by Jeane Watier
SOUL MATES
By JEANE WATIER
Copyright © 2013 by Jeane Watier
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Watier, Jeane, 1963-
Soul Mates / Jeane Watier.
ISBN 978-0-9877179-5-5
I. Title.
PS8645.A846S68 2013 C813’.6 C2013-900701-6
All characters, events, and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by: Novel Ink, Calgary, AB www.novel-ink.com
Cover design and layout by: Serenity Design Concepts
For more information on this book and other books by Jeane Watier go to: www.jeanewatier.com
Dedication
While the story is a product of my active imagination, the truths contained in this book are based on the teachings of Abraham, channelled by Esther Hicks. It is my desire to share the understanding that I have gained from Abraham, and point others to the wonderful nonphysical teacher that I have come to know and love.
www.abraham-hicks.com
Thank you, Esther, for allowing Abraham (and now Jerry) to speak through you, addressing the questions on so many minds, for helping us stand on the leading edge with confidence and knowing, for preparing us to be the teachers and uplifters we came here to be.
Continuing thanks to my husband, Ron, and many friends and family members whose love and support means more to me than words can convey.
Jeane Watier
CHAPTER 1
JACE CLIMBED the steps to his apartment building, his arms full of groceries. Shifting the bags awkwardly, he pulled open the front door as Chad called out his name. Jace turned to see his friend crossing the street toward him.
“Hey, buddy,” Chad grinned. “You’re gonna love me.”
“In your dreams,” Jace retorted absently, holding the door with his foot while he readjusted his load.
“You’re gonna bow down and worship me.”
“Do you mind helping me?” Jace asked, ignoring the last comment. A bag was slipping, and he hoped it wasn’t the one with the eggs.
Chad caught it before it fell, then followed Jace up two flights of stairs. In his apartment, Jace set the groceries on the counter and took the third bag from his friend. Finally his curiosity got the better of him. “Okay, what is it? What’s so great?”
“I got us tickets for tomorrow night’s game.”
“Seriously?” Jace beamed. “How’d you score those? I heard people were paying as much as five hundred bucks for playoff tickets.”
“Carla’s dad,” Chad replied matter-of-factly as he helped himself to a beer from Jace’s refrigerator. “A guy he works with owed him a favor or something. Her dad was planning to go, but he was called out of town at the last minute.”
“Sweet.”
“I’m gonna need cash up front, though.”
“What?” Jace grimaced, suddenly knowing it was too good to be true. “How much?”
“They were a steal—a hundred bucks apiece. Said he had people offering him two.”
“I don’t know, man,” Jace sighed. “I’m tapped out till payday.”
“You can’t be serious!” Chad exclaimed. “I mean, I can sell your ticket easy and make a tidy profit, but you don’t want to miss this. If they win tonight, tomorrow night’s game could be the final. We’d have prime seats.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Jace couldn’t hide his frustration.
“Hey, chill. Just get a payday loan. It’s easy.”
Easy for you, Jace vented silently. Your parents bail you out every time you get in over your head. As he turned away, pretending to arrange items in the fridge, he exhaled heavily. He didn’t like feeling jealous. It wasn’t Chad’s fault. Life had thrown Jace unexpected curves. His parents had spent all their savings when his dad was sick, and Jace had had to quit school. Now that his dad was gone, his mom lived on a meager income. Jace helped her as much as he could; he couldn’t stand to see her do without. But it meant he didn’t have money for extras, and his debt was starting to escalate. His bank account was overdrawn. The groceries he was putting away had been bought on credit.
He did his best to ignore the growing anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He hated being broke. He was tired of living paycheck to paycheck and going deeper into debt every month. He had big dreams, but lately he hadn’t let himself think about them, they were too unrealistic.
Jace had never hidden his circumstances from Chad. They’d been friends since childhood. Nevertheless, Chad didn’t understand. He couldn’t relate to the financial bondage, the ever-increasing weight on Jace’s shoulders.
As his friend stood waiting for a response, Jace knew what he needed to do. Like it or not, it was the responsible thing to do. He turned down the ticket.
“Okay, pal. Whatever,” Chad shrugged. “You still coming by to watch the game tonight?”
“Yeah,” Jace nodded, feeling defeated. “See you later.”
After Chad left, Jace finished putting the groceries away. He opened a beer for himself and paced back and forth in his small kitchen, trying to justify his decision. I can always watch the game on TV. The crowds would be nuts, anyway. If they win, it’ll be pandemonium in the stadium, and if they lose, there’ll be thousands of disgruntled fans.
It was no use. No amount of justifying would ease his frustration and disappointment. He wanted to go. It wasn’t simply the chance to see the big game live; it was much more than that. It represented all that he wanted in life, all that seemed to be just beyond reach.
Suddenly frustration turned to anger. “Damn it!” He slammed his fist down on the counter. “I deserve to go. I work hard, and what the hell do I have to show for it?” The anger edged him on, challenging him to action. “What’s a little more debt?” he sighed, knowing he’d probably regret his decision. Before he could change his mind, he grabbed the phone and dialed Chad’s cell, hoping it wasn’t too late.
CASSANDRA TURNED to her friend, beaming. “They’re absolutely perfect! I wanted a pair in this color. They’ll match the dress I bought in Paris last month. I haven’t worn it yet because none of my shoes were just right.”
“They’re fabulous,” Tanisha agreed. “Why don’t you wear the dress to the club, Friday? Wow all the guys and make Nick jealous.”
“I don’t want to make him jealous. We’re done. I don’t want anything to do with him. I was the one who broke up with him. Remember?”
“Yes, because he’s a lying, cheating son of a bitch,” Tanisha pointed out.
“Thanks for reminding me.”
“That’s why you need to show up looking like a million bucks and flirt with everyone but him,” Tanisha insisted. “He’ll realize what he lost—maybe even come crawling back to you, sniveling and apologetic. You’ll have the satisfaction of blowing him off in front of his friends.”
“As appealing as that sounds,” Cassandra responded dryly, “I think I’ll pass.” She was angry with Nick; he’d hurt her deeply, but revenge wasn’t her style. Neither was going to the club to flirt. None of the guys there interested her. She was tired of the dating scene. All men were alike, it seemed—at least the ones she’d met. Rich, handsome, successful yet so into themselves, their money, and their toys that they had no room for anyone else in their lives.
“I’m thinking about getting away this weekend,” Cassandra informed her friend
. “It’s been months since I’ve been home. A quiet, relaxing weekend in Port Hayden would do me a world of good.”
“Your parents are still there? I thought they’d be at the summer house already.”
“No, they haven’t left yet. I talked to my dad last weekend. He sounded worried about Aunt Sophia.”
“Is she sick?”
“Apparently she blacked out, and someone took her to the hospital. She wasn’t admitted, though, and she claims she’s okay now. The woman is eighty-seven and still living on her own. Daddy wants her to move in with them, but Mother says she’d be better off in a care home. The problem is, Aunt Sophia doesn’t want to move; she’s very strong willed.”
“She’s always been eccentric, too, hasn’t she? Wasn’t she married to a Count?”
“He was a British Lord. I never really knew him; he died when I was young. You’re right, though. She’s always been a little different. Ahead of her time, really. Drove her own car at fifteen. Got her pilot’s license when she was twenty-one. She was an activist, too, marching in political demonstrations, joining hunger strikes. She even went to jail once.”
“Really?”
“Just overnight, but it caused quite a stir in the social circles. Lady Sophia Langdon in jail!” Cassandra smiled at the thought. Her aunt was one of the wealthiest women in Port Hayden, yet you wouldn’t know it to look at her. She lived in an older apartment building in the city’s eclectic downtown core, and although she’d driven a car for most of her life, now insisted on walking or taking public transit. The family had tried to persuade her to hire a driver, but she’d scoffed at the idea. Cassandra didn’t know whether it was a dislike for money or simply what money stood for that caused her to live the way she did. She had to admit, however, that her aunt seemed genuinely happy.
Cassandra couldn’t imagine not enjoying the comforts money provided. She’d always had all a girl could want. Growing up in a city that was home to some of the oldest wealth on the East Coast, she’d gone to private schools, spent summers at the beach, traveled, ate, and shopped as her heart desired.
Her mother’s life was a minuet, an elegant social dance, complete with fashionable charity work, endless society functions, and the responsibility of running a large household with servants. Her father, a powerful and well-respected man, sat at the helm of a multinational corporation, a company his grandfather had single-handedly built after emigrating from Europe and settling in what was now Port Hayden.
Cassandra had opted for a career, as did the majority of women her age. For most, it was about status. It gave the older generation something to brag about, something with which to compare their children. For Cassandra, it was about passion. She’d always loved writing. Once she got her journalism degree, she’d set her sights on one of the biggest magazines in the country. Her father had used his influence to get her the job, but her talent and zeal were responsible for her advancement in the company. She’d worked hard to prove herself. Now she was an assistant editor and loving it.
She paid for her shoes, and the two women began to walk. It was a beautiful evening. They were headed to their favorite French restaurant to meet several other friends. Cassandra couldn’t wait to show off her purchase, yet her happiness went beyond her fashion acquisition. Breathing deeply, she was filled with the awareness that life was very good—something she had taken for granted for twenty-six years. As she consciously acknowledged the fact, it occurred to her that she was glad Nick Hagen was no longer in her life. Breaking up with him had been long overdue. I don’t need him—or any man, for that matter—to complete me. The thought was liberating. Having no desire to get into another relationship anytime soon, Cassandra was at a pivotal place in her life. It was time to discover what she really wanted, maybe set new goals. A weekend in Port Hayden would be the perfect opportunity to begin doing just that.
JACE ATTEMPTED to quiet the discordant thoughts. As he focused on chores that needed doing, he tried to get excited about the game. I should be thankful. This is an opportunity that doesn’t come around every day. Besides, a hundred bucks is hardly a reason to get bent out of shape.
He bagged some garbage and took it to the trash bin. As he returned, he had to move to one side of the narrow stairwell to allow a woman to pass. Recognizing the old lady who lived on the top floor, he greeted her politely. He was about to continue up the stairs when she placed a small, wrinkled hand on his arm
“You can have anything you want, you know.”
“Excuse me?”
“You think life is dealing you a bad hand. It’s not. You get to choose. It’s up to you.”
He stared at her, not quite sure what to do. She seemed like a sweet little old lady, reminding him of his grandmother whose mind had started to fail the year before she passed away. As he debated whether to say something or simply smile and nod, she took her hand off his arm and turned to go down the stairs.
“It’s a nice evening for a walk.”
Jace returned to his apartment, feeling uneasy. He’d assumed that she was confused, that she’d mistaken him for someone else. Yet, as he replayed her words, he sensed they were meant for him. It’s a coincidence, that’s all, he assured himself. I must remind her of a grandson or a nephew—someone who looks like me, who’s going through a hard time.
Regardless of who her advice was meant for, it affected Jace deeply. I can have anything I want? I get to choose? I wish that were true, he sighed.
His mind drifted to dreams he’d once held of being a commercial pilot. As a young boy, his walls had been covered with posters of airplanes. Model planes sat on his desk and hung from his ceiling. He’d held to that dream through high school and wasn’t daunted when his parents persuaded him to get a business degree at the local college—something to fall back on if he didn’t make it as a pilot, they said.
He’d given in to their wishes. They were, after all, paying for his education. When his father had gotten sick during Jace’s first year of college and their insurance covered little of the cost, Jace had dropped out to work full time so he could help with the bills. That was six years ago. Since then he’d kept his dreams carefully tucked away. Now he realized why. They were painful. When he looked at them, all he could see was the huge crevasse between the dream and the reality he lived in.
Jace quickly finished his tasks, grabbed a six pack from the fridge, and headed to Chad’s to watch the game. As he descended the front steps of his building, the old woman’s words remained etched in his mind. They may have been meant to comfort someone else, yet they taunted him, reminding him he wasn’t living the life he wanted.
As if events were conspiring to torture him further, a plane went by overhead. It appeared to be making its descent toward the local airport, though not on a usual flight path. Jace watched intently as the landing gear was deployed and the wing flaps were lowered to slow the plane as it neared the ground. He stood a moment longer, paying tribute to the dreams of his childhood. Then he turned resolutely and walked away, not only from the sight of the plane but from the dream of ever flying one.
CHAPTER 2
CASSANDRA BUCKLED her seatbelt and put her chair-back in the upright position. Looking around her in first class, she smiled at Mrs. Charlebois who was returning from visiting her daughter in California. Two seats ahead were Mr. and Mrs. Edmonds. They had been touring Europe for several months. The Davises were on the flight as well.
The social circle in Port Hayden was small but elite. Not much happened that everyone didn’t know about. Cassandra’s mother was always up to date on gossip and had filled her in on the phone the evening before.
As Cassandra rode the escalator down to the meeting area, her eyes scanned the small airport. Not much had changed in the eight years since she’d moved away. The routine was the same every time she came home. She smiled warmly at the man who had been the family’s chauffeur for as long as she could remember.
“Good evening, Miss Cassandra.” Wallace reached to take her sh
oulder bag. “Did you have a good flight?”
“Yes, Wallace, thank you,” she replied as she accompanied him to the car. A porter followed and placed her Louis Vuitton in the trunk of the vintage Rolls Royce.
They chatted as they made their way to the Town House, so named to distinguish it from their summer home at Walden Beach. Her grandfather had had the house built nearly seventy-five years earlier. He was one of the first to settle in the Port Hayden area, and he’d chosen the nicest piece of real estate available. The family home sat high on a rocky hillside overlooking the town and the port itself. From the dormer window in her bedroom, Cassandra had spent many contented hours watching fishing boats coming into the harbor and sailboats and yachts setting out to navigate the islands off the jagged coast.
They rounded the last curve on the driveway, and Cassandra smiled as the house came into view. It was a four thousand square-foot, two story, chateau-style house with seven bedrooms and as many bathrooms. The manicured grounds were expansive. When she was younger, she’d loved roaming the property with the dogs by her side.
No sooner had they come to mind, when two Great Danes trotted up to meet the car. Cassandra laughed as she reached to embrace the old dogs. Nearly twelve, they looked as strong and healthy as ever. They were pure steel blue in color and stood thirty inches at the shoulders. “Hello, Samson,” she cooed. “Hello, my lovely Delilah.” After reuniting with the gentle giants, she heard barking in the distance and watched a younger dog bound toward them. Her father had kept one of Delilah’s last pups. Marrakesh had grown considerably since Cassandra had been home last. At a year old, he stood nearly as tall as his parents, but had yet to fill out. He was already a regal-looking dog.
“Welcome home, darling.” Her mother greeted her as she walked up the marble steps.
“Hello, Mother,” Cassandra smiled, taking in the familiar front entry. It was always good to be home; she felt it every time. It made her question why the lure of the big city and the demands of her job kept her away for such long periods of time.