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Aunt Bea looked perplexed, as if what he said hadn’t made any sense to her at all. “Well, what on earth are you waiting for? The criminals will always be there but I won’t. And I want a baby to play with and someone to sit on my lap and get me those cute little Hallmark cards like I always see in those sweet commercials. And I would be just like a grandmother because I said so, and we both know what I say is final.” She spoke with such conviction and determination Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Besides, there was no one else in the world he would want to be a grandmother to his future kids. Aunt Bea was the best.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, needing to get that cleared up. He and his brothers had experienced enough loss after both their parents died four years ago within months of each other. One from stage four cancer that had gone unnoticed until it was far too late to do anything about and the other from a sudden brain aneurysm. “As for finding the right woman, I’m working on it,” Luke added.
That got Aunt Bea’s attention. “How?”
Luke cracked a smile. Was she expecting a twelve step plan or something? “I mean I’m open to it but I do have a job and I can’t just quit to go looking for some woman that may or may not exist.” That had him thinking about the woman in his head again, and that voice. As long as he lived, he’d never forget it. But she still hadn’t answered him. Maybe he had imagined the whole thing and his rescue team had arrived just in time out of sheer luck.
“She exists,” Aunt Bea said. The confidence in her tone almost made it seem like she was picking up on his own thoughts and answering the silent question he’d been asking himself.
When his lunch tray came, Aunt Bea left to go meet up with her knitting club, leaving Luke to think more about the voice in his head. It had been hours since he’d tried to reach out to her and his hope of her being real was fading. Then out of nowhere it was like someone turned on a channel in his head and she rushed in, her voice a smooth, sweet sound.
I’m here. I just didn’t want to interrupt your visit.
The smile that stretched across Luke’s face in that moment was like someone opening the blinds in a dark room. She was either real or the result of the concussion he’d sustained during his capture. Either way, he’d take it. Thank you for whatever you did. I still don’t know how you did it. How you’re doing it now. He heard a muffled laugh, soft and sweet against his ear, and he leaned into it. Please. The least you can do is tell me your name. I told you mine. It’s only fair. The stillness that followed his request was deafening and he worried he’d said the wrong thing.
I don’t think anyone’s ever asked for my name after I helped them. I guess it didn’t matter to them after the fact. Her reply came in soft and wispy, like a dandelion that had been disturbed by a gentle breeze. But it was the surprise behind the sadness in her tone drifting into his own mind that finally convinced him she had to be real. There was no way his imagination concocted this woman, complete with such human emotions.
Well, I’m not them and you definitely matter to me. I’m alive because of you. There were no words, nothing he could ever do, to repay her for what she’d done for him.
You’re welcome. Her sweet smile reached his thoughts, sending a warmth through him that he knew he could easily grow addicted to. Her voice sounded like a sweet melody in his ears, and he longed to hear more of it after having his head filled with screaming curses and threats by the various gang members. He wanted to hang on to her if for no other reason than to have a direct link to something good and special that he didn’t think existed in the world.
An awkward silence followed, resulting in a blankness in his mind he was growing more and more uncomfortable with. Are you still there?
Yes.
The word registered as more of a whisper and he tasted a bit of salt in his mouth. He swallowed and realized it was the taste of tears. Her tears? What the hell? Was she crying? Are you okay?
Luke sensed the nod of her head and then nothing. He lay back, not wanting to pry into a perfect stranger’s life, even if her sadness made him want to jump out of this hospital bed and go hunt down whatever was upsetting her. It had only been a few minutes since she last spoke to him and he already felt bereft of her voice. How long can we talk like this? Is it hard for you to maintain this connection with me?
She was quiet for several moments. He remained still, afraid to miss her voice when she spoke again. Then like a soft breeze through an open window, her thoughts came sailing in. The hardest part is initiating contact. It gets easier with time. Once the channel is built and solidified, if maintained, it can continue indefinitely. I think.
You’re not sure? The question popped into his mind before he could think better of it. How did someone do what she could do and not know how to control it?
No. I don’t usually maintain contact with anyone. People tend to move on once they’re safe. But you seem to be holding on to this connection.
Wait, what? I’m the one holding on? Luke had no idea how, but it made about as much sense as any of this did. He did want to stay connected to her. I guess I am. He didn’t want to annoy her or interrupt her life, but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet either.
Yes, you are. I was ready to let go when the police rescued you, but the connection was too strong. That’s when I realized that it was because even subconsciously, you were holding on to me.
Oh. Luke wasn’t sure what to say to that. I’m sorry? He offered the apology, not really meaning it. If he hadn’t held on to their connection, he probably wouldn’t be able to talk to her now.
Another one of her warm smiles lit up his mind and his entire body relaxed into its feeling. It’s okay. You sound better. Stronger.
Luke nodded, though he didn’t really want to talk about himself. He craved to know more about her. Why won’t you tell me your name?
It’s better that way. The less people who know about me, the better. There was tension in her tone now, waking his protective instincts.
Why? Because you’re the real deal? Luke had met plenty of people claiming to be psychic, but no one ever came close to being like her. No one had ever refused to share their name or guarded their identity the way she did. A warm puff of air brushed against the side of his neck as if she was standing right there next to him. It was something he was wanting more and more. I want to meet you. In person. He didn’t care where in the world she was. He would go to her.
Not possible. Her response came so fast and felt so final. I don’t meet the people I help. It’s a rule I have.
I see. He tried to hide his disappointment. It wasn’t like she owed him anything. The woman had just saved his life. What other rules do you have? If they were going to keep communicating like this, Luke wanted to make sure he respected her boundaries. The truth was that he enjoyed the mere sensation of being lost in conversation with her. They could talk about anything. He’d even let her pick the topics.
That’s pretty much it. I don’t share my name or let people see my face.
Her admission was like a punch to the gut. He was sure this woman had a beautiful face to go with her sweet, soothing voice. Dang. I was really hoping for both.
Sorry.
