The Seeker: Dreamer Part 5

"Wow. Did you go to Disneyland all the time?" I asked.

He chuckled a bit. "Not all the time, but probably a lot more than your average person. Have you been?"

"Once. Grams took us when I was 8. It was magical," I sighed. "But I think I would be able to appreciate it better now. I think we should definitely go this summer to celebrate my graduation. Hint, hint."

"I thought your mom said you were a junior?"

"I am, but I'm graduating a year early."

"Oh, so you're a smart kid, huh?" he asked, smiling, but in a nice way.

"More of smart a.s.s, actually," Grams interjected. "So, you're a homicide detective, Brian? It sounds fascinating, yet morbid. How do you stand dealing with death every day?"

"Well, I don't really think of it like that. I think of it as bringing justice and closure to families."

"So, what kinds of cases have you worked? Anything we might have heard of?" Grams continued her interrogation. Brian might want to consider recruiting her.

"Well, I can't really talk about any active investigations, but I worked the case of the couple who were found in the trunk of the burned-out car a couple years ago. The guy got sentenced last month."

"Ugh, what a horrible case," my mom sighed. "Those poor people."

Brian reached over and took her hand in a sweet way. I was liking this guy; he seemed to treat my mom well. "And I recently picked up the Ashley Hayes case, which I'm sure you've heard about since it's been all over the news lately."

"That's the body they found a few weeks ago up by Sandia Man Cave, isn't it?" Grams asked.

"Yeah. It was a missing persons case, a thirty year-old cold case, until a hiker and his dog stumbled across her remains. I was a.s.signed to it yesterday. It should be very interesting."

Where had I heard that name before? It sounded very familiar to me, but I couldn't think where I had heard it. It felt like a bell or something went off in my head, like I was supposed to remember something, but it was just out of reach. Well, this was going to bug me until I figured it out.

"So, Brian, tell us about yourself. How old are you? Have you ever been married? Do you have any children?" Grams continued. I could see my mother seething, but she was powerless to stop her mother from grilling the new boyfriend. It was actually enjoyable to watch when it wasn't a guy I had brought home. I had to admire my grandmother's chutzpah.

Brian seemed to have been forewarned, because he cast my mom an amused look before launching into his answers. "Well, ma'am, I'm 42. I was married once, briefly, when I was barely out of college, and I don't have any children."

"Oh, so you're divorced?"

"No, ma'am. I'm a widower. My wife died of a brain tumor," he said quietly. This time Mom reached over to take his hand.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Brian," Grams apologized. "I didn't mean to pry."

I choked a bit on a bite of bread. The day my grandmother didn't mean to pry would be a cold day in h.e.l.l.

We rounded out the dinner with a beautiful tiramisu, which my mom certainly didn't make except on the most special of occasions. She was going all out to impress this guy, which I guess I understood after meeting him. He seemed pretty great. As we were getting started on dessert, the doorbell rang again.

"That's Jack," I said. "We're going to get started on our online cla.s.ses tonight." I got up to let him in.

"Well, bring him in for dessert. There's plenty," Mom a.s.sured me.

I introduced him to Brian and they hit it off right away, discussing the latest NBA scores. I think Brian was relieved to have a momentary escape from all the estrogen.

After we finished dessert, I sent Jack into the living room to get set up for homework while I cleared the table. I walked into the kitchen, hands full of plates, and was shocked to see Brian and my mom kissing pa.s.sionately. It gave me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Uh, sorry," I apologized awkwardly as I set the dirty dishes down and beat a hasty retreat. They broke apart guiltily, and I heard my mom giggle. Giggle! I don't think 36 year old women should giggle. I walked into the living room in a daze, flopping on the couch beside Jack.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked, noticing I was sitting there, not picking up my laptop. "Ally, querida? You okay?"

"No," I breathed. "I just walked in on my mom and Brian sucking face in the kitchen."

"Way to go, Brian," he responded, chuckling.

I punched him lightly on the arm. "No, not 'way to go.' It was deeply disturbing. Children should not have to see their mothers French kissing. I may need therapy."

"Therapy, huh? Sounds serious." He put his computer down and took my face in his hands. "I think I can help. I'm sure I can think of something to drive those awful memories away." He leaned in and placed his lips softly on mine. I would never get tired of the feel of his mouth against mine, the taste of him on my tongue. The funny feeling was back, but for entirely different reasons.

"Well, thank goodness you were here to save me," I whispered against his lips. He smiled and pushed me back against the cushions, deepening the kiss.

"Ahem," my mother interrupted, Brian at her side. "Uh, sorry," she mocked me. "Brian and I are going out for a bit. Grams already left. So you two are on your own. I trust it won't be a problem, will it, Jack?" Her meaning was abundantly clear and embarra.s.sing all at the same time.

"No ma'am. Not at all. You can trust me." He couldn't help but look ashamed. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at her.

They left and I sat up, my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry, Jack. That was embarra.s.sing."

He laughed, taking my hands away from my face. "Not really. I will never be embarra.s.sed about kissing you, sweetheart." He kissed me again. "And she was absolutely right to remind me to behave. Knowing we're alone in your house might be enough to make me forget all my good intentions."

"Ooh, that sounds intriguing and promising," I said as I kissed him back, this time pushing him back against the cushions.

He kissed me back for a moment before sitting up and gently pushing me away. "Homework time," he stated firmly.

"Fine." I huffed. It was sweet he felt this way, but it was frustrating, too. Although, if I was totally honest with myself, I was relieved my boyfriend wasn't pressuring me. If he ever called my bluff, I would almost certainly chicken out. I wasn't nearly as worldly as I pretended.

We spent almost two hours working on our online cla.s.ses, economics and government, which were boring in the extreme, but at least we were spending time together. I guess that's how you know you really love someone: when even something boring is enjoyable because you're doing it with the right person.

Later, I walked Jack out to his car when he was ready to go home. As I was kissing him goodnight, I was swept into a vision.

A man leaned against Jack's car, his '65 Mustang. I was walking toward him and he stood up straight as I approached. As I got closer, I could see he looked familiar; he actually reminded me a lot of Jack, but about 20 years older.

I gasped and Jack said, "What, Ally? What did you see?" By this time he was used to my freaky visions.

"I think I saw a vision of you, in the future." I tried to catch my breath as I steadied myself.

"Hey, take it easy. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was nothing upsetting. I saw you, only older, leaning against your car. That's it; you didn't do anything except stand up as I approached. I guess you keep it for a long time, huh? I wonder why I would see something like that? Weird, isn't it?"

"Yeah, weird." He looked tense for some reason. "I gotta go, sweetheart. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He kissed me quickly and left rather abruptly. Was it something I said?

The next afternoon, Jack and I were walking out to the student parking lot together, making plans to get together after he got off work to do more online homework. I wasn't paying much attention to our surroundings and was surprised when Jack stopped suddenly about 50 feet from where our cars were parked side-by-side. I heard him curse under his breath.

"What is it?" I stopped beside him and looked around, quickly locating what he had seen. A man was leaning against his Mustang, standing up straight as he saw us approach. I looked up at Jack in shock. "But...it's my vision." I could see his jaw tense, anger beginning to ooze out of him, yet he didn't look nearly as shocked as I would expect. "Is that your father?" I asked quietly. He nodded. "You knew. Last night, when I had the vision, you knew, didn't you?"

"I suspected. s.h.i.t," he sighed.

"I can leave," I offered. "So you can..."

He clenched my hand tightly. "Please stay." I nodded and we walked together toward his father.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

"...it was as though two different worlds had b.u.mped into each other, and I was shaking from the collision."

Madeleine L'Engle Jack and his father stared at each other, neither saying anything. I don't think Jack realized how hard he was squeezing my hand, but I wasn't about to bring it to his attention. You've heard the expression about tension so thick you could cut it with a knife? Well, I never gave it any credence before, but this was a great example of it. As I looked between the two men, I was amazed at their resemblance. Jack's father had a slightly darker complexion and his hair had silver threads running throughout, but they had the same eyes, the same nose, and the same strong jawline. No wonder I thought the vision I had was of Jack in the future; I felt like I was getting a glimpse of what he would look like in twenty or so years. His father was almost as good-looking as Jack, but I hoped Jack wouldn't have the haunted, broken look in his eyes I saw in the older man.

"Jackson." His father finally broke the silence.

"Dad," Jack choked out. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you, son."

"Fine. So talk," Jack ground the words out.

"Could we go somewhere for a few minutes? Alone?" I noticed his father had a thicker accent than Jack and remembered he was raised in Mexico.

Jack shook his head. "No. Here is fine. And she stays." He stared hard at his father for a moment, then finally relented slightly, saying, "This is my girlfriend, Ally Moran. Ally, this is my father, Marcos Ruiz." We shook hands briefly.

His father nodded slightly, looking sadder and more defeated. "I wanted to let you know I've moved to Albuquerque. I've been hired as an adjunct professor at the university."

"That's great, Dad," Jack said in a completely flat voice. "Congratulations. I hope you'll be really happy. I didn't know they hired drunks to be professors."

I looked up at him sharply, shocked at his cruelty. His skin was drawn tightly across his cheekbones, his eyes hooded.

Marcos shut his eyes against Jack's verbal arrow. He opened them and looked his son in the face. "I deserved that. I spent eight months in rehab and have been sober for a year. I know I can't ever make it up to you, but I want to try. And I need to be a part of Megan's life. I'm so sorry, Jack. I can't begin to tell you how much I regret the past few years."

Jack looked away and I could detect the shine of tears in his eyes. "Yeah, well...you'll understand if I don't really give a s.h.i.t."

His dad nodded again and looked away as well. "I do understand, Jackson. I needed you to know. Trina has invited me to dinner tonight so I can see Megan. I know you don't want to see me, but I hope you'll be there for her. This will most likely be very upsetting to her. She'll need you."

I hated Marcos in that moment; hated him for what he had done to Jack, and what he was doing to him now. I knew Jack would do anything for Megan, no matter how painful it would be for himself.

Jack, of course, nodded. "I'll be there."

"Good. Thank you, son," Marcos said.

"Are we done?" Jack asked. "I really need to get to work."

Marcos nodded. "Yes. I'll see you this evening. It was nice to meet you, Ally."

I watched him walk away, get in his car, and leave before I turned back to Jack. He had his hands in his pockets and was staring down at the pavement, the muscles in his jaw flexing. I didn't know what to say, so I silently wrapped my arms around his waist and held him tightly. After a full minute, he finally took his hands out of his pockets and hugged me close.

"Thanks for staying," he whispered.

"Always," I whispered back. "Will you come over after dinner?"

He nodded and pulled away. "I gotta go."

I worked on homework for my regular cla.s.ses later in the evening while waiting for Jack to show up. We were reading King Lear for my CNM English cla.s.s and I was supposed to be working on a character a.n.a.lysis for Edmund. The only thing I could come up with was he was a s.a.d.i.s.tic b.a.s.t.a.r.d and King Lear was probably the most depressing play ever written. I'm really more of a happily-ever-after fan.

I finished all my regular homework and glanced at the clock. I had begun to think Jack wasn't coming and I was worried maybe things hadn't gone well at dinner. When he finally arrived, he came in and flopped down on the couch, leaning his head back, eyes closed, and groaned. I curled up next to him, crawling under his arm and laying my head against his chest. He pulled me close and kissed the top of my head.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess," he breathed. "This is not going to go down as one of my favorite days, however. It may even make my top ten list of days that completely suck."

"How did Megan do?"

"Better than expected. Better than I did, actually. She got real quiet and watched our dad throughout dinner. She sure didn't eat much."

"What did you do?" I was almost afraid to ask because he had been so angry this afternoon.

"Well, I didn't punch him in the face, which is what I wanted to do. I guess I kept quiet too. Any question I wanted to ask was something I didn't want Megan to hear."

"You probably didn't eat much, either. Wait here and get signed on the eCademy site." I kissed him quickly and headed to the kitchen. By the time I got back with a sandwich for him, he had both our laptops ready to go for our economics cla.s.s. I grimaced; I had very quickly realized economics was not my cup of tea. If supply decreases and demand increases, what happens to prices? Who the h.e.l.l cares? Certainly not me.

Jack took the plate with his sandwich from me, set it on the coffee table, and pulled me down on his lap for a kiss. "Thanks for taking care of me, querida. I love you." He kissed me again. "And I can tell you love me too."

"Oh, yeah? How so?"

"You actually touched meat for me." He gestured to the ham sandwich and then kissed me for a few moments. "All right. Stop trying to seduce me and let's get back to economics. I know how much you love those demand curves," he said as he set me down on the couch beside him.

"Seduce you? Hey, I'm not the one who started it this time." I said. "And I freaking hate economics. If it was up to me, we'd go back to the barter system."

He laughed and took a huge bite of his sandwich.

Two hours later, we had finished both our economics and government homework and were watching the news. One of the lead stories was the discovery of the ident.i.ty of the remains of Ashley Hayes, missing since 1984. They flashed a picture of her. She was blonde, beautiful, and smiling. It was probably her senior picture and it made me sad to think of her never graduating, never going to college, or getting married.

"My mom's new boyfriend is the lead detective on the case," I told him.

"Really? Huh. That's cool, I guess."

"Yeah..." I said.

"What is it?" He turned to look at me.