Chapter XV: Unexpected Goodbyes

It's weird... how life can be going along great, for the first time in years, and then suddenly just dump on you like a trash truck straight out of Hell.

Dad is dead.

It's not fair! He just retired! He hadn't even gotten a chance yet to go golfing in the goofy plaid shorts I bought him for his retirement, and he just up and died! The doctor said it was an embolism. One minute he was standing there in the kitchen. The next, he was dead on the floor. Just dead! We didn't even get to say goodbye! I was trying so hard to be good, to earn his trust again, and now he's dead... he probably died thinking of me as the same horrible daughter I've always been. And whereas I can't get rid of Grampa, dad is just gone. I'll never get to apologize to him, to tell him I love him. I can't stand it... I... I just wish...

Grampa's here. I've gotten so I can sense him, even before he speaks. “Lilah?” he says tentatively, close to my ear. I roll over. “Hunny, are you okay?”

“What the hell do you think, Grampa?”

“Oh, my dear...” he says, and his voice draws closer.

“Go away!” I growl, throwing a pillow in the direction of his voice. It thumps softly again the wall, and I hear the conversation in the living room pause for a moment before resuming. Everyone out there is probably just thinking I'm having another crazy-episode again. I'm used to it.

“Hunny, I just want to be here for you,” Grampa says, and I laugh coldly.

“Right, because you're so selfless and caring like that.” He doesn't say anything, and I pull the covers over my head. Dad is dead. Daddy...

I want to die too. Just drop dead, like my dad did, and not have to deal with any of this anymore: Grampa and his insane scheme to get me pregnant with his new body. Mom and her awkward attempts at parenting. The kids at school who torment me... I just want it all to end. Before I know it, I'm sobbing. “Lilah,” Grampa tries again, but I don't answer, and I feel him fade. Darkness mercifully steals over me, and when I open my eyes again, it's dark out.

Something woke me up, a noise... like a grunt. I roll over, groggy. My eyes feel swollen and I'm stiff. But all that fades into the background when I see her standing there, shadows and light from the lighthouse outside playing over her face, which is paler than I remember.

“Sandi?”

“Hey, sweetie,” she says, and her voice seems to have changed too. It's lower, richer... I sit up, confused, and slide out of bed. “Sandi? I... what are you doing here?”

She shrugs. “I was in town on break, and I heard about your dad. Thought I'd come see you and make sure you were okay.”

“Oh... okay...” I say. I'm feeling a little fuzzy-minded, like I've had too much to drink. I can still hear people out there in the living room. The funeral party hasn't ended yet, then. I look at my cell phone, and it's not as late as it feels.

“So... um...” I stammer, feeling a little embarrassed. I've had dreams where I wake up and she's there, but I've never actually expected it to happen, and now I have no idea what to say. “Uh... what... what are you doing in my room?”

“Well, checking out your painting for one,” she replies, and I blush. “Is that supposed to be me?” she asks, and I nod, dropping my gaze. I can't believe she actually recognized the figure in the painting... this one is still in the early stages, but I have whole stacks of paintings in my closet of her. I've never showed them to anyone of course. I don't want people to think I'm obsessed, but the truth is... maybe I am. Even after she left for school, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Ever.

“Sandi... um... you seem different,” I say, trying to change the subject. “What happened?”

All of a sudden, it's like someone flipped a switch. Her normally beautiful face tranforms into a vicious scowl, and she glares at me in a hostile, almost murderous way.

“Different? What? You don't like it?” she says, and I flinch at her tone.

“Um... no, I was just noticing. I mean--”

“What's wrong, Lilah? Can't deal with a little change? Am I too much woman for you now? Or too much of something else?”

Suddenly she bares her teeth and hisses at me, and I swear, in the darkness, I see fangs glinting on her lips.

“S-Sandi?” I say, backing away, but my knees hit the bed, and I fall gracelessly on my butt. She seems to relax immediately, and holds her arms open to me. I stand back up, hesitant to go to her, and she sighs.

“Oh, Lilah, I'm sorry,” she says gently. “I'm just a little on edge,” she explains. “I haven't had much to eat lately.”

Not knowing what else to say, and-- more importantly-- what won't set her off, I just shrug.

“Come here, beautiful,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. I raise my eyes to meet hers, and notice her eyes are different now too... maybe she's wearing tinted contacts? They look weird in the dim light... unnatural.

“I've missed you,” she says, staring at me intently, with a need in her eyes that is unmistakeable. I feel my heart beat faster, and as if reading my mind, she holds her arms out to me again. I don't hesitate this time, but rush into them, and she enfolds me, her grasp almost squeezing the air out of me. I feel the tears start to come again.

“Sandi!” I manage, and them the sobs make any other words impossible. She merely holds me tightly, stroking my hair and murmuring comfortingly.

We stay like that for a long time, neither of us speaking, until finally I hear people moving around in the living room. People are starting to leave. Sandi releases me, and like a huge stone, I feel the weight of everything settle back onto my heart. “I should go,” Sandi whispers, and I shake my head, desperate for her to stay. She smiles sadly at me, then raises a hand to stroke my cheek. “You're getting more beautiful everyday, Lilah,” she whispers, then turns and leaves. Everything in me wants to run after her, grab her, and hold on until my last breath. I don't want to let her go. Ever. But I merely step back, and fall onto the bed, overwhelmed. Grandpa doesn't come back, and as the house grows quiet, I fall back asleep.

Bonus:

I couldn't figure out how to fit this one into the story, but the picture was too bizarre not to share.

Moriah greets the reaper.

Chapter III: The Seeds of Change

I reported the next morning like normal, but once again found myself rushing out of the little wagon to vomit. Cornelia was standing there taking a smoke break, and she looked at me askance. “You okay?” she asked. I nodded, but before I could reply another bout of illness shut me up. Cornelia made a noise of disgust and flicked her cigarette into the bushes. “God, go home. I swear, if you make me sick...” I heard her muttering as she went back inside. Beau came out next and immediately came to stand next to me, pulling my long hair up out of my face. “Thanks,” I said weakly.

“Yep,” he replied. “You alright now?”

I thought for a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” I stood up. “Hey, why don't you take a couple days off, make sure you're not coming down with something,” he suggested. “Not like we're doing a whole lot of business right now anyway. Things tend to pick up more around the new year. People wondering what to make for resolutions and such.” He chuckled.

I nodded, feeling the nausea creeping up on me again. “I think I'll do that. Thanks,” I muttered. I had nothing in the wagon to collect so I started walking for home.

“Just give me a call if you need anything!” Beau called after me. I waved, feeling too sick to yell back. I barely made it home before another bout of illness had me at the toilet. I went to bed for the rest of the morning, and by afternoon I felt better.

I checked the little fridge I had bought and discovered I was quite out of anything edible, and being as the only food I could conjure was apples, I figured I should probably stop by the grocery store while I was feeling better to stock up on some necessities. As I was walking in the store, a vision hit me, occupying my whole attention, as they normally do, so that I stood there, dumbly, holding a shopping basket and looking, I'm sure, quite foolish.

The vision was only momentary, and disjointed, as they often are, and when I came to, I blushed, realizing the cashier and several other people were looking at me funny as I stood there spacing with my empty basket. I meekly made my way into the aisles and picked up a few cans of food, all I can afford until I get paid, which was likely to be even longer of a wait now. After I had my food, I made my way to where they keep the pregnancy tests.

* * *

I'm pregnant.

I'm not sure how I feel about it exactly. Part of me I think is still in shock. And part of me is scared. Xander is, by his own profession, not a “family guy”, and I can barely afford to feed myself. I have no idea how I would take care of a little one. Yet...

Somehow, the pure wonder of knowing there is another life growing inside me, one that the Magic which flows through me conspired to put there, makes it all okay. Though I know it is only logical to be terrified and worried right now, all I can do is rub my belly and wonder at the little tell-tale fluttering feelings of the baby moving, even now.

I am, however, worried about one thing. I still have to tell Xander.

* * *

Thank the Magic! There truly are no coincidences! It has brought everything together for the good of me and my baby after all.

Xander called me again, but this time there were no adorably awkward overtures. His voice was sullen and he spoke quickly. “Moriah? Hey... uh, can I... can I come... stay with you? For a while?”

“Of course you can, you know that. But what's wrong?”

“I'll tell you when I get there,” he assured me. His van drove up in no time.

“Hey,” he greeted me, that sullen note still in his voice.

I smiled, and greeted him with a hug. He stepped into my arms and stood there for a minute, not moving. He was tense, I could feel his muscles trembling with nervous energy under my touch. When he spoke, his words were muffled against my shirt.

“My dad kicked me out. I got caught in a job and the police took me in. They let me go, but I have a court date scheduled for next week, and my dad came and picked me up, took me home, and told me to pack my stuff and get out.”

I bit my lip, nervous. I had been hoping to tell him my news, but this wasn't looking like a very good time to burden him with yet another trouble.

“Y'know what? It's good, though,” he said, straightening, and I noted the firm set of his jaw. I frowned, concerned.

“No, seriously,” he insisted. “I'm almost thirty, and I was still living at home with my parents. It's pathetic really. This'll be good. I'll get out from under my dad's thumb. I'll figure things out, maybe buy my own place. Well...” He looked at me apologetically. “Eventually, I mean. I might have to shack up with you for a while. I... is that...?”

I smiled spreading my hands to indicate my bare strip of land and the little shelter. “I don't have much, Xander, but everything I have is yours. You know that.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You are my angel,” he said, taking me in his arms. “What would I do without you?”

I looked away. “Xander,” I interrupted. “I have something I need to tell you. It wouldn't be right for me to keep it from you, especially now.”

“What's up?” he asked, dropping his arms.

“Xander,” I said, staring at the ground, afraid to look at his eyes. “I'm... I'm pregnant.”

I raised my eyes, dreading the reception my words would find, but to my surprise, he was looking at me with that same look of wonder and interest that had first filled me with love for him.

“You're pregnant?” he echoed. “Really?”

I half smiled, still unsure. “Yes, really.”

“And it's mine? I mean, well, you know, just to make sure?”

I nodded, a little insulted. I may be a gypsy, but that doesn't make me a whore.

“Well that's... that's great! Wow! I'm gonna be a dad!”

I felt tears of relief spring to my eyes as he said those words, and a bark of nervous laughter sprang out of me. He laughed too, and for nearly a full minute, we couldn't do anything else but laugh together, until tears were rolling down our cheeks.

When our laughter had died down, Xander reached out a hand hesitantly. “Can I... can I feel it?”

“Of course!” I said, taking his hand and pressing it to my belly. As if it knew who was making contact with it, the baby gave a little jolt, and Xander whooped, jumping. For five minutes straight, he sat there fussing over my growing baby bump like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

That night it was decided. Xander would move in with us. His mom, unable to make Xander's dad change his mind on kicking their son out, had at least given him a couple thousand dollars, along with her old van to pack all his stuff into. We sold the van, figuring we could both carpool to work, and began work on a real house. “No baby of mine is gonna sleep in a shelter like a homeless person!” he said. “I may be a criminal, but I'm not gonna be a deadbeat dad!” I beamed at that.

He still hasn't said anything about getting married, and I haven't brought it up. To be honest, it doesn't matter so very much to me. The Magic has already had its way, and we are a family for better or worse. A piece of paper won't change that. Xander may come around on his own one day, and as for me, I am happy just being with him. We are beginning to build a home together, Xander and I, and the child we have made.

Chapter II: Taming a Wild Heart

I woke up late the next morning. The temperate climate of Newcastle is a pleasant change from some of the more extreme weather I've slept in, and I might have slept too late were it not for the occasional hum of tires on asphalt as my neighbors pulled out of their houses, waking me.

I rose and got ready for my first day of work.

When I arrived at the wagon, Beau and another woman were just walking up. Beau smiled at me in greeting, but the other woman, with short, choppy black hair, merely gave me a silent glare and walked inside. Confused, I looked to Beau for explanation. He chuckled. “That's Cornelia,” he explained. “Don't mind her. She's a Goth.”

Making a face, I followed the hostile woman into the tiny workplace. Our first day was fairly uneventful, which was good, because it gave me time to ask questions and get familiar with my role in Beau's little business. By the time the clock read five, I felt fairly equipped in my role as a Horoscope Reader, and even Cornelia was beginning to warm up to me a little (meaning she didn't give me a nasty look every few minutes).

When I walked out of the caravan, I was at a loss of anything to do with the rest of my day. I walked home slowly, savoring the sights and sounds of the early evening, but it was a short walk, and soon I was standing at my mailbox. Staring at my bare little shelter, I felt suddenly lonely. Inspiration struck in the form of my cell phone ringing. I answered it and was pleasantly surprised to hear Xander's voice on the other end. “Uh, hi, Moriah? It's Xander,” he said awkwardly. “Listen, I got off work early today, and I was, uh, wondering if you wanted to hang out maybe?”

I stifled a gleeful laugh at the adorable timidity in his voice. “Of course! Would you like to come to my place?” I asked. He agreed and I gave him directions. 

Less than twenty minutes later, he drove up in his mother's old van. One arm was behind his back, and I raised an eyebrow as he came closer. When he brought his arm out, he had a bouquet of beautiful white flowers in his hand. “For you,” he said, giving a funny little bow. I grinned and accepted them.

For a while, things went well. We chatted again, him telling me about a job he'd pulled on a convenience store in the neighboring town. As he spoke, I was secretly doubting myself. Was he really the one the visions had told me about? Or was I merely so blinded by my attraction to this diamond in the rough that I had convinced myself he was the one the visions had meant for me to choose? Suddenly, he rubbed his neck, explaining that he had wrenched it pulling items off the shelves that afternoon, and I saw my chance.

One of my visions had shown me a special mark that would be on the man I was meant to marry. A birthmark of sorts, located on his right shoulder blade. I hadn't thought of it in years, but it popped into my mind just then, and I jumped on the chance to offer him a soothing massage. He gladly accepted, and as I rubbed the tension from his muscled shoulders, I subtly examined the skin of his back, inching the tank top away from his right shoulder blade. Nothing... my heart sank. And then, there! Yes! There it was, though I had nearly missed it in the waning light. My instincts were right! Xander was the man I was meant to be with! I rejoiced on the inside, but I strove to remain calm as I finished rubbing his shoulders until he stretched languidly and turned to thank me.

More determined than ever to see this through to the next step, I barely hesitated when I leaned in to kiss him.

He kissed me back, a slow smile spreading over his face as I pulled away. “Wow... Moriah, I... wow...”

I merely smiled and walked away to sit on the grass a short distance from him. He joined me, sitting close by, and we watched the stars for awhile. I told him about my job as a Horoscope reader and tried to explain the alignment of planets in the various houses, but eventually we just ended up gazing at the sky together, enjoying the silence.

When hours had passed and it was full dark, we rose, knowing he should go, and neither of us ready to part just yet.

“Xander?” I began, and he looked at me with those blue eyes. I found myself unable to hold anything back. “I came here to Newcastle for a reason,” I admitted. “My... powers... they've been leading me to someone nearly my whole life. I know now that someone is you. I want to be with you... to be yours...”

I reached for his hand, but to my surprise, he pulled it away, holding both hands off as if to ward off a disease.

“Whoa, whoa, Moriah, hold on!” he protested. “We just met! I mean, tonight was great and all, but... I'm not exactly the family type. You've seen my parents, you can guess why! I'm... I'm just not ready for any kind of commitment, much less... well... whatever it is you were expecting.”

I stared at him, numbed by his words. “Well, uh... guess I better be going...” he said, and nearly ran to the curb and his van. I watched him drive away with a mixture of confusion and hurt. Surely the signs weren't wrong? He had the birthmark. I had seen it with my own eyes. Moreover, he was at least as attracted to me as I was to him. What had gone wrong?

As I got ready for bed, I kept thinking about it, and I concluded that the Magic had never steered me wrong before. Surely, this must be part of the plan, a challenge I must simply move past. If one could even call it a challenge. Captivating and seducing a young man isn't exactly what most buxom gypsy girls call a challenge. But Xander obviously had Commitment Issues. So I would merely have to tread carefully and bide my time. The opportunity would present itself, I was sure. I had but to wait.

That opportunity presented itself the next day. I was off work, so, steeling my courage, I went to Xander's house as soon as a reasonable hour had arrived. Luck was with me, so I found him at home. His mother let me right in this time, barely taking a second look at me. Xander was just coming downstairs as I entered, and his eyes went wide when he saw me.

“Uh, Moriah! Hi,” he greeted me, looking nervous. I could see this would be easier than I had feared.

“Hi,” I said brightly, adding an abashed tone to my words. “Listen,” I started. “You're right. I'm sorry about last night. I just got caught up in the mood.” I giggled girlishly. “Can we start over?”

He strode over and took my face in both of his hands and kissed me on the forehead. “You,” he said, “are an angel. I'm sorry too. I could have been more tactful.”

I shrugged, dismissing his words from the night before as he had just dismissed mine.

“You, uh, you wanna go upstairs?” he asked, eying the living room where his mom was doubtless hearing our entire conversation.

I nodded, and he took my hand, leading me up to his room. The bed was less a conscious choice than the only comfortable place to sit in his utilitarian bedroom. But it suited my purposes. As we chatted, I slowly inched closer to him until we were eventually cuddling. When I leaned over during a lull in conversation and nibbled lightly on his earlobe, he looked at me in surprise. I lifted an eyebrow invitingly. Needless to say, that was all the encouragement he needed.

After our amusement upstairs, we went downstairs to find his mother and father sitting in the living room watching TV. Ignoring their presence, Xander grabbed a pillow off a nearby chair and before I knew what was happening, he hit me with it. I laughed and grabbed my own weapon from a matching chair. It was on!

Bessie just sat there tuning us out, but Buster stood, glaring disapprovingly at our childish play. When glaring didn't stop us, he turned to Bessie. “I've had enough of this,” he growled, and left the room. Xander and I kept pillow fighting.

Eventually things wound down, and I invited Xander over to hang out at my place. He accepted the invitation with a relief that was evident. I feel sorry for him, with such a bad relationship with his parents. I feel sure that, had I known my own parents, we would have gotten along well. Gypsies don't tend to have the sorts of conflcts that you see in Outsider families, probably because there are less rules, and the ones there are are known by all. Plus you have the entire Family enforcing them instead of just one or two parents. Gypsy children are raised by a real community.

We hung out again at my place, talking, walking around, staring at the stars as night fell. Poor Xander was exhausted. Apparently he had had to go back into work the night before after he left me, and hadn't gotten back home until early morning. When I had arrived at his house, he was just getting up.

I told him to go ahead and snooze in my sleeping bag while I did a few things that needed doing. I weeded my garden and cleaned my little shelter until I was certain he was fast asleep. Then I brought out my wand. I'd been practicing this particular spell since I was a little girl. It's nothing very complicated, just a simple Good Luck Charm. But I had finally found the one I was to be with, and I didn't want anything to happen to him, especially given his career and the poor way he took care of himself. So I charmed him, as he slept.

Eventually I had to wake him up from his nap, since we both needed to go to work the next day. He gave me a drowsy hug, then drove him while I climbed into my sleeping bag, still warm from his body heat.

I was sleeping soundly until I suddenly awoke in the early morning hours. It was still dark, and I felt sick! I rushed out of my sleeping bag and barely made it to the toilet in my shelter before my stomach heaved its contents out of my body. Settling back in after I had washed up as best I could, I wondered what I could have eaten that day that would cause such a reaction. But I was still so tired, so I only had a moment to wonder before sleep took me again. I did not dream.