It was a simple dream, but one Lorna had carried in her heart. If she were honest with herself, she never took the time to consider if that was what she’d wanted out of life. Getting married, having children, and growing old was what the women in her family had always done. Her great-grandmother had been ninety-five when she died, and her grandmother eighty-seven. Her mother, still alive, was seventy-four. Judging by family history, she’d always expected to outlive her husband. Only, she hadn’t expected to survive him so soon.
“Honestly, I would have said we had a good marriage before the end. It was only afterward that I discovered he had a second family,” Lorna admitted.
“I’m so sorry,” Heather said.
“I say we resurrect him and kick him in the balls,” Vivien proposed. “You deserve an explanation and an apology.”
For some reason, she found it easy to tell the story to Heather and Vivien. They didn’t look at her in judgment. Their eyes didn’t hold the accusation that she should have known. If anything, they appeared angry on her behalf.
“Actually, correction. We were the second family, not her,” Lorna continued. “He married me second, which meant the first wife—the true wife, that’s what Cheryl referred to herself as when we sat staring at each other across the conference table at the attorney’s office—was his legal heir and had been entitled to everything.”
“She came after your assets?” Vivien’s brow furrowed.
Lorna nodded. “It was a mess. The police were called, but they determined quickly they couldn’t do much since the polygamist was dead and there was no one to arrest. Then the probate court became involved. They wanted documents proving my belongings were mine. They dug through tax returns, and deeds, and... everything. The judge put little value in raising children when it came down to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it came out later that Cheryl bribed him. He seemed to think it was my fault I was the mistress whore with three…” Lorna choked back a tear. “Three illegitimate kids. That’s what her lawyer called my babies.”
“You weren’t a mistress,” Vivien stated firmly.
“You were married,” Heather agreed. “You did nothing wrong. You entered into the union with the purest of intentions. Forget what the judge said, or that other woman and her asshole lawyer.”
“What happened next?” Vivien prompted.
“It took time to untangle the web of lies. I couldn’t afford the attorney it would take to try the case, and honestly, I didn’t want more publicity. Cheryl didn’t seem to mind it. She went on every newscast she could and painted herself as the victim, which made me one of the villains. She dragged her feet and made every step of the process excruciatingly long. I think she secretly wanted me to fight her in court. I even heard rumors she was shopping around for a book deal.”
“You can bet none of us will be buying her crappy book,” Vivien mumbled.
“When the dust settled, I found myself standing in the home that had been in my husband’s name, with an eviction notice by the true wife.” Lorna took a deep breath. “I had a yard sale, sold everything I could. Luckily, I had managed to pull money out of our joint accounts before Cheryl did her giant assets grab. After the eviction, I stayed with family, worked as a waitress, and saved up what I could with the knowledge that I wanted to leave Vermont and start my life over. Every friend and family member kept looking at me with such pity it was impossible to forget for even a moment what had happened. It’s all anyone wanted to talk about.”
“What about your children?” Heather lightly pushed a lock of Lorna’s hair over her shoulder, careful not to make contact with her skin.
“They’re angry. At first it was at me for not knowing. I think they felt too guilty about being angry at their father since he was dead, but it’s getting better with time. They worry about me. The twins are in college. Jacob wanted to drop out and move back to help me. I wouldn’t let him. Thankfully, the college funds were in their names and Cheryl couldn’t touch them. Nicholas is living with a girlfriend.”
“How did you come to pick this place?” Vivien reached for the bottle and poured more wine. The effects of liquor were beginning to show in her eyes but she held herself well.
“I was going through boxes looking for things I could sell and came across a picture of the beach that we’d taken on vacation. I remembered always wanting to come back to this town. The online job posting for a theater manager with room and board felt like a sign. I took all my cash, packed a couple of bags, hopped on a bus, and came here. Freewild Cove is my new start, my second chance at creating a life for myself.”
“Freewild Cove and William,” Vivien said with a small smile.
“He is pretty cute.” Lorna wasn’t sure what made her admit as much. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
Heather turned back to the book on her lap and flipped through more pages. “Where were we?”
“Trying to decide if we hold hands or not,” Vivien answered. “I still say yes. There’s only one way to find out what happens and I want magic powers.”
“And I still say we think before we leap,” Heather said.
“Lorna?” Vivien asked.
“I’m still on the fence, wavering between scaredy-cat and what-the-hell-are-we-doing,” Lorna admitted. “A week ago I wouldn’t have thought psychic finding abilities were a real thing, and now…”
She gestured at the book. How could she deny something supernatural was happening here? There was no other explanation for how she could have known to reach between two curtains, to a hidden lever that opened up the floor, to discover a lost altar and mysterious séance book that had been hidden away for over half a century.
Heather set the open book on the oval coffee table.
Lorna leaned forward to study it. She turned through several of the pages. Were all of these names real ghosts that Julia had contacted? Was it genuine, or a spiritualist scam? She’d seen scary movies with fake mediums in them before. She wanted to believe there was more out there. She wanted to believe her new friends weren’t certifiable. Most of all, she wanted to trust what she was feeling.
She ran her index finger along the edge of the pages and imagined she felt the hum of power inside the words. She flipped it open to one of the back pages. A drawing of a plant illustrated a page on how to make a smudging stick with sage and lavender. “It’s not all séances.” Lorna turned to the next page to find candle making directions. “There’s craft instructions in here too.”
“What are we meant to do with this?” Vivien asked.
“Sell homemade candles?” Lorna suggested, not really serious.
Vivien didn’t laugh. “I meant with the séances. Do you think we need to write who we want to contact down in the ledger and then they appear?” She reached for the wine bottle for another refill. “I wish we could find an instruction manual.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Lorna closed the book and moved her finger an inch down the width of the book and then reopened it by turning several pages at once. Vivien pushed upon her knees to get a better look at the page Lorna had chosen. Heather leaned forward. On the page was an illustration of the book cover with three hands resting flat on top, touching to form a triangle over the symbols. Each hand had a ring that matched theirs. Images of lit candles were drawn in the corners of the page.
“Do you feel that?” Vivien whispered. “The temperature just dropped.”
The curtains fluttered, and they all gasped, turning toward the noise. The window wasn’t open and yet the material blew into the room like it was.
“Grandma?” Heather asked. “Is that you?”
They waited, listening and watching. The curtains settled. The apartment lights flickered before going out.
“Is it Julia?” Vivien asked.
“I don’t hear her,” Heather said. “Maybe the air conditioner kicked on and blew a fuse.”
“I don’t like this,” Lorna whispered into the darkness. Streetlights from outside should have made it
easier to see but it felt like something blocked the light from entering the apartment. She gave a nervous laugh. “I think I’m starting to freak myself out.”
Lorna reached to the side table and fumbled for a candle lighter. Finding it, she pulled the trigger and lit the flame, instantly bringing it to a candlewick.
“Do you have a flash—” Heather began, only to be cut off when the candle flame ignited.
As the fire burst over the wick, every candle in the apartment lit itself to cast the room in a soft glow.
“—light,” Heather finished weakly.
Lorna peered at the candles and had the distinct feeling they were no longer alone. The air had a heaviness to it, pressing down on them.
“Flashlight?” Heather repeated.
“Apothecary cabinet,” Lorna answered, not getting up to retrieve her emergency flashlight. Her heart beat fast and she wasn’t sure she could move from the couch. The trembling in her limbs made it impossible to stand. “Bottom left corner drawer.”
“I’ll get it.” Vivien hurried across the room.
Lorna moved the candle she’d lit next to the book. She slowly turned the page and found paragraphs of handwritten text unlike the séance lists that came before. She silently read, “Spirits tethered to this plane we humbly seek your guidance. Spirits search amongst your numbers for a lost child, we call forth…” A blank space was left between the words. “…from the great beyond.”
Vivien had asked for instructions and it looked like Lorna had found them. Her eyes moved to the next section.
“Spirits tethered to this plane we command you to join us…”
And to the next section.
“We open the door between two worlds to call forth the spirit of…” Another blank spot. “Come back from the grave so that we may hear. Come back from the grave and show yourself to us so that all may see. Come back from the grave and answer for what you have done so that you may be judged.”
And still the next.
“Beings tethered to this plane, full of rage and filled with pain. We call you to come near. We call you to face what you fear. We call you to your eternal hell. Pay the price with this final knell.”
“What do you both make of this?” Heather asked.
Lorna rubbed her arms and reached for her drink. “It’s pretty heavy stuff.”
“Let me see.” Vivien produced a pair of reading glasses from her purse on the floor. She sat next to Lorna on the couch, forcing her to slide over to make room, and then shone the flashlight at the coffee table to make it easier to see.
The next entry on the page read, “Spirit you have been found pure. We release you into the light. Go in peace and love.”
Vivien placed her hand on the page, blocking Lorna from reading more. “We can use these to call spirits. We should hold a séance.”
“And talk to who?” Heather asked.
“Julia? We know she’s here,” Vivien suggested. “She could tell us why she gave us the rings and how all of this works.”
“I don’t see her around,” Heather said. “I’m starting to get the impression that she’s avoiding me.”
“All the more reason to call her up on the psychic telephone,” Vivien said.
“I don’t know if we should until we know what we’re doing. There has to be a price that comes from meddling.” Heather brushed Vivien’s hand aside, only making brief contact. She turned the page as if to continue reading. “Some things are better left alone.”
“Heather, don’t you see what this means? This proves we were right. There is magic in the world. I can talk to Sam,” Vivien said, her voice a little breathless. “I would give anything to see him again, to hear him. Julia said we were brought together to heal each other’s pain. Maybe this is how we do that.”
Lorna always wanted to ask Glenn why he’d done it. Now she could. All she had to do was believe in the signs she’d been experiencing since Vivien had first introduced herself.
“Heather? Don’t you want to see Travis?” Vivien persisted. “You said that he never came to you after his… after.”
Heather looked as if someone had just tried to hit her with a car. She covered her mouth with her hand. Moisture gathered in her eyes.
The wind kicked up again, blowing from the closed window. The candles flickered. A gust hit all three of them, swirling around the apartment to come from multiple directions. Hair whipped around Lorna’s head, lashing her face and stinging her with each tiny pelt. It blocked her eyes so she couldn’t see. Next to her she felt Vivien and Heather struggling against the unseen force. Heather’s elbow bumped Lorna’s cheek.
“What the hell,” Vivien swore.
The wind stopped. Lorna managed to push the hair out of her face. All the candles were out. Vivien shone the flashlight around the room to look for clues.
“The book!” Heather snatched the book from the table and began shaking it. Red droplets rained from within.
Vivien’s wine glass had tipped over onto the pages and spilled across the coffee table to drip on the rug. Lorna hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a dry towel. Vivien shone the light after her to help.
“Here.” Lorna held the towel and blotted at the book before attending to her rug and coffee table.
“How is it?” Vivien picked up her reading glasses from the floor where they must have fallen.
“Some of the ink is smeared,” Heather answered.
“Leave it open and set it on the counter to dry,” Vivien said. “We might be able to save the pages.”
“What was that?” Lorna asked. “Where did that wind come from?”
“Maybe the three of us were sitting too close,” Vivien suggested, though her tone lacked conviction. “It’s like when we touch. Maybe we bumped each other or something.”
“Maybe.” Heather also sounded doubtful as she placed the book on the kitchen counter. “I’m going to check the fuse box.”
Lorna dropped the wet towel in the kitchen sink before nervously moving over to the window. Her hand trembled as she touched the curtains that had been blowing. They were much cooler than the rest of the room. Pushing them aside, she looked to the street below.
William’s truck was back, parked across the street, but she couldn’t see him inside the cab. She glanced down the sidewalk. A couple came out of the Chinese restaurant and walked in the opposite direction.
“Do you see anything?” Vivien asked.
“William’s truck is back,” Lorna answered, “but I don’t see him.”
The lights came on. Heather closed the fuse box on the wall with a decisive metal clang. Vivien turned off the flashlight but didn’t set it down.
“That was weird.” Heather crossed the room toward them. “I think maybe I’ve had too much to drink. I usually don’t spook this easily.”
“You wouldn’t be the only one.” Lorna again peered down at the street. What was William doing back?
Shadows and darkness had a way of inspiring dread. The apartment didn’t feel as scary with the lights on.
“We need food to soak up the alcohol,” Vivien decided.
“Can we raid your fridge?” Heather asked.
“Yeah, but if you find food, I really will believe in magic. I haven’t been to the grocery store,” Lorna answered. “Shopping day is tomorrow or today? What time is it anyway?”
Heather peered inside, only to announce, “We have coffee creamer and green pepper jelly.”
“Oh, I got an idea.” Vivien grabbed her phone and dialed. It wasn’t long before she received an answer. “Hey, William, I have a very important favor to ask.” She paused, but Lorna couldn’t hear what he was saying on the other end. “No. I don’t need bail money again but thanks for reminding me of that. I need you to stop pining all lovesick outside of Lorna’s apartment like a stalker, and run down the street to pick us up some sesame chicken, and—” She directed a childish expression at the phone. “Oh, good, see, you’re already there. Perfect. And yes, we may be a little drun
k. Thanks for the sex wine, by the way. Now listen. This is important. Sesame chicken, broccoli and beef, sweet and sour shrimp, ginger chicken, um…”
When Vivien glanced at her, Lorna said, “Crab Rangoon?”
“Crab Rangoon.” Vivien glanced at Heather.
“Pork dumplings,” Heather added. “Chitterlings.”
“Pork dumplings,” Vivien repeated, “and… what is a chitterling?” William must have answered because Vivien scrunched up her face and shook her head. “Oh, hell, no. Just add a bunch of fried rice and fortune cookies and whatever else looks good. We are starving. Thanks, Will, you’re a lifesaver, use your key to get in and bring it up.”
Vivien quickly ended the call without giving William enough time to refuse.
“Chitterling? Seriously?” Vivien shook her head at Heather. “What is wrong with you?”
“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Heather quipped.
“Oh, I’m knocking, and I’m definitely not trying.” Vivien gave a light shiver to prove her disgust.
“We don’t have to make him bring us all of that. I can run across and grab our order,” Lorna offered.
“He’ll be fine. Trust me. This will be the most excitement he’s had in a month,” Vivien dismissed. “Plus, I think he’s happy for an excuse to come over.” She winked at Lorna.
“What about…?” Heather began.
They all turned in unison to the book.
“I think we should try it.” Vivien took a roll of paper towels from the counter. She tore off a square and placed it on the damp page before closing the book. Then going to Lorna’s kitchen table, she pushed aside a decorative bowl with balls of twine to set the book down. She rested her hand on the cover. “Before William gets here. That way, we’ll have help on the way if anything weird happens. And if nothing happens, we’ll all have a good laugh about it.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Heather said. “We should put it back where we found it and forget we ever saw it.”
“Heather, please,” Vivien pleaded. “I miss Sam so much. If there is a chance that I can see him again, I have to try.”
Without removing her hand from the book, Vivien took a seat. Her ring laid close to the matching symbol on the cover.
Second Chance Magic Page 8