Tears continued to well from her eyes as she closed them tight, letting her arms drop and curling into a ball on the bed. She didn’t bother to reach for covers; she didn’t bother to turn out the lamp she’d left on earlier. She just allowed herself to be in God’s presence and her mind to drift toward more pleasant memories.
Within minutes, she was fast asleep, her worries vanquished and her doubts leaving the premises, at least momentarily.
Eight
Paris, France… March 16, 1702
“Did you hear the news? Did you hear? William the Third died, and Anne has ascended to the throne,” Roisin heard as she and Clarice were most of the way back home from the market.
“She is to be crowned in but a few days more. Have you heard,” a second person called in their direction.
Yes, she had heard.
They had told her repeatedly at the market. She’d stopped counting after the third stall.
But what did it mean to them?
What would it mean for Mary, and for James Francis? This was France, after all… and that was England.
And unless Maurice had plans she didn’t ken about, they were staying put where they were. But of course we will stay, she thought as she readjusted her basket. Who would be so foolish as to run in the direction of an unknown? Maurice may not tell me everything, but I ken he wants the best for us all.
But would this news mean war, or would it bring peace?
She tried to think back to what she knew of history… the history she was now part of.
Would her presence affect what she had learned before she had wildly plummeted through the mirror so much that war or peace came about differently for any of them?
She could only hope not… and hope for peace. If she remembered right, though, there could well be war within days or weeks.
A shudder ran through her at the thought, and she pulled Clarice – and her basket of vegetables - just a bit closer toward her.
“Ce que tout cela est à propos, Mama? Pourquoi est-ce un gros problème à la France, l'Angleterre a un nouveau dirigeant? Je croyais que James Francis était le nouveau roi, de toute façon,” Clarice asked her as they made their way into their little home.
Roisin set her own basket down, then took Clarice’s from her hand to set higher out of Duffy’s reach as he came bounding toward them, all fluff and bark.
What was there to say, really?
With a sigh, she tried to put into words the thoughts she had about the matter, leaving out her own worries and fears. What good would they do her young and impressionable daughter?
“Il y a, il y a, Clarice ... tout sera bien. Aucune nécessité de frette pour votre ami ... pas maintenant. La Sainte Mère les montres de tous, et intercède auprès de son fils. Il ne s'agit pas pour nous de demander pourquoi ... du moins pas aujourd'hui, ” she assured her daughter, patting her on the hand a moment before resuming her task.
She couldn’t very well say things were going according to history… not without there being even more questions to answer. For if she was living it, it could only be history to her future self… the one who would fall through the mirror again. Would the cycle of it continue forever?
That was something that had not dawned on her until this very moment; here, in Paris; now, in 1702; here, as she stood with her daughter over their baskets, Duffy at their side.
She sighed and began putting away the vegetables before sending Clarice off to clean a pot for stew and fill it partway with water for boiling.
How could she say anything but that Mary and Jesus had things under control? For they did, did they not?
Even if it wasn’t to the liking of their friends and loved ones, already slated and stated as royal by King Louis… the Good Lord had it under control. She had to believe that, even if it felt like reality and life were crumbling around her.
Even if it felt like she would live in a continual cycle of forevers, married to Declan and childless; married to Maurice, and having Clarice, Duffy, and their modest little home to care for.
Is that how life would be for her because of the mirror? Would she live, be born, and die in a continuation of lifetimes that really were only two blended together? For if she was now, in the past, she’d have to also be then, in the future.
Had Roisin moved into the future, would the same have been true, or would there be the one continuous life lived, with only the interruption of time? She sighed, wishing she hadn’t considered the possibilities as she began to prepare the root vegetables for their stew.
First, she was dealing with her husband and his secrets. Then, James’ death, and now, with this death across the borders – and even the waters – creating a vacuum for potential chaos. Not just in her own life and that of her daughter… not just for the Stuart family… but also for the nations of France and England as a whole.
And on top of it, these ideas of a recycled life creeping in to haunt her? She knew it couldn’t be possible; she knew everyone had but one life, and yet… the thought remained. It burrowed into her mind like a tick burrows under the skin of a dog, lodging itself there firmly.
What was the world coming to?
She knew it wasn’t ending… she had lived beyond it in the future – or was it the past?… so why did she have such a foreboding sense about things? And why were her thoughts becoming so chaotic and frightening?
Shooing Duffy out from underfoot, she set to chopping what she needed for the stew and made sure there was enough water to wash up and still work with for their meal.
Maurice would be home soon, and she ken he’d expect that dinner would be ready, or close to it, when he walked in the door.
She had, three times in a year, disappointed him and been unprepared for the evening meal.
Tonight, she vowed to herself, wasn’t going to be the fourth, no matter what else came sneaking up on her, and no matter how badly that tick itched in her mind.
Nine
Seal Beach, California… March 16, 2020
Calico watched the waves lapping against the shoreline as she shivered in the cool northwesterly-blowing breeze. The sand felt cool and just a little gritty against the skin of her feet and ankles as she got closer to the shoreline and walked along the wave-wet edge, her hair flying around her as the wind shifted, despite her ponytail. The surf pounded against the sand and nipped at her feet as seagulls swung overhead on wide white wings searching for food.
It had been quite a night, but she was glad for the warmth of the sun shining brightly overhead.
She and Romeo had spent much of the day prior with some members of the church, and into the evening hours, helping to repaint the outside of a nearby facility in need before finally finding their way back home for the evening, tuckered and sore.
What she wouldn’t give to go back to bed, but she knew… she wouldn’t sleep. As tired as she was, she never slept past nine… ever. Well, at least not since the time she had been locked away in-
No, she thought. I’m not bringing Arthur Reynolds into this. This is my life; I am no longer his prisoner. I refuse to waste such a gorgeous day thinking about what might be different had I just not walked into that house.
Today had been a rare exception to the rule of nine, sleeping in an extra twenty minutes before struggling to sit up, shake off her discomfort, shower, and prepare breakfast for the day.
And not only for the pair of them, but for the child she carried.
Another reason not to be thinking about Arthur Reynolds, she scolded herself. This is supposed to be the most wonderful time of your life, and you’re going to enjoy it.
She smiled to herself as she heard approaching footsteps.
“You finally made it,” she said, teasing.
“I sure did,” came an unsteady and unfamiliar voice.
She froze, even as she heard her husband begin to yell from further up the beach.
“Everything alright, Love?”
Calico spun around to see who was behind her.
When she’d turned, it was to find a stout woman, perhaps seventy, wearing a bright pink jogging suit and lime green aqua socks.
“I’m sorry I startled you, dear,” the woman said. “I thought you were my granddaughter. We were supposed to meet along the edge here but I can’t seem to find her.”
A smile, half-empty of teeth, followed apologetically.
“Yes, Romeo… I think we’re good,” she called back.
“Well,” she said as she turned her attention back to the woman, smiling shyly. “If you’d like to sit here with me and wait to see if she shows up, I’d be delighted with the company. My husband should be joining us shortly.”
“I think…,” the woman began, her voice wobbling like a top. “I think I’d like that… I’m just not sure I can get down there and back up again,” the woman said with a laugh. “I’m Margaret,” she said, sticking out a frail hand, timeworn and spotted with age.
Calico reached out to shake it, surprised by the softness of it.
“I think we can help you with that,” she said, laughing back, a bit lighter than Margaret had.
“You can call me Calico, and that,” she said pointing to her husband, now only a few yards away, “is my husband, Romeo. Glad to meet you.”
“Calico and Romeo? My, those are… unusually peculiar names, aren’t they,” Margaret said with a smile. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She took a moment to balance herself as she prepared to stand and help the woman as someone else called in their direction. “Good grief, Grand’Mere, there you are! I’ve been looking positively everywhere for you.”
Over Romeo’s shoulder, she could see a tall, thin woman of about twenty, with a hawkish nose and big brown eyes. Her hair was back in a ponytail, like Calico’s, and not too different in shading.
But if the granddaughter was so thin, how could Margaret confuse them?
She watched as her acquaintance waved hello to the newcomer and smiled again… another beautiful, half-toothy grin.
“Wanda, come meet these nice people,” Margaret said with a bit of pep in her voice. Calico thought she saw relief in her eyes, as well, noting they were the same deep brown as her granddaughter’s.
As Wanda stepped closer, Romeo turned and shook her hand. “Hi, there. We’re Romeo and Calico. Nice meeting you….”
He quickly offered to help both of the ladies sit down in the event they wanted to stay and talk, but Wanda shook her head.
“Can’t stay. Took too long finding Grand’Mere to do anything else this morning. I need to get her back to her care facility in less than an hour, which means we’ve already missed sharing any kind of breakfast together.”
Care facility, Calico thought. If Margaret was in a care facility, wouldn’t there have been staff with her?
She tried to catch Romeo’s eye, and when she did, raised an eyebrow.
Please, God, don’t let him buy that. What’s the real story?
“I’m sorry, but… care facility,” he asked Wanda. “Why was she wandering all alone if…?”
“Well I went to grab some coffee and told her I’d meet her down here, of course,” the thin young woman said, raising her cup toward him with a smile, as if it explained everything.
Something about the story didn’t add up. Not to Calico, at least.
“We don’t mean to intrude, but… why didn’t you just take her with you to the coffee house,” she asked, a bit hesitantly.
“Listen, Lady,” Wanda said, turning toward her quickly, a scowl creeping over her face. “If I want ten minutes of privacy to go get my coffee and let my Grand’Mere have some private time, too, what’s it to you? She has people watching her every minute, or so it would seem to me, and I thought it’d be good for her to be alone with her thoughts.”
With a sigh, Calico glanced back and forth between the two women, and then to Romeo.
What could she say to that? It wasn’t as if they could go to the facility the woman was from in order to check on the story, even if they knew which one, was it?
Her thoughts strayed to her mother and siblings; to Andrea’s mother. What would be happening if both she and her friend had survived? If she hadn’t fallen through the mirror; if Andrea had borne her baby?
She certainly wouldn’t be here with the love of her life standing on the beach, a baby on the way and a puzzled look on her face, would she?
Romeo took her by the hand and they began to walk in silence along the shore. After a while, he stopped and removed the rubber band from her hair and plowed his fingers through the tangles of it to kiss her in the sand-swept wind.
“It’ll be alright,” he finally said. “It’ll all be alright.”
“Well, that was just too weird,” Calico told her husband when they finally headed to the car to go get some groceries. “I don’t understand how anyone would leave a confused woman that age outside where she was so vulnerable; all alone. She looked so startled that I wasn’t her granddaughter; so forlorn.”
Calico was thankful they had the day off, and it was really a blessing, but when they encountered anything that involved the potential for abuse, it made her insides shake and rumble.
Ever since she’d been invited to become part of HUVA – the Hollywood Underground Victim’s Assistance that had been so instrumental in keeping her alive when she’d needed it – she’d not regretted joining up for a single moment. And today was no exception. She just wished she could follow up on Wanda’s claims regarding Margaret.
She and Romeo had just finished a short-term case where they were a transfer point along the way for three women in need, and it made her heart glad to do for others what had been done for her. Therefore, for the past month and a half, they had escorted the women to doctor appointments and surgeries and guarded them with their very lives.
But now that they would be parents; now that they knew she was with child, was it wise to continue in the work? Was she being foolish to think everything would be alright with every client for the next several months, and then be done once the baby was born?
She wasn’t sure… and now that she was worried for Margaret, it made her even more than just unsure.
It confused her.
“What… oh, yeah, you mean the lady and her grandmother,” Romeo asked her, sounding distracted.
“Yeah, I mean, who in their right mind would leave a woman close to eighty, confused and alone, at the edge of the ocean in order to go get coffee simply to have a few minutes of privacy,” she asked, shrugging her shoulders as he pulled into the parking lot of their local Ralph’s at the Old Ranch Town Center. “I just don’t get it at all.”
It had been a few weeks since they’d been able to stock up, and she was thankful they hadn’t run out during their assignment. They were out of nearly all the basics, and every single specialty item; not to mention prescriptions and getting a cake for Romeo’s birthday the next day.
She hoped to slip away for the cake while he was at the meat counter, but even now, he rarely let her out of his sight in the event people who might be searching for her recognized her somewhere.
“Well, strange as it may be, there’s nothing we can do about it unless we see it happening again, my Love,” her husband said, interrupting her thoughts. “There’s no crime against it… it’s just stupid, from what I can tell.”
He extended his arm out to her and, once she took it, shut and locked the car door behind him before escorting her to get a couple of grocery carts.
She sighed.
What must the people who work here think, when we come in here for a cart and a half of food and necessities nearly every time we show up, she mused to herself, leading the way.
“If you’d like, we can split up; I take all the dairy and deli stuff, and you grab the rest,” she suggested, hoping to distract him.
“Oh, it’s all right. We’re not in any hurry. Today, it’s all about you and me, and I’m not looking for any more interruptions than can be helped,” he told her
with a smile.
He pulled his cart up next to hers a moment and gave her a kiss before pulling ahead and heading toward the left side of the store to begin their routine.
With another shrug, she followed behind him, and an hour and a half later, they were finally at the checkout awaiting their total.
“That’ll be three hundred twelve dollars and nineteen cents,” their cashier told them, her brace-covered smile pleasantly calm after swiping the last of their items over the scanner.
Romeo sighed as he pulled out his debit card and swiped it, and then quickly inputted his pin as Calico shook her head in disgust.
“Is it just me, or does everything seem to become more expensive every single time we show up at the store,” Romeo asked as he took the receipt from the young woman, laughing.
Quickly gathering their bags back into the carts once more, they proceeded outside to load them into the trunk and back seat before making a quick stop for hot pizza and heading home again.
In the end, Calico had let Romeo choose his own cake, instead of trying to surprise him. Despite that, she looked forward to their little celebration, thankful a few friends were in town who could come over and share the special day.
It wasn’t every day a man turned forty years old and got to announce he was going to be a father…
Ten
Vancouver, Washington… March 16, 2020
“You mean to tell me they still have Edward at the hospital,” Paloma heard Daniella asking through the earpiece of her phone. “He’s awake, but they’re keeping him there? That doesn’t even make any sense to me,” her friend continued.
The Angels' Mirror Pack 2: Books Four through Seven Page 7