After Forever

After Forever

Book 5 of the Southern Exposure Saga

By Lari Smythe

Cover by Lari Smythe

Copyright 2020 Lari Smythe

ISBN 9781005623913 (.ebpub version)

Published by Lari Smythe at Smashwords

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* * *

The universe is not going to see someone like you again in the entire history of creation.

-Vartan Gregorian

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Author Info and other books

Prologue

Six months had passed since I said goodbye to Mom and, for appearance sake, laid Dad to rest. A lot had happened since that day, but not the one thing I was hoping for the most, to see them again. Sure, Mom explained that immortality came with an unspecified amount of time to adapt so it could take months, maybe even years, before Dad was able to see me again. I had counted on knowing Dad better than she did, but the days turned to weeks, then months without any word. I still wasn't sure how I felt about that day, whether Mom was the angelic immortal Grammy pictured, or something else entirely. In the end, though, it didn't matter, at least to me, because deep down I knew, beyond any doubt, that they were together, forever.

From the time Dad learned his cancer would be fatal, the plan had been for me to join my godparents, Cathy and Alex Struther, in South Carolina, but somehow Aunt Cathy had arranged to telework, so I could finish my freshman year at Boonsboro High School. The choice came with mixed emotions since it meant I would have to deal with prying stares and snide comments from my classmates, who like most everyone else in town, thought that I had killed dad as surely as my birth had killed Mom. The positive was that I wouldn't have to pick up midyear in a new school. I felt like that would give me the best chance of getting to play football—my dream and Dad's. At least that's how I justified putting myself through another six months in Boonsboro. That was then, today was the beginning of a new chapter—a new life.

Chapter 1

My eyes welled up with tears as I sat at the art table in the back of the class and watched the last seconds on the clock tick passed—the last seconds of my life in Boonsboro. The final bell punctuated the precise second the school year was mercifully over. I didn't jump up like the rest of the class, instead I let my head drift down to rest against my crossed arms on the table in front of me.

See ya loser! Tommy Curley yelled as he passed the art room door.

I jumped up and grit my teeth. God, I wish I could punch him out just one more time. He was a total ass. Instead, I eased back onto my stool as the chaos in the hallway faded toward the front of the school.

Elina, are you alright?

I wiped away an unexpected tear, an angry tear, and looked up into Mrs. Snyder's concerned face. Sure, why wouldn't I be?

Mrs. Snyder sat down on the stool next to me. I know it's been a difficult year, she began. Like everyone else, I'm really going to miss you. The school won't be the same.

I looked at her indifferently. You mean the 'everyone else' who blame me for my parents' deaths. It was more rhetorical than a question, so I got up to leave, not expecting an answer.

Please Elina, she gently grasped my arm, people don't blame you, it's just—

You're wrong. Mom died delivering me, and let's face it, everyone in town is convinced my taking Dad to the old house hastened his death—like I planned it that way all along.

I don't think that. Why would you think anyone blames you?

Come on, I huffed, my tone disbelieving, Dad kicked me off the football team, remember? Moving him to the old house was just my sadistic payback, right?

We exchanged an awkward glance. I'm sure she was thinking the same thing that Dad had told me, it was my fault for knocking Tommy Curley out during practice, even though he deserved it. That fiasco also kept Dad from coaching me, a consequence that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

She patted my arm. I don't blame you and I really don't think your classmates do either.

You're just saying that. I leaned back against the table and crossed my arms, but the anger crept back in. I suppose you have to, though, since Dad saved your life.

Her face turned ashen.

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. What a stupid thing to say. You've always been supportive, even when it seemed like the whole world was against me. I'm really sorry. Tears, I refused to shed, blurred my vision.

She patted my arm again and stood. I hope a new start brings you the kind of peace you're hoping for.

I glanced at the door to be sure we were alone and then gave her a gentle hug. Me too.

I know you're strong, determined and a fighter, but I sincerely hope you can find the beautiful young woman that I know lies within you. She smiled warmly.

I'm not so sure about the beautiful—

Oh, she's in there, I'm sure of it. She shows herself in your artwork. Something you have in common with both your parents. I followed her over to her desk where she pulled out a three-by-five card and handed it to me. It's my email address. I'd love to keep in touch. Her eyes sparkled for a moment as if she suddenly remembered something. Do you have a minute? I have something in the back I'd like to give you.

Sure. Honestly, all I wanted was to get out of there, but her enthusiasm was intriguing.

Mrs. Snyder dashed into the art supply room. A few minutes later she emerged with a manila envelope. There are two drawings inside, your mom and dad each did one of them. When you feel like it, I thought you might like to see their work. She handed me the envelope. I don't know why I didn't think of them sooner.

Thanks. I'll miss you, I really will. I forced a smile. You'll stick up for me, not let the rumors get even worse?

Count on it. She returned the smile.

We hugged and I left her standing next to her desk. The halls were quiet now, the chaos of the hallway now the sounds of cars and busses leaving the school. I scanned the parking lot and spotted Dad's Rover parked along the sidewalk at the corner. Cathy waved.

Hey, I said as I opened the passenger's door. Everything go as planned?

Yep, movers left half an hour ago. How was school?

I rolled my eyes as I slid onto the seat.

That bad, she surmised. What's in the envelope?

Mrs. Snyder gave it to me. She said they were drawings Mom and Dad did.

Cathy's face lit up. You'll love them. She winked. We should get going if we're going to beat rush hour.

About that, do we have time for one stop?

She looked puzzled for a moment. Ah, of course. She started the car. Absolutely.

We eased into the line of traffic leaving the school. I knew I didn't have to explain, Cathy's sixth sense, as Dad had referred to it, was amazing, but sometimes also a little exposing.

This old car has made a lot of trips in and out of this parking lot over the years. Cathy patted the dash. Hard to believe this is the last—

But necessary.

She nodded. Yes, yes, it is. I hope it can make it to South Carolina, she added jokingly.

It will, Dad wouldn't leave us stranded like that.

It wasn't long before we turned up the one-lane strip of new asphalt that led to the cemetery. The crumpled road had been repaved in early Spring.

Cathy glanced over as we pulled to a stop. You know they're not here, right?

I nodded. I just want to make sure the final details were finished like I promised. I got out and jogged down to the old oak at the far end of the cemetery. Even though I knew Cathy was right, seeing Mom and Dad's mausoleum still gave me an eerie feeling. I peered through the ornate bars at the two marble vaults. To the left, Dad's name and dates, but most importantly, under that the single word, TOGETHER. To the right, Mom's and under her name and dates, the word, FOREVER.

Together forever, I whispered. I stepped back and surveyed the fringe of the surrounding woods, but like all the other times, it was quiet. An uneasy sense of finality crept over me. As I turned to leave, a reflection caught my eye. I swear I hadn't noticed it when I arrived, but now, the polished brass key jumped out at me.

The gate was still locked and I instinctively started to turn the key, but something stopped me. I can't explain it, but somehow, I knew the key wasn't meant for now. I retrieved it from the lock and slipped it in the back pocket of my jeans.

I stepped back again, peering into the darkness and the two dimly lit vaults. I miss you. It's already been too long. I turned and started back toward the Rover before the tears came. The Rover's boxy silhouette reminded me of the afternoon I rode my bike out to meet Dad on my last birthday—when I thought Mom was dead—I hid behind the car before I chickened out and rode home. Could she have been here, waiting for him? With what I knew now, it was a possibility. I would have to ask her when I saw them again.

After latching my seatbelt, I glanced over at Cathy. Our gaze met momentarily and, although I could tell she knew something happened, I don't think she knew about the key.

Are they like you wanted?

They're perfect. There was a manila envelope on the dash that hadn't been there before. Is that for me?

Cathy hesitated before replying. Yes, it's from your parents.

Cool. I grabbed the bulky envelope and unhooked the clasp.

Elina, I'm not sure—

I suddenly realized Cathy looked scared. What is it? What's wrong?

She turned, slightly toward me. It took a moment before she answered. I want you to know two things before you open the envelope. One, Alex and I are thrilled—if you are, and two, neither of us knew anything about this until that showed up on the porch two weeks ago.

Two weeks? How come you're just now—

The letter your mother wrote to me is in the envelope. It should help you understand. No secrets. She paused and tried to discretely wipe her eyes. I hope this is something you can accept, it's what your parents want, but if you're not comfortable with the arrangement—well, we can work something out.

I don't like the sound of this. I dumped the contents out on my lap with the fear my parents' promise to stay in my life was a lie. There was a birth certificate, Social Security card, medical records, some other official-looking documents, and a small white envelop addressed to Cathy and Alex. What's going on?

It's all in the letter.

Please just tell me.

Alright then. She cleared her throat. Your mom and dad want Elina Isabella Whitaker to cease to exist as of this moment.

Cease to exist? I shook my head in disbelief. Is that even possible?

Yes. The papers and documents in your lap accomplish that and— She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. They establish the existence of Elina Isabella Struther.

As in you and Alex—you're adopting me?

She motioned toward the papers. Technically, your parents have already done that. Her gaze drifted down. Is that going to be a problem?

It's a lot to take in, you know, but I trust them and I trust you. Elina Isabella Struther, a new name for a new me. It's not a total surprise I guess—they thought of everything to protect me. Are you sure you and Alex are okay with this?

Yes! Absolutely. Cathy sank back against the seat.

Mom and Dad are okay, right?

Yes, I'm sure of it.

I picked up one of the folders and opened it. It was school records, from Tucson. I'm from Arizona?

Yes. She smiled, her face filled with relief and happiness. It's time for a new beginning. She started the engine and we were on our way to Greer, South Carolina.

* * *

It had been two weeks since I moved in with Aunt Cathy and Uncle Alex when a moving van with the words Two Men and a Truck painted on the side screeched to a stop out front. That meant my stuff was finally here. It didn't take the two guys long to unload the few pieces of furniture and the handful of boxes I'd packed. They were almost too polite while they carted everything upstairs to my new attic bedroom. The room was a total surprise. While Cathy spent the last half of the school year with me in Boonsboro, Alex decided to build me an appropriate bedroom for a teenager instead of the tiny room where I'd stayed on my summer visits, which by the way, happen to be right next to their room. My new room was perfect, it even had its own bathroom. Alex seemed to know I wasn't a soaker tub kind of girl and instead put in a really cool shower that had multiple jets and shower-heads. It had already proven to be my little oasis after a hard workout. He'd even gone as far as to paint the room in the colors of the local high school, red walls, black trim, and a white ceiling. There was even a black tiger paw on the wall next to the door.

Once the moving guys left, I set about settling in. On the wall opposite my bed, was the dresser, kind of a mixture of pieces. I never liked the long, and more importantly, low girly ones, so I had Grandpa's old dresser. It wasn't your typical men's dresser, a little wider than normal and not quite as tall. Dad had added two vertical supports on the back to hold Grammy's mirror. The moving guys were nice enough to put it together for me. Finally, I wasn't living out of a suitcase, I thought as I stuffed the contents of another box into one of the drawers. I collapsed the box and added it to the pile of cardboard on my bed.

I opened the last box carefully and peeled away the layers of bubble-wrap until I came to the tri-fold picture frame I'd wrapped in one of those white Styrofoam sheets. I gently cut the sheet open with scissors and pulled out the picture. I sighed with relief, the glass hadn't broken during the move. I placed it on top of the dresser and folded the frame open. In the middle, a photo of Mom and Dad on their wedding day; on the left, one of Dad and on the right, Mom. I tapped two tiny nails into the wall and hung the artwork Mom and Dad had done of each other on either side of the mirror. I stepped back to admire my work—perfect. I found myself staring at their pictures and realized how long it had been since I last saw them. Now, however, I needed to get this place cleaned up. I grabbed the pile of broken-down boxes and headed for the recycle area in the garage.

It was still an hour before Alex and Cathy were due home, so when the automatic garage door activated it startled me.

I didn't bother to turn the garage lights on, so when the automatic door activated, the light startled me. Alex and Cathy shouldn't be home from work for another hour or so. I reached over and grabbed a hammer off the workbench as the door panels began to slowly peel upward across the ceiling. There was definitely a man standing in the driveway, but as the door reached waist high, I recognized Alex's pants from breakfast, so I discreetly slipped the hammer back on the workbench.

Hey, Alex said, didn't expect to see you—figured you'd be out running.

The movers were here earlier. I was unpacking.

Alex smiled wryly. You sure they left? He stepped to the side. There was a truck behind him, a much larger truck with the name Interstate Transport on the side.

Just then, Cathy pulled up and parked on the side of the street instead of in the driveway. When she spotted us, she hopped out and ran up the driveway. Did I miss it?

Alex glanced over his shoulder. Nope, they just pulled up. With that, he started toward the man who was climbing down from the cab of the truck.

I'm so glad I got here in time, Cathy said.

What's going on?

Behind Cathy, Alex and the driver were headed toward the back of the truck.

It's a surprise, from your mom and dad. Your dad had—

You saw them? You talked to them?

Oh, no, nothing like that. Her exuberant smile faded.

Sorry, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I shrugged.

An awkward silence lingered, one we had avoided up until this point. Behind Cathy, the driver lowered the back of the truck.

You shouldn't be sorry, Cathy said. I know it seems like an eternity since you've seen or heard from them, but you haven't lost faith, have you? She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Alex wasn't within earshot.

My gaze followed hers. Alex and the driver were inside the back of the truck now. No, I haven't given up—it's just been so long. I thought—sure, I know Mom said, but it's already been longer than I expected. I shook my head.

Cathy turned as a car engine started inside the back of the truck. Not just any car, but the sound of a powerful engine. Maybe this will help a little.

As Cathy and I watched, the rear quarter panel of an older car emerged from the truck. It was black, but in the sunlight, had a shimmer of midnight blue. The wide chrome wheels confirmed this wasn't just any car. It was then I noticed the chrome script on the quarter panel that read, Malibu.

Did Alex get a muscle car? I asked, glancing back in the garage and remembering the tarp-covered project car he had been working on all those summers I visited. I hadn't realized the spot was now for recycling.

No.

No? I puzzled.

The driver gunned the engine a few times and then pulled around the truck and onto the driveway. He gunned it one more time before shutting it down and then opened the door and climbed out. Alex came running up alongside the car all smiles.

Okay, what's going on? I asked.

Alex looked toward Cathy.

Go on, Cathy said. you've been dying to tell her about it.

Tell me about what?

Alex took a deep breath through a boyish smile. It's a 1966 Chevy Malibu, 327 cubic inch V-8 with four on the floor, dual exhaust and posi-traction rear. It's had some engine mods, at least a CAM.

I stared at him blankly.

It's yours! he exclaimed.

Mine? I don't understand.

It was your mother's, Cathy said. Jason had it restored to the condition it was in when they first met.

You're kidding, right? I looked from Cathy to Alex, even the truck driver, they were all smiling.

Can you drive a stick? Alex asked.

Sure, Dad taught me on the Rover. The Rover's faded, rusty patina was a sharp contrast to Mom's newly restored Malibu.

The truck driver chuckled. This ain't no Rover sweetheart—I'd guess in the neighborhood of 300 maybe 350 horsepower, give or take.

At least, Alex confirmed. Maybe even 400.

The driver nodded. Listen, hate to break up the party, but I've got to hit the road—another delivery in Anderson before dark.

Sure, Alex acknowledged, no problem. The two walked back to the truck where Alex signed some papers and helped the guy close up the back.

How? I asked Cathy. I mean where?

Well, when your dad's health took a turn, he had the car shipped off to a shop in Norfolk, Virginia for a complete frame off restoration. Up until then, it sat in the old garage behind the house on Lambs Knoll. They wanted it to be kind of a farewell, remembrance present.

Farewell? I tensed.

Cathy glanced over her shoulder toward the truck again. No, not like that. I think they knew it might take your dad awhile—you know, to adapt. Tink built it for your mom before she started school.

Tink?

Well, Tolliver, but they called him Tink. Her voice trailed off as if she realized that maybe she'd said too much.

I opened the door and slipped in behind the wheel. I can see Mom in it even though she was petite—

Pictures can be deceiving, Cathy interrupted.

It looks good on you, Alex said, walking up to us. He was close, too close—had he heard me? According to Cathy, he didn't know anything about the immortality thing.

Right, I covered, of course, but Dad said Mom was on the small side.

But as fierce as a lion, Alex added.

It seemed like an odd way to describe Mom, the angel, but as I thought about it, I