Boyfriend From Hell (Falling Angels Saga) (21 page)

“You guys ever think about marriage?” I know I was being direct, but it’s not the kind of subject you can ease into.

“Marriage? What makes you ask that?”

“You two are so good together. I just thought…” I let the idea hang in the air.

“Megan, is this about him coming between us again?”

“Heck no! Me and Armando are pals.” I couldn’t believe how convincing I sounded.

She smiled. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. If he ever asks me to marry him, you’ll be the first to know—but I’m happy with the way things are for now.”

For now?  Again I got the sinking feeling.
She
has
been thinking of marriage. She’s falling into his trap.

“You know, hon, I’m a little out of it tonight. Think I’ll turn in early. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. You need your rest.”

I gave her a hug and a kiss, and she went up to bed. Good. There was work to be done. My mind was abuzz like a beehive in spring.  If I could locate and destroy the gris-gris, I could loosen Armando’s grip on her.

I believed it had to be here in the house, either here or at the gallery where she worked.  But the gris-gris’ magic would be even stronger if it were here all the time.

I moved to the couch to look under the cushions. That’s when I noticed a magazine my mother had been thumbing through. It wasn’t
Vogue
, or
Cosmo
, or
People
. It was a baby magazine.

A baby!

Satan wanted a baby. Satan wanted my mother to have his baby. I thought of the old movie,
Rosemary’s Baby
, where poor Rosemary was tricked into having the devil’s baby.  That had been his plan all along. And now all of a sudden she’s
tired
.
She’s pregnant! My mother’s already carrying the devil’s child. Oh my God!

These are the thoughts that stampeded through my mind as I frantically dialed Maudrina’s number.

“HE WANTS A BABY!” I screamed when she answered.

“Megan?”

“Yes, it’s me,” I said, regaining my composure. “I just found a baby magazine. My mother’s looking through a baby magazine. Quick, call your aunt!” Okay, so maybe I hadn’t totally regained my composure.

“Megan, calm down. I can’t call my aunt just because your mother is looking through a baby magazine.”

“Think about it. She’s not his type. I couldn’t imagine what he saw in her. But it’s not her he’s interested in. It’s her
eggs!
” I said, my voice shrill and panicky. “We can’t allow what happened to Rosemary to happen to my mother.”

There was a long silence at the other end.

“Maudrina, are you there?”

“Uh-huh. I’m waiting for the body snatcher that’s taken over Megan’s body to hand her back the phone.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Just because your mother is looking through a baby magazine doesn’t mean Armando wants a baby. It doesn’t even mean she wants a baby. It’s just a magazine. I’m not saying you’re wrong. But if you’re right, it’s another reason to find the gris-gris as soon as possible. Have you thought about where it might be?”

I told her I thought it might be in the house, and that when I started looking I found the magazine. “And then I called you.”

“Okay,” she said calmly. “Forget about the magazine for now, and finish looking. I’ll call my aunt and see what she thinks. If she says anything important, I’ll call you back. All right?”

I breathed a long sigh of relief. “Thanks, Maudrina. You’re a good friend.” I could tell she was smiling on the other end.

I went back searching for the gris-gris. I had no idea of what I was looking for. Something made of hair, clothing, and bone. I didn’t even know how big or small it might be. I went through the house like a maniac, turning out cushions, pulling out drawers, turning over chairs. The place was slowly beginning to look like a tornado had stormed through.

The doorbell rang. My shoulders tensed, the fine hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention. Armando.

He knows I’m looking for the gris-gris. But of course he does. He’s the devil. He’s coming to stop me.

The doorbell rang again.

I fingered the crucifix around my neck, said a short prayer. I had been meaning to get more holy water. I’d used mine up at the party. It was one of my most powerful weapons against him, and I didn’t have any.

A third insistent ring.

“Megan, are you going to get that?” my mother called from the top of the stairs.

“Yes, Mom. I was on my way. Sorry to wake you. Go back to bed.” I moved to the door, braced myself, and opened it. Matt was standing on the other side.  

“Thank God!” I sighed, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. “What are you doing here?” I couldn’t hide how happy I was to see him and not Armando.

“You okay?” He didn’t seem sure how to take my attitude.

“Yes. It’s good to see you.”
…and not the devil.

“Oh. Okay. I was just wondering if… you know… you’d looked into what we talked about?”

Instant anger shot through me. “You mean you want to know if I found the perfect loony bin yet?” Suddenly, I wasn’t so happy to see him.

“Can I help it if I’m worried about you?” He stepped inside and looked around at the living room and dining room turned upside down. “What happened in here?”

“Nothing,” I snapped. “Mom lost an earring. I’m helping her look for it. And in answer to your first question,
no
, I haven’t found a loony bin yet.”

“Don’t put it like that.”

“How else can I put it? My two best friends won’t talk to me until I get help. I haven’t gotten any, okay? End of conversation.” I began pushing him out the door.

“Megan… I miss you.” There was a sadness in his words that tore at my heart. I could feel my emotions beginning to rise. I stopped pushing.

“I miss you, too.” There was a longing in my heart. I wished I wasn’t so darned transparent, but there it was. Tears welled up in my eyes. My thoughts traveled back to when we were kids.

I recalled when I first found out Matt was special. My mother had taken me to one of his Little League games. It was so boring. I couldn’t wait for the game to be over so we could do something way more exciting than baseball. But I noticed how all the parents were talking about him.

“That Dawson kid’s got a rocket for an arm… Matt Dawson must have a sledge hammer in his bat… That kid’s gonna put this town on the map.”

The game was tied in the final inning, and I remember Matt coming up to bat and hitting the home run that won it all. Kids swarmed him like flies to honey. Everyone wanted to touch him.

That’s the first time I was ever jealous. I wanted to yell “Leave him alone. He’s mine!” Suddenly, I had to share him with all these kids. Not just kids—
boys
. I couldn’t compete with boys.

After the game, as I sadly walked to the car with my mother, Matt called: “Hey, Megan, where are you going?”

“Home.”

“We’re going for pizza. You should come, too.”

“I think that’s just for the teams, honey,” Mom said.

“Nuh-uh. You can come,” Matt called. “You come or I won’t go.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. What a friend.

The team officials ruled I couldn’t come along, so Matt and I went for pizza with my mother instead. It was a day to remember.

“Where do we go from here?” Matt now asked, his voice dragging me back to the present.

“Umm. I’m not sure. I don’t want to lose you guys as friends, so I know I have to do something. Just give me a little more time.”

“Okay,” he said with a small, indulgent smile. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Will do.” We didn’t hug. I could tell we both wanted to, but neither of us was willing to make the first move. Tears were falling by the time I closed the door.

With tears in my eyes, I resumed my search for the gris-gris.

#

“Megan… Megan, come.”

My mother’s call pulled me from my sleep. I was curled up in my sleeping bag on my bedroom floor, clinging to my crucifix. I was dreaming about Guy. It was the night of the surprise party. We were in my kitchen. He apologized for the way he had been acting and kissed me long and deep, ending with his teeth sinking deliciously into my lower lip.

“Megan, can you hear me?”  Her voice sounded distant, weak.

“Coming.” I dashed down the hall and into her room. When I walked in, I was met by a wall of hot air. The place was like a furnace. “Mom? Are you okay?”

I moved to her bed. Her hair was stringy and matted. Sweat streaked her brow. Her sleeping gown clung to her, as if she was a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest. I put a hand on her forehead.

“You’re burning up.”

She looked at me through rheumy eyes. “I… c… can’t move.”

Glendale General is the best hospital in the region.

I remember Suze telling me just that when she brought me there to have my tonsils out. She also told me that, for taking my tonsils, the doctors would give me all the ice cream I could eat. What she didn’t tell me was my throat would be hurting so badly I wouldn’t be able to eat any ice cream.  What a rip-off.

Still, as we now raced across town in an ambulance, mom on a gurney, siren howling, I kept the positive thought at the forefront of my mind that Glendale General was the best hospital in the region. And they were going to fix what was wrong with my mother.

It was an old hospital with long, creepy corridors, painted antiseptic white with gray tile floors. By the time we got there, she no longer recognized me. It’s tough staying positive when your mother keeps calling you the name of her best friend from high school.

“Don’t look so worried, Darla. It’s going to be all right. I’m feeling much better now.”

“Good. Glad to hear it,” I responded, playing into her delirium.

“Did you do the history homework?”

“Umm. Yes.”

“Mind if I copy?”

“Didn’t I let you copy yesterday?” I asked innocently.

A sudden dreaminess appeared in her eyes. “I know. But I got sidetracked again by Tommy Gayle. That boy has got one terrific be-hind.”

What is with my mother and men’s butts? This was waaay too much information.

“I’m gonna go talk to the doctor now,” I said quickly, and I scurried away.

The doctor said she was running a hundred and four temperature. He said it casually, trying to make it sound as if she had a slight fever, but I watch too many doctor shows to be fooled. I knew she was on the verge of her brain being cooked inside her head like an egg.

After a preliminary examination, they rushed her away, down a long scary corridor, through a set of double doors—
woosh
—out of sight, leaving me staring after them.

Is she dying?

I was sent to an empty waiting room where they told me someone would come and talk to me. But they didn’t say when. Sitting alone in the tiny room, my thoughts turned dark.

So, this was my payback. This is what Armando was talking about. Trashing my computer was just the preliminary of what was to come.

He was sending me a message. Well, I had a message of my own. If she died I would kill him.

Okay, I know he’s Satan and therefore can’t die, but I wasn’t thinking rationally. It’s hard being rational when your mother is lying in a room somewhere, her brain slowly turning to Swiss cheese. So maybe I wouldn’t kill him, couldn’t kill him. But he was going to pay. One way or the other, he was going to pay. However it happened, it would feel like a hellish death.

“Are you Megan?”

A nurse was standing in front of me. Her expression was guarded. I lost it. Tears slowly trickled down my cheeks. I’d seen that guarded look on TV doctor shows many times. It meant the worst.

“Y… yes,” I said, trying to hide my sobs.

“Your mother is awake now. She wants to see you.” I checked her expression again. No change.

“Awake?”

“Yes. Follow me.”

“What about the fever?” I asked as we walked.

“It’s broken. Her temperature is back to normal. She’s feeling quite good now.”

Waves of relief washed over me. “I thought my mother had…” I let my sentence trail off.

“No. She’s fine.”

Then what is with that dour expression?
I wanted to say. This nurse obviously needed to watch more doctor shows on TV.

When I walked into my mother’s room she was sitting up in bed. Her hair was pinned back, away from her face. It was no longer drenched with sweat, and her color was returning.

She smiled as soon as she saw me. “Hi. Sorry to alarm you.” She seemed embarrassed.

“Mom, I’m sure you didn’t do the whole hundred and four fever thing on purpose.”

“I know. But I know how you worry.”

I returned the smile. “I think I was justified. You called me Darla.”

“Oh, no! Really?”

I nodded. “You thought you were back in high school. You wanted to copy my homework.
Tsk, tsk, tsk
. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ground you, young lady.”

She shook her head, continuing to smile. “That’s way more information than I wanted you to have.”

“Trust me, it was
way
more than I wanted to have.”

 “Did you call Mando?”

The question seemed to come out of nowhere and caught me off guard. My shoulders tensed.

“Umm, no. I was so worried about you I forgot to call him.”
That
was a lie. I’d thought of nothing but Armando as I sat sweating it out in the waiting room.
The bastard.

“That’s fine. I’m actually glad you didn’t call him. No need worrying him. He’s got enough on his plate with the burn and all.”

“Right.”

A few minutes later, the nurse came in and said Mom needed to get her rest. She assured me that, after a few tests in the morning, if nothing flared up, she could come home. I wondered if the tests would reveal she was having a baby. While it was good news knowing she wasn’t going to die, having the devil’s child was a kind of death all its own.  I kissed her good night and headed back home, where I resumed my search for the gris-gris.