Finding Eden by Mia Sheridan

  "Hmm," I hummed. "There's this painting in a gallery in Paris of a girl with a mysterious smile. I fancy it."

  His smile against my skin widened into a grin. "You fancy it?"

  "Mmm," I murmured.

  "I fancy you," he whispered. "I fancy you a whole lot."

  I laughed softly and he slipped out of me as I turned in his arms and snuggled into his chest.

  "I'd like to string some stars together and hang them right above this bed," I said.

  "I'll build a ladder," he said, pulling me closer. "I'll climb up and I'll lasso a few for you."

  I grinned, kissing the smooth skin of his chest.

  We both startled when the doorbell rang loudly through his mostly empty apartment.

  "Should we answer?" I whispered.

  "No," Calder groaned.

  "I thought we were getting up. Maybe this will be a good way to force us out of bed."

  Calder chuckled and then stopped when the pounding started.

  "What the hell?" he said, getting up and grabbing his jeans off of the floor and pulling them on.

  I sat up and pulled the sheet up against me as Calder left the room. Then I got up and went to use the bathroom and quickly brush my teeth.

  I pulled on my jeans and top and then pulled the sheet and comforter up on the bed when I heard male voices outside the bedroom and went out to see what was going on.

  When I walked out to the large living area, Calder was standing with his arms crossed against his bare chest and Xander was leaning against the counter, raking his hand through his hair looking like he'd been up all night.

  "Hey, Xander," I said, haltingly.

  He looked up at me with tired, red-rimmed eyes and gave me a small smile. "Hey, E."

  I walked up to Calder who put his arm around me and pulled me tightly to him. Xander smiled at us. "I knew you two would work it all out."

  I gazed up at Calder, but then looked back at Xander worriedly. He didn't look great.

  "What's wrong?" I asked, furrowing my brow.

  He shook his head, blowing out a breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't come here to interrupt this reunion. Shit. You guys don't need this. You deserve—"

  "Xander," Calder said. "Whatever I have—"

  "I have half. I know," he said quietly. Xander ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah."

  Calder nodded and looked down at me. "You know what Xander needs, right?"

  I bit my lip, making my expression very serious. "The Bed of Healing?"

  "I think so."

  I nodded. "I think so, too." Calder let go of me and I grabbed Xander's arm and pulled him along behind us to the bedroom.

  "Whoa! Where are you taking me?"

  "To The Bed of Healing," Calder said, standing next to it.

  "Come on." I pulled Xander and he stumbled and fell onto the bed. Calder and I got in, one on either side of him, and we lay there on top of the comforter staring up at the ceiling. I giggled.

  Xander looked to Calder and then to me and then back up at the ceiling. "I'm not having sex with either one of you," he said, starting to sit up. Calder pushed him back down by bringing his arm straight down on his chest. "Okay, maybe Eden, but definitely not you, Storm," he added.

  "Definitely not Eden," Calder gritted out. "Eden, scoot away from him a little." I laughed again.

  "I thought this was The Bed of Healing. Already I sense anger here," Xander said.

  Calder chuckled and threw a leg over Xander's leg. "No anger," he said. "Only healing. And quit it with the Storm business. You know I couldn't put my real name out there. It's a cool name." But there was amusement in his voice. Xander laughed.

  "It sounds like a stripper."

  I couldn't help giggling and Calder laughed, too.

  We all lay there silently for a minute. I smiled. It was a really comfortable bed. I took Xander's hand in mine and squeezed it.

  "The Bed of Healing smells like sex and . . . peaches," Xander said, wrinkling up his nose and glancing between the both of us.

  "The Bed of Healing smells just like a bed of healing should," Calder said.

  "Dude, when was the last time you showered?" Xander asked.

  "Four days ago," Calder answered, no embarrassment whatsoever in his voice.

  "Yeah, I can tell." Xander rolled closer to me and I laughed again.

  I turned my face to his. "Seriously, Xander, what's wrong?"

  He sighed and took his hand from mine, rubbing it on his dark five o'clock shadow for a second.

  "There's this girl," he said quietly, sounding practically tortured.

  Calder laughed. I sat up slightly, frowning over at him. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It's just that every story of woe and tragedy throughout history starts out with those exact same three words. ‘There's this girl’" then he groaned dramatically and threw his hand up over his eyes.

  Xander laughed softly and I frowned again, flopping back down on the pillow. "Not even true," I said.

  "Does she have you all twisted inside out?" Calder asked, taking his arm down.

  "Hell yes," Xander said.

  Calder sighed. "Yeah."

  "Wait," I said. "What's the problem here? You're in love, Xander. Does she not love you back or what?"

  Xander reached up and grabbed the hair at the front of his head. "That's the problem. I think she might."

  "Why is that a problem?" I asked, confused. "That's great."

  Torment washed over Xander's face. "I might have totally screwed it up. I'm not ready to love anyone."

  "Oh, Xander," I said, turning and moving closer to him, throwing my leg over the top of Calder's.

  "No one will ever get it except for you two," he said. "No one understands me. So if I do let myself get closer to this girl, how should I explain the fact that I can only fall asleep on the floor?" he asked. "Or, wait, how about this—when she asks me to tell her about my family, I'll say, 'Oh them? Yeah, did you hear about that cult? Acadia? Right, well they were there—they drowned, my mom, my dad, my pregnant sister, dead all of them. Deal with that. I still can't. Oh and these scars on my back? Yeah, that was from the time I was beaten with a whip like a damn dog. You wanna catch a movie tonight?'"

  "Xander," Calder said, distress obvious in the huskiness of his voice.

  "Yeah," Xander said, staring upward.

  "Maybe no one will get it to the extent we do, but someone will get it, Xander. Other people have been through bad things, too. Or if they haven't, they have the compassion to understand people who have been. Give her a chance," I said.

  He let out a sigh and continued to stare up at the ceiling. "I still hear his voice in my head," he said quietly. "Like, all the damn time. It's like he haunts me."

  I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I know. I hear it, too," I said in understanding.

  Calder cleared his throat and said, "Me, too."

  We were quiet for a minute. I listened to them breathing right next to me, gratitude washing over me at their presence alone. "So, okay, here we are," I said. "Three messed-up people, but we're alive. And we get a second chance. And so, I don't know," I lifted up on one elbow and faced the boys, "I for one am going to grab it. I'd like to think it's not, but if this is the one life we have to live, if this is it, then I'm not going to live it being miserable. Especially now that I have you two back. What do you say? We'll try our best? Together?"

  Calder smiled over at me, and Xander bit his lip and then let out a small huff of air. "Yeah."

  "Me, too," Calder said again, reaching across Xander and taking my hand. I smiled at both of them and then laid my head on Xander's chest and wrapped my arm around him and Calder. Calder laid his head on Xander's chest next to mine and wrapped his arm around both of us, too. Xander started laughing as we all hugged in the somewhat ridiculously, but still aptly, named Bed of Healing, and there was always healing in laughter and so that bed did its job once again, at least for that moment.

  "By the way, where'd you meet her?" I asked after a m
inute.

  "Ex-cult member mingle dot com," Xander said, deadpan.

  A loud laugh burst out of Calder and I looked up at Xander who was trying not to laugh, too. He lost though and burst out laughing as well, and then so did I. Calder and I both rolled back onto our backs, still laughing

  "Well she'll definitely get you, then. No worries there." I grinned.

  We all reined in our laughter and Xander looked over at Calder. "By the way, Calder Raynes, if we're all really going to heal, you need to confess about your strange Coca-Cola hoarding habit. I know you hide it all over your apartment."

  Calder stopped moving entirely and turned toward Xander. "Okay," he said slowly, dragging the word out and glancing over at me. "But I don't even drink it."

  "Yeah, so, that doesn't actually make it less weird."

  I breathed out a laugh and after a minute, Calder did, too, turning his face up to the ceiling and laughing at himself. "All right. It's just this thing I have—"

  "Yeah, we're both well aware of all your 'things'," Xander said, unable to suppress another grin. I laughed and so did Calder, looking at me over Xander's chest.

  "Okay, you two, seriously, time to shower." Xander laughed.

  Calder and I sat up, Calder swinging his legs off the bed. "Okay, but first let's go get some food. Eden and I haven't eaten properly in almost a week."

  Xander and I got out of the bed and Xander nodded, running his hand through his hair. "All right, let's go. Eden, you okay here for half an hour or so?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled at Calder. I really was. Calder smiled back at me, looking a little unsure. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him close. He squeezed me back and kissed the top of my head, and then he and Xander left the room, closing the door behind them.

  **********

  Fifteen minutes later, I was showered and feeling like a new person. I had washed my hair twice, and shaved everywhere. I was standing in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around me, brushing the snarls out of my hair, since Calder didn't have any conditioner in his shower. I guessed boys didn't use that kind of stuff.

  I heard a loud knock on the door and pulled the towel tighter around me. Had Calder forgotten his key? Or maybe they just had too many take-out bags in their hands to reach for it.

  I hurried out of the room and down the hall. "Hold on," I called. I swung the door open and Madison was standing there. My smile faded and my cheeks heated as I realized I was just in a towel.

  Madison looked me over, her face blanching as she sucked in a breath. "Oh," she said.

  I backed up slightly and pulled the towel more tightly around me. "Sorry," I muttered, "I thought you were Calder."

  She raised her eyebrows. "So he's not here?"

  I shook my head. "He and Xander went out to get food."

  She stood staring at me and I shifted from one foot to the other, still holding my towel in place with one hand and the door with the other. "Um, do you want to come in?" I asked. "He should be home any minute."

  Madison frowned slightly, but walked in past me and I shut the door behind her. I turned toward her and she was looking me up and down again, a look of hurt all over her face. Well, this was awful. I knew better than anyone how difficult it was not to love Calder. I could understand how hard this must be for her. After all, I had felt that same devastation when I'd realized he had a girlfriend at the gallery.

  "Um . . ."

  Madison laughed softly. "I know, this is weird, right?" She shook her head. "I won't make it weirder. I just came over to drop off the few things Calder had at my house and to ask him what I should do about the money he earned from his show. He doesn't have a checking account. You probably know that. I planned to pay him in cash, but that was before he sold every painting in one night."

  I nodded, biting my lip. Of course he didn't have a checking account. He didn't have any ID. I didn't either. Yet. But I could get some. I knew my name.

  "You could write the check out to me," I said softly.

  Madison seemed to consider that and then shrugged her shoulders. She really was very, very pretty. She had expressive green eyes and dark, silky hair that hung straight to her shoulders. She was wearing a tight red skirt with a crisp white blouse and her makeup was perfect. I pulled my towel tightly against me again, feeling small and plain, my wet hair sticking to the sides of my face. "I guess I could do that," she finally said.

  I nodded as she set her purse down on Calder's kitchen counter and began rummaging through it.

  "My last name is Everson," I said quietly.

  Madison glanced over at me, tapping the pen she'd just taken out against her chin. "Eden Everson? Seriously? You were the missing girl all over the news when I was just a kid. There were posters of you everywhere around town. It was the first time I learned what a 'missing kid' was."

  I nodded, my brow furrowing. "Yes, that was me. That is me."

  She stared at me. "Wow," she finally said. "Why hasn't it been on the news that you're back?"

  I shook my head. "We haven't told the police yet," I said. "If you could keep it quiet until we do—"

  Madison waved the pen in front of her, shaking her head. "I won't say anything. I haven't said anything about Calder getting out of Acadia. That's yours to do with what you will. I mean, it's your life."

  I nodded. "Thank you," I said quietly.

  She looked down at the checkbook she'd removed, put it on the counter, and silently wrote the check out as I waited. When she was done, she pushed the check aside and put the checkbook and pen back in her purse, swinging it over her shoulder and turning to me. "Well, that's that. There's a business card under the check. It's a gallery downtown that's interested in him. Clearly, us doing business together isn't a great idea," her eyes cast downward, "for me at least."

  "I'm sorry," I said lamely. "I'm really so grateful to you for being his friend." She furrowed her brows, her lips twitching into a frown as if barely containing her pain, and I immediately regretted the choice of the word friend.

  "And for teaching him a few new bedroom tricks?" She laughed coldly. I grimaced, pain lancing through my heart. Madison grimaced, too, and looked down for a second and then back up at me. "I'm sorry. I said that to be a bitch."

  I shook my head. "I know this is a really terrible situation for you. I'm so sorry."

  "Jesus, you're sweet, too," she said. "Of course you would be." She took a deep breath, seeming to consider her next words. "Eden, here's the thing, I hoped for more with Calder. I won't lie. This hurts—a lot." She paused. "But, I guess if I look back, I can see I pushed him into a relationship with me. We should have been just friends. That's what I should have offered him. But, Calder . . . well, you know who Calder is and, Jesus, what he looks like." She shrugged. "I wanted him. I thought about myself, not him. And I hope I don't hurt you by saying this, but I should have known when he got up to go paint after every time we were . . . together, that it was because he felt guilty and needed to be with you in some way because of it. I see that now. And it sucks. He wasn't ready to move on. I wish I had realized that at the time. I really do."

  I shook my head. "It had been three years. Everyone thought I was dead for God's sake. Encouraging him to move on wasn't the wrong thing to do."

  She considered me for a second. "It was though. With Calder, it was. I have a feeling he could have lived to be ninety-nine and still not have gotten over you. Treasure that."

  I turned my head as she walked past me, some delicate-smelling, flowery perfume wafting by.

  When she got to the door, she turned her body halfway toward me, but didn't look at me. "You should go look in his studio. I haven't seen what's in there, but I think you should." Then the door closed quietly behind her.

  I stood there for a few minutes, just staring at the closed door. Then I turned to walk down the hall, stopping in front of the only door I hadn't been through in his apartment. It must be his studio. I took a deep breath and opened it.<
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  CHAPTER NINE

  Calder

  Xander and I pushed the door open and walked inside the apartment, slamming it behind us and setting all the take-out bags down on the counter.

  I immediately noticed the check sitting there with Madison's name on it, written out to Eden. My breath caught not only with the knowledge that Madison had been here while I was gone, but also at the number written on the check. Could that be right? Holy shit.

  "Eden," I called. I paused, being greeted with silence. I frowned and started walking toward the bedroom. I wondered where she was, but that same terror that had gripped me in the bowling alley when she was out of my sight for three minutes didn't grip me now. Well, that was a good sign.

  However, I was just slightly worried Madison had said something that would have upset her. Madison wasn't a mean person, but I'd also never seen her in a situation like this one.

  I turned down the hallway that led to the two bedrooms and immediately saw that the door to the one I used for my studio was open. My heart started beating more rapidly. Oh no, Eden. I let out a shaky breath as I turned into the doorway. Eden was standing stock still in the middle of the room, wrapped in a white towel, her head moving slowly in every direction, taking in the paintings surrounding her, some sitting propped against the walls, some hung on the walls, some resting on easels. There were hundreds of them. And they were all of her . . . and the small beginning of a new life I had imagined to be our daughter, the girl next to her on the canvas with the dark hair and blue eyes, the one that had been stolen right from the safety of Eden's body. As it turned out, the only one she'd ever carry. My heart filled with fear over what she must be thinking, what she felt about what she was looking at.

  "She'd be about two and a half now," I said very quietly. She must have heard us come in and wasn't surprised to hear my voice behind her.

  I felt tense, wary as I watched her. Eden's shoulders slumped very slightly. "She?" she asked.

  I nodded. "I always imagined it was a girl. I don't know why. I just did. I do."

  She nodded her head, a tear slipping down her cheek, but she smiled softly and wiped it away. "Me, too, actually," she said quietly. "I imagined you knew about her because you were with her. I pictured you together—it soothed me."