Enthralled: Tainted Book Four

10. Silly Old Man

Tara

When John and I reached Clem's house, the old place loomed like a relic from another era, which, I supposed, was exactly what it was. The door creaked open before we even knocked, and Amanda stood there, a black-haired woman with the kind of grace that seemed better suited to a ballroom than a front porch. Her eyes, wide and gray, flickered with a mix of curiosity and something else.

"John, Tara," she greeted us with a smile that felt like it belonged to someone who wasn't entirely sure smiles were still in fashion. "I'm happy to see you."

We stepped inside, and I couldn't help but notice how she moved, slowly, like she was testing her limbs, as if even the act of walking was something she had to relearn.

I didn't know why I thought the house would smell of mothballs and dust, but I was happily surprised to breathe in the scent of fresh polish and old wood and lemon. The place had the kind of silence that made you feel like you were intruding on something ancient, though, as if its history were a living, breathing thing.

"Clem out?" John asked in his usual flat monotone.

"Yes," she said, smoothing her hand over her slightly rounded belly, as if she needed to remind herself it was there. "He's in and out quite frequently, actually. Just this morning, the Council sent a boy to fetch him for something since the silly old man won't answer his phone most of the time. You'd think he would have improved his communication skills in two hundred years."

"He honed other skills," John commented dryly.

We followed her into the parlor, where the curtains were wide open, showing off the morning sun, giving the room a warm, almost golden hue. Catching my eye, the light glinted off of something silver on one of the end tables, and I spotted a little silver box with fancy designs etched on the top along with the initials AAG. The box was cracked open a bit, and little business cards poked out from the side.

I wonder if Amanda's wants to start working somewhere? I thought absently as she for us to sit.

John led me over to a velvety sofa that sighed under our weight, the old-school furniture making me feel like I was stepping back in time, and I perched hesitantly on the very edge of it. I wasn't going to be the one to damage a two-hundred-year antique!

"I wanted to thank you," Amanda began. "For your help in freeing me. I know it wasn't easy."

"You don't have to thank us, Amanda." I shook my head. "We're just glad you're okay."

"I can't believe so much time has passed. It's all so different now. I—" Amanda looked down at her fingers as they plucked at the seams of her jeans. "I'm wearing pants today. I never thought I'd see the day where that was allowed, let alone acceptable."

Her voice wavered between disbelief and something close to pride as she smoothed one hand over the soft material covering her thigh. John nodded, clearly unsure of what to say and really, what could you say to someone who had skipped over two centuries like it was nothing more than a nap?

"How are you adjusting?" I asked gently.

"Slowly. William, he's been keeping me here, in the house. Says it's safer this way, that the world outside is too much, too fast." Her lips twisted into a small smile, but there was sadness in it, too. "But I want to see it. I want to understand what I missed."

"Everything okay with the baby?"

"I just found out I was expecting before... before I was petrified." Her hand moved to her belly again, gently cupping the slight swell beneath her shirt. "I was so scared that the baby wouldn't survive, but the doctor says everything is fine."