Even In Darkness (Between) (3 page)

“Yes, Father.
As you wish.”

Chapter 4

I glared at my breakfast plate as though it had somehow wronged me, like it was responsible for making me get up only a handful of hours after I’d finally fallen asleep or had
somehow played a part in what I’d walked in on last night. The wrinkled skin on the steamed tomato made me want to hurl and something they called ‘black pudding’ was definitely not making it onto my fork.

Moira and Janette sat on either side of their mother at the enormous dining table. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Still, no one would guess that they’d been out all night partying with me. Their faces glowed like they’d gotten a full night’s sleep and had maybe even gone for an early morning jog. How was that fair? Here I felt like I’d been hit by a truck and there they
were, laughing with their mom and making me feel like I was a thousand years old. Nice.

Picking at my eggs, I transferred my glower from the food to the twins.
Anything to avoid looking at Aiden, who sat quietly next to me. We’d shared the same bed last night, but I’d scooted to the far edge, not wanting to touch him or the place the hell transporter had been. My body had finally started to relax when I heard him snore and that just pissed me off all over again. He could sleep? He knew I was lying there replaying that horrific scene in my head, but he could sleep anyway? I wanted to smother him with my pillow.

Joanne, the twins’ mom, sat across from me, looking like a slightly older but still beautiful version of her daughters. Her dark hair was cut to frame her heart-shaped face, which was normally smiling and happy, but right now was frowning at me with concern.

“Lindsey, aren’t you hungry?” Joanne asked and instantly, I felt like a worm for sitting there, hating on everyone and everything.

I
straightened in my chair and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m just not feeling too hot today.”

“What did you girls do to her last night?” Joanne turned on her daughters, who wore identical masks of innocence.

“Nothing!” they chimed in unison.

I shook my head
. “No, we had fun,” I assured Joanne, then stuffed a bunch of scrambled eggs in my mouth before I could say anything stupid. From across the table, my mother’s stare burned into the side of my face, but I refused to make eye contact.

“Lindsey, I thought you and I could go Christmas shopping today to pick up a few last minute things,”
Mom said.

Quickly swallowing my mouthful, I replied, “Will anything be open on C
hristmas Eve?” Joanne assured us that stores would be open. And so it was settled. Shopping with Mom all day. Yay. At least it gave me an excuse to get some space from Aiden for a while.

Almost as soon as we got started along the narrow, winding road to Inverness, Mom turned on me. “What’s with you? You’ve been snarly and growling all morning. And don’t give me any crap about not feeling well. I know what you’re like when you’re sick and it’s not this.”

I sighed, knowing there was no way I could bluff my way out of it. “Aiden and I had a fight.”

“Oh.” She didn’t say anything more and I certainly wasn’t offering up details. I watched the trees whiz past the window, getting lost in the blur that matched the turmoil inside me. It wasn’t his fault, I kept telling myself. I knew that, but it still hurt. I wanted to just forget about it, to focus on Christmas and my honeymoon, being in Scotland, being here with Aiden…

A tear ran down my cheek and I swiped at it with the back of my hand.

“What happened?” Mom’s voice was quiet, but felt intrusive anyway.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, you don’t have to talk to me about it, but you should talk to him.”

I
gaped at her. “Wait, you’re giving me marital advice? That’s rich.” This coming from a woman who’d had an affair and destroyed my family. I wouldn’t say she was in any position to be telling me how it’s done.

“Don’t be nasty
,” she scolded in that motherly tone designed to make me feel guilty. “I’m sorry you and Aiden are having troubles, but don’t take it out on me. It’s not my fault you two had a fight.”

She was right. That only made it worse. “Sorry,” I mumbled. Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “What Christmas presents do you need to buy?”

“I didn’t know if you’d gotten anything for Aiden…” Her voice trailed off in a question.

“Yeah, I found a book on the family history of the MacRaes at the Eilean Donan Castle gift shop before the wedding.”

She smiled brightly. “That’s great. He’ll like that.”

She paused and I pressed into it, feeling like there was something she wasn’t telling me. “
What about you? You can’t be buying gifts for me or else you wouldn’t have brought me. Who did you forget?”

She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder like she does when she’s nervous. “I hadn’t thought to get anything for our hosts, Mark and Joanne, and since they’ve been so nice to let us stay in their home, I thought it was the least we could do.”

Okayyyy, she was stalling. “And?”

She took her eyes from the road for a split second to glance over at me. Was that fear?
A blush? What the heck?

“I thought I’d get a little something for… your father.” Her voice tripped over the words.

I didn’t try to hide my shock. “What? Really? Why?”

“Well, it IS Christmas!” she s
napped in defense.

I held up my hands. “Okay, okay. Sorry.” After a bit, I tried again. “So what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know, something simple, I guess. He’s been giving me little gifts each day that we’ve been here, so I—”

“He has?”
My dad, the romantic? Shut the front door. “Like what?”

A girly grin flickered across her face before she tossed her hair again. “Well, the first day, he gave me a bar of soap.” At my puzzled expression, she went on. “I have this favorite kind of soap—”

“Dove, citrus scented,” I supplied and she nodded.

“Right.
Anyway, he thought I might forget to pack it, so he brought some for me. That’s all, no biggie.”

“And did you? Forget to pack some?” I couldn’t help needling her. She
nodded, eyes on the road. “And what else? You said he’d been bringing you gifts each day.”

This time, she turned and gave me a real smile, the kind that only my mom can
do, a smile that makes you feel like the sun is shining on you. A little flutter of hope for my parents came to life in my chest.

“He gave me a journal and a purple pen to write about all the places we’ve gone, he remembered extra batteries and a memory card for my camera, he bought me some of this candy-type fudge called Scotch tablet at this little ice cream shop where we stopped…” She waved her hand. “Things like that.”

“Wow. That’s…” I couldn’t even think of the words. Go, Dad!

“I know. It’s just like him, really,” she said and then purposefully cut off further conversation by turning on the radio.

After a while, a song came on that we both loved. We sang along with the radio and danced in our seats like we’d done so many times while I’d been growing up. Mom’s laughter lifted my spirits so the dark cloud that had been smothering me finally lifted. With her blue eyes sparkling, Mom looked younger than I’d seen her in years.

When we got to the mall, I picked up a couple of trinkets for Moira and Janette while Mom searched high and low for just the right thing for Dad, something to say thank you without being too personal.

“You know he’s going to love whatever you get him,” I said. My stomach growled loud enough for her to hear. “I’m starving. Can we go get lunch now? Please?”

“Yes
, fine. I’ll just…” Having come to some decision, she grabbed her gift off the shelf, paid the cashier and we left to hit the pub.

The place was deserted, the only noise coming from a television on the wall broadcasting a soccer—no, ‘football’ they call it in Scotland—game. Having not eaten much breakfast, I pounced on the fish and chips when they came, searing my mouth with the molten oil from the fish. I swallowed a
curse since my mother was across the table, but took a quick drink of soda to cut the pain.

“You shouldn’t eat so fast,” Mom said. And just like that, the easy mood between us
deteriorated. As if her lithe dancer body compared to my own plump curves was not reminder enough. It was probably a good thing I’d burned my tongue, since I’d just lost my appetite anyway.

Absently chewing on a fry—no, ‘
chip’—I swiveled to watch the television to avoid talking with my mom about my weight. The game got interrupted by a breaking news report.

“Authorities are investigating a string of sudden deaths that have occurred over the last few hours,” the announcer said. “According to news sources, hundreds of people across the globe have collapsed without warning and could not be revived. The cause of death is still unknown, but some have speculated we might be looking at a new strain of airborne virus, though the link between the deaths is still uncertain. Jane Moore is reporting from Edinburgh, where she’s speaking with the family members of one of the victims. Jane?”

The screen switched and a polished woman with immaculate lipstick and a helmet of unmoving brown hair appeared, microphone in hand.

“Thanks, John. I’m at the home of Helen MacDonald who passed away earlier this morning. Her son, Justin, is here with me. Justin, can you tell us what happened?” She pasted on a look of professional concern as she pointed the microphone toward the young man’s mouth. He looked like he’d been crying, but was also strangely excited to be on TV.

“Um, well, she was reading a book to her granddaughter, my daughter, Sophie, there.” He pointed and the camera swung toward a toddler with tight brown curls. “I think it was Hop on Pop. I’m not sure.” He shook his head and continued on. “And then she just fell over on the couch like she’d had a heart attack or something. But the paramedics said it wasn’t that. They don’t know what happened to her. She’s just… gone.” Grief shone in his red-rimmed eyes and my heart clutched in sympathy for him. “We thought we’d lost her that one time before, when she got really sick and nearly died, but she pulled through.”

“She nearly died before?” the news reporter prompted.

“Yeah, a few years ago. She had pneumonia and her heart stopped for a minute. She told us later that she did die, that she went to this beautiful place but the guide who met her there—she called him a transporter—he told her it wasn’t her time and sent her back. And she hasn’t been sick since. I just don’t know what would have caused this.”

Hearing the man on the television say the word “transporter” sent a jolt of alarm through me. I hadn’t realized that anyone else knew that term. Of course, I’d read about people having near death experiences, I’d just never really put the two together. When they flashed a picture of the woman on the screen, I couldn’t help but wonder if Aiden had met her the first time, if he’d been the one who’d sent her back.

Aiden...

I
thought of the realm in between and the way he’d looked at me while we’d danced at the palace of Versailles, like everything he’d ever wanted in life, he’d found in me. Guilt over how I’d treated him since last night washed over me in waves. Yes, I was hurt and scared, but I was acting like he’d purposefully cheated on me. Sitting next to him at breakfast, I’d refused to meet his eyes. I didn’t even say goodbye when Mom and I left this morning. He’d called out for me to be safe as we were leaving, but I’d pretended not to hear. None of this was his fault and I’d completely cut him off.

Suddenly, all I wanted was to see him again, to apologize,
to feel his arms around me. Whatever happened, we would face it together. He needed to know that I still loved him.

The reporter’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“It remains to be seen how this tragedy may be linked to the other deaths, but either way, Christmas won’t be the same this year for the MacDonald family. I’m Jane Moore, reporting from Edinburgh. Back to you, John.”

“We have to go.” Swiping my mouth with a napkin, I stood up.

“What? Why?” Mom still had half her lunch to finish.

“I need to talk to Aiden.”

With a dramatic sigh, Mom glanced longingly at her food and picked up her purse. I resisted the urge to tell her she should eat faster.

By the time we got back to the MacKinnons’ castle, I was nearly bursting
with tension like a shaken soda can. I raced around, asking everyone if they knew where Aiden was. No one had seen him. Taking deep breaths to calm down, I tried to put myself in his shoes. Where would I go? And just like that, I knew.

Borrowing Mom’s rental car, I drove
like a maniac through the winding Scottish roads to Eilean Donan, praying that I wouldn’t get in an accident with some semi-truck on the treacherous, skinny path. As the familiar stone castle came into view, I let out the breath I’d been holding. Aiden was there. I felt it in my bones. Everything was going to be okay.

After parking the car and
grabbing a ticket for entry, I stepped quickly through the castle, which was mostly deserted. My heart was in my throat as I went from one room to the next, hoping I would find him. When I got to the main hall and still didn’t see Aiden, I let out a growl of frustration. He wasn’t there. Where the hell had he gone? Slumping into one of the chairs along the wall, I indulged in a little pity party, glad there were no tourists around to witness my mental breakdown.