Growing Up and Other Tall Tales

Chapter 67

Loki perks up at Aiden's tone of discomfort and scuttles around the table to go settle down at his feet. He looks down at him and sighs.

"Of course, they had stopped looking for me a long time ago. Nobody came. I bounced between places for two years. Mother tracked me down and took me back home. I started school that same year. I was six or seven."

I clench my legs together and look down at my food, feeling appetite flood out of me in a strong gush as if someone punched me in the gut.

"I'm sorry we can't retaliate. It will only hurt you more than it will hurt them."

"That's not what I mean," I tell him carefully after a while

"Then what do you mean, Lyra?" he asks placidly

"Why are you not asking me what she said about you? What she looks like?"

"Because I know just how much you hate talking about that night," he almost spits out, "You barely remember that night yourself. You've had nightmares since you woke up on that hospital bed. You've not slept in weeks."

"It's your sister," I gesture wildly, "Aren't you even a little curious about where you came from? It's important—"

"You're important," he cuts in angrily and I stagger mid-sentence. He looks on at me unapologetically. "You told me not to lie."

We both go back to picking at our food for a few minutes.

"I don't want to fight with you," I say tentatively, "Not now. Not about this." I close my eyes and tried to repress a shudder as memories wash over me ruffling around my skin like a lover. He is right, I don't remember much of the last night. But I have to try. For him. "So please ask me."

He doesn't. Not for a long time.

But then—

"What does she look like?"

"Like you," I say and then chuckle. The ghosts of Aiden's face skating over hers. If I looked really hard into her eyes, I can almost pretend that it was him and be surprised by how festered her unhappiness was, "She is tall with long, straight blond hair, your eyes and your nose. Beautiful. I called her Snowflake."

Aiden chortles.

"She did not like that," I tell him and then I remember something I couldn't believe I didn't mention and it was like the doctors had said: trauma made you not aware of certain obvious things from your memories

"What?" Aiden asks at the change of my expression

"She was pregnant, Aiden." I say quietly, "The baby. He was hers."

"Yeah, I figured," he sounds weary now, "That was my nephew."

Oh my God, did I kill his nephew? I feel sick. Bile lurches up like a recoil inside me.

"Don't you dare," I hear him

I look at him, one minute, two. Then went on. "She didn't want the child. It was so weird. She was so disassociated from the whole experience. I asked her who the baby's father was and she didn't know what I was talking about even with her belly swelling up to her chin."

I didn't want to talk about the things she had called Aiden; and how much she hated him. Aiden would've taken it in his stride if I had told him but I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have wanted to watch him having to swallow what he presumed is true of his birth family: he isn't wanted.

Aiden looks away ponderously and the finally sighs, "She's a murderous bitch who is probably a clinical psychopath. I don't care about her. I care that you are okay."

I narrow my eyes at him and he looks at me steadfast and stanch. There is something heart-wrenching about how emphatically blunt he can be.

"Thank you for coming when you did," I say quietly looking down at my food.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." He says and then more lightly trying to diffuse the tension. "You clearly had it under control. You didn't need me. Never did."

I remember the cold and hoping someone could warm me the way you did.

I needed you. I do need you. I have always needed you. Maybe even before I met you.

He nudges my feet breaking my thoughts and making me look back up to him and he smiles.

Thank you for making me talk.

I know he has more questions. But those questions aren't for me.

"I'm going to get some studying done," I say shoveling a forkful of food into my mouth and standing up

"Coffee?" he calls out as I balance the plate in one hand and tried to fend off Loki padding behind me for leftovers

"Cool," I yell back at him distractedly and then immediately giving up to Loki's insistent whimpering