Defiance, page 15
I nodded. "You're right."
"I'll go so we don't all walk in together," Jen offered. She hugged me hard. "I'm so sorry, Maggie."
"Jim and Bish are fine," Caleb reminded her harshly.
"Of course they are," she said and smiled at me before making her way out of the heavy door and down the hallway. I sat down on the bottom step, no longer able to hold myself on shaking legs.
"Here," Caleb said and sat next to me. He pulled me under his arm and ran his fingers over my cheek to keep his healing touch on me. "I'm so sorry, baby."
"This is too far," I said and heard my voice crack with anger. "This is too far, Caleb. It was bad enough messing with us, but my dad? He didn't do anything to them and had nothing to do with this."
"I know."
We sat there for a few minutes more and Caleb looked at me helplessly. "Are you alright enough to go back out? It's ok if you're not."
"No, let's go." I wiped under my eyes one more time and groaned. "Do I look all splotchy?"
He tried not to smile, but failed. He took my face in his hands and rubbed my cheeks with his thumbs. "No, you're not splotchy…whatever that means." He blew air across my face, focusing on my eyes. Any other time and I would have melted into a puddle at his feet. "There. Now you just look flushed, like you've been seriously kissed."
I nodded. "Ok."
"Maggie…" He looked down at something on the floor. "I wish there was something I could do. I should have known they might try something, but I honestly thought they'd be safe there without us."
"I know that," I told him. "You did do something. Your uncle's helping, at least you tried to do something. I was the one who couldn't stop being hysterical enough to think."
He shook his head to argue with me, then said. "He's your dad. I'll go call Uncle Ken in a little bit and make sure everything's fine. We need to get back in there though."
I nodded my head slowly and wrapped my arm around his for support. How was I supposed to pretend that everything was fine when my father could be dead this second and I had no idea either way?
When we came back in, Caleb's family saw us first. They looked like they'd been looking for us and when they saw us, they smiled and gave us a cursory glance before looking away, effectively dismissing our absence as making out just like Caleb had said. I hid my face in Caleb's shoulder to hide the tears that already wanted to come again.
The Watsons stood around the fireplace and watched us cross the room. I tried not to look at them. If they wanted to see if their plan had come into play yet, they were sorely out of luck. I wasn't playing along.
He took me to sit at the end of the table by Kyle and Lynne. We sat, but Kyle and Lynne were in their own little bubble together, oblivious to us or anyone else as they whispered into each other's face and ears. Lynne reached up to playfully slap Kyle's jaw and when she did I saw it. On the inside of her right wrist was the tattoo with Kyle's name. They'd mutualized sometime last night. Everyone had freaked because I got a tattoo and I was human, but Lynne had one, so it must be something new to add to the imprints.
And they seemed so carefree and easygoing and could just be happy and together.
I envied them, because although my memory of that night was perfection in its truest sense, they could just be giddy and revel in it. Caleb and I were forced to be adults in a world of teenagers and it still chapped my hide.
And then I scolded myself for thinking about any of that when my father could be dead.
I turned to Caleb to find him watching me. He decided he'd have to do something drastic to take my mind off of things and Kyle had made himself the perfect scapegoat.
"Her bedroom's not charmed like Maggie's is?" he asked Kyle suddenly and Kyle jerked to him and then twisted his lips, knowing exactly what Caleb was talking about.
"Dude, come on," he hissed. "Don't make a big deal about it."
"But she has a tattoo!" Caleb said excitedly. "And she's human. It's a big deal."
"Let me see it, Lynne," I said, suddenly intrigued as to whether or not it possessed the infinity symbol. With her cheeks pinking by the second, she forked her arm over the table. Caleb and I both leaned over to look at it and saw that yes, the symbol was there.
"I didn't notice that last night," Kyle muttered and rubbed the infinity mark with his thumb. "It's what you guys have, right? How did I miss that?"
"I can probably think of a few reasons," Caleb said wryly.
"Dude!" Kyle hissed again and jerked Lynne's arm back, but it was too late.
Maria had seen it and was very excited…and loud. "Oh, my goodness! I want a tattoo, too! It's not fair."
The entire table jerked their gazes our way and immediately started in on Lynne and Kyle with 'ooh's and 'aah's and 'you scoundrel's. Caleb beckoned Maria to him and patted his knee for her to sit. "Give me five, girl, 'cause you're just awesome."
She slapped his hand. "I am?" she beamed.
"Absolutely." He turned to me with Maria and him both facing me. "See? Now no one is looking at you now."
"You do realize that you completely threw Kyle under the bus," I told him. "Like threw him under and then put it in reverse."
He laughed and Maria did too, but her thoughts were just happy to be included. She had no idea why being thrown under a bus would be funny. I had to adore her. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Thanks for helping me get ready this morning."
"Oh, you're welcome. Anytime," she said all grown up like.
"You helped Maggie get ready?" Caleb asked.
"Yep. I painted her fingernails. See!" She jerked my hand to his face.
"I see," he said with humor overflowing.
I didn't want to eavesdrop, but with everyone asking Kyle all those questions his mind answered them whether his mouth did or not. He and Lynne had mutualized on the other side of the greenhouse. There was a patio there with chairs and loungers.
In Lynne's mind there were fireflies everywhere, the lights had a hazy glow around them and the stars shined liked diamonds. I wondered if her memories were distorted like Bish's. Hers made her good memories seem extra dreamy and he made his bad memories seem extra horrifying with its unreal cartoony feel. It was strange that that was how I saw things, but I guess I would see them as the person saw them.
I tried to yank out and let them both be, but Kyle's memory of last night started to play, and in the interest of science, I stuck around. I was right.
Kyle's memory showed a few fireflies, and yes the stars were showing, but it was more realistic. The chairs were sun-bleached and the lights had bugs swarming around them, the dreamy factor wasn't as dreamy. Satisfied with my findings, I backed out and shut everyone out. I needed to be in my own head.
I leaned against Caleb as he held Maria and laughed with his family as they picked on and razzed Kyle. I almost smiled.
Almost.
Sixteen
"Alright, everyone," Paulo called and clapped to get their attention. "It's time for those of us who are going to serve to head to the kitchen as it gets closer to lunch time. Everyone else can enjoy their time by listening to the Namy clan's new opera."
I stood, knowing that the ones needing to serve included me, but when I heard murmurs around me I looked up. Everyone looked aghast that I intended to serve anyone. Apparently, they hadn't expected me to help with the dignitary luncheon.
"I'm sure they didn't mean for you to help, Visionary," a woman near me said.
"They said all the council members were to serve."
And then I knew that I had to serve. I needed to do something to bring myself down off the pedestal they'd put me on and back to reality. I looked at Caleb and he nodded, hearing everything I'd thought.
Plus, it'll take my mind off things, hopefully.
Probably.
Can you call your Uncle Ken?
Of course.
I went into the kitchen and stared at the vast room. It would be intimidating to anyone, especially someone who had no idea how to cook. I gulped. Paulo looked my way and smiled. "Visionary, coming to see what we're cooking up, eh?"
"Sort of. Where do you want me?"
"We didn't expect you to help with this. I meant the council members, but you're not…" He seemed to be looking for words, and the ones popping through his head would have angered me, he knew. Then he remembered that I could read his thoughts and flushed before hurrying in his explanation. "You aren't expected to help. I can't imagine being served by the Visionary."
"Maybe that's exactly why I need to serve you," I said clearly.
His eyes opened more and he looked at me with a new respect. They always thought the Visionary was all about title and rank and respect, but I was the opposite of what they had expected. "As you wish."
"Thank you."
"Can you cook?" he asked carefully.
"Not a lick," I said and cleared my throat. "But I chop a mean potato."
He laughed and went to a big wooden box near the back door. "This is the root box. There's potatoes and onions in there and we need both chopped small for a few dishes we're making. The goulash is to die for."
"Alright," I said and went to work finding a knife and cutting board. I refused to ask for help. You may call that stubborn, I call it independence.
After I found everything I needed I stood at the counter edge where I could see into the dining portion of the big ball room. Marla saw me watching her and sauntered my way. I ignored her until she was right next to me.
"Maggie," she said sweetly.
"Marla," I said dryly in return.
"So, how are things going?"
"Peachy."
"Such a snide comment from such a respectable dignitary."
I put my knife down with a clang on the metal counter. "Do you have something to say other than goading? I'm a little busy here."
"I just wanted to see how everyone was doing. I know this week can be tiring." She leaned in a little and spoke softly. "And with everything the council is pulling, I can't imagine you're having too much fun."
"If you hadn't threatened me, my family, and everything I stand for the first day I got here, I might believe you."
She laughed, the sound reeling in my ears. The knife shook in my hand. "Oh, that? I'm just trying to look after my family. Sikes never had our family in his thoughts, only himself," she said bitterly.
"And now you're on the same path."
"No, I'm not," she replied carefully and looked around to see if anyone was watching us. "I'm on the path that's proactive. Sikes' research was intriguing, but he used it selfishly because he'd gotten what he wanted and didn't want anyone else to have what he had."
I figured out that she was talking about the forced imprint. "He was trying to save you from the same fate as him and Ruth. It wasn't right and I'm not just talking about morals. It hurt him to have done that to her, can't you see that he was really just trying to save the rest of you from living with the guilt he lived with?"
Her face turned blood red with anger. "Auntie Ruth has been letting her lips loose with lies."
I recognized my mistake too late. "I'm just assuming from what he said to me when he kidnapped me. Your uncle is the one with loose lips."
"Right," she said condescendingly. "Well, that's ok. I know just how to deal with people with loose lips, don't I? Just ask Sikes."
Then she walked off back to her family. I looked to see that Ruth wasn't with them. I needed to find a way to remove her from the family. She was tied to Marla by blood, but Sikes was gone, she should be freed. I'd find a way, but for now I focused on my potatoes.
~~~
I followed Paulo's instructions to add the onions and potatoes to the pots. Now I had a legitimate excuse to look like I'd been crying. I was really surprised that Donald hadn't said a word about my helping. He seemed mad about something and I could guess what. I probably embarrassed him in the cells. Oh, well.
Once that was done, I helped Gran set the tables. I wouldn't have thought opera was my thing, but as I listened to the softness and quick sharpness of her voice as it maneuvered around his baritone, I was awed. It was beautiful. It wasn't like I imagined at all and everyone else must have agreed with me because they all stood around and watched them enraptured.
Caleb came back. I realized he'd been gone for quite some time. He saw me and immediately slammed his mind shut. I panicked. Oh, no. My father was dead.
No! I'm sure he's fine. I just couldn't get Uncle Ken on the phone. I'll try again in a little bit.
I nodded and went back to lining up the ridiculous amounts of silverware and hearing Gran explain, once again, that forks go on the left.
Caleb walked to Lynne and Jen, who were watching a heated game of chess between Rodney and Kyle. He started talking to them and looked back at me a couple of times. I started to go over, because his mind was still closed off to me, but Gran grabbed my hand and took me back to the kitchen. "You can go necking with him later," she said and cackled.
I wanted to tell her no and go to Caleb, but he apparently had a reason for why he shut his mind. I trusted him, so I stayed put and prayed that he wasn't keeping anything from me.
We put the crystal on the table and I started pouring the punch that Gran had made. Marla came and took it from me when my pitcher was empty. "Here, I'll help. I make a seriously good punch."
I let her take it, though the good girl act wasn't fooling me. She was definitely up to something. They called everyone to come and sit and they all piled in eagerly. The goulash they had made smelled like something right out of the Wolfgang Puck cookbook.
I spent the next hour and a half of my life serving drinks, bringing bowls of soup and baskets of fresh rolls with scoops of cinnamon butter to anyone who dared to ask me. I tried to smile and show them they didn't have to be afraid, and it seemed to be working. To be served by the one you were supposed to bow to was humbling and eye opening.
I made jokes about being a waitress and being made for serving the dignitary lunch. They laughed and oohed when I carried the bowls stacked down my arm like I used to do at the 25 Hour Skillet.
Then it was finally my turn to sit. I was exhausted. Or rather, I felt like I should be. My imprinted body could withstand a lot more now, but the memory my body had of doing work like that was playing tricks with my mind and making me feel like I should be achy and tired.
When I sat next to Caleb I already had a bowl in my hand, but didn't have a glass. I said screw it and began to eat. Eventually I saw Marla going around refilling glasses. What was she doing?
She eventually came to our table and saw I had no glass. She left and came back with one and a pitcher full as well. She smiled as she set my glass down for me and began to fill more glasses with the red liquid. Caleb gave me the 'What the' look and I shrugged. She was apparently trying to play the angel card with everyone.
Oh, well. I scarfed my bowl and carefully sipped the punch. I'd never been a big fan of punch before. It always tasted so hokey to me, but this was really good. A good mixture of sweet and tangy and fizz.
I took the last roll from the basket and started to butter it, but my knife slipped from my buttery bread, clanking loudly with my glass. "Sorry," I muttered.
"Are you ok?" Jen asked from across us.
"Yeah."
"Your eyes look funny," she mused.
"I had to cut up onions," I told her.
"You had to what?" she asked and gave me a funny look. I looked over at Caleb and he was looking at me strangely, too.
"I said, I had to chop onions," I said, but it sounded like my tongue was triple its size and my words were muffled in my mouth. That was suddenly the funniest thing ever that this world has seen. I giggled and my knife slipped from my hand to my plate, once again clanking loudly. The sound seemed to travel around the room like music.
I tried to bite my bread, but it completely missed my mouth, smearing a dab of butter on the side of my mouth. Caleb laughed nervously as he took his thumb and wiped it off for me. I leaned in and kissed him. It seemed like the perfectly acceptable thing to do when he was being sweet and sexy, wiping my mouth for me.
But when he pushed me back and looked into my face, I bristled. "Oh, you don't want to kiss me now?" I shrieked.
"Of course I do," he soothed and shushed me. "What's wrong? Is this about your dad?" he whispered.
"No, this is about you not wanting me! Why? What did I do?" I groaned and heard him shush me again. 'Why are you shushing me?" I shrieked again.
