Marked by Destiny Read online

  She didn’t need or want these complications in her life. First thing in the morning, she would book the next available flight back to New York, no matter the cost and no matter what Thomas Flannigan wanted. Nothing good was going to come out of this trip. She might as well start making her excuses and fly home.

  “Avery,” her aunt hollered, putting a stop to her reflections. “Dinner’s on the table.”

  As Avery walked into the kitchen, she eyed the food on the table and said, “It smells wonderful. I haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast and I haven’t had a meal like this since I left home for college.”

  “Please sit. Make yourself comfortable,” her aunt said.

  Avery sat, watching her aunt carefully slice two thick pieces of pot roast and place one on each of their plates. She added a serving of roasted vegetables and potatoes. When she finished plating the food, her aunt pulled out the chair across from Avery and slid into her seat. Not wanting to talk to her aunt about Dierdre or anything else of significance, Avery concentrated on her plate, avoiding her aunt’s curious eyes.

  “Based on your silence, I’m guessing that your conversation with your mother didn’t go well?”

  “Oh, I don’t know if I’d say that.”

  “Okay, then what would you say?”

  “It was identical to every other conversation I’ve had with her. Dierdre makes a bunch of vague, cryptic comments and then she refuses to explain anything, leaving me wondering why I bothered talking to her in the first place.”

  “That’s to be expected. She’s so weak, and the medicine scrambles her thoughts. I don’t know if she could tell you anything of significance even if she wanted to.”

  Avery snorted in amusement. “She did ramble for a few minutes about my father being part of ‘the old race’. Oh, and guess what? I have superpowers. How does it feel to be related to a super hero?”

  Catherine looked away for a moment, ignoring Avery’s sarcastic question. “Did she tell you anything else?”

  Avery twirled a piece of meat on the end of her fork. “She did say that she faked my death, so my father couldn’t find me. Would that qualify as significant in your opinion or is that piece of information just the work of a confused mind?”

  Her aunt looked uncomfortable and refused to meet Avery eyes. Instead, she focused on her food again as if Avery hadn’t asked her a question.

  Avery broke the stifling silence. “From your silence, I take it that you know what she was talking about, and she isn’t so confused from the medication that she can’t recall that detail.”

  Her aunt shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Yes. That’s the truth, but the truth is never simple, is it?”

  “Maybe not, but there’s no reason to hide the truth anymore.”

  “I’m sure your mother has her reasons for not sharing her thoughts on everything. What else did she tell you?”

  “She didn’t say much more. She claimed she was too tired to talk, but since you seem to know the story, why don’t you let me in on the secret? It seems fair that I know everything about it, considering it concerns me more than anyone else.”

  “I don’t have much to add. She was afraid of your father, and some people helped her stage the whole event to make it believable. Did she tell you all of that?”

  “Yes, she did. Do you know why she was afraid of my father? Was she in danger?”

  “I really cannot answer that. It’s not something I can speak to with any certainty. I think you should wait until your mother can tell you the details, so there aren’t any further misunderstandings or hurt feelings.”

  “I’ve been waiting for my mother to tell me something of significance for fifteen years. I’m not going to sit around waiting for her to enlighten me now.” Avery abruptly stood from her chair. The constant roadblocks and vague promises of explanations to come were more than she could take. “I don’t know why I came to Ireland. If I thought clearly about this whole thing when you called a couple weeks ago, I would have realized that nothing was going to come of this. It never has and it never will.”

  “What are you saying? Are you giving up on your mother? You won’t have any other chances to make peace with her. This is it, you know.”

  “I’m done deluding myself. Peace is not going to happen by sitting here trying to pry information from her, and to be honest I’m done trying. She can’t give me closure. I’m the only person who can do that. I know that now. Thank you for your hospitality but I need to leave.”

  “Do you plan to stop by tomorrow?”

  “No. I’m done here. Please give my regards to Dierdre. I’m going to get on the first open flight to New York.”

  “Wait. Don’t go. At least spend the night here. You can’t make any plans this late at night, and I hate the thought of you staying alone in that hotel room when you have family here.”

  If she were being honest with herself, Avery didn’t feel like going back to the hotel tonight either. She was tired from her flight and the time change, and she didn’t like the idea of staying in the hotel alone. Still, she hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t have any of my things or a change of clothing.”

  “You can borrow your mother’s pajamas and clothes. You’re about her size before she got sick. Take anything you need to make yourself comfortable.”

  “I don’t want to make more work for you. It must be hard to take care of Dierdre every day.”

  “I like having company. I already made up the spare bed in the loft today just in case it got late and you needed to stay the night. Besides, I know your mother had some things she wanted to give you before you left.”

  Avery sighed. “Okay.”

  “Great. I think you’d regret running out of here without thinking things through. You really need to open your heart and be more compassionate toward your mother.” Her aunt stopped talking for a minute as if she didn’t know what to say and then continued in a soft, friendly voice. “I’ll get some clothes and toiletries together and bring them up to you.”

  Avery opened her mouth to give her Aunt a sharp response to her defense of Dierdre, but she yawned instead and mumbled, “Thanks.” She didn’t have the energy to fight with her aunt right now.

  Avery lost herself in a dream. She was a child again, barely even two years old, with silvery blond hair, running through a field covered with vivid green grass and vibrant purple heather dancing and fluttering in the breeze. Warm sunlight washed over her in languorous waves. Her mother was sitting on a plaid blanket nearby when she let out a light, tinkling laugh, and told her not to go too far. Avery ignored her and kept running, happy to play in the field and smell every flower. When she turned around, fog had settled in, and she couldn’t see her mother anymore.

  Blindly, she half ran, half staggered through the field crying for help, but the fog just seemed to get thicker with each step, pushing her backward. Seeing the size of her feet, she realized she was no longer a child but an adult. Panicked that so much time had passed, and she still didn’t know where she was, she fell to her knees crying. Suddenly, a warm hand brushed the side of her face, and a jolt of electricity sang through her body making her feel safe, protected, and alive. A man leaned down and whispered in her ear, so close that she could feel his warm breath against her cheek, “Don’t worry, my love. I’ve never been far.”

  Avery sat up in the bed, tears staining her cheeks. Calmly telling herself that it was only a dream, Avery rolled over and pressed a pillow over her head to block sunlight streaming through the windows. She had tossed and turned all night, watching the alarm clock turn every hour.

  Pushing the tangled hair from her face, she stumbled out of the bed, grabbing the clothes her aunt left out for her. When she was done dressing, she studied herself in the mirror. Dierdre’s jeans hung limply from her hips and barely covered her ankles. Her button up shirt hung in a shapeless mess from her shoulders. Turing to the side, she sighed and grabbed the bottom front ends of the shirt and tied them into a
knot.

  Studying her reflection, she noticed that she could see a hint of her bare stomach when she turned or raised her hands slightly, but it was better than nothing. Satisfied with her appearance, she sat on the top stair both dreading and weirdly anticipating another day with Dierdre. She could hear her aunt moving around downstairs, and the smell of fresh coffee beckoned her. She normally didn’t need coffee to function, but after the last couple days, she could see how it could become essential in a person’s life.

  Tiptoeing down the stairs, she made her way into the kitchen where she found coffee and a warm scone waiting for her on the kitchen table. Sliding into a chair, she slumped, rubbing her tired head with the tips of her fingers. She picked at the scone until it crumbled into little pieces before deciding she was too tired to make the effort to eat.

  “Good morning, Avery,” her aunt announced cheerily as she walked into the room. “How did you sleep?”

  “Not so great.”

  “Was the bed uncomfortable? Nobody has slept in the loft for years, so I don’t know if it sags.”

  “No, it was fine. I don’t think I’ve adjusted to the time change yet, and I was really restless.” Avery shrugged her shoulders. “After eight hours of trying, I might have squeezed in a total of three hours of sleep.”

  “Have you thought about your plans to go back to New York yet?”

  “Not really.”

  “Before you leave this morning, I thought we could go through some boxes in the attic and see if there is anything you want to take. Dierdre mentioned she wanted to give you some of her personal effects, you know, letters and albums. I thought we could do that this morning just in case you end of up flying back to New York tomorrow.”

  “Sure. I’m done with breakfast if you’re ready.”

  “The attic access is right outside your mother’s room.”

  Catherine led her to the hallway outside Dierdre’s room. She reached up and pulled on a handle attached to the attic door. A small ladder slid down into the hall. Avery followed her aunt up the ladder. Inside the attic, Avery was assaulted with the smell of dust and mothballs. She stood carefully in the darkness so she wouldn’t stumble over some boxes or other items carelessly piled in the attic.

  “Please pull the ladder back up,” said Catherine. “I don’t want your mother to stumble on it if she needs to get out of bed for any reason. She normally doesn’t leave her room without help, but you never know. She hasn’t had breakfast yet.”

  Lying on her stomach, Avery reached down and pulled the ladder back into the attic, but she left the attic access door open. Her aunt pulled the string on a keyless light, and a dim yellow glow seeped into the darkness of the stuffy attic. The walls and floors were paneled with dark wood. Haphazardly arranged boxes lined the walls. When her eyes finally adjusted to the dim lighting, Avery saw a few boxes stacked in the corner labeled ‘Dierdre’.

  “It looks like her things are in that corner,” Avery said.

  “You’re right. We’ll push the boxes to the middle where we have more light to see what’s inside,” her aunt said.

  Pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, she watched her aunt shove boxes into the center of the room. She felt oddly vulnerable and hopeless. Trying to ignore the unsettled feelings, she took a step forward and flippantly answered her aunt. “That sounds like a plan.”

  If Grace could see her now with her feet practically glued to the floor, staring at the boxes as if they contained piles of slithering snakes, she would be shocked. Throughout her life, she’d been driven to do whatever was necessary to get the job, apartment, or project she wanted. She argued with scholars in lectures halls, in front of hundreds of students and colleagues, and she gave the impression that nothing bothered her. All those superficial things were a hell of a lot easier to deal with than coming face to face with the answers she wanted for most of her life.

  “Get over it,” she muttered under her breath as she reached for one of the boxes. Being a coward unsettled her, so she ignored her uncertainty. Nothing was going to happen because she looked at a few of her mother’s photo albums and some old junk. She controlled what she did with the information. She would still be the same person regardless of what she found.

  Avery’s aunt interrupted her musings. “Do you want me to help you go through the boxes or would you like some privacy?”

  “It will be quicker if you help. I’d like to pull out what I want to keep and re-box it to ship it to my apartment in New York. You can keep the rest of the stuff or throw it away.”

  “Then let’s get started so you can get back to your life as quickly as possible. I wouldn’t want you to be inconvenienced for too long.”

  Avery rolled her eyes, ignoring her aunt’s jab. Regardless of everything Dierdre did, her aunt defended her to the bitter end, never missing an opportunity to make Avery feel guilty about their troubled relationship. For some reason, her aunt felt as though Avery were to blame for their dysfunctional relationship. How her aunt could rationalize blaming a ten-year-old for her mother’s abandonment went beyond her comprehension. Perhaps, her aunt thought it was Avery’s fault because she had the audacity to be born at all. It would almost make her laugh if it weren’t her life.

  Avery trailed the fingers of her left hand along the wall of the dimly lit attic and pushed a box labeled ‘Dierdre’ to the center of the room. Her blood racing with anticipation, she couldn’t help hoping that somewhere inside these boxes lay the secrets of her life or at the very least the key to her mother’s paranoia relating to her father.

  Avery lifted the lid off the first box and tipped it sideways, letting a few photo albums spill onto the floor. Bold red marker labeled the cover of each album with a date range. Quickly sorting through them, she opened one covering the time when she was born. The pages were yellowed, crisp to the touch. Dierdre meticulously dated each picture and included a small caption explaining it. Avery traced her mother’s flowing handwriting with her finger. When she closed the album, an envelope addressed to Dierdre floated to the floor. She opened it and scanned the first few sentences.

  Dierdre,

  I am sincerely sorry if I caused you any pain. That was never my intention. I know you told me not to contact you anymore, that you were tired of hearing lies, but I really think we owe it to our daughter to talk. I won’t let you shut me out of her life. I love her, and I will always be her father whether you like it or not. I’m not going away just because you’re convinced I betrayed you even though you refuse to give me the chance to explain.

  Avery was still reading the letter when she heard them. Voices clashed in argument, loud in the initial minutes of confrontation, and then the voices lowered to emphatic whispers. They came from Dierdre’s room. Avery’s hand trembled, and she dropped the letter. There could be no mistake. Dierdre was engaged in a private battle with some unidentified man. Her eyes sought out her aunt’s. As if by some unspoken agreement, both Avery and her aunt froze in silence.

  Avery mouthed, “Who’s in the house?”

  Her aunt shook her head and put a finger to her mouth. Avery flattened herself against the attic wall and crept slowly toward the opening to see who was arguing with her mother. The bright light in Dierdre’s room momentarily blinded her. She squinted, trying to bring the scene into focus. She could see the lower half of the man’s body, but something about his voice sounded eerily familiar. Still in bed, Dierdre’s hand clenched the man’s wrist and her face contorted in anger. Apparently they knew each, and whatever their conflict, it was more than a small miscommunication.

  Dierdre shook her head furiously. “No, Avery and Catherine aren’t here. They took the train to do some sightseeing,” she pleaded. “I’m alone. They don’t need to be here.”

  “You lied to us,” the man said, running his fingers through his hair. “She’s resisting. The timing is crucial. We will lose everything if she sides with them.”

  “Avery’s not a child anymore. I can’t c
ontrol her. You made sure I wasn’t part of her life, and nothing’s changed so you’re on your own.”

  “You’re wrong. Everything has changed.”

  “When you proposed hiding Avery, I agreed because I needed to get away from Cian. I trusted you and I believed you had Avery’s best interests in mind. Now, I’m not so sure I was right. I was confused and upset, and I think you took advantage of me. Avery is an adult with her own dreams. In case you haven’t noticed, I have absolutely no influence over my daughter. I’m completely out of the picture. I believe that was what you wanted.”

  The man swore under his breath. “Be creative. Ask a favor of her as her poor, dying mother.”

  Dierdre paused in silence and gave the man a long, assessing look. The rawness of her throat seeped into her voice, and Avery thought it sounded as though Dierdre were begging him. “Do you seriously think I could ask a favor of the daughter who thinks I abandoned her?”

  “Why not? Your daughter probably feels guilty about your relationship. Don’t you think she will make some allowances for human frailty?” The man’s voice was laced with impatience.

  “The way I see it, this is your problem—not mine. I played my part, and I’ve paid dearly for it. I’m dying, and my daughter can’t stand to be in the same room as me. You may have helped me during an uncertain time but in the end, trusting you was probably worse than the alternative. I’m going to tell Avery the truth. There’s nothing left to discuss. Get out now!”

  Avery’s heart squeezed, panicking in reaction to Dierdre’s declaration. Maybe Dierdre would finally tell her what she wanted to know. Momentarily lost in the swirling of her mind, she stopped listening to her mother’s conversation. She could only ponder what knowing the truth would mean for her future. Tears blurred her vision and she resisted the urge to run away and hide. Knowing the truth meant she could no longer pretend to be someone she wasn’t, and she wasn’t entirely certain that was a good thing.