Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3) (32 page)

Jake remained
quiet, thoughtful, which meant he didn’t buy it. He knew about my dreams about
my mom; he’d been the one to comfort me almost every night since my memory
returned, despite his own feelings about her.

The longer Jake
was quiet, leaving me with only the slightly increased thumping of his heart
against my palm flattened on his chest, the more desperate and terrified I was
to know what he was thinking. But I didn’t pry…I didn’t peek. I already knew
how he felt, and as much as I could understand his resentment toward my mom, I
couldn’t bear feeling it.

Finally, he broke
the silence. “We haven’t talked about anything since your memory’s come back.”
His fingers brushed the exposed skin on my arm.

Lifting my palm
from his chest, I studied the dirt on both of my hands, uncertain what to say. Every
topic would lead back to my mom, back to more reasons for him to hate her.

“We need to,” he
said, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Something’s upsetting you…is it
her
?”

Sitting up, I
turned to face him. “The shit I’m going through now is nothing you can help me
with. I’m sorry, Jake, but it’s…it’s complicated.”

“Your mom…” He
frowned. “I know—”

“I can’t hate her
Jake, she’s my mom. I’ve barely even talked to her…”

Jake’s eyebrows
drew together, and he leaned forward, his muscles straining as he pivoted me
completely around to face him. “You’d be surprised how easy it is.” For a brief
moment I saw the images of his own mother, a woman with a classic beauty that
was washed out by years of drug use.

Jake’s features
relaxed, and his eyes turned pleading. “But I don’t expect you to, Zoe. I know
what it means to you to have her back.”

Of its own
accord, my mind opened itself to his, searching for the truth in his words.

“But
you
hate her,” I said hollowly.

Jake didn’t have
to say anything, I already knew it was true.

“What happens if
I can’t hate her for what she did?” I asked, bitterness riddling my
voice…bitterness at my mom for putting me in this fucking situation, and
bitterness with myself for seeking what, deep down, I knew I would never have: a
real mom. “What if I never can?” I’d finally asked him the single most
important question I’d been obsessing over for the past week, but I didn’t
avert my gaze, and I didn’t close myself off from him. I needed to feel the
truth, to know if things were going to change between us because of her.

Our faces only
inches apart, Jake asked me very softly, “What are you afraid of?”

A dark, loitering
doubt harbored in my heart refused to go away.

“That I’ll leave?
That I’ll resent
you
? Why can’t you trust me—us?” His voice was gentler
than I’d expected.

“Is it so hard to
believe that I would worry about you resenting me because of who I am? What
happens if I forgive her? What happens if I want her to be in my life?”

Jake shook his
head. “That won’t happen.”

“And how do you
know?”

“You could never
truly forgive her, not after what she’s done to you, to your family,” he said.
“I know you’re scared, this is all new and confusing for you…I get that. But
you won’t forgive her. You won’t
choose
her.”

“You don’t know
that.”

Jake leaned back
against the tree, his body rigid and a scowl on his face. “I know you. You
won’t risk everyone you love, everyone who’s been there for you, for her.” He
paused. “You won’t risk Dani.” Slowly, his arms wrapped around me, and he
pulled me into him. “I’m in this with you. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

His tone was so
adamant, his gaze so determined, that I could only trust him, trust my heart,
despite the difficulties I knew lay in store for me…for us. Allowing my hope to
bloom into a small smile, I shrugged. “You’re probably right, but I won’t know
for sure until after tonight.”

In the shadows of
the dusk light, I watched Jake’s eyebrows draw together. “What’s tonight?”

I hesitated. “Gabe’s
taking me to talk to her.”

~~~~~

“So,” Gabe
said, standing in front of me on the same stretch of beach he’d constructed the
last time he’d entered my dreams, before Dani, Jason, and the others had joined
us outside Cañon City. “Is it all you expected and more?” He glanced around at
the dream world surrounding us.

I smiled
nervously, my emotions a dangerous mixture that had me second-guessing my
decision to do this. “At least there’s no unnerving replica of Dani sitting
beside me this time.”

Gabe laughed.
“I forgot about that. You didn’t like my Dani avatar?”

I shook my
head.

Gabe waited
for a moment, no doubt giving me time to change my mind and go back to dreams
that didn’t include meeting my mom for the first time while I was actually
me
.

Finally, he
said, “Are you ready?”

Taking a deep
breath, I shrugged. I’d come too far to change my mind when I was so close.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He smirked.
“I’ve heard you say that before,” he muttered. “Let’s go find her.”

Reaching out,
I touched Gabe’s arm. “Hey, Gabe?”

He stilled
mid-step, glanced down at where my hand rested on his arm, then at me.

“Thank you for
doing this.”

Gabe smiled.
“Say my name when you’re ready, and we’ll try to visit some of the members of
the Bodega Bay Town Council before we call it a night.”

I nodded, and
the next thing I knew, it was late afternoon, and I was standing in my backyard
at my childhood home in Bodega Bay. A young Jason swung in the tire swing
hanging from the cypress tree next to the deck. The sight made my chest
tighten. There were so many memories in that house, so much loneliness.

I watched as
Jason swung lazily back and forth, oblivious to me standing there. He was a
pretty cute kid for being such a butthead, and part of me thought I could see a
little bit of my dad in him at that age, something I’d never really picked up
on before.

But as strange
as it was to be home and to be watching my brother as a small child, it wasn’t
true to life, making it more disturbing than nostalgic. The difference was that
my dad was standing behind Jason, playing the role of the attentive father
spending time with his son in the yard after a day spent in his woodshop. His
work clothes looked true to life, and the tousled, light brown hair he’d always
run his fingers through was appropriate. But Dad standing with Jason while he
played in the yard was unlikely. If anything, Jason often went to the tire
swing to get
away
from
Dad—at least he had in his later years.

Scanning the
rest of the yard, I froze.

I’d tried to
prepare myself to see her, but my heart still thudded in my chest when I saw my
mom sitting on the edge of the deck. She wore dark slacks and a white
button-down shirt as if she had just come home from work herself. She was
watching my dad and Jason so intently, with such longing, I felt it bleeding my
soul.

Unlike the
single photograph I had of her, she appeared tired, her eyes devoid of the
peaceful glow that I knew once filled them.

Like she could
suddenly feel my greedy stare devouring the sight of her, she scanned the
breadth of the yard until she found me.

Remembering
the emotional woman who’d saved me in the golf course, I’d expected her
expression to give something away, to show some sign of the emotions that had
filled her eyes but that I hadn’t been able to understand at the time. But now,
her expression was surprisingly blank.

Slowly, she
rose to her feet and took a half a dozen steps toward me, her eyes holding mine
the entire time. She stopped a few feet away.

I tried to
think about what I wanted to say to her. I had a hundred questions, each of
which I was scared to learn the answers to: Does some small part of her love
the General at all? Did she ever try to come back to us? Does she regret
everything she’s done? Will Jason and I ever be safe? Does she love Peter more
than us?

“Zoe,” she
said quietly in greeting. “You seem…better.”

I nodded
absently but wondered exactly what that meant.
Better? Than when—the last time she saw
me?

“Are you
alright?”

I looked up at
her, and the weight of my trepidation, curiosity, longing, and confusion surged
to life, nearly overwhelming me to the point of speechlessness. Just looking at
her made me want to cry. I swallowed thickly. “I can’t believe I’m standing
next to you…after all this time…”

Her face
softened, and she offered me a weak smile.

I stared into
her piercing blue-green eyes and wanted so badly to know what she was thinking,
to know what she was feeling, to know that my presence affected her more than
the guarded expression on her face allowed her to show, but my Ability didn’t
work inside the dream world.

After studying
me in return, she made a sweeping gesture toward the back deck. “Do you want to
sit down?”

With only a
couple feet that felt like a mile between us, we started toward the steps of
the deck.

“I like the
new haircut,” she said, her voice lighter than I’d expected.

“Thanks.” It
was an automatic response. “I needed a change.”

“I can
imagine.”

I knew I’d
caught her off guard by showing up in her dream, but I’d expected our first
real conversation would include more than idle chatter about my hair. Maybe
some tears or an embrace, but she was composed and hesitant.

Slowly, she
climbed to the top step and sat down. She clasped her hands together and rested
them on her knee like we were two strangers having an uncomfortable conversation.
We
were
two strangers,
but she was also my mom, and I was her daughter.

I sat on the
second-to-last step and leaned against the railing. “I didn’t know it could
feel worse,” I thought aloud.

She
straightened as if she were bracing herself for a verbal lashing. “That what
could feel worse?” she asked tentatively.

“The
loneliness.”

Her brow
tensed. “I don’t pretend to know what you’ve gone through,” she said a bit
tenderly. “But I’m glad you came.”

I felt a
rekindle of hope. “You are?”

She nodded. “I
assumed that once your memory returned and you truly understood everything I’ve
done, well, I suppose I assumed you would never want to see me again. So you
can imagine my surprise.”

“But you’re my
mom,” I said a little breathily. “I’ve wanted to know you my entire life.” As I
sat there with sweating palms and a racing heart, she appeared mostly
unaffected, and I realized she was right—she had no idea what I’d gone through
without her, how I felt now sitting only feet from her.

Needing to
look away, to grasp onto my thoughts and feelings before I lost myself to them
completely, I stared down at the vibrant redwood slats beneath me. Her version
of the yard, her version of my family, was so much different than I remembered
it. “The backyard doesn’t really look like this anymore,” I said.

“No?”

I shook my
head, picking diligently at a blemish in the wood grain. “
The deck’s sun
-
bleached now and rotting in some spots
. When Jason left for the Army, Dad sort
of stopped taking care of the place.”

Remembering
one particular night of clandestine adventures with Dani, I leaned back and
over the length of the step above me, searching the railing for a part of my
past.

“What are you
doing?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

When I didn’t
see anything but smooth wood, I sighed, unsure why I’d expected one of my
memories to be reflected in her dream. “Dani and I carved our initials in this
support post one day.” I laughed softly, bitterly. “Dad pretended to be upset,
but I knew he didn’t really care. He didn’t care much about anything…”

“I didn’t
realize he would take my leaving the way he did,” she said. “If I would have
known—”

“You wouldn’t
have left?”

She looked
down to her hands, avoiding my gaze.

“Would you
still have left us if you knew Dad was going to be such a wreck?”

Straightening
minimally, she gave me a brief nod. “I didn’t have a choice, Zoe.” Her voice
was low, but pleading.

“What about
now? We know about you—what you’ve done—and we’re willing to take the risk. You
don’t have to stay with him, you don’t have to be a part of it anymore…we can
try to salvage our family,” I said, my vision beginning to blur.