#42 Serenity - Serenity

I awoke naturally as my legs registered the weight of Lyle's head gravitating toward the couch. She moved without opening her eyes as she settled in behind my scrunched limbs. Lyle took on a much different aura as she slept, normally she seemed completely on guard and attentive. Now as her mouth opened slightly to take in a deep breath and her body loosed with a sigh she was different. Not different physically, she was still one of the most beautiful women I'd ever met and although her long limbs were contorted even more than my own I could still imagine her strong stance. Then perhaps, it was only to me that she appeared so different - it was mental I realized.

For the last few days that I'd known her it was clear that she was in a constant state of protecting, protecting those close to her, including me, even though I didn't notice initially. Laying here the roles were reverse, she was the vulnerable one. Somehow I got the feeling that this was not a regular part Lyle played, making me feel all the more for her.

I was reminded of something Tony told me months ago after I went hiking with he, Grace, and his two dogs around a hidden lake. One of the pups, Martin – Tony like giving his pets 'proper names' – raced out of the lake after a long swim only to dry off in the humid weather by shaking his furry coat directly beside me.

I of course threw a fit while Grace and Tony applauded Martin. Tony later told me as we walked through the pine thicket that I should feel honored: dogs only shake next to those who they trust because in those brief moments they are exposed. Back then I didn't think much of it and probably mumbled something along the lines of "just my luck". Now it was my luck, Lyle wasn't a drenched Labrador mix but that doesn't mean she didn't share some instinctual behaviors.

I'd run from her, yet she continued to choose to trust me. Enough to bring me into her family home, and enough to sleep soundly beside.

After allowing myself a moment to count the rises and falls of her chest I shifted carefully to avoid knocking the side of her face as I swung my legs over to sit up. It was completely silent in the home and I squinted at the clock above the mantel.

Just after 5:30am.

I peeked under the throw pillow where I stashed Mo Soileireacht, I couldn't believe I'd slept through the night so easily. Ruffling my hair I rose timidly waiting for my muscles to angrily tense with even the slightest movement. Surprisingly my body put up little complaint as I made my way to the bathroom, either I was recovered or my limbs were getting used to being strained and then slept on in unconventional positions.

Sunlight crept in from the high window whose frame was covered in a thin lace curtain and I went without the light switch as a thin veil of dusty sunrise lit the room. My eyes adjusted slowly and I leaned on the curved cheap porcelain sink. Out of habit I fixed my hair this time braiding the frizzy ends down my back. Still drowsy I closed my eyes while completing the simple and homely task.

When I opened them I stared directly into the mirror, half of the spotted glass was dimly illuminate by the window while the other half lay in shadows. I blink once and then again. Was I seeing alright?

I leaned closer and touched the glass. Serenity lay behind patient brown eyes as they stared back at me. My mother. A content smile graced her face as she watched me languidly. My hand shook as I ran it down the length of her chin pressing gently as if I was afraid my fingers would leave marks on her skin.

"How?"

Out of all the times I'd hallucinated it was never my mother that I saw. Her work were always the focus, perhaps because paint and canvas were what I knew best about her. Was it because I read Mo Soileireacht that I was seeing visions of her? I peered closer again this time noticing the lines and ridges in her skin. I traced over them expecting to feel slight bumps, she was a painting not a picture.

The style was not of her self portrait. Who painted this I wondered to myself as I admired the blended circles of pink that sat on the apples of her cheeks. My mother looked more radiant than in any photo I'd ever seen. I took in every detail meticulously focusing my wonder on memorizing her face and the emotion I felt as we locked eyes.

Suddenly a loud bang jarred me from my thoughts. For a split second I looked away as my body jerked from the disruption and when I looked back she was gone, replaced with my own reflection. I drew my hand away from the glass almost forgetting what caused my attention to falter when another loud bang sounded from outside the bathroom.

Not on the other side of the door but further into the hallway at the front of the house. Someone was at the door?

It couldn't be past 6am. I shook my head, perhaps the sounds were part of a dream as well, but as the banging continued I knew definitely it was not just a pounding in my head. Hurried footsteps joined the beat, they came from above me and I wagered the bathroom was seated directly below the stair case.

Beth and Ivy were up?

They must know the visitor. Another adopted child returned from a mysterious hiatus? Stranger things have happened.

"Can I help you?" Beth's voice was deeper than usual, had she just woken up?

A man addressed her but I couldn't make out what he said. Doing little to resist the urge to eavesdrop I leaned up against the sliding door. The man whose voice I didn't recognize and Beth exchanged a few more words, none of which I could definitively make out.

Without another thought I opened the bathroom door and peaked my head into the hallway that allowed me an unobstructed view directly to the doorway.

I took in the scene quickly just as Beth spoke. "There is no one here by that name-"

She and Ivy stood shoulder to shoulder blocking the two men from entering any further into their home. Past the women stood a uniformed man with close cropped hair, his hands were folded firmly over his chest and he watched the women with a downward disinterested gaze.

That all changed as his attention diverted to me, as did the man next to him. Mr. Smith grinned as we locked eyes and an inescapable chill ran down my spine. Once again my head felt light and I jerked backward as if I was going to faint. Thankfully my adrenaline caught me and I held onto the molding surrounding the doorway.

While my interruption held the men's attention Beth subtly reached to her side grabbing the baseball bat propped in the corner. Her sentence dropped off and she didn't have to turn around to figure out who the men were staring at.

It was obvious to me that Smith and his new partner were after me, and I could only guess that they had been pressuring the couple to give up my whereabouts.

My heart jumped and I stole a quick glance at the couch where I left Mo Soileireacht and Lyle. She'd moved from her resting position on the couch to an outcrop of three feet of drywall that blocked the tiled entrance from peering into the living room. Lyle caught my gaze from her hiding spot behind the thin wall. Slowly she shook her head.

What had I done?

"I think you gentlemen better leave." Beth asserted her grip on the bat tightening.

Smith laughed audibly, the sound shaking my eardrums. His partner grabbed at Ivy in an attempt to move her aside. Instantly Beth reacted swinging the wooden bat at the uniformed man knocking him to the ground.

What happened next was a blur.

Smith reached behind his back and without showing any fear to the bat wheeling woman he lunged forward hitting Beth's temple with the butt of his gun. The dark haired woman crumpled to the floor and as if attached by a string Ivy went with, attempting to catch her partner. I hardly registered Ivy's cry as Smith stepped apathetically over the Beth and pointed the weapon at me.

He'd come back to finish the job.

There was no emotion in his face as he cocked the gun, the crisp click was the only sound filling the once peaceful home. For the seconds before his next movement, I admit I didn't want to move. My eyes trailed back to Beth lying in her own doorway. This was my fault, I'd brought these men into their home. I wasn't just bad luck, I was a death wish.

I'd never been the praying type but now I found myself closing my eyes and whispering a silent prayer: that I would meet my mother soon.

Because of this I didn't see what happened next.

I heard only two things.

Ivy's strained scream, "Get her out of here!" as a body came in contact with me pulling me backwards. Then the most dreadful sound I'd ever heard in my life vibrated off the plain walls.

-

It seems as if peace lasts only so long for May and Lyle ..

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