Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
‘Moment of Truth’ excerpt
About the Author
Prologue
Christmas was over.
Scraps of red-and-gold paper and curls of ribbons littered the floor. Mike Collins surveyed all the crumpled tissue poking out from empty boxes and sighed.
I should’ve thought to ask Sara to clean up before bed, he thought. That’s what a good father would do.
He shook his head to clear the doubt.
No, that’s what a mother would do. I am a good father, he reminded himself.
He’d given Sara everything she’d asked for this Christmas. Clothes. Nail polish. Even a new phone. But all the colorful and sparkly presents never managed to fill the gaping hole in their lives. And, boy, had he tried. He’d spent the last twelve years trying.
He was tired. Of trying. Of keeping secrets.
Sara needed things that couldn’t be wrapped up and put under the Christmas tree. Things they didn’t talk about. But what was there to say? He couldn’t bring Natalie, her mother, his wife, his love, back to life. The pain of her death should have softened by now, but whenever he gazed at Sara, the rawness ripped through him. She looked just like her mother.
He shook open a plastic garbage bag in a feeble attempt to return order to their small family room. Family room. He wondered at the name. Did just a father and his twelve-year-old daughter make a family? He used to think so, but Sara was getting older. A teenager soon. He’d kept her so isolated. Had he been wrong?
The doubts again. Clogging his brain.
His eyes drifted to the black side table. He thought of the envelope nestled inside the narrow drawer. It had been sitting there unopened for over a week. When it first appeared in his mailbox, he’d wanted to dump it in the trash. Instead, he’d tucked it in the drawer, convincing himself he was too busy decorating the tree and buying gifts to read it. But that wasn’t the truth.
The return address scared him.
Stellamar, New Jersey.
It was from her.
Mike walked over to the table and pulled open the drawer. He took out the envelope and held it up. He inhaled. Would it smell like Natalie did after her morning walks on the Jersey shore? Damp and salty, yet sweet? No. All he could smell was pine from their Christmas tree.
He sank into the gray tweed armchair, the cushion long ago molded to fit his body. Slowly he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a card.
He was finally ready. At least, he hoped so.
The front showed glittery snowflakes against a blue sky. Silver-embossed script proclaimed Happy Holidays! A typical store-bought card. But inside the card were three pages covered on both sides in neat, slanted script. Mike’s fingers trembled as he unfolded the pages. The message inside would not be typical.
Nothing Lady Azura ever said or did was typical.
Dear Mike,
I have waited so long to write this letter. For years, I have wanted to reach out to you and to Sara, but the time was not right. Not for you. Not for me. The guilt and the pain were only bearable if I didn’t speak of it. But I am getting old, and soon there may not be time left.
I think about our lovely Natalie every day. I also think of dear Sara, her mother taken from her only moments after she entered the world.
As you know, Natalie and I were never close during her childhood. Her mother kept her from me. Natalie’s mother—my daughter, Diana—couldn’t understand me. She couldn’t open her mind to possibilities beyond the accepted. When Diana died when Natalie was just nineteen, Natalie finally turned to me. I can’t begin to describe the joy she brought me. I never wanted anything to hurt her, and I never wanted to be the messenger of pain.
But that is exactly what happened.
The vision was so strong, so clear, so frequent that I had no choice but to warn Natalie. I knew you both wanted a large family, but I also knew this was not to be. What I did not know was that Sara was already growing inside her. If I had known she was already pregnant, I would never have told her about my vision. But I didn’t know, and so I shared what I saw—that Natalie would die if she tried to give birth. I did not make this up. It was written, it was decreed, it was her fate. I only wanted to warn Natalie.
My warning came too late.
You barely knew me, and I had foretold your greatest nightmare. Please believe me when I tell you, I did everything in my power to be wrong. But I could not change what was meant to be.
Hot tears pricked the corners of his eyes, bringing Mike back to the day Sara was born. The day Natalie died. His grief and anger had mixed into one, and he had lashed out at Natalie’s kooky grandmother. The doctors had said no one was to blame, but he’d accused Lady Azura of cursing his beautiful wife with her terrible prophecy. Then he’d taken his newborn daughter and fled to California, cutting off all contact with Natalie’s only living relative.
Mike, I have had visions so vivid that I had to share them with you. Natalie has come back to me on several occasions. Oh, the joy to see her again! She is happy, Mike, with how you are raising her daughter. She watches over both of you. Natalie and I have made our peace. She has forgiven me and wishes we had never argued. I know this is difficult for you to understand, but it is with her blessing that I am contacting you.
I have also had visions of dear Sara. This child is special. She possesses great powers. Powers I am sure she does not understand. Powers I can help her with because we share them. Mike, I know you did not believe in my powers, but I believe the years may have changed you. As you have raised Sara these past twelve years, can you honestly tell me you have not sensed that your daughter is special? That she is like no other child? I am writing to you on Sara’s behalf. Think about her. You know deep down about her, don’t you?
The old woman’s crazy, he told himself. She’d always believed she could communicate with the dead and see into the future and who knew what else. He and Natalie used to joke about her grandmother’s kookiness. He bit his lip at the memory.
Mike’s thoughts moved to Sara. To her as a little girl, always talking to imaginary friends. To the girl scared of strange places. The girl who had been plagued by terrible nightmares. The girl whose eyes often focused elsewhere, looking at something unseen.
Could it be? Could she have some sort of paranormal ability?
No, Sara’s just shy, he told himself for the millionth time. A dreamer. Creative.
But a small part of his brain wondered if that was it, and had wondered about this for some time now.
He turned back to the letter.
I stayed away so long because I thought Natalie would have wanted it that way. I knew you did as well. Now I want nothing more than to meet my great-granddaughter. I have no desire to interfere with your lives, I just long for a connection—a connection that I feel would help Sara. I understand what it’s like to see what others do not. From across the country, I can sense Sara’s distress and fear. I can make her less afraid.
I still live in the large house by the boardwalk. There are plenty of rooms. Too many. I would love nothing more than for the two of you to come. Mike, we are family. Please do not wait too long. Sara has many questions, and I have answers. Natalie would have wanted it this way.
He stared at Lady Azura’s sure, steady signature for a long time. His mind churned. He’d taken Sara to the ot
her side of the country to escape misery. But emptiness had followed. He thought about his beautiful, fair-haired daughter. She was not like other girls her age. So scared. So anxious.
He shook his head, not wanting to believe Lady Azura’s hocus-pocus nonsense about Sara. She was fine. She was just missing a mother. Now he wondered if keeping her from her mother’s only living family had been a mistake. He’d never even told Sara that Lady Azura existed.
Suddenly his actions all those years ago seemed foolish. Grief had led him to blame a wacky old woman. Her prophecy had just been a strange coincidence. She hadn’t caused Natalie’s death.
He slid his cell phone from his pocket.
A number was written below the signature, and he dialed it before he could think better of it.
She answered on the first ring.
It wasn’t until July that Mike told Sara. Not about Lady Azura. Not about her mother. Not about the phone call and who the old woman truly was. Just that he’d decided to move them from California to Stellamar, New Jersey. He said it was for work.
He hated lying, but he couldn’t risk Sara being hurt. Lady Azura had agreed to the strict rules he’d laid out. She’d promised never to reveal that she was Sara’s great-grandmother. She would merely be the woman they were renting from and nothing more until Mike thought Sara was ready to know the truth.
He doubted that day would ever come. But he felt he owed it to Sara to try living in Stellamar, just in case Lady Azura was right, and they were meant to be together.
Chapter 1
I laughed the kind of laughter that takes over your body and makes you feel as if you have to pee.
“Do you dare me to wear this to school?” Lily Randazzo teased. She posed with one hand on her hip, as if she was being photographed for a fashion magazine. But no fashion magazine would feature the ridiculous frilly patchwork apron or the silly knit cap covered with dozens of green and red pom-poms she was wearing.
“You would never,” I said, still laughing. “It goes beyond all acceptable ugly.”
“That’s what makes the combo so great,” Lily said, pulling off the hat and apron and placing them back on the store’s table. “It’s so repulsive that it crosses that line into cool.” She eyed them again. “Or not.”
“Not,” I agreed. I’d already decided to come back later and buy the ugly hat for Lily. She’d laugh on Christmas morning when she opened it. Our inside joke.
I had a best friend and inside jokes. Unbelievable. Everything was so different here in Stellamar.
Better.
“Sara, what am I possibly going to buy here?” Lily whispered. She pulled out a piece of notebook paper scribbled with a list of at least thirty names. “I have to get gifts for all these cousins. Everyone comes to our house on Christmas Eve. A cozy dinner for sixty. Mom started cooking last summer!”
I tucked my long blond hair behind my ears and stared at Lily’s list. She had more relatives in and around this tiny town than the town library had books. Or so it seemed. Of course, our town was really small and so was its library, but she still had a lot.
“My whole list can fit on a Post-it note,” I said. “Dad and Lady Azura. That’s it.”
But two was more than one, I knew. Way more. Until recently, it would’ve only been Dad on my list.
I glanced around the store, the Salty Crab, owned by Lily’s aunt Delores. It was a mystery how this woman was related to Lily. Lily had style. She wore cute outfits, oversize sunglasses, and lots of silver jewelry. The Salty Crab sold dresses that could double as tablecloths, sweaters with holiday themes, candles in the shapes of elves and reindeer, and lots of chunky plastic necklaces.
“We could walk somewhere else,” I suggested, pointing out the window to Beach Drive.
Lily picked up a snow globe of the Stellamar boardwalk. “My mom says I have to get some stuff here. Family pity. What about you?” She pointed to a nearby display. “Tie with a huge Santa face for your dad?”
“Going to pass on that,” I said. “I’m making my gifts. For Dad, I’m decorating a wooden box with some tiny shells I found on the beach.”
“You’re so good with crafty things,” Lily said. “What about Lady Azura?”
“I don’t know,” I confided. “I want to make her something too, but it has to be special. You know?”
“Totally one-of-a-kind,” Lily agreed. “Nobody else is like her.”
I watched the tiny snowflakes fall inside the glass ball as Lily shook it. After months of sharing a house with the old woman, I still didn’t know a lot about her. Nothing personal. But I did know we had a connection. We saw things the same way.
A way I couldn’t even begin to explain to Lily.
A way no one else could imagine.
“That’s it. I’m getting snow globes for all the cousins who work on the boardwalk.” Lily grinned. “Half the list is done.” She turned to me. “Are you supposed to get Mrs. Martino something?”
“Seriously?” I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not the one dating her, my dad is. Besides, she makes me call her Janelle.”
“She’ll always be Dina’s mom,” Lily pointed out. “Just the name brings fear to the hearts of middle school girls everywhere!”
“I know. My dad says Janelle’s really nice, but I keep thinking if she’s the one responsible for releasing Dina into the world, then she can’t be all she seems.”
“You think she’s hatching a diabolical plot?” Lily’s dark brown eyes twinkled. Dina Martino was a grade older than we were, but everyone at our school knew her. The mean girls were always known. Supermean girls, like Dina, were legendary.
“No. I just think Janelle’s clueless about her daughters. Dad dragged us all out for a family dinner last weekend. Dina’s older sister, Chloe, was dressed like they were hosting a beauty pageant at the Chinese restaurant. Sparkly dress and stiletto heels. She and Dina talked about shopping and clothes and hair extensions as if I wasn’t even there. The fortune cookie said more to me than they did.”
“Did your cookie predict that your dad will keep dating Janelle?” Lily asked.
“It said something weird like ‘It is better to be the hammer than the nail.’”
“You should ask Lady Azura.” Lily’s tone turned serious. “She could look at the tea leaves or the tarot cards.”
“I don’t need a fortune-teller to tell me this won’t last. My dad’s dated lots of women. None of them ever work out. He can’t get over my mom,” I explained. “Janelle has no chance. I’m not worried about her.”
“What about Dina?”
“She’s decided I don’t exist. That’s working for me.”
“She always trips Miranda in dance class. Her foot appears out of nowhere, and our teacher never sees it. She just thinks Miranda’s gotten really spastic,” Lily reported. “Miranda used to stand in the front row. Now she’s in the back. Guess who dances in front now?”
“Dina, of course.”
Miranda Rich was the most graceful girl I’d ever met. If Dina could pull that off, there was no telling the heights of her meanness.
I zipped up my red down parka to my chin and followed Lily outside. The gray clouds hung low and heavy, but there hadn’t been snow yet. December 15. Ten more days. I hoped I’d get my first white Christmas.
Half the stores on Beach Drive were closed. Stellamar was a summer town. No one bought inflatable rafts, painted hermit crabs, or beach umbrellas in December. Lily inspected Seasons Sports Stop’s small window display, which was basically a bunch of sports equipment heaped into a gift-wrapped box.
“What are you getting Jayden?” she asked.
“What?”
“Jayden,” Lily repeated.
“I heard. Wait. You think I should get him something?” My breathing quickened. Total panic. Jayden Mendes was so cute, with his thick brown hair and warm brown eyes. We talked all the time at school now. Sometimes he texted me. But we were just friends. That was all. I hadn’t even considered getting him somet
hing.
“Maybe.” Lily’s voice held that secretive singsong quality.
“What do you know?” I demanded.
She stalled, twirling a strand of her wavy, dark hair around her finger. “He told me not to tell you.”
“Lily!”
“Okay, you forced me. Jayden asked me what kind of things you like,” she revealed.
“Why?”
“I think he’s going to get you a Christmas gift!” Lily beamed. “Isn’t that great?”
“No. That’s horrible. That means I have to get him something too.” My voice squeaked. Until I moved here, I’d practically never even talked to a boy. I’d just started flirting with Jayden a little. Now I had to buy him a gift? “How about a soccer ball?” I pointed to the window display.
“It’s kind of lame,” Lily replied. “I mean, what if he gets you something good, like a necklace, and you give him a ball? What does that say?”
I groaned. “What’s a gift supposed to say?”
“My cousin Dawn Marie says if a guy gets you jewelry, then he really likes you. My cousin Jessie told me if you get a guy a video game, it says you don’t want to hang out with him—”
“Because why?” I wasn’t following all this.
“Because you’re telling him to go spend time with his video game instead of you!”
“But don’t games have two players? We could play together.”
Lily shrugged. “You should talk to my cousin Tori. She’s always buying gifts for boys. She once bought—Oh, look, there’s Adam hanging lights.” She pointed to a nearby seafood restaurant. “He’s Uncle Lenny’s son. I’m going to say hi. Be right back.”
I watched Lily scamper down the sidewalk. She never walked. She always skipped or danced. She was always in motion.
What was I going to get Jayden? I wondered. Could I make him something? Or was that too weird? What did I want the gift to say?
I turned back to the sports store window for one last look. Maybe there was something—
I gasped.
A man had appeared.
He stood next to me. Extremely close. So close I could smell him. Musty, almost sour.
Spirits of the Season Page 1