Fantastical (Fantasyland 3)
Page 82I lifted my head. “If there’s anything I can do…” I trailed off because she knew, I’d said that a million times before. Two weeks ago, Phoebe and I had been with Marlene and Circe’s Dad, Harold, every step of the way but with every dead end, every disappointment, the pain got worse and Harold and Phoebe seeing me endure that had put their proverbial foot down. When I ignored them, Phoebe told on me to my Dad. I tried to ignore Dad but he told on me to Mom and well, that was that.
“Harold, Phoebe and I are doing it, Cora, I promise. And Brianna is asking around too, your folks, Harold’s buddies, Circe’s old friends. But if there is, I’ll tell you. I promise, honey, okay?”
I sucked in breath and my voice trembled when I replied in a whisper, “Okay.”
“We’ll keep looking,” she told me.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“We won’t give up.”
I closed my eyes tight again. Then I opened them and said, “Thanks.”
“Hang in there, chin up, we’ll get you home.”
Home.
God. Yes, home. Home was Tor. I needed to get home.
“Okay,” I said softly.
“Bye, honey.”
“Bye, Marlene.”
I flipped my phone shut. Then I opened it again and called the private investigator I hired. He didn’t pick up so I left a voicemail. It was my third message that day. I knew I was bugging him but I didn’t care and he was ticking me off because he didn’t seem to be doing anything and I knew this because the ass**le never called and therefore nothing was getting done.
He was overweight, had bad teeth and stared at my br**sts the whole time I sat in his office. He also demanded a five thousand dollar retainer which I thought was a little steep but I gave it to him. I’d heard from him once since and he said he was “working on it” though it sounded like he was at the racetrack.
Then I sucked in breath in order to move.
It hurt to move. It hurt to sit. It hurt to lie down. It hurt to sleep. It hurt to breathe.
And every day, it hurt worse.
I wasn’t bleeding, my skin wasn’t ripping open, my hair wasn’t falling out.
But I was dying. Dying inside, I could feel it.
Slowly, I walked through the bathroom, opened the door then walked out the door, through the bedroom and into my living room. I heard the murmuring voices and stopped, leaning against the wall to hold myself up. Then I listened.
“I’m worried,” Mom whispered.
“Me too,” Phoebe whispered back. “It gets worse every day.”
“Is she taking her vitamins?” Dad asked as if vitamins would help with this.
“I don’t know. She picked up the prescription the doctor gave her when he confirmed her pregnancy. I took her to get them myself. But I don’t know if she’s taking them.” Mom said.
“One of us should stay with her all the time,” Dad stated. “Make sure she’s taking her vitamins. Make sure she’s sleeping. Make sure she’s eating.”
“Agreed,” Phoebe said instantly. “I can move in, sleep here at night.”
“I can take the days,” Mom added.
“We’ll do weekends, Phoebe, give you a break,” Dad told my friend and I closed my eyes again.
“She has that other Cora’s money, Phoebe,” Dad went on. “But Dara and I saved twenty-five grand for Cora’s wedding. You, Harold and Marlene find someone who knows something, who can help and they won’t do it without getting paid, you need it, you add that, you hear?”
I opened my eyes.
My Dad. God, he was such a great, freaking guy.
And twenty-five grand for my wedding? That was way cool and that would have given me a kickass wedding, what he knew I always wanted.
Yeah, my Dad was a great, freaking guy.
“Yeah, Forrest,” Phoebe whispered.
There was silence then from Mom, her voice dripping with concern, “If she’s going through this, what’s Tor going through?”
I twisted my neck to press my cheek against the wall.
The very thought of that hurt too because I knew he was experiencing the same thing. My mighty warrior prince, struck low with this hideous pain. No one could endure this, no one, not even him.
And certainly not me.
“She told me she holds half his soul and he’s feeling the same as she is,” Phoebe answered my Mom.
“God, that man, I can’t imagine –” Mom whispered.
“Don’t,” my father cut in. “Only imagine a solution to this problem. Phoebe and her friends will find a way. Negative thinking never helped anything.”
“You’re right, my love,” Mom whispered.
My love.
I could take no more.
I forced myself forward and stopped in the kitchen doorway, seeing three pairs of startled eyes turn to me, eyes that were set in haggard, worried faces.
“You should be lying down,” Mom ordered, bustling forward.
“I need some alone time,” I told her.
“Sweetie, you can have it, go to your room and –” Mom began.
“I need you guys to leave,” I announced, her eyes got big and her torso shifted back.
“Cora, sweetie, that’s not –”
“I know you’re worried about me, I heard you talking and even if I didn’t, it’s impossible to miss. And okay, you want to watch over me, that’s cool. But give me an hour. Just an hour. I just need to rest and clear my head and not think of you in here whispering or worrying. I just need to be alone and quiet for an hour. Then you can come back. Can you give me that?”
“We can be quiet here, sweetheart,” Dad said softly.
“It’s not the same, Dad,” I replied.
“Cora, you’re not too –” Phoebe began and that was when I lost it.
I’d been holding it together, holding it by a thread, holding onto that thread for two weeks, living for two, long weeks with the constant feeling that thread was going to slip from my fingers. And, just then, I lost hold of that thread. It wasn’t nice, it wasn’t good but that was when I lost it.
“I know what I am, all right?” I shouted, shut my eyes against the worry on their faces and nodded my head sharply once. I opened my eyes and looked at them. “I’m hurting and I’m sorry and none of this is in anyone’s control and you’re all dragged into it and you’re worried about me and you’re giving up time and energy and it’s making me feel guilty on top of everything else and I just need to be free of that. Just for an hour.”