The Calling (21 page)

Mandy walked into the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She hesitated when Justin’s gaze met hers. The pain in his expression stole her breath. He looked helpless, not in the same way he had on the beach as he held his drowned mother, but in a lost,
I’m not sure what to do next
sort of way.

She stepped in front of him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him tight, cradling his head to her chest. With her fingernails, she grazed his scalp, just the way he liked. “I’m sorry. I wish things had been different for you,” she whispered. Though his grandparents and aunt had provided well for him, she still ached for him to know the stability she had growing up.

He nestled closer, seeming to take comfort from her presence. His eyelashes brushed the bare skin of her décolleté as he blinked. The moment seemed to stretch into seasons, and Mandy just held him, trying to give him the support and strength he needed to heal. She knew better than anyone that the touch of a loved one couldn’t change the world, but it could ease a broken heart.

“You’re going to be okay, Justin. It’s just going to take time.”

He nodded against her chest, and his jaw moved as if he wanted to speak, but couldn’t find the words. She stroked his hair until he relaxed and finally spoke. “You know what the hardest part of all this is?” He breathed in deeply, painfully, as if there weren’t enough air in the whole room to fill his lungs. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to help her. Now she’s gone, and nothing I did made a difference.”

“That’s not true.”

“But it is.”

Mandy thought of when she’d been diagnosed with cancer, how for months she’d been so mired in grief, so afraid of dying, that nothing her loved ones said broke through to her. She had been completely focused on her fate, which at the time, she’d figured was death. But though her family and friends couldn’t free her of her fear, their love had comforted her. When she’d finally emerged from her grief, it hadn’t been because of what someone had said or done. It had been because she was ready to live again, to accept that death was a possibility, but so was life.

“You may not believe this, but your visits to your mother, the love you showed her, and the fact that you never gave up on her were enough. She knew. Though she might not have acknowledged what you were doing for her, it brought her comfort.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“No one on this earth could have helped her if she refused to allow it. Your mother was the only one with the key to her healing. Not you, not your father, not the nurses or doctors. Only her.” She lay her cheek on the crown of his head and felt a tear slide down her face. “You did everything you could. But she had to take that last step by herself. She was the only one who could free herself from the pain of Cecelia’s death.”

He tilted his head back and stared at her with eyes drowning in sorrow, but there was a flicker of hope in them, too. “I love you.”

Her heart hummed from his confession. She hadn’t known how badly she’d wanted to hear those words until they’d crossed his lips. They were like a cool breeze and a glass of ice water in an endless desert. “I love you, too.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair and brought her mouth to his. He kissed her long and hungrily, as if he hadn’t touched her for days. She was about to climb on top of him to be closer, to feel every muscle of his body beneath her, when she stopped, sure she’d heard a tap at the door.

They both leaned away from each other as Aunt Grace poked her head in. “Is everything okay?”

Justin turned toward his aunt. “We’re just having a chat. We’ll be out in a second.”

Aunt Grace nodded. “Uncle Will is heading out in a minute. I thought you might want to say goodbye.”

“I do,” Justin said, his voice tired.

His aunt looked at Mandy and then at Justin, her face drawn with concern. “I’ll tell him to give you a second.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as Aunt Grace closed the door, Mandy said, “As much as your aunt loves you, I’m surprised she didn’t have kids of her own. She made that hallway a shrine to you.”

He wrapped his thick arms around her, drawing her even closer. “She couldn’t get pregnant.”

“No wonder she dotes on you so much. I’ve never seen a dinner plate piled so high in my life.” The taste of Aunt Grace’s peach pie lingered on her tongue. “She’s a darn good cook, too.”

“My uncle once told me they lived on takeout until I came along, and then every night, she made dinner from scratch.” He chuckled, and his mood seemed to lighten. “If I didn’t finish my plate, she’d think I didn’t like what she cooked, so she’d never make that meal again. I remember being sick with the flu and forcing myself to finish her steak fingers. They were my favorite, and I wasn’t about to have her take them off the menu.”

She kissed the top of his head, his short dark hair tickling her nose, and then smiled, grateful he had at least a few good memories of his childhood. Based on all the sports memorabilia in the room, he must have found moments of solace.

Turning her head to the side, she let her gaze fan across the team pictures hanging on his walls. According to Aunt Grace, he’d been good at baseball, good enough to be noticed by scouts. “Your aunt said you had a full ride to Texas A&M. Why didn’t you take it?”

He shrugged, though his arms still held her tight. “I knew what I wanted, and it wasn’t college.”

“I can’t imagine you doing anything else, honestly.”

“Neither can I.” Pain deepened his voice to a raspy bass. “Are you ready to head home?”

She leaned back and looked down at him. He worked such long hours, and with being on call every other weekend, he rarely spent time with his extended family. And, he needed his aunt now more than ever. She felt as though they should stay until they were kicked out or offered a bed. “It’s only seven. We can stay as long as you’d like.”

“Let’s leave now. I want to stop by Xavier beach.”

Her brow furrowed. “At night? Why?”

He closed his eyes and squeezed her so tight that his fingers dug into the flesh of her back. “Because it’ll be deserted, and I need to show you something.”

Chapter 15

Mandy studied Justin from the passenger seat of his SUV. His gaze was trained on the road, the delicate ‘v’ between his eyes more pronounced than usual. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked for the fourth time during their long drive to Corpus.

He took a deep breath and blew the air out slowly. “I’ll know in about an hour.”

“You can’t tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s better if I show you.”

She slumped deeper into her seat, hoping whatever was bothering him wouldn’t be too monumental. But given their track record, the odds weren’t in her favor.

At half past midnight, Justin pulled onto Xavier beach and shut off the engine. He stared straight ahead at the black, churning ocean. The rhythm of the pounding waves crashing onto the sand normally calmed her, but tonight the sound was ominous.

“How long have you known me?” he asked.

Mandy wet her lips and studied him. “Three years. Why?”

His gaze darted to her mouth then to her eyes. “During that time, I’ve never given you reason to think I’m…” With his index finger, he traced circles in the air around his ear.

“Crazy?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Insane, loopy, two pennies short of a dime. Whatever you want to call it.”

She chuckled, though her laugh came out stiff as a plank. “Well, there was that one time when you mailed all your bills without the checks inside.”

“I hadn’t slept for three days.”

The man worked too hard. “Okay. Then, no. You seem perfectly sane to me.”

He took her hands in his, and she was surprised by how clammy his palms were. “What I’m about to tell you is going to be hard to believe, but I’m not insane.” He swallowed so loudly she could hear the clicking noise in the back of his throat. “Remember that.”

“You’re making me nervous.”

“I know. Just bear with me.” His jaw tightened, the hollows beneath his cheeks deepening. “I’m not…” Words seemed to elude him. When he looked up, his expression was heavy, as if the weight of his mother’s death had finally sunk in.

She squeezed his hands, partially to comfort and urge him on and partially to shore herself up for his confession. “It’s okay, Justin. Whatever you have to say, I’ll believe you.”

He eyed her as if he weren’t so sure of that, but he continued anyway. “I’m responsible for my sister’s death.”

Okay, she certainly hadn’t been ready for that. Half-shocked, half-horrified, she shook her head while chewing on his words. “You were a kid.”

“With a secret I didn’t take seriously enough. My family isn’t normal, at least not on my dad’s side. We’re descended from a man who could do things ordinary humans couldn’t.” He stopped, his lips clamping tight as if he were scared to go on.

“What could he do?” she prodded.

“Command the seas.”

Mandy’s jaw dropped, her first instinct to balk, but something made her stop and really consider his words. There’d always been an unexplainable connection between Justin and the ocean. Like the time she’d woken on a deserted beach and found him creating a vase of water around himself, but he had told her it was a trick. “You mean your ancestor could do tricks, like the way you did the time I caught you?”

“It’s a little bit more than that. He… uh… he could create a hurricane if he wanted.”

It seemed like the perfect time to balk. “That’s impossible.”

“Not for a god.”

“You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

Her jaw dropped again, and this time she wasn’t sure she could close it. With her mouth still hanging open, she blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog in her head. As it dissipated, she immediately thought of the children on her floor. So many of them lived difficult lives, fighting cancer or chronic diseases, and they were scared and physically hurting. To cope, they made up alternative worlds, where they were the heroes, strong and full of life and energy. When they weren’t undergoing treatments or being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses, they escaped to their special place to live in a way they couldn’t while surrounded by sterile sheets and bleached floors.

As her gaze rested on Justin, she wondered if he’d created his own childhood escape and had never let it go. In the same way she would have with the children she nursed, she proceeded gently. “So you’re telling me you’re related to Neptune?”

“Triton, actually.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“My sister died because of it. So, yeah, I do.”

“Justin, I think you’ve had a lot of trauma—”

He held up his hand, and she closed her mouth. “I’m going to tell you how she died, and I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”

“Of course.”

Not sure what to make of it all, she held her tongue while he told her about something called the Calling. But the pain in his eyes while he recalled his sister’s death made her realize that, true or not, he really believed he’d killed her.

“My sister turned to water and disappeared into the folds of the wool blanket, and my mother went mad.”

“You were on the beach when all this happened?”

“Yes.”

“You saw your sister disappear?”

“Well, no. She was just gone.”

“She turned to water?”

He nodded.

That wasn’t a world he’d created to escape; it was a world his parents had forced on him to explain the death of their daughter. She grabbed his hand, praying to God he’d listen to the voice of reason. “Justin, I think your mother killed your sister and blamed you.”

“No. That’s not what happened.”

She gripped his hands tighter. “I’m a nurse. I see this kind of thing all the time. Your mother probably suffered from postpartum depression. She didn’t know what she was doing, and your father couldn’t face the fact that his wife had murdered Cecelia.”

“The police said the same thing.”

Mandy stiffened. “She went to jail?”

“No. They never found Cecelia because she’d turned to saltwater, and the court deemed my mother incompetent to stand trial.” He stared at her as if the story of his sister’s death had no effect on him emotionally. All his concern was directed at her. He needed her to believe—she could see it in his eyes—but she couldn’t.

“Gods don’t exist, and people don’t turn to water,” she said in a tone much gentler than she wanted. If it weren’t for the funeral and his delicate state of mind, she’d be about to lose it. As it was, she wanted to shake him hard enough to rattle some logic into his brain.

“I didn’t expect you to believe me.”

“Then where does this leave us?”

“Let me rephrase that. I didn’t expect you to believe my words.” The car door clicked when he opened it, and the interior light shone bright on his golden face. “Follow me.”

She opened her door and stepped out, her heels immediately sinking into the soft sand. She leaned down, pulled them off, and chucked them into the passenger floorboard.