Timeless(5)

Alexandria looked away quickly, contemplating turning around and making her way quietly back down the stairs, but what the heck, any second and the boy would see her. Instead, she leaned against the banister and began examining an imaginary broken fingernail, waiting for him to leave.

"Alexandria?" the boy said, cursing when he stepped on an empty beer can with his bare foot.

Alexandria's head shot up, her breath catching in her throat, the fingernail instantly forgotten. "Bran?"

For a moment, she was frozen to the spot, held in place by his captivating dark eyes.

She turned away, her stomach churning, her mind racing. How could he have done this to her?

"Alexandria, wait," Bran called, but he was too late, Alexandria was already running down the stairs, tears streaming down her face. She avoided stepping on every can, bottle and plate littering the stairs.

Bran started toward the steps, only to be confronted by a growing barricade comprising cans, bottles, pizza crusts and plates, all the trash that had littered the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, Alexandria came to a skidding halt in front of a woman standing in the doorway. Stanton, Alexandria noticed, was gone.

The woman, who had long, fair hair and wore a long, flowing white dress with strands of beads and charms hanging around her neck, spoke first.

"Hi, I'm Aunt Mindy," she said, holding out her arms. "So nice to—"

Alexandria shook her head, her lips sealed tightly closed, then, sidestepping the woman, she ran out the doorway to her car. She fumbled with the jammed car door handle, then stamped her foot furiously. The car door flew open and she climbed in, speeding away in a flurry of gravel.

"And it was so nice seeing you, too," Mindy said, watching Alexandria run across the driveway. She turned and looked around the disheveled room shaking her head. "Kat, Kat, Kat…"

Bran heaved himself effortlessly over the banister, landing evenly on his two feet, t-shirt still in his hand.

"Well," Mindy said, watching him, her gaze like an accusation. "It looks like I got here just in time." She clicked her fingers and the barrier of trash tumbled noisily down the stairs.

"Mindy," Bran said, dragging the t-shirt over his tousled hair. He looked at the pile of trash at the bottom of the stairs. "That was you?"

She nodded. "I thought the girl could do with a head start."

"You look good," he said.

"For my age, you mean? Thirty isn't that bad."

He gave her a knowing look.

"Very well, then, forty."

"No, I—"

"Yes, I'm forty, and you are what, a sixty-something-year-old man forever trapped in an eighteen-year-old body—"

"It isn't everything it's cracked up to be," he retorted. "Look, if you are still angry about—"

"Me and you? Please, that was years ago. I was just a teenager, and as you can see, I'm not a teenager any more. And besides, there have been plenty of men that have turned my head since, lifted these skirts," she said, swishing her long skirts with her hands. "You, my friend, are nothing more than a forgotten childhood memory."

"I'm glad, Mindy. I wouldn't want there to be any bad blood between us."

Mindy looked around the room, shaking her head at memories that echoed the scene before her. "So, what have you done now?" she asked, shaking the girl on the sofa. "Or should I say, whom?"

"It isn’t like that."

Mindy raised her eyebrows. "Well, that would be a first, wouldn't it?" She shook the girl harder. "Wakey, wakey, sweetheart, the party's over. It's time to go home."

The girl moaned and sat up, wiping a string of saliva from her chin. "Really? Already?" She looked about her. "Do you know where my shoes are?" She felt her chest. "My bra. I'm sure I was wearing one…"

Mindy snapped her fingers and held out her hand. "These shoes?" she asked. In her other hand, she held a black bra.

"Yeah. Thanks." She looked up at Mindy. "Who are you, anyway? The cleaner?"

Mindy smiled. "You could say that. I'm forever cleaning up messes around here, it seems. But no, I'm the Aunt."

"Cool. My aunt's dead," the girl said matter-of-factly while slipping into her shoes. She shoved the bra into a bag beside her feet.

"How lucky for her that she doesn't have to see you like this," Mindy said, helping the girl to her feet and guiding her toward the door. Bran, of course, was already gone. "Typical," she mumbled.

"Will you say bye to Kat for me?"

"I will," Aunt Mindy agreed.

"How am I going to get home?" the girl drawled. "My ride's already gone home, with someone else, I might add. Bastard."