“I would never turn my back on you.”
“I know.” It was true. Jack had proved his loyalty, more than once—unlike some people. The thought of her sister burned anger hot against her face. “I can’t wait to get my hands on Jeannie,” she said, her tone hardening.
“I don’t want you going back to the boarding house.” He tightened his embrace. “I don’t know what she’s up to, but I don’t trust her.”
“Not that lying in your arms all night doesn’t sound inviting...” The thought cooled her tone and charmed the barrier she’d erected around herself. “But I’m not afraid of Jeannie. I don’t know why she lied about me being married, but if she wanted to hurt me physically, she could’ve done that a long time ago.”
“That’s true,” Jack said with reservation, still clinging to her.
“I don’t understand why she did it.” Izzy let her thoughts filter out into conversation. “I can’t even begin to comprehend what she’s trying to accomplish.”
Thoughts of Madame Petulengro’s other statement, about her soul being in danger, flashed in Izzy’s mind. She discarded it without much thought. She couldn’t come up with a viable scenario for Jeannie’s actions being a threat to her soul.
But her happiness—that was another matter. Jeannie had clearly tried to destroy Izzy’s chances of happiness. Izzy intended to see that Jeannie was held accountable for her actions.
Chapter 24
Later the following day...
After Jack’s party
IZZY STROLLED up the steps of the boarding house. The afternoon sun peeked through the elm and maple trees in the front yard, casting a filtered glow across the screen door. The pink hydrangeas, now in full bloom, scented the veranda with their sweet aroma.
Instead of going inside, Izzy eased into the cushioned swing and used her foot to propel back-and-forth with a gentle sway. The chains creaked as she reflected back on the day’s events. The party had gone well, she thought.
She still didn’t know what to think of the apparent ghost having prompted her to give Jack the LL Bean hunting knife, but he seemed to like the gift.
Jeannie, her lying witch of a sister, had been dead-set against it—hey...where was she anyway? Izzy hadn’t seen her in a couple of days, which was probably a good thing. Her anger toward Jeannie hadn’t eased, and when she finally did find her—her dear, sweet sister was going to be sorry. Funny, every time she called her that, it seemed like a foreign concept.
Izzy shook off Jeannie’s betraying absence in favor of more pleasant thoughts of Jack. The party was cut short because he had to fly an early evening patrol, but he’d promised he’d be at the Cool Cat by ten. She hoped he’d show. Singing was a lot more fun with him sitting at the bar watching her with that big ole grin spread across his face. She loved the way his charcoal eyes sparkled when he looked at her, as if he saw everything and nothing, all at the same time.
Jack. Jack. Jack. She tried to recall the exact moment she’d fallen in love with him, but it seemed as if he’d always been there. A chill swept past Izzy. She shivered and massaged her arms, trying to shake the odd feeling, the sudden sense of déjà vu.
Rising, she stood with her arms folded across her chest and gazed out at the neighborhood around her. Mature trees, shrubs and countless varieties of flowers dotted the landscape.
Izzy loved it here, but for some reason she felt like an outsider. Maybe because she couldn’t remember anything past the last thirty days or so. Jack was her first memory, and even then, she felt like she’d known him always.
Wondering whether or not she’d ever regain her memory was exhaustive. She glanced at her watch. 3:30. Great, she had time for a quick nap before heading out to the club.
Izzy climbed the stairs to her studio apartment on the second floor and eased the door shut. She glanced at the twin beds, one hers and the other Jeannie’s.
Feeling flushed, she maneuvered around the end of the bed on the other side of the room and opened the window. A warm desert breeze ruffled the curtains as she turned and dropped down atop the covers.
God, she’d been feeling so tired the last few days. Maybe Madame Petulengro was right. Was exhaustion a sign of pregnancy? Her eyes fluttered shut and she quickly succumbed to a much-welcomed state of slumber.
I hope I’m still here when I wake up, entered her mind as a transitory thought—too fleeting to hang onto for long.
Izzy didn’t know when she went from the boarding house to the magical realm where she’d been meeting her mother. Each time she returned from the past, she experienced a delayed reaction and it usually took a couple of minutes to regain her full memory.
Even so, she always recognized her mother right away. But Cynthia Miller wasn’t alone this time. This time James Miller accompanied his wife.
He hadn’t changed a bit since the accident that had taken his life fifteen years ago. Still young and as handsome as ever with his blond hair and sparkling eyes the color of the sky. Izzy rushed toward her parents and hesitated a moment, looking at her mother for confirmation. After a quick nod, Izzy threw her arms around them both.
Her heart pounded harder and faster until it felt like it was expanding into her throat and choking out the ability to breathe. She gulped in quick short breaths that somehow bathed her in a veil of harmonious peace.
They parted, reluctantly, but each parent clung to Izzy’s hands.
“Sweetheart,” her father finally spoke to her, “you’re every bit as beautiful as your mother.”
Enjoying the compliment, Izzy felt a blush heating her cheeks. “Daddy...you always were the flatterer.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’ve always been well-inspired.”
“So, how’d it feel to jam with Hendrix and Morrison?” Izzy asked, and her mother cut her eyes, clearly amused.
“Like heaven.” The smile tipping the corners of his mouth supported that notion.
To think that she’d robbed them of such moments all those years she’d kept them earthbound saddened Izzy. “I’m so sorry.” Remorse fueled the words. She examined their faces, looking for any clue that she might be forgiven.
“For what?” A skeptical laugh accompanied Cynthia’s inquiry.
“Because I kept you tied to me...for far too long.” Izzy had never been more ashamed of her actions.
“What?” Her father’s tone was just as skeptical as her mother’s. “Sweetheart...you didn’t keep us there.” He paused long enough to shake his head in a slow, determined manner. “Your mother and I stayed because we couldn’t bear to leave you. We followed the light when it was time. When you were ready to let us go.”
“I was never ready to let you go,” Izzy admitted, but the feelings of guilt were dwindling.
“You were ready to handle it,” Cynthia said in her motherly voice.
“We do have a surprise for you.” Her father’s tone turned mysterious. “Someone wants to meet you.”
Rebecca? She dared to hope.
James turned to the paneled wall behind them. With an elaborate wave of the hand an entryway appeared. A young woman emerged from the darkened doorway.
A sense of familiarity washed over Izzy. Rebecca resembled her big sister.
“Izzy.” Rebecca embraced her. “I’ve waited so long to meet you.”
“Me too.” Hesitant to let go, Izzy’s heart swelled with tears. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”
Rebecca initiated the end of the hug, leaning back and taking Izzy’s hands in hers. “You’re going to be okay. And we’re always going to be with you, inside your heart.”
She released Izzy’s hands and slowly backed away. James Miller followed his younger daughter.
“Wait...” Izzy’s pleading, she feared, would do no good. “Please don’t go. Not yet.”
Cynthia Miller laid a comforting hand on Izzy’s shoulders and drew her closer as James and Rebecca disappeared into the darkness and the wall closed.
Joy and loneliness and regret poured over Izz
y. She clung to her mother, still surprised, as usual, that she could touch her. In all her years of ghost-whispering, she’d never been able to make physical contact with a spirit, but just now she’d touched three.
She lingered in the embrace, as always, reluctant to let go because she got the feeling this was the last time. Izzy drew a breath, taking in her mother’s scent. She smelled the way she used to—like gardenias—back when she was alive.
Memories rushed in like a hurricane, consuming Izzy. She gasped, remembering what she was doing here and why she’d been traveling through time.
“Did I do it?” Izzy searched her mother’s face.
“I believe you did.”
As the clouds cleared and her memories returned, she remembered the odd and out-of-place woman who claimed to be her sibling. “Jeannie’s not my sister,” she said aloud, trying to understand what that meant.
“No, dear, she isn’t.”
“Who is she? Why’d she say she was?”
“She’s a soul snatcher. She took on a human form and was waiting to claim your soul if you failed.”
“How do I get rid of her?” Anxiety and uncertainty overflowed in Izzy.
“She’s already gone. Her fate was sealed at the turning point...when you bought the hunting knife.”
Thoughts of Jeannie’s immediate reaction, her outward appearance of suddenly turning sick, must have been a last-ditch effort to save her own soul.
“How will her disappearance be explained?” Izzy asked, dozens of scenarios and outcomes rambling through her head.
“To all who knew Jeannie, she died in a car accident this morning with George Hadley.”
“What?” Horror pounded Izzy’s heart against her chest and hammered the blood through her veins. “They’re dead?” She could get with that soul-snatching Jeannie biting the dust, but, George...he was just Jeannie’s stoolie. Did he really deserve to die? “George too?”
“It was his destiny, sweetheart. He died the first time around in the car accident,” Cynthia said, and Izzy flashed her another questioning glance. “You can’t save everyone, sweetie.”
“Did I really do it?” Izzy asked, hope filling her voice. “Did I save Jack?”
“You must have.” Her smile reached all the way to her eyes. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” Those words threatened to darken Cynthia’s demeanor.
“I saved him?” Izzy exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her mother, closing the gap.
Jack was alive. She’d saved him. That was a first. She’d never had the opportunity to change destiny for a spirit before, in effect rewriting history.
The full impact of what that meant barged into Izzy’s mind. She gasped, choking back the heartache rising in her gut. She’d saved him and as a result, she’d never see him again.
“Is he still alive, in my time?” she asked, frantic. Fear swept across her tone.
“No, Isabelle, he’s not.” Her mother paused, a tear twinkling in her eye. “He died several years ago—your time. He did live a happy and long life though...thanks to you.”
Izzy dropped to the floor. In a matter of seconds, a lifetime had passed her by. The fact that he’d lived a full life offered her little comfort. Tears—excruciating, heart-wrenching droplets of her soul—spilled from her eyes, marking their caustic path down her cheeks. Her heart ached for the man she’d saved but would never again see or touch.
“Isabelle.” Her mother knelt beside her. “There isn’t much time. You have to decide where you want to be...in the future or the past.”
Izzy narrowed her tear-soaked eyes. “You mean I can go back to Jack?”
“Yes. But it’s final this time. No matter which way you go, the door will close behind you, forever this time. There’s no turning back.”
Izzy didn’t need to think about it. She knew where she was supposed to be—by Jack’s side. But could she? Did she have the right to invade a dimension other than her own?
“But I don’t belong there.” She wanted her mother to validate her desire to be with him.
“You belong wherever your heart is.”
“My heart is with Jack.” Hope trembled in her voice.
“Then your place is by his side,” she said, leading Izzy toward the door.
Izzy stopped short of the entryway. “Will I ever see you again?”
“You can count on it.” Cynthia smiled, nudging Izzy through the curtain.
The next conscious thought Izzy had was waking up in her little studio apartment at the boarding house—all memories of her mother and the visit they’d had vanished the moment she opened her eyes, along with any knowledge of her life in the future.
She lifted her head and glanced around, taking note of the time on the clock. 5:30. Good, she wasn’t late. She pushed up from the bed and hesitated while gathering her thoughts.
She’d napped for over an hour, but it didn’t feel like it. She must’ve had one hell of a workout in her dreams. Funny, she couldn’t remember them lately.
Izzy cleaned up and dressed for work. She put on the red polka dot number that Jacked liked so well. He’d told her, more than once that it was his favorite. She suspected that he liked the button down front, and she’d envisioned him, more than once unbuttoning it in a slow and deliberate teasing method.
She plucked a tube of Jeannie’s lipstick—red—off the dresser and dropped it into her purse. What she’d really like to find is some flavored lipstick to gloss over her lips right before she kissed Jack. She looked for it at Woolworth’s and even Marshall Field’s, but none of the stores had ever heard of such a thing as flavored lipstick.
For the first time, one of Izzy’s peculiar notions had ended in a desire to make it happen. How did she go about getting someone to make some flavored lip gloss? Hm...maybe Jack could help her find out.
10:30 came and went, without an appearance from Jack. He was a virtual no-show. Izzy didn’t understand it. Nothing could induce him to stand her up. Unless he was having second thoughts.
She’d taken him for his word at the party earlier, when he’d said he didn’t care about the consequences. Nothing—not even flying—was worth losing her.
He’d promised he’d be here, but he didn’t show. She waited until 11:30 and then decided to go home. Instead of taking the bus or a taxi, she opted to walk off her frustration. That would give her time to clear her head.
So many things were running through her mind on the way home. First and foremost, Jeannie’s lie. The thing Izzy couldn’t understand was why she’d done it? Why had she caused such heartache, knowing Izzy was in love with Jack? As mad as she was at her sister, she couldn’t let it get to her right now. She was too happy that she and Jack were free to declare their love and prepare for a life together. And they could start right now. If only he’d shown up.
Maybe he got tied up with something back at the base. She unlatched the front gate at the boarding house and glanced up as it creaked open. Jack was sitting on the steps with bandages on his forehead and forearm. Their eyes locked. He stood and held out his good arm, beckoning Izzy to him.
She draped her arms around him and felt him flinch. “What is it? What happened?” She let enough space separate them so she could study his face.
“I had a little accident.” He led her to the covered swing and draped his good arm around her shoulders as they sat together.
She held him with care and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, my God...are you all right? What happened?”
“You saved me,” he announced with pride. “I don’t know what possessed you to give me that hunting knife...or insist that I take it with me when I fly...but no matter,” he said with joyful laughter. “That knife saved my life tonight.”
“What happened?” she asked again, insistency invading her tone.
“Well, I was patrolling offshore, see, just minding my own business when the damned dinghy inflated from out of nowhere. Son-of-a-gun jammed the stick forward and sent me into a would-be fatal dive...if I hadn
’t had that knife to stab it...” His words trailed off as he snuggled her closer. “I’ll tell you, Isabelle, it’s almost like you were sent here to save me.” He glanced at her, worry filling his eyes. “You’re not going to leave now that you have, are you?”
She shook her head with a smile. “No. I didn’t save you to turn around and leave.”
“Good.” Darkness filled his eyes and she knew what was coming next. “Did she say why she did it? Why she said you were married?”
Izzy couldn’t venture a guess anymore than Jack. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday,” she said, shaking her head. “I figured she’d show up to your party, but I haven’t seen her.”
“Well, don’t think I’m going to be easy on her when I find her. She’s got some explaining to do.”
“Oh, you can count on that.” Izzy let her tone reveal the surety of her determination. “I’m not sure what she’s done is forgivable.” She turned to Jack. “She knew how I felt about you. She knew the tears I shed because I thought you and I could never be together.”
“I know, baby.” He drew her into the comfort of his embrace and held her tight. She knew, by the tightness of his one arm, that holding her was hurting him. She inched her way around until she found his hand and pulled his bad arm down into her lap, lacing her fingers with his. “Nobody’s ever going to separate us again. I don’t care what kind of stories they come up with.”
She kissed his lips and he pulled her closer. Desire crackled through Izzy.
“It’s you and me, baby. That’s it. There isn’t room for anyone else—except maybe a couple of little Jacks and Isabelles running around.” He added a touch of hearty laughter to his declaration.
He winced as he stretched out his right leg and dug inside his trouser pocket. Anxiety rippled through Izzy, pumping the blood into her heart at turbo-speed. He struggled to one knee and opened the little black box.
“Will you marry me, Isabelle?”
Jack and the rock in the box made a tempting offer. “Yes!” She dropped to her knees, urging him to sit down. “Jack, please, no theatrics. You were just in a plane crash.”
Incredible Dreams Page 22