Chapter Two
About an hour later, Fi, Jack and Carey dejectedly left their first museum of the day. "We can cross this one off the list," Fi said with a sigh. She thumbed through the stack of computer printouts in her hand, removed the website pages about said museum, and tossed them in a sidewalk garbage can. "No one in there's heard of a Rebecca Habib." Realizing something, Fi groaned. "Unless she changed her name since the last time we saw her." She doubted this though, as apparently Rebecca had used the same last name for at least thirty years.
Jack raised an eyebrow. "So you're really not going to tell us what this woman's deal is? It's one thing not to tell Mom until you have proof, but maybe if you clued us in we could help better."
"I'm sorry Jack, but –"
"For starters, I've begun questioning your strategy," he interrupted. "Why are we looking for a teenage girl instead of a woman Mom's age? When you said museums, I thought maybe Mom's friend worked in one, but then you asked one of the interns if they went to school with a Rebecca Habib."
Carey nodded in agreement. "Yeah Fi, Jack and I will be useless today if you don't tell us who...or what...we're really looking for."
Weighing her options, Fi conceded that if she didn't tell them, she would be on her own But her conscience kept warning her against breaking Rebecca's trust. What was that, anyway? She didn't owe this girl any loyalty, particularly not after the last time they met. Rebecca had fled again after promising to talk with Molly. Why should Fi protect her secret at all?
Because it's who I am, Fi thought grudgingly. I have my reasons for not telling Mom, but it would also be wrong to tell Rebecca's secret to anyone...even the guys. I should be the one to find her. "Just trust me, please?" she asked, hoping to get by on the 'blind faith' card. "I'll do most of the investigating."
"So what?" Jack grumbled. "We're just supposed to stand here and look pretty? You didn't need both of us for that."
Fi made an annoyed face at him. "Well, you could've stayed on the bus and done homework," she retorted. "I'm sure that would be a much more interesting day. You can walk back from here, right?"
While Jack glared and Carey laughed, she led the way to the next museum.
By two o'clock, Fiona and Jack were dragging their feet after their day of "sightseeing." They'd split up from Carey a couple hours ago following much-needed lunch at a food truck. Since the guys wanted to change up Fi's strategy, she compromised by telling Carey to visit antique stores. Her hope was that if he said his parents were looking to buy from the Habibs, who made a living selling items collected over hundreds of years, he'd be more likely to get a lead. It might be a long shot, but it's not like they could consult the phone book – Rebecca's family (unsurprisingly) wasn't listed.
"Okay, this is it," Fiona announced, stopping on the walkway in front of a long brick building. "The 'Arizona Society History Museum.' Going with me, Jack?"
Her brother sighed. "Fiona, I've been very patient and trusting on this adventure of yours, earning a truck-load of big brother points. Not only that, but I've endured stifling Arizona heat while criss-crossing this state's capital on public transportation. You take this one, sis. I am going to buy myself another bottle of water, while you go lie your butt off to another unsuspecting receptionist. I'll meet you in the lobby." He gave her one of his patented "I'm-really-not-kidding" glares. "When we get home, you're telling me what's going on. I deserve at least that much."
Not expecting her brother's lecture, Fiona only nodded, watching him as he marched to a vending machine. She then re-focused on her mission and walked up to the museum entrance.
Approaching the check-in desk, Fiona asked the only employee there if she could speak with the internship director. Like all the other employees, this one presumed she was looking to apply and called the correct office to relay her message, asking for a "Mrs. Dubois." Minutes later a gray-haired woman in her sixties entered the space behind the desk. To give them privacy, the other employee made himself scarce. "Hi there!" Mrs. Dubois said, her voice bubbly. "Do you need an application? We are currently accepting candidates."
"Actually, I wanted to ask you a question," Fiona said, beginning her practiced speech. "Do you know a Rebecca Habib? My name's Fiona, and we went to school together until I moved away a couple years ago. She works here and has a shift today, so I wanted to surprise her since she doesn't know I'm back in town yet." This introduction only took shape after drastic trial-and-error. Fiona had thought of the friend-from-school angle early on, but directors had still questioned why Rebecca's "close friend" didn't know her address.
This director instantly became a little less bubbly. Her expression scrutinizing, she tilted her head in consideration as she judged the believability of Fiona's story. "Yes, I know Rebecca," she said. The verdict must have been in Fi's favor.
After the day she had, Fiona wanted to hug the woman. Rebecca's here! Fiona thought, eager anxiety forming in her stomach. She's really here! We did it! "You do? Can I see her?"
"Her shift doesn't begin for another half hour," Mrs. Dubois answered, softening at Fiona's honest reply. "You can wait here in the lobby. She'll have to pass through since all employees show their ID at the desk when they arrive."
"Thank you!" Fi exclaimed. The director smiled in response and disappeared through the same door she'd used previously.
Her head spinning, Fiona couldn't speak when her brother stepped in her line of vision. Regaining her voice, she explained that she'd wait for Rebecca, and that he should call Carey on the cell to let him know what happened. At first Jack insisted on waiting with her, but she convinced him to meet up with Carey to check out the music store down the street instead.
After Jack left, Fiona perched on the wide base of a sculpture in the middle of the lobby. She still couldn't believe her psychic hunch had been right and Rebecca was really there. Paranoia made her worry that this might not be the Rebecca Habib they were looking for, but she reasoned that the odds were in their favor. How many Rebecca Habib's could there be who lived in Phoenix, Arizona and interned at a museum?
This had to be her.
The record player in Molly's living room spun Carole King's "Tapestry." She and Rebecca had sprawled out on opposite ends of the couch after school, cherishing the opportunity to listen to their favorite album at full volume. Mrs. McQuinn would be at a neighbor's house for most of the afternoon. The best friends talked plenty, non-stop as their parents would say, but for the moment they sat in companionable silence in deference to the soothing music.
When the beginning of "Natural Woman" started, Molly finally remarked, "It's almost over. You want to pick the next one?"
"Thanks, Molly, but I think I should get home," Rebecca said as she sat up on the couch.
Bewildered, Molly followed suit and frowned at her. "But it's not even five yet. Ma said she wouldn't be back until five-thirty."
Suddenly Rebecca seemed very emotional, her voice breaking. "I-I want to stay, I promise I do, but my parents told me this morning to get home early because..." Her deep sigh sounded like defeated acceptance. "...my birthday's in a few days. My parents want to, uh, take me shopping for my present."
"What?" Molly was floored, completely amazed that she hadn't known her best friend's birthday. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry! I...I would say I forgot, but I swear, I don't think you ever told me." Now she remembered. There'd been several times where Molly asked the all-important best friend question, but Rebecca either didn't answer or replied with "I don't like birthdays." This confused Molly. Who wouldn't want to celebrate their thirteenth birthday?
Her smile apologetic, Rebecca said, "It's okay, I know I didn't. Birthdays just don't register for me. They're not a big deal."
"But they are!" Molly insisted. "They're...they're celebrating a person's life, and presents are how you show someone you care. Don't you at least like getting presents?" When Rebecca shrugged, Molly continued, "Well, I don't care how you feel about birthdays, we're doing something. I'm going to buy you that new album you wanted and make a cake myself. When is it?"
Rebecca shook her head. "No, Molly, please don't go to any trouble –"
"Too late," Molly declared jokingly. "You might as well tell me, because if you don't, I'm going to make a cake for you every day this week until it's the right one."
Though Rebecca laughed, she couldn't keep the sadness out of her voice. "It's...it's Wednesday. Thank you, Molly." Then she hugged her best friend.
In that moment, Molly truly believed they would have cake and open presents on Rebecca's birthday.
Startled, present-day Molly held on to an audience chair for support when the vision ended. Well, maybe it was more of a memory than a vision, brought on by all this talk about her old best friend. She hated reliving this pain. That scene in particular, where she learned when Rebecca's birthday was...it made Molly understand how much she'd missed back then. Thirteen-year-old Molly hadn't realized that Rebecca had probably gone home to help pack up the house, not shopping for a present.
To this day she couldn't listen to "Tapestry" all the way through.
"Earth to Molly," Irene teased, walking over to her from the side aisle. They were rehearsing and running sound check in the small theater they'd booked for the next night. "You okay?" She lowered her voice as she glanced around for eavesdroppers. "Did you...see, something?"
Molly shook her head. "It was probably just a memory." Not eager to discuss her inner turmoil, she nodded at Irene's phone. Carey had bought his own at the start of the tour. "What did the kids say?"
"Carey and Jack are in a music store, but Fi wanted to stay in some museum. They should be here in about an hour depending on public transportation."
A museum? While Fiona appreciated history, Molly was instantly suspicious. Their other search for Rebecca had also taken them to a museum. That morning, the kids had been vague about their destination, tossing out "sightseeing" before fleeing the bus. Even then the adults had given each other skeptical looks. "We were right before," she said confidently. "They're trailing Rebecca. Fi and I went to a museum the last time too."
Irene sighed. "Well I can't say this is much of a surprise. We don't technically have any proof, but how do you want to handle this? Are you going to punish Fiona when she gets back?"
While Fiona had predictably gone against her wishes, Molly couldn't be too angry with her. Fiona was already invested in this because of her vision. Molly couldn't deny her the chance to pursue it, not when she herself wanted to act on a vision so many times but couldn't. Plus, Fiona was trying to do this for her mother. Molly had to admit that she was grateful and secretly wanted the elusive Rebecca to be found. "No," she answered. "They can investigate, but I'm not getting involved until Rebecca shows up to talk to me."
Twenty-five minutes had passed since Fi sat down in the lobby. She knew this because she'd been staring at the wall clock in front of her, only breaking her gaze to blink or watch the door. Part of her wished her brother stayed just so they could've talked while they waited, but then again, he would have wanted to talk about Rebecca's secret. If Rebecca didn't show up for her shift, all bets were off. She'd have to explain everything to them and her mother when they met her at the theater.
While Fiona wanted to reunite her mother and Rebecca first, she wouldn't be able to keep what she knew from her family. Jack and Carey wouldn't cover for her again unless she confessed. Similarly, her mother might not "play dumb" again and let Fiona's mission continue. This was her last chance.
When the door opened again, as it had several times for visitors and other interns, Fiona whirled her head around automatically like there was a magnetic pull. She almost stopped breathing when a dark-haired girl, who appeared to be around her age, walked in wearing a colorful sundress and a patterned cloth bag on her shoulder.
Leaping to her feet, Fiona made a beeline to a spot several feet ahead in Rebecca's path to the desk, hoping to startle but not ambush her. She was the one shocked when Rebecca smiled before Fi could say a word. This whole time, Fi had been worried her mother's old friend would bolt the second she realized she had been found. "Fiona Phillips?" Rebecca exclaimed. The thirteen-hundred-year-old being also seemed surprised, but not anxious. Actually if internship director Mrs. Dubois happened to view this, she would think they really were two friends who'd spent years apart. "Fiona...I'm so glad to see you." Rebecca hugged Fiona in greeting, tears forming as the two pulled away. "I can't believe you're here."
"Um...wow...hi," Fiona stuttered, not anticipating this reaction at all. In her head she'd been certain that Rebecca would have an angry or frightened attitude, scared that someone who knew her secret had caught up with her. "I'm glad you're glad to see me. Honestly I was worried you'd run."
Rebecca laughed as she wiped her eyes. "That is understandable. I'm sure your mother would have the same expectation." She became somber, her face betraying thirty-year-old regret. (Though arguably thirty years must feel like a few months to her. Likewise, her last meeting with Fi must feel like it was only days earlier if that.) "You must understand, Fiona...no one has ever found me before, not in over a thousand years."
Letting Fiona absorb this for a moment, she continued, "It is never my decision to leave. After a year or so in yet another town, my parents insist that people will notice that I'm not aging, and we must run in the middle of the night like criminals. They tell me 'things will be better' when I have reached maturity and can pass as an adult. Then they can alter my birth certificate so I am eighteen and no longer have to attend school. But Fiona...that won't be for at least another three or four hundred years, after already enduring this for a millennium." She paused to let out a deep breath, while Fiona took this all in with open astonishment.
"I suppose the point I am trying to make is that I never choose to abandon those who manage to mean something to me. Your mother was the first person I ever allowed myself to become real friends with, and I thought my parents acknowledged our bond. I'd believed they would let me tell Molly the truth before we moved so we could at least keep in touch, pending her acceptance of what I was of course. They didn't. I was furious with them for more than a decade, then even more so when they wouldn't permit me to call after...after she lost her husband." She paused, realizing. "I'm so sorry about your father, Fiona. I don't think I said that before."
Processing the heartfelt explanation, Fiona began to get a clear picture of Rebecca's oppressive living conditions. She knew that being a regular teenager was tough enough even when it didn't last for centuries. Rebecca must be so frustrated, having the wisdom of an adult but not the respect she deserved. In that instant Fi also forgave her for what happened at their initial meeting. "So, two years ago, when you promised to tell my mom..."
"I meant it," Rebecca insisted, encouraged by Fiona's sympathy. "I was nervous about confronting an old friend, which is something I've never done in my entire life, but I was gathering the courage to do it. Then my parents saw you leave."
Fiona frowned. "And they forced you to run. Again." At Rebecca's nod of confirmation, Fi glanced to the door. She was getting an idea. "If what you're saying is true, then...let's go now, while your parents think you're at work." It all seemed feasible to her. They could easily meet up with her mother and then get back to the museum before Rebecca's scheduled shift was over.
The bold move stunned Rebecca for a second. She thought it over, clearly torn between family and her only chance to make amends for the past. Finally she shook her head with determination and turned to Fiona. "I fear that my parents will find out, but speaking to Molly again is worth the risk." She looked at the front desk. "I'll call the director from there and tell her I won't be in today. She might call my parents if I don't show up for work."
"Tell Mrs. Dubois you're hanging out with your old friend Fiona," Fi said with a sly grin. At Rebecca's bemused expression, she explained how she knew to wait in the lobby. Rebecca laughed and went over to make the call.
Five minutes later they were walking in the direction of the music store. "Jack and Carey are down the block," Fiona said. "We have to meet up with them, so we'll take the bus from there."
"Carey?"
"You remember my friend Clu, right? It's his older brother. Their parents are Ned and Irene Bell, who tour with us, so usually either Clu or Carey will live on the bus too. Though Carey's more of a permanent addition since he plays guitar for the band now." As they walked, Fiona became nervous about what she'd say to Carey and Jack. They would want to know why they'd been looking for "Rebecca's daughter" instead of Rebecca herself.
Sensing this, Rebecca said, "Fiona, it's bad enough that I've told you and plan to tell your mother. They can't know too. We'll say I'm Rebecca's daughter...and that Rebecca is a family name, I guess."
Fiona contemplated this. "Okay. It can be like that show Gilmore Girls, where the daughter has the same name as her mother but everyone calls her 'Rory' instead of 'Lorelai'...you don't happen to have a nickname, do you? Maybe 'Becky'?"
"No one's called me 'Becky' in the thousand years I've lived on this earth."
"Never mind then."
When they were only a few storefronts away, Rebecca stopped. Fiona almost lost her footing as she halted and backtracked. "The guys said the store's the last one on the block. Problem?"
Rebecca stared at her, puzzled. "Fiona...how did you find me? And why now?"
Hesitating, Fiona recalled her mother's heartbroken question from earlier that morning: "Fiona, if this woman won't trust me with the biggest secret of her life, why in the world should I trust her with mine?" Technically this argument didn't hold anymore after Rebecca's revelation, but it still made Fiona pause. She'd kept Rebecca's story to herself out of respect. Didn't she owe her own mother the same courtesy? "Um...call it an instinct," she replied.
