Chapter Sixty-Four
Veronica’s Point of View:
“What kind of dream was that?” I had woken up to a very bad nightmare, and it had kept me up till the morning. Something did not feel right, and I could not place what it was.
I was not the type to go to bed early, but I am nearly a bird. I decided to use the time to do some house chores and cleaning before it was morning.
I have lived a very simple life from the onset, never wanted anything too complicated or toxic, just private. But when I think of it, I seem to have failed at everything I laid my hands on even though the store was merely pulling through.
It was hard to get by at first, but I have gotten used to it. It no longer bore me out like it usually did. Being with Thomas made it even more worth doing. I could not have come this far without him. He has proved to be very helpful.
But I have found myself being scared lately like something was about to go wrong because we had been in good times for so long.
I finished my chores and general cleaning of the house and decided to wake Thomas up. That boy loved to sleep. I have not failed to tell him numbers and how sleep would be his downfall if he did not work on it. He never took it seriously. I saw it as a weakness, a very bad one, especially if your enemy finds out.
“Tom, breakfast is ready” I shouted through the door when I got tired of knocking.
I would have opened the door had he not told me on several occasions how he loved privacy and needed to be in his own space sometimes. I decided to wait for him in the dining room.
I waited for 30 more minutes and decided I had had enough of her tantrum.
“Tom, get down here this minute” I shouted, expecting her to come running down.
“Was he sick or something?” I wondered.
When he did not show up, I decided I was going to break that privacy right just once this time. I opened the door, and the room was empty, with the bed looking as if no one had laid on it. I rushed out and checked every other room and there was no sign of him.
“He must be at the store.”
It was more of a prayer than I thought when I said that. I rushed out of the store only to find it locked.
I looked around, from corner to corner. I went as far as knocking on each of our neighbor’s doors to ask if he might be there, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Is she missing? I have to go to the police.”
Fiona’s Point of View:
So, the smart-ass says, “Mum, did you dream funny dreams the night of the 14th? I mean dreams of rainbows. Because you gave birth to one.”
Then she turns to me, screwing up her lips for emphasis, “I don’t mean rainbows like some kind of good premonition or after the storm symbol; I mean rainbow like unicorn poop!” Amber finishes recounting, shaking her head in dismay.
I chuckle at her expense, my first worry-free expression since all this trouble started.
My smile lasts while we both step out of the car and grab our bags. I press the key fob and the door locks with a loud chime.
One of the plus sides of Alex’s constant traveling is that I get to borrow his car whenever I want, for as long as I want, without a full speech on the promise of responsibility or a full interview/ interrogation session on my plans.
Eleanor is grumbling now about whether that silly girl even knows what unicorn poop looks like.
After considering our options, we decided on Frivolous for its fair prices and pretty clothes.
We were ladies after all, and it’s an unstated rule that using Alex’s card was with restriction. We’re here to get clothes and other stuff to wear to Eleanor’s 26th.
That, along with my very emotional state, must have been the reason I agreed to subject myself to the torture that was shopping with Eleanor.
For someone who puts a lot of effort into looking carelessly dressed, Amber likes fashion items too much.
A natural hard worker, almost all the money from her part-time jobs goes into getting clothes and shoes.
Her eyes brightened up as we walked out of the parking lot and stood in front of the pretty shoebox building with a big sign in shades of soft pink and gold.
On my part, we’ve not gone in yet, but I want to go already and pop back right on the couch where we left James.
That sneaky shit had gotten out of the shopping trip by claiming he needed his me-time, while we both needed to get some girl time.
He was probably having the time of his life, cooking something in our kitchen.
He and Veronica shared a love of cooking stuff, and he likes to call Veronica’s kitchen his dream kitchen. Me, give me takeout or mac ‘n’ cheese or cereal, and I’m fine. I just need to fill my tummy.
His excuse would probably not have stood, had Eleanor too not been keen on getting me alone.
I know she still hopes to get the whole truth out of me. I heard her whispering to James that what was wrong with me might be a girl thing, so I was prepared for new tactics today.
Both of them were undeterred when they wanted something. My only consolation for this shop is the hope that James will have something tasty waiting at home.
Eleanor started to walk towards the building, holding on to my t-shirt as if she could hear my thoughts of escaping. As if in recollection, she exclaims and starts to talk, probably another anecdote about her baby sister, Bloom.
That girl is super-smart for her age and the queen of wittiness. Her savage abilities never cease to amuse, especially since she has such a cute face on a small stature.
I’m only spared sometimes because she idolizes me, and this gives me a major ego trip. She’s always trying to show me evidence of her excellence in Math and Economics whenever I go to their place, to James’ envy and Eleanor’s disbelief.
Apart from the nerd culture, I and Bloom also share a love of Aeronautics, which is my proposed major for when I go to college.
My world globe, which I got at a flea market when I was twelve, is a constant reminder of this dream and I even have my best countries marked out on it with a felt pen.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I said to Eleanor. I had missed her last statement.
She replies, but what I hear is “Hi, princess” in a slightly warbling tone.
I don’t want to ask her to repeat it because she would accuse me of not paying attention to what she’s saying, but she catches the frown of confusion on my face before I can smooth it away.
She sighs, a little worry mixed in, and repeats the third time. This time, I hear her clearly and nod.
We then walk into the store but not before I see the shadow that falls across the glass door after we step in; something like a big bird.