The Pull of Destiny (64 page)

“Wow. It's pretty thick,” I
commented, weighing it in my palm before I slid it in the capsule.

“Once I started writing, I
just couldn't stop!” She giggled at the mock sad look on my face and patted my
hand. “Don't worry, that's a good thing.”

“It better be,” I growled
playfully, holding up a white t-shirt with my name scrawled on it.

“What's that?” CiCi wanted to
know.

“A band t-shirt signed by the
one and only. Slash.”

I folded it and put it
carefully in a Ziploc bag before putting it in the capsule.

“Wow, you really met him?”
CiCi asked, an awed tone in her voice. I glanced at her, heartened that she
even knew who he was. Joanna had had no idea why I was so excited when I called
her up right after I met Slash backstage. “Now, if you told me you met Paris
and Nicole, that would be a different story,” she'd said.

“Yeah,” I said to CiCi. “Two
years ago when I was in L.A. We were at the same hotel and I met him in the
lobby.”

I almost scared the guy off
with my fan-girl like behavior too, something I didn't share with CiCi.

“That's so cool!”

I nodded. “Yeah, it was
really sweet. The guy is my idol, so it was really awesome.”

CiCi held up a coin. “I'm
putting in my lucky penny,” she said.

Bemusedly, I handed her a
Ziploc and watched as she dropped it in. “What if you need luck in the next few
years?” I asked her. “You can't come and dig it up!”

Grinning at me, she said, “I
think I'll be okay. Who knows, I might even find a four leaved clover.”

“Or a rabbits foot,” I joked,
remembering that day we went to Baskin Robbins and she told me about all the
good luck charms she knew about.

“Or a rabbits foot, God
forbid,” CiCi said in agreement.

“Next- concert tickets.” I
sighed, looking at the two tickets. They had been for the Queen and Paul
Rodgers concert that I never even went to and just looking at them brought back
memories I would have rather forgot. Just lock them up in a box deep in the
recesses of my mind and throw away the key. Unfortunately, I couldn't do that.

CiCi looked at the tickets
quizzically. “Concert tickets?” she repeated. “Why are they important to you?”

I swallowed, staring down at
the tickets as I stuffed them in a Ziploc. “Shane and I- we were going to this
concert on the day of- the day of the accident.”

“Oh, Luke,” CiCi whispered,
her eyes huge as she grasped my hands.

“He told me to meet him at
the concert coz he had to do something for his mom,” I continued. I just couldn't
stop talking, even though reliving Shane's last day hurt me physically. “I was
being a jerk about it, calling him a momma's boy, telling him to hurry up and-
he didn't show up.” I ran a hand over my face. “His mom called me to tell me
what happened but even though she was crying so hard I could barely understand
her, I didn't believe it. There's no way Shane could be dead, I told her. I
remember like it was yesterday. Even after I saw Shane's totaled car, it still
felt like he was playing a bad joke on me.”

CiCi nodded hesitantly, her
eyes watery. Mine felt the same way. “I know. I couldn't believe it when I
heard either,” she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “He was
such a nice guy. He always said hi to me in the hallways.”

I nodded. That was Shane in a
nutshell. He always had something nice to say to everyone. Out of our entire
clique, he was definitely the most down to earth. “Yeah. He was super special.”

CiCi wiped her eyes with a
fresh paper towel before holding out her blue polar bear pencil. “I'm putting
in my lucky pencil too,” she said.

Involuntarily, I grinned.
“You're gonna be all out of luck, CiCi!”

She shrugged. “At least I
won't be using it,” she theorized. “Last week I caught myself sharpening it.”

I raised my hands, holding
out a Ziploc. “Then by all means, put it in!”

CiCi did, a thoughtful look
on her face. She looked up at me. “I don't really have that much to put in
here,” she told me, sounding slightly dejected as she fidgeted. “I don't have
many things that mean a lot to me.”

My heart went out to her and
I draped an arm around her shoulder. “That's okay. The things you've put in
already are all that matter,” I assured her, kissing the top of her head. “I
mean, I don't really have anything else to put in. Just this photo.”

I opened my wallet and
carefully took out a picture of me grinning as my mom carried me on her back.
Grandma Astor had given it to me two years ago (in secret) when I went to the
hospital to visit her a few days before her fatal heart attack. I had a couple
of pictures of my mom (dad had had the rest destroyed, the prick) but this one
was the only one which showed us both.

Looking over my shoulder at
the photo, CiCi asked, “Is that your mom?”

I nodded, realizing that I'd
never thought to show CiCi a picture of my mother. “Yup. That's Vanessa
Wright,” I said, a proud note creeping into my voice.

“You look like her.” She
smiled up at me and I impulsively gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Flushing
with pleasure, CiCi cleared her throat and continued. “You both have
mischievous smiles on your faces. That's a compliment, by the way.”

I grinned, kissing her again.
“Thanks,” I whispered against her lips, making her quiver as I pulled away.

“And you were so cute when
you were younger,” she cooed, scrutinizing the picture, then rapidly looking up
at me. “Not that I'm saying you're not cute now! Because you are! I mean...”

Her voice trailed off and she
squirmed nervously.

“I know what you mean, CiCi,”
I said, chuckling.

She heaved a sigh of relief.
“Okay, good. How old were you when this picture was taken? If you remember,
that is.”

“I must have been about 3 or
4, because my parents divorced when I was almost 5.”

CiCi was silent for a second,
and then she looked up at me. “Luke, can I ask you a personal question?” she
asked, her mouth set resolutely.

Puzzled, I nodded at her.
“Sure. What?”

“Do you mind telling me what
happened with your mom?”

I tensed, scratching my chin.
Ohh... “It's a long story,” I said honestly.

“You don't have to tell me if
you don't want to,” CiCi said immediately, obviously sensing that she might
have just stepped on a land mine.

I shook my head. “No, I kinda
do have to tell you,” I said slowly. “I owe it to you, after what you've told
me about your family. But- I don't really know where to start.”

It was a long, unbelievable
story, the kind a soap opera would come up with. Unfortunately for me, it was
all true.

“Not to sound cliché or
anything, but starting at the beginning is usually the best way to start.”

Staring at my hands, I thought
for a while. “I just know a little bit, from what my Grandma told me. My mom is
a British baroness.”

“Really?” CiCi sounded awed.
“Wow.”

I nodded. “Yeah. When she was
22, she came over here to John Hopkins to study medicine and somehow, she met
my dad.” I tried to keep the note of disgust out of my voice. Of all the people
to run into, she had to meet my dad? Then again, if she hadn't met my dad, I
wouldn't have been born, so it was a catch 22. But still...“She fell for his
charms and they had a one night stand and parted ways. Then mom found out that
she was pregnant and she searched for my dad. Swore that only he could be the
father. Her family disowned her, saying she had brought dishonor upon their
name or some shit. My dad’s parents forced him to marry her, since he had
gotten her pregnant. Code of honor, I guess. He didn't love her but mom- she
loved him, despite the fact that he only agreed to marry her because he was
forced to and despite the prenup he had drawn up.” I sighed. “Guess mom hoped
she could change him because he was really all she had.”

CiCi nodded with
understanding. “And you were born?” she asked quietly.

“No,” I replied, shaking my
head. “She had a miscarriage.”

Looking shocked, CiCi covered
her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no!”

“Dad- he was elated,
according to my grandma. Started divorce proceedings, since he wasn't 'tied' to
her anymore.” I snorted bitterly. Obviously, dad’s heartlessness had started a
long time back. “But his plans changed when mom found out that she was pregnant
again. With me. Dad was furious.” I can just imagine it now. He probably went
on a drinking spree and started smashing and throwing everything in reach,
having his version of a tantrum. “He swore mom must have cheated because he
didn't sleep with her. Ordered a DNA test as soon as I was born. As it turned
out, I was his son and he couldn't do anything about that. But he still hated
my mom and he started plotting to get rid of her. So he had her set up. You
see, one of the clauses in their prenup was that if either of them cheated, the
cheater would lose custody of me.”

Gasping, CiCi said, “Uh oh,”
her eyes not leaving my face.

Talking about this was pretty
therapeutic. I had never talked to anyone about my mom before, not even Shane.
Maybe I had just been waiting for the perfect time. The noisy diner might not
have been the best place for me to bare my soul, but it felt like the right
time. And the right person to tell my story to.

I gave CiCi a quick squeeze
before continuing. “I don't know how he did it but somehow he set her up.
Claimed he had evidence that she was creeping around with some guy and declared
the marriage over and I belonged to him. According to my grandma, mom initially
refused but it was her word against his and he had expensive lawyers backing
him, as well as the Astor name. She had no backup whatsoever. So she agreed to
the terms of the divorce. He would give her money to finish school and she
would give up custody of me and not have any contact with me without dads
express consent. And just like that, she was out of my life.”

I took a sip of my milkshake,
my throat dry from talking.

While I respected the fact
that my mom had just let my dad take me without putting up a fight because she
didn't have any support at all, I didn't have to like it. And I didn't like it.
I could barely remember my mom, she might as well be dead for all I knew of
her. My dad flat out refused to tell me anything about her and as far as he was
concerned, he wasn't giving consent for her to see me. “If, when you turn 21,
you still want to meet this woman, be my guest,” he would say, all pompous and
smug. “But until then, as long as you're living under my roof, I forbid you to
have anything to do with her.”

“You haven't seen her since?”
CiCi bit her lip.

I shook my head, expelling a
harsh breath. “No. my dad won’t let me. So- I guess I'm stuck with not knowing
her till I turn 21.”

“Oh, Luke...” CiCi's eyes
filled with tears. “I'm so sorry.”

“She's probably better off
not knowing who I am, anyway,” I said self-deprecatingly. “I mean, did you ever
see such a screw up? My therapist told me that I'm pretty much back where I
started.”

“You're dealing with a lot of
things right now,” CiCi exclaimed, fire in her eyes. “Don't people realize
that?”

I loved that CiCi constantly
got fired up on my behalf. It made me feel like I was worth something.

“You do. That's all that
matters,” I whispered into her hair.

We were silent for a few
minutes, my heart thumping as I realized that I had actually told someone else
about my mother and I felt so much better about it.

As I was putting the picture
in the time capsule and screwing the lid of the capsule on, CiCi suddenly sat
up straight.

“Wait!” she commanded. I
looked at her as she paused uncertainly. “I'm going to put in my locket.”

“Why?” I asked, not getting
it. That locket was the only link CiCi had to her mother. Why would she want to
give it up?

“Because your picture with
your mom obviously means a lot to you.”

I nodded slowly. “So much,” I
said in a quiet voice.

“And this locket- it means a
lot to me too. I just think they should be in there together. Because we're in
this together.” She glanced up at me, a frustrated look on her face. “I just
don't know how to say it.”

“I understand what you want
to say,” I reassured her. And I did. “You know, we have so much in common. I'm
glad that we're in this together.” CiCi smiled up at me, her hazel eyes
shining. “Are you sure you want to do this though? 5 years. That’s a long
time.”

“No, I'm not sure. But it’s
better than me waking up one day to find that Nate's hocked it. He did that
once before, you know.”

Bastard.

“Maybe it
is
safer in
here,” I mused. “You want me to take it off you?”

Nodding, CiCi turned and
lifted her ponytail. “Please,” she said, her voice shaking.