan. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Dylan read her petulant attitude and dropped it immediately. “Here.” He handed Aimee her cell phone from the bedside trying to change the subject. “Looks like Courtney texted you.”

“Oh,
crap
!” she hissed when she viewed Courtney’s message.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m the worse best friend ever,” Aimee moaned and quickly dialed Chelsea’s number. On the third ring Chels answered with a badly disguised miffed tone.

“So, my no longer best friend, where
were
you last night?” Chels demanded with exaggerated
sarcasm.

“I know. I’m a real twerp. Lower than Z Boy’s stinky poo-poo. Lower than the crud on the bathroom floor in a minimart. Lower than…”

Chels cut her off. “Okay. I agree. You’re pretty friggin’ low.”

“Please, will you forgive me?” Aimee begged, trying to make her voice sound as pathetic as possible. It wasn’t really an act. She felt horrible. Aimee had totally forgotten about the surprise bon voyage party she, Courtney, Jana, and Ashley were throwing for Chels, and she was leaving in an hour for New York. Aimee guessed she intentionally blotted it out so she wouldn’t get completely bummed
with Chelsea's exodus. But Aimee couldn’t believe she had forgotten it.
Geez
,
and I always thought
Chels was the self-absorbed one
.