The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted (45 page)

Aimee intentionally left it so she wouldn't be interrupted. She had a lot on her mind to prepare for the day. “I know. I'm sorry.”

“So, how was your run?”

“Great. Missed you running with me though.”

“Yeah, well, that's why I tried to call. I set my alarm to come over, but I slept right through it. Sorry, but I’ll be there in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Hey, what time are you taking your aunt back to Portland?”

“We’re leaving as soon as I get a shower, probably around eleven. Why?” Aimee asked while she ratted through her drawer for some clean underwear.

Dylan answered with a question, “You sure you don’t want me to go?” She could tell by his voice he was fishing for an invite. “I’ll let the two of you gab while I sleep in the back.”

Aimee didn’t want bruised feelings, but she wanted Aunt Lauren all to herself. She was determined to get an answer today, either the truth about her mom’s death, or at least more of the story then what was on the death certificate she had long since destroyed. So unfortunately, as much as she wished Dylan could come, Aimee needed to go by herself with Aunt Lauren. Like Dad, Dylan continued to fret whenever she planned to be away by herself. She guessed she had given him a good rea
son to worry, actually
more
than one good reason.
“I’m sure you would really dig listening to all of our juicy chick talk. I bet Aunt Lauren will want all of the nasty details about Dad and Dr. Morris, and James and Sacha, and then proceed to tell me about the slut her son, David, is married to, and I’m sure you don’t want to ruin her fun. And if
you’re there, she won’t be able to interrogate me about
our
relationship. I know she is dying to Dump
ster dive so she has some good gossip for my family in Texas, especially about Dad and Dr. Morris.”

“Hell, I guess you’re right. I would be like the third wheel, huh? I don’t want to spoil your aunt’s afternoon. You’re gonna be okay coming back by yourself?” Concern was apparent in his tone.

“Sure, I have my new car…” Her dad surprised Aimee with her
second
car for graduation on Saturday. A practically new Camry was sitting in the driveway when Aimee went out for her morning
run…really sweet with leather seats, sunroof, and plenty of useful safety features, which she certainly needed. Aimee continued, “…and as soon as Aunt Lauren boards, I’ll get on the road. Should be back by dark.” Aimee tried to reassure him.

“Promise
?” The rise on the second syllable made her suddenly realize how much he
worried when she wasn’t with him.

“Promise,” Aimee answered as convincing as possible. “I’ll call you when I get on the road, and you can talk to me the whole way back.”

Actually, Aimee kind of welcomed his penchant to hover today. She was nervous about her plan to press Aunt Lauren for the truth, but she couldn’t back out now. No way. She had to question the story about her mother’s death even if it meant destroying her relationship with Aunt Lauren. She had a gut feeling she might be mentally fried on the drive back. Dylan could keep her focused.

“Call me when you get on the road, and when you get there, and when you start back, okay?”

“All right.”

“Aimee, I love you with all my heart. I just want you to be careful. Come back in one piece.”

“I realize my track record doesn’t make it easy when we’re apart. I promise I’ll be fine. I love you, too, with all my heart. I’ll call you in a bit when we head out. I better go now.”

“Okay. Later,” replied Dylan, and then he ended the call.

Aimee sighed and put down the phone. She peered into the mirror at her haggard appearance. No sleep the past two nights weighed heavily under her eyes. And even more nerve wrecking was
keeping everyone, especially Dylan, clueless about her
gift,
and all of the secrets that came with it
.
She
wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it hidden. Aimee felt certain the lid would get blown off eventually, and everything wonderful in her life would go down like flushing a dump in a toilet. She
looked at Zonker stretched out on the bed sound asleep. Aimee thought,
Geez, what I’d give to be you
right now
.

After a quick shower, Aimee slipped quietly into the kitchen and snatched a pear from the fruit bowl
. Aunt Lauren was washing a glass. Aimee reached in around her to rinse it off, and Aunt Lauren jumped, then spun around.

Aimee said, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“So, are you ready to go?” Aimee asked before taking a bite of the pear.

Just then Zonker appeared and plopped down in the middle of the kitchen floor and peered up at both with pleading eyes. Aunt Lauren sniggered. “He never misses the chance to beg, does he?”

“Nope. Radar ears, supersonic nose, and bottomless stomach.”

“Kinda like your dad, huh?” Aunt Lauren jibed.

Aimee defended her dad feebly. “Yeah, but Dad’s trying to behave…sorta.”

Aunt Lauren rolled her eyes, and continued on to James’s room to get her bags.

As expected, they were barely five miles north of Medford when Aunt Lauren shifted the conversation to Dylan and Aimee. By the time they made it to Eugene she had exhausted every question possible about Dylan and his family, and reluctantly gave Dylan a passing grade. The topic changed to James and Sacha. Aunt Lauren was pleased Aimee would be living with them in the fall and not shacking up with Dylan, as she described two unmarried people cohabiting like her brother and his fiancée. By Salem they finally got around to the topic Aimee knew interested Aunt Lauren the most - Dad and Dr. Morris. Aimee chuckled to herself as she glanced at the clock. It only took three hours and five minutes.

“So, looks like Mike has finally decided to get a life,” Aunt Lauren said as she peered over at Aimee.

Aimee kept her eyes cemented to the road and replied, “Yeah.”

“So,” she continued to probe, “how do you like her?”

“She’s okay. I mean, it was kinda weird at first because she was my teacher. You know what I mean? A little freaky having your dad date one of your teachers. But…” Aimee paused, and thought about the look on Dad’s face when he kissed Dr. Morris at the hospital before they took him away for his procedure. “…but, I think he really cares for her. At least he’s happy. I mean, Dad has spent his entire life devoting all of his attention to James and me. I've often wondered how he has done it. I know I would have hung it up if I had to raise two kids all by myself, especially a pain in the butt like I was a few years ago.” Aimee felt Aunt Lauren study her face for a long moment, then sigh quietly before turning to look out her window. Aimee didn’t take her eyes from the road. She sucked in a deep breath, swallowed, pulled around a car putting along like a turtle in their lane, then began, “Aunt Lauren…”

“Yes?” she answered while continuing to stare out her window.

Aimee paused for a few seconds. She felt her aunt's eyes back on her. Aimee's stomach rolled
like she was going to hurl, and her tongue suddenly stuck to the roof of her mouth. Like
someone
possessed her, a voice took control of her tongue and Aimee said calmly, “I saw her.”

“Saw
who
?” Aunt Lauren’s voice pitched on the second word.

Aimee paused. She felt a sharp prod in the ribs and again she got out what she wanted to say. “My mom,” Aimee answered, and she quickly glanced over at Aunt Lauren, who looked strangely amused.

“Your mom,
Marie
?” she finally asked with a slight smile turned up on her lips. Aimee had
caught her off guard. She wasn’t sure how to respond, but obviously wasn’t taking Aimee's revelation with any shred of seriousness.

Aimee couldn’t turn back now. “Yep, Mom…Marie Aimee Schmidt. Your sister.”

She heard her aunt lightly guffaw. Aimee looked at her with dead seriousness. Aunt Lauren's grin quickly dissolved and her eyebrows dropped forward. “Aimee, you aren’t serious, are you? I mean, you musta dreamt you saw her.” She turned and looked out her window, then said, “I still have dreams with Marie. Some of them seem so real…”

Aimee didn’t let her finish. “No, Aunt Lauren. This wasn’t a friggin’ dream. I saw her. She’s in some kinda locked room. She didn’t have a lot of time to talk, but she told me she had waited eighteen years to meet me.” Aimee peered over at her. Aunt Lauren’s face had no hint of amusement now. Her eyes were as wide as her open mouth.

Suddenly a car honked from behind them. Aimee jerked her wandering car back into her lane, and pitted her eyes back to the road in front of her. Aunt Lauren locked her eyes back to the road, too, and both hands held the armrest in a death grip. After a bit she took a deep breath and returned her attention back to Aimee.

“Dammit, Aimee, you’re gonna get us killed!” she exclaimed. The car rolled down the road in silence for a couple minutes. Finally, Aunt Lauren broke the quiet. “Aimee, you must be totally stressed out. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to be back in therapy?”

Aimee expected this response to her confession, but she was prepared to stick to her story. “No,
Aunt Lauren. I don’t. I’m
perfectly
fine.” Her calm demeanor was waning fast, but she couldn’t lose it.
She had to stay in control. Slowly, she counted to ten, and then proceeded. “I’ve been doing some research.”

After a couple seconds Aunt Lauren asked, “Oh yeah, research on what?”

“The Internet is a super tool.” Aimee stopped intentionally to let the silence fester Aunt Lauren's interest.

“So, what does this have to do with Marie?” she finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

She let her aunt take the bait totally before she answered. Aunt Lauren's eyes seared into the side of Aimee's face. Her cheeks felt on fire. “Did you know that death records are public?” Aimee asked nonchalantly.

Aunt Lauren anxiously responded, “Yes, so?”

“Yeah, well, there is no record of a death on November 22, 1987 in Galveston, Texas for a Marie Aimee Schmidt, nor does the paper report any death or a funeral around that time. Matter-of-fact…” Aimee stopped and took a breath, “…I even called the municipal office to request a replacement death certificate.” Suddenly Aunt Lauren’s face lost all of its Texas coastal glow. She didn’t dare look at Aimee now. Her eyes stared out into the road in front of them. Her fingers matched her face from the paralyzing clutch she had on the armrest. She didn’t even appear to be breathing.

Aimee merged from the interstate onto the turn off for the airport. Aunt Lauren hadn’t spoken a word for the past five miles. She looked like a marble statue; cold and lifeless. They drove in a morbid silence until they approached the entrance to the airport.

Aimee broke the quiet. “Wanna get something to eat?”

Aunt Lauren’s color was gradually coming back, but she hadn’t moved an inch. Only her lips mouthed an answer. “I'm not really hungry.”

“Hmm, I guess I’m not either,” Aimee muttered as they pulled into the lane for departing flights.

They continued driving in silence. As soon as Aimee pulled into the parking garage, Aunt Lauren leaped out of her seat exiting the car like it was on fire. Aimee looked in the rearview mirror. Aunt Lauren was fidgeting by the trunk, looking at her watch, then towards the terminal, then into the car at the back of Aimee's head. Aimee popped the lid, and then opened her door to help. Aunt Lauren had her bags and was practically running for the terminal before Aimee could get the trunk closed and lock the car.

“Hey, wait up. I’ll walk with you,” Aimee shouted after her.

Aunt Lauren stopped and turned. For the first time in the past thirty minutes she tried to look Aimee in the face. Her jaw was taut. Her eyes shifted nervously. She suddenly stepped towards Aimee and kissed her quickly on the cheek, and then with politeness befit of a stranger, not her favorite relative, she whispered in Aimee's ear, “Thanks for toting me back and forth. I really appreciate it. I should have rented a car and not put you out. Tell Mike thanks for his hospitality. Remind him his in-laws back home would love a visit.” She stepped back and stared into Aimee's eyes. Her brown eyes looked like dark cesspools. Her face hadn’t softened a bit. She growled, “Aimee, don’t mess with this. Let the dead remain dead.” With that she reeled around and sharply whisked off towards the entry to her carrier. Aimee stood frozen in place while she watched her aunt briskly walk away. The steel-like fortitude suddenly drained from her limbs. She felt like she was going to collapse in the middle of the lane. A taxi flew past Aimee and honked as she dropped to the curb. Ducking her head between her knees, Aimee tried to breathe the life back into her body. As always, when she faced a crisis, the moisture behind her eyelids bubbled up and blurred her vision.

A young businessman, racing for his flight, halted suddenly when he saw Aimee crumble to the concrete. He leaned over, his hand grazed her shoulder. “Miss, are you okay? Do I need to get help?” He planted his hand on her back to support Aimee for fear she was passing out. He waited for her to answer. She gradually looked up and forced a weak smile.

“I…I’m okay. Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Aimee started to get up. He kept his hand firm on her back until she was upright and steady. Aimee glanced into his face. He looked worried, but he released his hand and picked up his briefcase, handed Aimee her purse, and said, “Well, I guess you’re fine.” He smiled and continued, “Take care, okay?”

“Thanks.” Aimee smiled slightly, then slowly started back to her car. He darted across the meridian to continue on his journey, but glanced back quickly to check that she was still upright. Aimee wobbled to her car, opened the door, and literally dropped into her seat. She slammed the lock down and melted into the leather underneath her.

She had an answer, not
THE
answer to the million dollar question, but she had the answer to the
hundred thousand dollar question. Aunt Lauren didn’t really admit to anything, but she had said enough to convince Aimee what she suspected was true. Aimee couldn’t let the dead remain dead, certainly not anyone who was the victim in a horrible cover up, and certainly not if that person was her mother, who she had only known through an old black and white photo.