"There's a lot out there about when a person is born. Lots of folk tales mostly out of Europe about children born at different times…during chime hours, at midnight, or in the twilight between sunset and the dark."
"Aren't chime hours when prayers were said?" Mary interrupted, searching her memory for what she knew of it.
"Yes, but the time of the prayers varies." Her interest was catching. He could still remember his own when he began digging. "But the interesting piece of all this was when I started digging around to determine when each of us was born." He leaned back with his hands folded behind his head. "I was able to find out the time of day Mom and the aunts were born too." He looked at his sister, saw her anticipation, wondered what she would think of his findings. They could amount to nothing depending how you viewed such things. "I never dug into any of the grandparents though it would be interesting."
"Go on," Mary pressed quietly. She could literally feel her heart thumping in her throat and had to let out the breath she'd been holding.
"We, all of us and by that I mean Mom, Aunt Leslie and Aunt Charlie, and all of their children including you and me were born in the late afternoon or early evening." Nodding at her speculative look he continued. "If you take into account the season, the location and so forth, each of us was born in what is referred to as the twilight hours. The time between the setting of the sun and the dark," he elaborated. "Interesting, huh?" He closed his eyes, even now it pulled at him. "How likely is it that so many people in a single family, pretty much everyone in the family, are born in the same pretty limited time frame regardless of where they lived, the time of year, and for that matter daylight savings time?" He opened his eyes and stared hard at his sister. "I don't have a problem with coincidences but this would be stretching that beyond the realm of possibility."
She heard him, could barely believe what she was hearing but she heard him. "Are you sure?" Of course he was sure she realized even as she watched him tilt his head in that way of his and roll his eyes. "Okay. Okay. But what does it mean?"
"It's been said going back thousands of years that children born in the hours of twilight see things others don't. Feel things others don't. Sense things others don't." He watched his sister absorb what he was telling her. Saw the moment she picked up on the piece they'd never discussed. The part of the discussion he was backing into.
"You too?"
"Yeah. And before you ask I have no idea about the others," they both knew he referred specifically to their older brothers. "Even if they have ever experienced anything similar to what we have they'd never admit to it in this life or the next for that matter. I can guarantee you they would be far more comfortable to chalk it off to intuition." He shrugged. "That's what Aunt Charlie sees it as, intuition." He could see Mary thinking it through intently. Decided they'd gone off track long enough. "So beyond getting away from the scrutiny of our family why else did you feel the need to transplant yourself here?"
Mary wasn't surprised by his sharp turn in conversation. It no doubt had a lot to do with why he was such an effective lawyer. She also had no doubt he hoped to catch her off-guard. "Dave, was it any one thing that made you want to move here? Or a number of things none of which you might be able to point to as a main reason? Just that together all those not really significant things began to be bigger and more important than they really were simply because there were so many of them." She shook her head. "That didn't even make much sense to me."
"You made plenty of sense." And her expression and the sadness in her voice told him plenty more. Enough that he decided on the spot to continue this part of the conversation with Daniel who he had no doubt would be more than happy to share with him anything his sister was leaving out, intentionally or otherwise.
"Dave," Mary couldn't shake off what he'd just told her. "Do you believe it?"
He didn't have to ask what she meant, he knew. "I do." He met her gaze so like his own. "I always have even before I understood the why, how, and whatever." He smiled at her, the kindness that had always been such an inherent part of who he was shining through eyes that held patience and understanding. "It's a lot to take in but just keep in mind that nothing has really changed. We're still exactly who we were ten minutes ago. It's just that now you...we have a clearer idea of who we are."
"But why?" And that was the burning question for Mary. In one family why so many with an ability to sense beyond what most could.
Dave leaned back in the chair with his eyes still on hers. It was so like his sister to pin down on the issue that many would shift to the side unless forced to examine it. "Now there's the question that would keep many awake through the night," he teased. At her serious look he splayed his hands palms up over the table in a gesture that spoke clearly of who knows but Mary knew better.
"What do you think the why is?"
"Honestly?"
Mary nodded, sensing it wasn't just important to him but something he'd given a lot of his own thought to.
"I don't have an answer to why so many in one family. Genetics maybe? I just don't know." He shrugged in a way that came off careless, even unconcerned with that aspect of it but in truth it was something he'd put a lot of thought into yet simply hadn't come up with an answer that satisfied him. "But as far as the why us, like each individual us...I think is exactly that. I think it’s up to each one of us whether we treat is as Aunt Charlie does, at least on the surface, as nothing more than an intuitive personality, and feel lucky when we're right."
"Or..." Mary pressed.
"Or we do something with it that does more than give us a lucky shot on the horses or next week's lottery."
Mary unconsciously tilted her head to one side as she studied her brother. He sounded as if it were nothing more than an everyday matter but she sensed something far more beyond the words he spoke. "Like having the sense of knowing who needs to be prodded into counseling instead of a messy divorce, who you convince you need a couple of rooms painted more than the money," when she saw him smile she knew she'd heard right on that one. "And who you bill at full rates despite their claim of impending poverty."
Dave nodded, not in the least surprised by the flow of information in small towns. He absolutely loved it.
"That's why you came here."
"In part," he agreed. "I certainly needed something different but after learning all this it did a lot to gear me in the direction I needed to go in. We can use it to make a difference or we can simply use it. I got tired of the latter." He stood, stretched his legs. He needed to get back to work now that he'd found out most of what he came to find out. He'd check in with Jake as promised then call his brother-in-law later that night for the rest of it. "You know sis, not long before I came up here to help Mark and Jake out with their negotiations I had an elderly client who fell down in her home and had to be hospitalized. She called me from her hospital room and asked that I come visit her. She wanted to tell me what had happened." He caught his sister's questioning look. "She's one of my oldest clients and knew without me saying a whole lot that I was looking for something different, that I had been for a while. Maybe she thought this would give me the impetus to find it. I don't know. But it certainly made me think." He rubbed the back of his neck, it was rare he spoke about any of his clients at all but he needed his sister to understand. And if this didn't do it he honestly didn't know what would. "Apparently one of her daughters had been trying to contact her and when she hadn't answered the phone over a period of time the daughter got worried and then more worried. Enough to call a neighbor and ask them to check in on her mother. The long and the short of it is this wasn't the first time the neighbor had been asked." He gave his sister a look that expressed fully his thoughts on the matter. "Apparently the way he saw it he'd been bothered with this request at least three other times in five years. Because of that he took his time and later was callous enough to complain about it to the paramedics whom he finally got around to calling. From what I heard I don't know if the man was more bot
hered by having to walk two houses down and across the street to check on a neighbor or because he ended up having to call for medical assistance because she was injured just as the daughter was worried about thereby proving her correct and him wrong." He shook his head, still not able to believe the inhumanity of the situation. "I know that kind of attitude can happen anywhere but I could almost see myself becoming that man. Too busy doing nothing of any real consequence. Too caught up in the mundane to be aware of the important things let alone see them. And getting real close to becoming way too self-centered to care about much but myself. No, that wasn't the man I wanted to be." He sighed, not certain where all that had come from but having heard it knew it for the truth. He looked at his sister, saw her concern and worry. "And quite honestly Mary, I missed you."
"Dave..."
He flinched internally when he heard her voice wobble. The workings of the female emotions had never been an area he cared to tread into willingly or otherwise. So he did what he did best according to her. He diverted her attention. "While you're pondering over all this as I know you will," he nodded in the direction of the large pastel rendition of their great-grandmother that some unknown but very talented artist had thankfully done almost one hundred years before. "Consider her place in our newfound knowledge." He watched his sister turn toward the portrait, her expression thoughtful. "Think about all that she left in the attic. Sure there was some stuff no one cared about but there was also generations of irreplaceable family heirlooms." He turned from the portrait to look at his sister. "Why did she feel she could leave it all up there? What did she know?"
"All the furniture in the basement," Mary said softly, thinking of that too.
"Our mother and her sisters, even in their grief, may have had a sense it would be safe until one of their children came for it. In this case, you." He watched his sister purse her lips in a way he hadn't seen in some time. "Once you've satisfied your curiosity about Great-Grandma," he waited for her to turn towards him, pleased to see her eyes bright with speculation. "You might consider that this would make one hell of a book." He gave her a quick hug. "Got to go, got to get back and gouge some more of those poverty leaning derelicts," he teased.
Mary watched him walk down her front steps and back down the block heading in the direction he'd come from not all that long ago. She thought about all he'd said. Wondered about all it could and might not mean. When he turned the corner with a wave she walked back into the house. Instead of heading to the kitchen where her coffee pot was still hot on the burner she went straight to the back bedroom. She went to the tall dresser at the back of the room where another much like it had once stood in the exact same location. Filled with treasures for little girls to sift through on rainy or aimless days. She was about to do the same. Pulling one of the bottom drawers open she removed the first box in the drawer filled with many of the old journals and diaries found over the course of the last year. She'd glanced through them, they all had. Now she was going to read through them. Word for word, page by page. With luck she might find answers to the questions she'd yet to ask.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"That was..." Addie thought about what she wanted to say and settled on, "different."
"Let's be honest, honey. It was nerve wracking." Mary shook her head, worn from the last hour with her cousin. "I knew Casey was going to be a hard task master, she wants this to make a point, a strong point and I don't blame her. But for Pete's sake, just because we want to take a stand and make a point doesn't mean we expect to get an Oscar out of it." She glanced down at the young girl....woman, she corrected herself, walking beside her and winked when Addie looked back up at her. "Besides that, I felt like an idiot. A grown woman talking about being harassed, and successfully so by a bunch of idiots throwing words around like so much lumpy jello."
"I..."
Mary waited for Addie to continue. There was so much brewing in her, she thought sadly. "Go on," she said gently when nothing more came.
Addie sighed deeply. "I felt stupid and naïve," she finally admitted. "I should have known better."
"Maybe," Mary agreed. She wasn't going to lie to her or worse than that, pander to her. That wasn't going to help anyone especially someone like Addie. "But I can say that as easily as you. And I'll tell you what my mother told me and I've always told my own children." She looked over toward the river and was glad they'd decided to walk to the taping. It gave them time for this talk they wouldn't have had if they'd driven. "Making a mistake is going to happen and we would be silly to think we wouldn't make our fair share but making the same mistake twice, at least as far as she was concerned was just plain stupid." She smiled down at Addie, slung her arm around her shoulders, wincing at the weight the young woman still needed to put back on. "My mother certainly wasn't keen on some of the stupid things we did but she knew we needed to make those mistakes to learn from them." She sighed at the memories. "There's nothing like a dose of humility or embarrassment to keep you from doing anything stupid more than once."
"What if you made the same mistake again?"
"It was rare and not an enjoyable experience," Mary said somberly.
Addie ducked her head so the smile that Mary's tone more than her words elicited wouldn’t be seen. She could hardly imagine the woman next to her ever doing anything so bad that would get her in trouble with anyone. But she could tell she had and it hadn't been pleasant at all. She was also glad to know she wasn't the only one to feel stupid at the taping. And was even more thrilled it was over with. In the next couple of days Casey and Grace would begin uploading it and the others to their website and while it terrified her she knew it was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do.
They walked in silence for a while until a memory made Addie abruptly laugh out loud. At Mary's questioning look she choked out, still laughing. "Did you see Aunt Carrie's face when Casey told her that Uncle Nick had called her and wanted to be part of this? I thought she was going to gag!"
Mary thought privately that gagging was the least of what Carrie had been feeling in those moments. Whatever had prompted Casey to make the announcement then and there was beyond her. But it had made Addie happy. And while she knew Casey couldn't stand the man personally, his standing as a U.S. Senator was beyond reproach and would only bring more interest to the site and lend even more support to their intention to stand up against those who used the internet to harass their victims. "Let's just say your Aunt Carrie wasn't exactly beside herself with joy."
"I don't think I've ever seen her that surprised."
"Ummm." Mary wasn't certain she wanted to add anything to that.
"Well, in the big scheme of things I really don't blame her. Uncle Nick is a moron. Even my Mom thinks so and he's her brother."
"Honey, I hate to tell you this but familial relationships don't stop someone from having negative thoughts about someone. Fact is," she smiled at her as she continued. "They can sometimes make it worse."
"Maybe," Addie said as she thought about it. But it didn't change the fact her uncle could be a real ass sometimes. "Do you think it will make a difference for anyone?"
Mary didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. "I hope so." And she did dearly. "I think just that we're making this effort makes a difference. We've gotten smarter and we're making the people around us smarter about the whole situation. Some of those people will talk about with it other people they know and it will continue to be discussed. That's a start. And a start is the best anyone can hope for."
"Yeah."
Mary heard the worry and understood it. She felt the same. But she didn't want Addie mired down in it so she threw out the one topic she was certain would shift both the conversation and mood. "So how are the paintings coming with Aunt Charlie? She working you hard?"
"It doesn't seem like work at all!" Addie defended.
"That's not the story Mallie would tell," Mary teased but pleased with the staunch defense of her aunt.
&
nbsp; "It makes me feel like a princess," Addie admitted softly with a smile that lit up her entire face. She didn't want to say anything bad about anyone especially Mallie. She knew if it weren't for her, Aunt Charlie would still be painting Mallie but nothing had been said about it. She didn't think Mallie was hurt by it but she just didn't know for sure. And because she wasn't at all certain how to handle the situation she'd been careful not to step into it without knowing what she was doing or saying.
"I've seen a little of what she's done. You look like a princess," Mary told her honestly. In truth she'd been awed at what she'd seen. But then her aunt's paintings had always made her feel like she'd taken a punch to the gut. Her talent brought life to her paintings. Almost as if you could reach out and into them.
"She told me I could keep all the dresses she bought for them." She looked up at her aunt's cousin. "How can I?" she practically whispered. She couldn't believe what had been offered on top of everything else.
"Addie," Mary began, trying to figure out the best way to explain her aunt's motivation when it was so much a part of who she was, who she had always been and while so normal to her would seem overwhelming to someone not used to it.
"I don't know what I should do."
Mary stopped and turned towards Addie forcing her to stop as well. The words just spoken had been those of a young girl filled with uncertainty and worry. Only honesty could ease that. "How much do you know about Aunt Charlie's life the last ten years or so?" Mary saw the confusion and knew the answer before it was spoken.
"Not much," Addie said tentatively. "I know she he doesn't like living near Aunt Carrie's brothers."
Mary laughed. Of all the things to talk about it didn't surprise her that would be the one her aunt chose. Then Addie looked at her with eyes that spoke before her words.
"They sound a lot like my Uncle Nick."
That stopped Mary in her tracks and had her watching her cousin's niece closely. Waiting.
Summer Street Secrets (The Hills of Burlington Book 3) Page 13