Chapter 113 - I Choose He had just come home from work and texted Mom to meet him in the butterfly vault. She came down the elevator to hear soft, romantic music coming from the stereo, and find that which was most dreaded.
At first, she just couldn't believe it. Her own father had lived to be 110--surely her husband couldn't,
wouldn't leave her when he was just 93! But even as she tried to convince herself that it was just a trick, an illusion, she knew the truth all too well.
Jerry wasn't ready to go, either, even if he had been preparing for this moment ever since the Reaper came to him as he put his daughter in her crib. He thought he would be accepting of his fate, understanding.
But, no. He wanted to watch his daughter become a young woman, graduate, find love of her own--even if he would never see his grandchild. In the end, he fought so strongly that the Reaper struck him down with his scythe. And, away he went.
Mom, never one to hold a grudge against anyone, spoke with Grim as a friend, not enemy. "
I only have to wait two generations for him, you know. I can make it two generations without closing myself off in one of those cells. Tell me, is your line of work very stressful? There must be a lot of people trying to come after you for revenge, huh?"
Rest in Peace, Jerry (Hart) Elysi. You were a wonderful father and husband, a true Panda Bear at heart, and it was an honor to have you as a part of this dynasty. You made me happy that the family tree was broken, even if it did mean that very inappropriate things happened between immortals.
I was at the diner with Stephen when my phone rang. I listened in stunned silence as Mom gave me the bad news, almost alarmingly stoic, then said cheerfully, "
But don't worry--we'll see him again soon. It'll only be a little longer!"
"
I know you say it won't be long, but it feels like forever."
"
I know, little firework, I know. You shouldn't--Oh My Butterfly! I've solved it! The Light-Dark Watcher thingy, I've figured it out! We just have to--" There was an abrupt disconnect on her end of the line.
"
Hey, Nataliya!" He came out of the Diner, so smiling and happy that his joy felt like a punch in the face. Suddenly noticing my expression-- "
Is everything okay?"
"
Yeah, it's fine. Can you just give me a ride home?"
* * * Mikayla found herself in a small room underground, carpeted in orange. "
What?" she shouted. "
I figured it out! I know how to--"
"Exactly."
"
Grrrrrrr!"
* * *
We drove back in silence, he trying to figure out my sudden change in demeanor, me trying to come to terms with the fact that . . . no. I can't say it. He
can't be gone! He just can't.
We finally reached my house, and he walked me up to the front door, then I invited him inside for some hot cocoa. I made it three steps into the first room before bursting into tears. Stephen held me when I cried--and before you ask, no, he doesn't know about his future role, so this had no romantic meaning whatsoever--not to
him, anyway.
After a few minutes of crying, I asked Stephen if he could stay the night and keep me company, to which he agreed, then left to get the hot chocolate.
"
Oh, so you're the boy my daughter has her eye on, huh? Well, pretty boy, I AM WATCHING YOU!" She smiled menacingly, with an evil expression, then zapped away. After all, she reasoned to herself, with Jerry gone
someone had to terrify the boyfriend!
I found Stephen outside, apparently recovering from a traumatic experience of some kind. Upon seeing me, he immediately asked if there was any way that he could help, at which point I threw a rubber duck at him. "
What emotions surface with being hit with this rubber duck?"
Stephen went to sleep on the couch, which was quite a shame because he missed seeing me roaming the house in my sleepwear.
Have I shown you my room yet? I designed it myself, right after achieving my Supermax. I'm not going to have any wedding pictures, so instead I covered my room with posters of my favorite bands and singers.
I did corner him the next morning, but he had to leave for work right away--he's a stylist, you know, which would explain the kilt. Sadly, he did
not comment on the sleepwear, but I suppose that's a good thing . . . somehow.
The days are very quiet, with my parents gone. Mom decided to move into the Immortal cells permanently--at least, that's what she told me over the phone. I've taken up drums, just to fill the silence, but it's not nearly enough.
My dreams, waking and sleeping, are filled with one thing only, perhaps because that's my one real goal in life. I'm going to do what I can to become an Immortal, a career that was decided far before I was born and opportunities that will come with the career, but my child's father is the one thing I, and I only, can choose. And I choose Stephen Felder.
After all, he's smart and sweet and kind. He's handsome, if a little old for me--and what's wrong with an older man? He's far more grown-up and wise than anyone else outside of my family.
He even came over, in the middle of the night, to be there for my birthday at exactly 12:01 A.M.
Oh, here it comes: young adulthood! It will be what being a teenager was supposed to be, but so much better, because now there's drinks and Woohoo involved!
* * *
