Page 8 of Forever Mine

Something about the place where I'd had the panic attack soothed and called to me as much as it freaked me out. Lily. It had to be Lily. I hadn't seen her, but there was a certain smell to those in a pack, and something familiar about her smell was all over that place. My heart longed for my friend, my family, my pack. In the eight years since I'd left, I had never felt it more profoundly.

Oscar filled the silence of the remainder of the breakfast. “The Golden Gate Bridge. Oh, and Alcatraz. Do you think we can actually tour the old prison? Can we go to the wharves? I can't wait to see the sea lions! And did you know that in Chinatown they make fortune cookies?”

Oscar for the most part was a pretty serious kid, but he loved history and research and he had been spending every waking hour for the last three weeks learning everything he could about San Francisco. He was a walking, talking encyclopedia now, and it was great to see him so happy and excited for a change. I knew I was going to have to push my demons aside and make this an awesome trip for him.

Annie was still watching me warily. I knew my panic attack had worried her. I hated knowing that, but I was determined to put on a good front for the day.

“I'm okay,” I said, giving her a reassuring hug.

It had taken me several years to be able to do that comfortably, and I knew it meant a lot to Annie. I had never been an extremely touchy-feely kind of person, but after the rape, the thought of being touched or touching anyone was too hard. I struggled to connect and bond with Oscar when he was first born because of it. It was partly why he was so attached to Annie and Jacob. I felt guilty about a lot of things like that, but when people touched me even casually, like the brush of a hand or a hug, it triggered things I'd rather forget. Oscar was now the exception. It was kind of impossible to love a kid and not have them up in your personal space, but Annie knew my personal bubble boundaries and on rare occasions like a hug when it was breached, it had to be instigated by me, on my terms. I appreciated that they never pushed for more than I felt I could offer.

Her eyes were misted over when I finally pulled back..

“I need to shower and change,” I said, pointing out my day-old clothes.

“Then we can head for the wharves?” an excited Oscar questioned.

“Yes,” I said, ruffling his hair, “then we can head for the wharves.”

I left them in the dining room to run back upstairs and shower and change. They had returned to the room by the time I was ready.

As we headed off on our adventure for the day, Oscar began again telling me how important it was that we go straight to this one particular charter down at the wharves to get the “real Alcatraz tour” that would let us on the island.

“Mommy, you don't understand. All the others only do boat rides around the island and don't let you on it.”

When did my kid get to be so smart?

With Annie and Jacob, we all happily headed down to Fisherman's Wharf and to the only charter that Oscar approved. It broke my heart seeing the disappointment set in as we were told that all tours were filled for the entire week we were there. He wouldn't get to set foot on Alcatraz Island, and we now knew they booked sometimes months in advance and we should have ordered online.

We headed over to Pier 45 to see the sea lions as consolation and I promised we'd at least take one of the other Alcatraz cruises if he still wanted. He wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not. Watching the sea lions battle for their place on the piers was entertaining and exciting enough to temporarily curb his disappoint.

Pier 45 was also home to the Musee Mecanique, home to a collection of classic coin-operated arcade games. That definitely lightened the blow some for Oscar. It hadn't hit his “things to do” list in his research, but was a small treasure of a place that I knew would entertain him for hours if I'd let him. He wandered some with Jacob while Annie and I stood outside enjoying the beautiful views. We walked up and down a few of the wharves, glancing around the various shops there.

“They won't come out of there on their own, you know,” I told her with certainty.

“Oh, I know, but gives us some good girl time. You want to talk about what happened?”

I knew it was coming. It always did. I should have known that's why she wanted time alone, away from Oscar. I shrugged. “I'm sorry, it just happens sometimes and I can't control it, Annie. It's just . . ."

"I know, Jane. It's hard to talk about things, but eventually you have to open up to someone, anyone. It's not healthy, and I'm worried about you. You were doing so well. I thought maybe the worst was behind us, but that panic attack was the worst you've had in years."

She brushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear. When I didn't flinch, she guided my chin up till I met her eyes. There was much concern there and so many questions I didn't want to answer.

"Did you see him?"

I looked at her, genuinely confused. She was a psychologist, not exactly known for such direct questions. "Who?"

"Oscar's father?"

"What? No. Honestly, I wouldn't even know what he looked like anyway." I stopped myself mid-ramble. It was the closest I'd ever come to admitting the rape.

I knew she already knew about it, though. Without missing a beat or showing any sign of surprise, she asked, "Then what?"

"I smelled something familiar. You know, from my past, and it freaked me out."

Annie and Jacob were both too smart not to have recognized quirks like my heightened sense of smell over the years. I didn't even try to disguise it this time and I noticed her heart rate quicken just a little in interest. I would die before ever telling anyone my family secrets, but at times I just got the feeling they knew I was somehow different, special even.

We headed back to the museum in companionable silence. My answer seemed sufficient enough to stave off any further questions, for now.

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