Discovery (3 page)

• • •

Ben needed to get away from Grace. He needed to get away from Grace and those intensely blue eyes of hers. Her eyes that held so many secrets and so much power.

Her eyes that were now interested in someone new.

Ben headed out the back door of the kitchen and walked right into a wall of cigarette smoke. The outside area near the large, metal dumpsters was the chosen spot for the kitchen staff to catch a smoke and the stress of today's busyness had forced more than the normal number of employees outside to calm their nerves with nicotine.

Not being a smoker, Ben held his breath through the crowd until he reached the other side of the dumpsters and found a secluded spot. He looked around to make sure he was alone before he discretely, but effortlessly, pushed the last heavy dumpster aside and slid into the newly made narrow opening. Crouching down, Ben barely had enough room to reach into his pocket and retrieve his cell phone, so he used his elbow and superhuman strength to easily nudge the full dumpster a few more inches. He had his older brother on speed dial so one press of a button and the phone made its connection. It only rang once before Tom picked up, as if he knew Ben would be calling.

“Hey,” Ben whispered into the phone. “I think we've got a situation brewing with Grace.”

Years ago, way before the age of telephones and video conferences, face-to-face meetings were a requirement of Council members. In fact, most Council members enjoyed the camaraderie of their fellow legislators while they established the laws by which those born with superhuman abilities would live, governing over the Powers' secret world as protectors of the human race.

But that was before the rebellious Anti-Powers came into existence and knowledge of a Council member's identity and secret powers became so risky. Risky for the Council members, the Powers they governed, and the humans they all protected.

Now, the Council rarely met in person and today was no exception. Everyone had agreed such a minor detail could be resolved with a quick conference call.

“Well, I don't think this is anything to worry about right now. The family seems to be harmless,” one of the more conservative Council members said. “Let's find out more about them before we take action.”

“But it's so close to her birthday and she is almost ripe,” stated his polar opposite on the Council. “We really don't have time for mistaken assumptions now. If the Anti-Powers take her when she is fully ripe, her life — ”

“They won't take her,” the Council leader sternly interrupted, enunciating each word as if it was more a directive than a statement. She looked to her lieutenant seated beside her. “And Grace still doesn't know anything?”

“No, Madam,” her lieutenant confirmed. “Nothing at all. We are definite about that.”

“Then let's trust the brothers for now and let them handle it. If we need to step in, we will.” And with those final words from their leader, the Council meeting adjourned with no record of it ever having taken place.

• • •

“Man, I
love
Mondays.” Annie closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair with the midday sun on her face and her long blonde curls falling like silk waves behind her.

“Yeah. Good thing the club's closed on Mondays. It's the only day I can get someone to serve
me
instead of the other way around,” said Ben, munching on an onion ring. The Three Amigos sat outside their favorite downtown restaurant, enjoying the first really warm spring day they had off work in a while.

“Okay. Who else do you want to invite?” Annie asked Grace. Despite Grace's innate self-consciousness, the guest list in front of Annie was growing with no end in sight.

“Annie, I told you, this is your thing. I really don't want a party. Turning twenty-two is not that big of a deal. Besides, you two are the only friends I want to hang out with on my birthday,” replied Grace before she took a bite of her Caesar salad. With her party nerves revving up her stomach again, she now wished she had ordered the chicken noodle soup instead.

“No. This may be your birthday party but I'm the party planner and I say let's make this thing big. You're going to love it.” Annie glanced up from her party notes and nodded toward the street. “Hey, how about Old Man Hillary? Do you want to add him?”

Grace looked up from her salad to see Carleton Hillary crossing the street toward them. Mr. Hillary was one of the older golfers from the club and a favorite member for all of the staff. The wisdom of his age allowed him to treat everyone as his equal since the years had granted him more tolerance than most people. He was distinguished looking, still boasting a full head of hair, and carried himself with the stature of a man half his age. If Lady Covington was the club's matriarch, Mr. Hillary was the staff's grandfather.

“Well now, who do we have here on this fine spring day?” Mr. Hillary asked as he nimbly stepped up the curb onto the sidewalk near the trio's table. He spent an inordinate amount of time playing golf at the club so he almost seemed out of place in his khaki pants and white button-down oxford cloth shirt today. He looked more like the retired businessman he actually was rather than the professional golfer he pretended to be.

“Hey, Mr. Hillary. Taking a break from golf today?” Ben asked.

“Monday's the only day I don't tee off,” said Mr. Hillary with a mischievous grin. “But if I was able to play the club today, you all would not get the day off now, would you?”

“No sir,” said Annie. “And we certainly thank you for that!”

Mr. Hillary tossed his head back with a deep–throated laugh. “Enjoy your day off!” The old golfer then scooted along the sidewalk and into his favorite men's clothing store two doors down.

“Okay. He is definitely invited. That man is a hoot!” Ben said.

“If we invite him, we better invite Lady Covington. You know how that old bag loves our Gracie,” said Annie. “Okay, who else?”

“Guys, enough already!” said Grace. This party was officially getting out of hand.

“Nope, not enough. The Cavern Café is huge and they told us to invite as many people as we want. That guy who owns the place really loves you, Grace, so we are going to take full advantage of his hospitality,” Annie said.

“Oh, he just likes me because I give him the kitchen's leftovers for his dogs.”

“Well, who cares
why
he likes you? I'm just glad he does.” Ben laughed and looked over at Annie's list. “Hey, what about Will Crenshaw?”

“Nah, I doubt he'll come,” said Grace. “Broke his leg and fractured his elbow when he crashed his motorcycle last weekend. You can invite him but I don't think he'll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Man, broken bones are the worst,” Annie said as she took a bite of her rare cheeseburger.

“Yeah.” Ben nodded in agreement.

“I wouldn't know. I've never broken anything,” said Grace without meaning to sound impertinent.

“We know, we know,” said Annie. “And you never get sick either. How do you manage that?”

“Just lucky I guess. My foster parents told me I barely scraped a knee when I was little.” Grace folded her legs up into her chair, pulled them close to her chest, and began examining the smooth, flawless skin covering her knees.

“You weren't even hurt in that car crash when your parents and brothers died, were you?” asked Annie as she continued to study the guest list in front of her.

“Nope. They told me not a scratch. But I was only four. You know I don't remember much about that,” said Grace matter-of-factly as she took another bite of her salad. As she lifted the fork to her mouth, her hands began tingling and shaking again, starting at her wrists and pulsating right down to her fingertips. Having never been sick or hurt, Grace had avoided doctors her entire life, but this latest thing with her hands was making her rethink her position on the medical profession. When the tingling and shaking first started a few weeks ago, she had assumed it was a side effect of the fatigue brought on by her extra shifts at the club. But the episodes were becoming more frequent now so she might have to give in and find a cheap doctor who would treat a waitress with no health insurance. Grace put her fork down and discreetly wriggled her fingers under the table until the sensation began to disappear.

“Okay. Enough talk of injuries and death. We're supposed to be planning a party here, remember?” said Ben. After a long pause, he asked, “Are you … uh … are you all still inviting those Reich guys?”

“Working on it.” Annie seemed to ignore Ben's tone as she looked over at Grace. “I was able to get their court schedule for this week from the tennis pro and am trying to rearrange some shifts so you and I can work the lunch crowd when they play.”

“Annie! You are shameless!” Grace could not believe her friend's boldness. “What if they find out?”

“They won't. I promised the tennis pro an invitation to your party if he keeps his mouth shut.”

“Oh.” Grace clutched her stomach under the table. Her nausea was definitely returning now and no doctor could cure that. If only Annie would get off this party kick, Grace could stop drowning in Pepto–Bismol.

“I still think it is a bad idea to invite a bunch of strangers to the party. They could be a couple of crazies or something. What if they ruin it?” Ben looked hard at Grace.

“Oh, give it a rest, Ben. They're cute and they're coming, so get over it. Besides, you had your shot at Grace a long time ago and didn't take it,” said Annie. “She needs a date to her birthday party and she likes Gregory Reich, so I am going to make this happen. End of discussion.”

At the mention of her failed attempt with Ben, Grace started intensely examining her knees again, avoiding the inevitable sympathetic look she knew he was giving her across the table. With his piercing aqua blue eyes and broad shoulders, Grace had developed a crush on Ben their senior year of high school but he had made it painfully obvious that the feeling was not mutual. So, after more than a few excruciating months of unrequited love, Grace had placed Ben back into her “friends bucket” and there he had stayed ever since. He had never given her a reason for his rejection, but now, years later, the reason did not matter as much as the lingering effect his rejection had on her psyche. Since then, her mind had placed each of the Three Amigos in what she assumed to be their proper places: Ben was the good-looking, funny one, Annie was the gorgeous one who got all the guys, and she was, well, she was just Grace. While Ben occasionally dropped hints that he thought she was just as much a beauty as Annie, Grace knew he was only being nice because he felt guilty after denying her affections in high school.

“Okay. Now let's talk theme.” Annie interrupted Grace's silent memories. “I'm thinking Senior Prom.”

“What?” said Grace and Ben in unison. They both looked at Annie with eyebrows raised and jaws wide open.

“Oh, come on. Think about it. There will be all age groups there and think how fun it will be to get dressed up in our prom clothes again. People will have a blast pulling that stuff out of their closets.” Annie's decision appeared to be final.

“Whatever.” Ben rolled his eyes. He caught Grace's glance and winked at her.

Ben's wink eased her sick stomach. He always seemed to know what she needed and when she needed it. “I give up.” Grace threw her hands in the air. “I guess there's no reeling Annie in now.”

“Yeah!” squealed Annie clapping her hands like a little girl. “Then it's all settled. Just leave the rest to me.”

“Are we done here? I need to go meet Tom.” Ben stood up to leave. “Annie, it's your turn to get the check.”

“Grace is going to have to cover me.” Annie did not look up as she gathered together the guest list and her notes on the party. She then leaned over to Ben and batted her eyelashes. “Oh, and tell that hot older brother of yours ‘hello' for me,” she said in a singsong voice.

“Good gosh, Annie. Give it a rest.” Ben pushed her away with his elbow. “Grace, you got this?” he asked as he ceremonially waved the check in Annie's face.

“Yeah. I'll just add it to the rent she still owes me.” Grace grinned as she shook her head and looked up to see Ben give her a knowing look and an eye roll. “At this rate, I'll never make it to college. Annie spends my tuition faster than I can save it.”

• • •

All three were laughing as they stood up to cross the street in front of the restaurant, however what happened next was not the least bit funny to Ben.

Because to say Grace did not see the truck coming would be an understatement.

She had stayed to pay the check and was several feet behind Ben and Annie in the crosswalk when an old pickup truck screeched around the corner and barreled straight for her. Its speed caused the white paint of the truck to appear like a flash lighting the middle of the street, but that one flash was all Ben needed to see out of the corner of his well-trained eye. With his undetectable speed, Ben spun around, scooped up Grace and whisked her back to the sidewalk from which she had just stepped, all at the exact same moment the truck raced past, barely missing Ben and its intended victim. As the white pickup sped past Ben, he could see the driver was an older man with long gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses.

While all this excitement was happening, Annie remained safely on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. She was browsing a downtown store window, twirling her fingers in her long, blonde hair, and seemingly oblivious to the action behind her.

“What the … ?” breathed Grace as she looked up into Ben's eyes.

His arms cradled her like a shielding blanket and he could feel her heart pounding through her chest. With his speed facilitating the imperceptible rescue, Ben knew Grace had no idea how she got back on the sidewalk or how she ended up in his arms. He also knew being this close to him, cradled in his arms, probably made her feel a little weird. And as unsettling as that was to him, deep down Ben hoped her feeling was a good weird.