Wanderlust: Book Two - Edgewood Series by McQuestion Karen

Author:McQuestion, Karen [McQuestion, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-02-07T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Nadia

When the bus finally came up to a wrought-iron gate, Kevin Adams hit the brakes so hard I had to grab the seat in front of me to keep from falling out of my seat. “Smooth stop, slick,” Mr. Specter said wryly.

“Yeah well, you didn’t want to drive so you can’t say too much,” Kevin said. After that they talked so quietly I couldn’t catch what they were saying, and then Kevin pushed the button to open the bus door and jogged down the steps to go outside. The sun was setting ahead of us, giving me a fairly good view. Oswald Neverman’s home may have been a convent once, but from here it looked like a prison. The grounds were surrounded by a ten-foot high wall, made up of solid rock. Along the top edge barbed wire was strung between imbedded posts, interspersed with shards of glass. No one was getting in or out, or at least it wasn’t going to be easy. I craned my neck and watched as Kevin pressed some numbers into a keypad next to the gate. When he was done, it slowly swung inward. Pretty high-tech considering we were in the middle of nowhere. Once the gate started moving, Kevin bounded back up the stairs to get behind the wheel.

When the bus got through the opening, I looked back to see the gate close shut behind us. “We’re safe now,” Russ said, which should have made me feel good, but it didn’t. He was humoring me, I thought, like he was reassuring a scared kid.

I was irked because earlier we’d been having a heartfelt conversation and feeling a connection between us, and then Mallory had laughed and the link was broken. Just like that, his focus had shifted. I felt Russ’s attention leave me. He’d been curious about what Mallory was laughing at and when he saw, I felt his jealousy of Jameson. He wished he was sitting with her. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh. My heart dropped. How stupid had I been to think he’d picked me or that he loved me? Feeling other people’s emotions was a complicated process that required sorting and identifying. What felt like love was sometimes affection, or fondness, or simple attraction. Even when it was love, that didn’t mean it was the kind I wanted, which was the soul mate, romantic kind of love. The kind of love you feel when you see someone and know that person was put on this Earth just for you. That you’d do anything for him and he’d do the same for you.

I once saw an ancient couple being interviewed on TV on their fiftieth wedding anniversary. When they asked the secret to a long, happy marriage, the man said, “Every day I do everything I can to make her happy, and every day she does everything she can to make me happy, and then we’re both happy.”

Such a simple concept, so why doesn’t it work that way for everybody? Maybe because life and feelings and other people get in the way.

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