by Jody Sharpe
16
Smoke And Orange Skies
I smell the cigar smoke first. He’s at the end of my bed, looking at me, smiling the dear smile I somehow remember. The smoking cigar is in his hand; he looks younger than his last photographs. I remember his face, his clear bright Irish blue eyes, the funny mustache GG loved. He wears his favorite suit and blue bow tie that hang in his closet still. I feel like I’m looking at someone through a sun-filled rain-washed window.
He speaks in nearly a whisper, “Maggie, my dear, forgive. Forgive them.”
Then he is gone like swirling wind blows out the candle on our back porch. My great grandfather has come to me. I must tell GG and Gram. I try to leap out of bed to run out of my room but I wake up. My Great Grandpa Joe has come to me in a dream. “Forgive them,” he whispered. Is he speaking of my mother and father? Is he telling me to forgive my parents, people I don’t even know?
The afternoon is sunny as I head down quaint Main Street. Tonight there will be a perfect sunset, according the Mystic Bay Town Crier. I imagine the sky will be blessed with shades of orange. But now birds are singing, calling each other with songs so unique I marvel, listening to their heavenly design. The sound is much louder than before; it almost drowns out the sound of the trees and bushes swaying to the wind. The sidewalk radiates the heat of the afternoon as I leave The Wizard Wrench Hardware.
Noah and I were on the phone last night for an hour. I told him about the dream. Noah says he can learn from my dream too. Forgiving should always be in our hearts. When I find his mother I will tell him, but I haven’t told him anything about the three women until I know for sure. He says he doesn’t want to know till he gets home, but I will know today. I feel it. He is on a book tour and calls at night when I get home from work and texts me photos of the places he’s been…Chicago, St. Louis, New Orleans and now Los Angeles. I assure him I will speak today to Jack about his meeting with my mother, Polly An. I’ll ask him if we will refer to her now by her legal name, Lyla. I’ve known Jack all my life, I can’t be afraid. I didn’t tell Noah about the hum of trees yet, but I will. I push that from the clouds in my mind.
Alma Walin is not Noah’s mother. With her brown long ponytail down her back, she was warm and welcoming. Her beautiful face lit up remembering the past when I asked about Marshall Greenstreet and her thoughts as a consultant thirty years ago for his first Connor Diamond novel. She put her hand over her heart. She fondly reminisced about the interview with the budding novelist.
“So handsome he was then,” she exclaimed. “Even though I was engaged to Willie, I have to admit to a school girl crush on that sophisticated man, a writer from New York, and me just a local girl with abilities that scared me back then.”
“Tell me, how did he find you?”
“Our town had a solid reputation. Not a fake among us. He read about Willie and his father, Willie Senior, and their palmistry in a San Francisco newspaper. It gave him the idea, he told us, to write about a psychic detective. Willie introduced us since Marshall asked who else in town was really psychic. He was intently interested in my newfound healing abilities and took copious notes. He paid us for helping him and another healthy amount after it was a best seller. He asked all of us if our relationship with him could remain anonymous and, of course, we didn’t mind, at least Willie and I didn’t. We knew which of us in town he’d likely interviewed. There were just a handful of us in town thirty years ago. Willie, your grandmother, and great grandma were and still are the most known, but the numbers have grown since then. People with intuitive abilities are drawn to this town now. How wonderful his son is writing an article about his father.”
“Marshall is ill and so Noah has finished his last novel for him and is on book tour. He asked me to decipher who in town his dad might have interviewed. I tried to use my own limited intuition without asking my Great Grandmother or Gram. He would love to meet you and wanted me to get some notes ready.”
“ I feel so badly. Marshall is ill. He came in to the store when he moved back here with his wife, Josephine, who was so very ill then. He looked old and wasn’t well himself, Willie and I concluded. I offered my services, but he refused. He said his wife didn’t believe in psychic healing and so I never met her or helped him, unfortunately. If Noah wants me to visit him and see what I can do, I will, of course.” Alma was sincere and I thanked her for her help, telling her I would give her kind offer to Noah.
Her eyes reflected memories of a long ago chapter of her life. Noah said I would see the emotion in her eyes, but I didn’t. Sharon Manuel is babysitting Emma Rose today. I will stop by there after seeing Tina. It’s hard to believe it’s one of these last two women. However, there could be someone else in town, but whom? I want to talk to GG and Gram, but not now, I want to see if I can find out on my own like Noah thinks I can.
Hannah is putting a sale sign outside her store. We exchange hellos and I tell her I’m interviewing psychics in town for Noah’s article. She tells me her family’s never met Marshall Greenstreet. We talk for a moment about the wonder of the children’s angel sightings. Her eyes seems to shine a little more as I ask her, “Hannah, since the children have seen angels, I wonder if I could ask you a question about your book, The Town with the Angel Vibe?”
Hannah gets a far away look to her eyes and I wish I hadn’t asked so I say, “I don’t want to pry.”
“No, go ahead, Maggie. Ask away.” She seems sincere and so I just say what I’m thinking.
You wrote all those lovely stories in college. Did you ever see angels yourself in dreams, perhaps because I had a dream just a few months ago? In the dream an angel told me to move home again to Mystic Bay. I wondered if you had that experience too?”
Hannah looks at me, her eyes reflecting that beautiful light again, and something else too. There’s relief there and in her whole demeanor now. “Yes, only my family knows this. But yes, I saw angels as a child, Maggie. I saw lovely angels in my dreams.”
The trees hum near the sidewalk as I say goodbye to Hannah and head toward Tarot & Tea. Wow, Hannah saw angels in dreams. Perhaps many times, I’m sensing. This is a story I wish I could hear more about. My mind goes back to the task at hand, “Help me, God, help me sense if Tina is the one. I open the door to find Jason’s diminutive grandmother, Ethel Marie, in the exact location I always see her. She’s reading for someone and their gray and white heads are together, lost in conversation and cards. They’re sitting at the antique table with two comfortable chairs in the back of the charming store with it’s lovely china and cast iron teapots, and cups from around the world. Different teas line the shelves and there is always a pot brewing for customers. Tina lifts her beautiful blond head when she sees me. “Oh Maggie, I can’t wait for the wedding. I hear Helen is making your maid of honor dress. Did you see it yet?
“Helen went shopping and found something she wants me to see. I’m going over to her house when I have time. She says she found an absolutely gorgeous shocking pink chiffon. She’s in heaven since you know how she loves pink. Really, it’s so kind of her.” Tina comes over to me and gives me a hug. She holds my hands and steps back, looking at me.
“And I hear you have a handsome new beau. What’s he like, Noah, I mean, the young man you’re dating?” Tina looks so beautiful to me. Jason has her soulful brown eyes, her skin, her smile, her high cheekbones. I see Noah in her eyes; they’re his eyes too. Why didn’t I see it before? There was sadness as she said his name.
Her eyes glisten as I tell her. “He’s a great guy, Tina. I’ve never dated anyone like him before. ” She hurriedly changes the subject, offering me the brewed, spiced Rooibos Ruby Red Chai, and I sip it while she helps a tourist select tea. I watch her move across the store almost gliding, mannerisms akin to Sahara’s in the novel, One Psychic Simmer. What could the story be? Did her family know? I know in my heart of hearts they didn’t. But she is still in love with Phil Doherty. Why didn’t they marry? It must have happened while she and Phil weren’t seein
g each other. Phil is twenty years her senior. Does he know? Noah will figure out how to proceed. I buy a Queen Elizabeth English Breakfast tea for GG and Gram. I hug Tina; our goodbyes are filled with excitement for Jenny’s and Jason’s upcoming wedding. Her misty-eyed look follows me out the door. With my psychic understanding I can see her eyes are remembering Marshall Greenstreet, a man she once loved. Her eyes are also remembering Noah, remembering heartbreak. How sad I feel for her, to not know him all these years, the man I’m falling for, Noah Connor Greenstreet, her son.
17
The Rose
I’m walking fast towards home down Moon Road. My tears fall like raindrops. As I left Tina’s store, my heart ached for Noah and for Tina. Why wouldn’t Marshall tell him the truth? Why keep it from him? I need to go to the back yard to my tree and think about how to tell him. What words will be best. “Tina Beaujolais is your mother, Noah. She is so sad.” No, that’s not the way to say it, but how? How will I tell him? I must find the gentlest of words.
The door is closed to the parlor with an “In -Session” sign on it. A car is parked out front. I head out the kitchen to the yard. GG seems asleep in the bench glider, King’s head upon her lap as usual. But is she sleeping? I panic for a moment running to her. King gets up, bewildered. But GG lifts her curly white head; her sunglasses reflect the sunshine like Mr. B’s sunglasses do.
“Hello, Maggie Joy. What is it? What’s wrong?” I get on my knees, my head in her lap like King would do.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Oh dear, this old lady’s not going anywhere. Not today anyway,” she assures me, petting my head.
Looking up at my wise and witty great grandmother, I finally smile. “I’m not done with you yet GG.”
“Darling,” she laughs, “ I was just thinking about it while looking at our beautiful roses. We’ll all meet you one day, your Great Grandpa Joe, Gram and me. We’ll meet you a long time from now in the center of a lovely rose. We’ll take in the fragrant beauty together…that’s how I see parts of heaven.”
“That’s so beautiful, GG. You always have such lovely words for me to ponder. I have to tell you though, he came to me, Great Grandpa Joe; he came last night in a dream. He was smoking a cigar and he had on his brown suit and bow tie, looking like he was about fifty. He said, “Forgive them.” I know he was speaking of Lyla and my father. I’ve decided I need to call her by her legal name now. And whoever my father is, well, I forgive him too. I guess it doesn’t really matter, for I have a good life without them.”
“Oh, what a wise man my Joe always was. We must forgive others for our own soul. I needed to hear that today; I’ve been so distraught about it for so long. We can’t control others’ behavior but we can learn from them. Your mother was troubled then. I fear she may be troubled still. Perhaps we should write her another letter, telling her we will always love her and miss her. It’s been too long since we tried and you know how your Gram stuffs in down deep, but the reality is, her heart aches for her. Maybe that could help her. Marilyn is so hurt she won’t talk about it anymore. Yet, you are her shining light, and mine. Life includes sadness, Maggie, like falling raindrops, but between those raindrops there’s always light and space and beautiful times…look at all we have. We have each other.” She looks down at King. “And we have our animal companions who give us so much. And now the angels are calling…and you will sing that beautiful song for them! It’s a sign for us to remember the life we have been given. So let’s try to reach out to Lyla. The time is nigh.”
“Yes, GG. I’ll write her a letter myself. Noah said if I need it, he could get her address from people he knows in the entertainment business. It’s time. I’m a grown woman. If she doesn’t answer back, then we’ll have tried, at least. I do feel forgiveness now. I didn’t realize before how much anger and fear I had. Great Grandpa Joe came to me in a dream to help me find the answers that were always there.”
I sit by GG now and hold her hand. King finds a place to settle under the tree, its hum brings a lullaby now. GG’s eyes close. She’s napping again. In my letter to Lyla, I’ll ask if she’ll come see us or perhaps we’ll meet her somewhere, to put closure on this for me, for GG, and especially for Gram. I realize now if she has problems, like GG feels, then she’s coping with life the only way she can. Maybe she didn’t want to live in a psychic town. Maybe she didn’t want to be the different one in the house. Maybe she didn’t want to have children and feel trapped. Maybe, maybe. What are the answers? They’re her answers, not mine.
The seaside sky will soon appear orange as the sun starts it’s climb down to the sea, signaling my time to go to work. My cell rings, interrupting the quiet moment. Picking my cell up, GG lifts her head and remarks, “There’s been another sighting… angels have called another precious child.”
After I’ve listened to Hannah’s message, I smile at GG. “Yes, GG, you’re so right. This time a boy with a visual impairment has had a dream; the angels have given him a song for him to play on a piano for us. He says it’s a song for the world!”
Gram comes out of the house, down the back steps to us, and sits on the bench glider by GG. “What’s happened? I tell her the news. Gram puts her hand on my shoulder. “Wow, this is remarkable, really. Oh, angels, how I’ve always loved them. I’ve always wished to see one. But now children are seeing them and angels have sent us a song!”
“Gram, Great Grandpa Joe came to me in a dream last night. His message said, “Forgive them.” He meant I was to forgive Polly Ann and my father. I’m going to write Polly Ann but address her as Lyla because she has chosen to change her name. With your blessing, I will write her a letter. I will ask her to please reconnect with us, if only by letter if she wants. What do you think?”
Gram gets a look in her eyes, a look I saw in Tina’s eyes. It’s that look of heartbreak, so hard to see. “Yes, Maggie. Do it. We must move on and contact her again. Yes, it’s time.”
I hug my grandmother and great Grandmother, knowing I can’t tell them about Tina and the miracle of Noah’s dog finding her letter. Also, I can’t tell them about the starry eyes of our friends or the sounds of wings. I know my perception is growing stronger or else I’m going absolutely bananas. In my mind I picture the eyes lit with star shine. And then I picture the most lovely thought of heaven I’ve imagined, meeting those you love who have passed away; meeting them in the center of a beautiful rose.
18
The Wiley Ways Return
The angels must be working overtime, because I open the front door to leave for work and standing there are Jamie Bond and Tim Thayer, quite the unlikely pair. I introduce them, but the always polite and distinguished Tim Thayer says, “We’ve just met at the door, thank you, Maggie. I’ve assured Mr. Bond here that King will not hurt him; however, he prefers to stay here on the front porch.”
I call to Gram and she comes and greets Tim and Jamie. Jamie looks somehow put together in a clean tee shirt and jeans and remarks, “Uh ladies, you look different. You looked like witches before.”
“Young man,” exclaims Tim, “these are the loveliest ladies in all of Mystic Bay.” Tim is being extremely nice, even though I can tell he finds Jamie’s remark apprehensible.
“Sorry, I meant, you look better.”
But dear Gram pipes in, ignoring Jamie’s remark. “Oh Tim, this is the young man I was telling you about who needs a job. I think he would be a wonderful asset to any business.” Tim looks Jamie over with a wry eye. “Hmm, really.”
Jamie blurts out. “Yeah, these ladies with the scary dogs and cat made me see the light. I mean they’re giving me money, but that’s what I came about. I feel bad taking your money. Like, you guys are old and your daughter here’s a spinster, Elena says. You gotta be hurting if you have to hold séance’s and stuff. I don’t need the money. I applied at GoMart in Riverton and a couple of gas stations. I got my unemployment check coming in so when I get a job, I’ll be able to help with Emma Rose. I don’t wa
nt that big ole angel flying to my apartment with that dog and freaking me out. So, like I said, thanks, but no thanks. Can I keep the money you gave me though ‘cause I already spent every friggin’ dollar? Sorry.”
I don’t want to be late for work but can’t help staying. I put my hand over my mouth trying to hide the smile. Tim looks astonished as I think he’s never witnessed the results of two psychic ladies’ wiles in action. He arches an eyebrow.
Gram bursts with enthusiasm. “Oh Jamie, I am so happy for you. You are really doing such a good job!” She gives him a hug. “Yes, I’m glad the money came in handy, and no, King won’t come now, although he was really missing you.”
Jamie looks like he wants to run but stays put. And then the strangest thing happens. In all my years, my ears never thought they’d hear Tim Thayer say, “Why, young man, I run the Farmers’ Market every Saturday and Sunday behind my store, Mystic Bay Cheese and Wine. It’s on Sea Scallop Lane. You need a job? Why, I could use a young man with a lot of energy to help with the loading and unloading from the trucks. Starts at eleven an hour. I could use your help, if you’re interested in hard work, that is,” Tim offered.