Meet Me in the Garden

by Rosa Sophia

Some of the potted plants were herbs—basil, oregano, a few she didn’t recognize offhand. Decorations hung from the awning over the hedge. Small glass figurines of fairies twirled in a slight sea breeze. Wind chimes tinkled.

  Hanging on the door to unit 1A was a handcrafted pentacle. Sprigs of colorful dried flowers had been painstakingly tied to the wooden symbol. A feeling of peace and calm emanated from the door, which was painted a shade of blue slightly lighter than the building itself.

  Amalie could tell whomever lived here radiated strength and personal power. Just walking up to the door made her feel as though she were entering another reality. When Ian reached forward and rapped on the wood, Amalie startled out of her drifting thoughts and returned to the present.

  Before she could ask him more about the person in unit 1A, the door opened, and they were greeted by a plump older woman who wore a multi-colored blouse and straight-legged sky azure slacks. Her orangey red hair had been pulled into a messy up-do, and she was wearing wire rimmed glasses over eyes that were the same shade as her pants. Her thin lips, shimmering pink and glossy, turned up in a bright smile, showing straight white teeth. A small silver pentacle hung over her ample bosom.

  “Ian! So nice to see ya,” she exclaimed. “And who is this?”

  “Roseanne, this is my girlfriend Amalie. Amalie, this is Roseanne.”

  “Well! Both of ya come right in, make yerselves at home.” Roseanne shuffled to the side. “I was hoping you’d pop by, Ian. I made some stir-fry and sweet noodle kugel for the gang last night, and there’s plenty left ova. I’ll wrap some up, and ya take it home with ya.”

  As Roseanne rambled on about a gathering she’d hosted the previous night, Amalie looked around at the large living room with its plush couch, armchairs, lace doilies, stuffed bookcases, and colorful tapestries. One tapestry depicted the zodiac, which made Amalie smile because she had a tapestry that was quite similar. Another pictured a crescent moon cradling the sun.

  Peeking at the wide bookcase, Amalie saw a number of books about witchcraft—Aradia, Gospel of the Witches, Natural Magic, and The Goddess is in the Details. There were also books on Jewish spirituality, and framed photographs hanging on the walls that depicted stunning natural scenes. Amalie stared at one of the photos, a picture of a beautiful waterfall. Beneath it, a couple of young boys splashed around in the water.

  Amalie startled when Roseanne interrupted her thoughts.

  “Ah, ya like my photos. This one’s a gorgeeeouus park in western Pennsylvania. Those are my boys, Jake and Thomas, when they were twelve and fourteen. We used to go campin’ a lot with their fatha.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Jersey. We lived in the city for a little while, but then Charlie bought a house in the country and me ’n the boys stayed there long after Charlie died. When the boys grew up, I moved down here. That was quite a while ago. Would you like some coffee, dear? Tea? Cookies?”

  “Tea and cookies sounds good.”

  “Both of ya have a seat in the living room, make yourselves comfortable, I’ll get the kettle goin’.”

  Amalie listened while Roseanne and Ian chatted amicably about various neighborhood goings-on. In the living room, Amalie sat down on the couch and leaned back against the soft cushions.

  A few moments later, Roseanne brought a wooden tray out from the kitchen and placed it on the wide oak coffee table. On the tray were three steaming mugs, a teapot, and three small dishes with two cookies each. Amalie brightened when she saw they were oatmeal raisin, her favorite.

  “Thank you,” she said, gratefully accepting the small dish and carefully setting her mug on a lace doily.

  “Yer welcome, dear. Baked ’em just this morning.”

  As Amalie bit into the soft cookie, savoring the sweet flavor, she wondered why Ian had brought her downstairs to meet this New Jersey witch. She was still trying to figure out his reasoning when Roseanne sat down across from her and sipped her tea.

  “Amalie, I feel as if I’ve known ya forever.” Roseanne peered at her over her glasses and winked.

  “W-why?”

  “Ian told me about ya weeks ago,” she explained, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I’ve been dying to meetcha.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m glad to meet you. These cookies are delicious.”

  “Thank you, I’m so glad ya like ’em.”

  Amalie glanced across the room at Ian, who was sitting tentatively on the edge of an armchair. He winked at Amalie.

  “Um, so, it’s nice to meet you,” Amalie hazarded, rubbing her hands on her pants. “But I…I have some stuff to do, so I should be going.”

  Ian raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you didn’t have anything to do today?”

  “I have…um, I have to go food shopping.” She glanced distractedly at her tea, of which she’d only taken a few sips.

  It was delicious, and so were the cookies, but a sudden confusion overwhelmed her. Something about Roseanne bothered her, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Every time she looked at her, the older woman’s eyes seemed to twinkle, as if she knew something Amalie didn’t. It was bugging her and she couldn’t figure out why.

  As if he’d read her mind, Ian stood up, raising his hands in defeat. “Okay, hang on, wait. Roseanne knows why you’re here, but I don’t think I said enough to you. I’m sorry, Am.” He glanced at Roseanne, who was leaning back in her chair and sipping her tea. A black cat emerged from behind the furniture and nuzzled her foot. Ian looked back at Amalie. “Remember a while back when you made a joke, asking me if I knew a good therapist, and I said I could introduce you to one? Well, maybe I’m terrible at introductions, but I think you and Roseanne have a lot in common. I just really thought you should meet.”

  There was a long silence. The heavy clock that hung over the entrance to the kitchen, with its delightful images of differently colored cats engaged in various endearing activities, ticked noisily. The room smelled like patchouli and oatmeal raisin, scents Amalie never would have imagined going well together.

  “I guess I just—”

  “Feel uncomfortable?” After interrupting her, Roseanne took another sip of her tea. A warm smile spread across her face as she patted Amalie on the knee. “It’s all right. Ya don’t have to stay. But please stop by any time ya want. I’d love to talk with ya.” She rose from her chair, and the black cat darted away. “Ian, let me get ya those goodies.”

  Roseanne carefully placed her tea cup on a doily on the coffee table, and stepped into the kitchen. She emerged carrying a paper grocery bag full of food.

  “Be careful, now. Hold it from the bottom. I put some cookies in there too, and some of my homemade tea mix. It’s good for calming the nerves.” She peeked around Ian at Amalie. “I know ya have trouble sleeping, dear, Ian told me. There’s a mix in a baggie, I put your name on it. It’s a blend of lavender, hops, mugwort, sage, rosemary, and thyme…oh, and just a pinch of valerian root.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Take care now, dears. Come back anytime, Amalie.”

  When the door shut behind them, Ian led the way, walking slowly with the bag in his hands. The children still yelled and laughed by the pool, but Amalie hardly heard them.

  “What was that about?”

  “Hmm?” Ian glanced back at her, then started climbing the stairs. “What’d you say?”

  “What was that about?” Something deep in her subconscious told her Roseanne was supposed to be an important part of her life, but she couldn’t seem to put the thought into a cohesive sentence. “I mean, why’d you introduce me to her?”

  “I thought you’d get along. My mistake.”

  A coldness flooded Amalie. She gulped. “Your…mistake? Wait, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t say I was upset.”

  They reached the top of the stairs and Ian turned and looked at her. “I thought you were. You seem upset. I took you downstairs to introduce you to a friend of mine, someone who’s been really great to me over the years I’ve been her
e. The least you could do is pretend to be interested.”

  “Ian, I just…I’m sorry, I…I just didn’t know why you—”

  “Everything has to be about you, doesn’t it?”

  The words stung, and an aching pulse shot up through Amalie’s body, making tears well behind her eyes.

  Ian shoved the door open and they walked into the condo. The coolness of the air conditioning enveloped Amalie, causing a jolt of pain to cross her face.

  She held back, she wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t.

  He placed the bag on the countertop in the kitchen and dug out each carefully wrapped dish, placing them in the fridge. He left the tray of cookies on the counter and meticulously folded the bag, placing it in the pantry without even glancing at Amalie.

  “Ian, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” she said in a soft voice.

  “It’s okay. I probably shouldn’t have brought you down there so suddenly. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’ve been thinking about introducing you for a while.” He turned and finally looked her in the eye. “Honestly, I don’t know why you waited so long to tell me this about yourself. I’m a little hurt by that. You couldn’t possibly think your beliefs would upset me.”

  “Most people think…most people think I worshipped the devil.”

  “I’m not most people,” Ian reminded her. “And what happened to your faith? You said you lost it. Does that mean—?”

  “I don’t have faith in anything anymore.” Amalie’s voice shattered. She forced back a sob. “I don’t know why I want to cry. It doesn’t make any sense. I live in this nice condo, I have you, I don’t have to deal with anything I used to deal with. Last week I talked to Dad on the phone, and he sounded good. He sounded sober, kind. Like I remember him sounding when I was little, before Mom died. I feel like something’s wrong with me. I feel like…like I should be happy, but I’m not. And these dreams, they won’t go away.”

  “Which is exactly why I wanted you to talk to Roseanne. You don’t have to be afraid of telling her these things. She’s like you.”

  “And what am I? Ian, what am…what am I supposed to be?” She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing back the tears. She didn’t want him to see her cry.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her closer. When she smelled his cologne, and felt his warmth against her, she felt secure. The barriers she held broke down. She wept against him, and he held her for a long time, gently rubbing her back.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay. You’ve been working too hard. You don’t sleep well enough.”

  “What about that first night?” Amalie blubbered through her tears. “The first night here, I slept right through. Ian, I slept so well…better than I’ve slept in years. And now the dreams are getting worse. They’re turning into nightmares. I can’t control it, and I wake up exhausted every day. Maybe I’m crazy.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. But can I ask you something?”

  “What?”

  “Why are you so distrustful of me?”

  “What—”

  “Amalie, sometimes I feel like you pull away from me. Sometimes I feel like there’s this wall between us, like there’s two of you. I only know a part of you. The Amalie I want to know hides herself from me, and from my friends. I want you to get to know Roseanne. She can help you. Why are you so suspicious of her?”

  “That’s what you think it is?” Amalie pulled away and took a few steps back. “There’s not two of me, I…I don’t pull away from you. I don’t feel so good.”

  “Are you okay? Is it your face?”

  Amalie rubbed her eyes. “I think I need to lay down. Something’s wrong.”

  “Am, tell me.” Ian reached out to her, but she stepped away.

  “My head hurts, that’s all.” Images swam across her mind of Roseanne, Ian, the condo downstairs. The scent of cloves permeated her senses. She was so tired, so exhausted.

  “Come on.” Ian placed his hands on her waist and guided her gently into her bedroom.

  Amalie allowed herself to slump onto the bed, then lay down with her head against the pillow.

  “You have a day off today, you should try to rest.”

  “You’re right. I won’t be able to sleep during the week,” Amalie mumbled, thinking of her alarm clock rudely awakening her. The mattress moved slightly as Ian sat down beside her, interlocking their fingers. He gently squeezed her hand. The world around her began to fade. “Ian?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good. Just stay here…for a little bit. Until I fall asleep. I think…I feel like I might sleep. For real, you know? Just stay.”

  “I’ll stay, Amalie. Don’t worry. I won’t leave.”

  She moved slightly so she could rest her cheek against the back of his hand, and then closed her eyes. The softness of the blanket beneath her bare arms was so inviting. The pillow against the back of her head cradled her, tempting her into a deep slumber. Whatever was going on in her mind, she had to ride it out, and she had to let it go. Whatever it was, she didn’t want it to control her.

  Chapter 24

  1699, Ireland

  The wound ran deep. Struggling with her past, Myrna desperately tried to reconcile her present. Darkness fell and night was a heavy blanket she couldn’t shrug off, providing heat that was almost sickening. The weight sunk against her heart, bringing anguish that would last centuries.

  On the morrow, she would see the Woodsman.

  The last time she’d met him at the creek, he arrived before she did. He was skinning an animal on the forest floor, crouching amongst the dead leaves. When he was finished, he sat beside her by the water.

  That night, she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t get the image of his smile out of her mind, the way his thin lips curled upward toward deep, penetrating eyes. She knew she had to end it.

  Her heart was being torn apart. The love she gave Malachi never seemed enough. The Woodsman offered her something, but now she wasn’t sure she wanted it. Something about him was off. Discomfiting.

  Her dark room seemed to swallow her whole. She had caught the eye of the Woodsman, and now he wanted nothing else. He’d tried to pull her into his embrace and she resisted. He kept trying to put his hands on her, and she recoiled every time. He’d tried to take her and she said no. Tomorrow she would tell him no again, for the last time. Malachi need not know any of it.

  It has to work. It has worked before. It will work again.

  The heavy door on the other side of the room creaked open. Candlelight flickered. Myrna was not afraid. She lay there with her head on the pillow, pretending to dream, opening her eyes halfway. Malachi walked closer, then sat on the edge of the bed, his face illuminated by candlelight. He took her hand.

  “I love ye, Myrna. With everything I am, I love ye.”

  She said nothing, but squeezed his hand gently, and curled herself around him.

  It has to work. It has worked before. It will work again.

  Tomorrow she would see the Woodsman, and turn him away. Then she would find a way to talk to Malachi.

  Chapter 25

  2013, Jupiter, Florida

  Months passed quickly as though they were mere minutes. Amalie and Ian were both distracted by work, so they had little time together. At the office one day, Joy pried until Amalie told her about their dates, their kisses, and their newly created traditions of enjoying dinner together on the weekends and watching movies.

  Amalie shared how Ian loved horror movies, but she couldn’t stand them, so she hid behind him during the worst parts, and then anxiously demanded he tell her exactly what’d happened.

  Joy chuckled to herself, slipping her Bluetooth earpiece away from her thin blonde hair and placing it on her ink blotter. “You two have gotten quite close, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” Amalie said, sitting down across from her.

  “How long’s it been?”
<
br />   “Our first date was five months ago.” Amalie shook her head, amazed at how quickly things had progressed. “I can’t believe I just ran into him at the Breakers and then…that was it.”

  “Aren’t you glad I make you cover those events?”

  “I sure am now. I just can’t believe we’re living together. I mean, not that we’re…We do have separate rooms. I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I’m so tired.”

  “You have separate rooms?” Joy looked up, raising an eyebrow.

  For a split second, the two women locked eyes.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Amalie clutched a pile of file folders with some paperwork she and Joy had to go over. “I…I have a fear of intimacy.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Well, we have, just…we don’t much.” The memory of their first time together was not something she wanted to think about. It hadn’t been the best, and they hadn’t been intimate since.

  “Am—”

  “It’s me,” Amalie interjected before Joy could say anything more. “It’s my fault, I’m not ready yet. I’ve only ever been in one relationship, and it was a terrible experience.” Joy knew all about her ex-boyfriend in Maine. “I just want to take it slow, and he’s okay with that.”

  Later that night, after a get-together at the bar with some of her coworkers, Amalie drove home a little buzzed. It was a cloudy night, and there were few stars out. Once she pulled into the parking lot in front of the condominium, Amalie searched the sky for recognizable constellations, but it only made her head spin. The clouds parted briefly to show the Little Dipper, then drifted over the tiny pinpoints of light, teasing her.

  She straightened her skirt and tapped up the stairs in her high heels. A light emanated from the condo as she turned her key in the lock. Stepping inside, she was met by Zoey, who meowed until she re-filled her bowl with dry kibble.

  There was a mess in the kitchen and the light over the stove was on. Amalie put a lid on the pot of rice and chicken Ian had left out, and tucked it into the fridge. She wiped up a small spill, dropped the paper towel in the trash, and extinguished the light. As she entered the hallway, she could hear Ian tapping away on his keyboard. She stopped at the door to his bedroom and knocked lightly. A long moment passed before he turned and looked at her, narrowing his bloodshot eyes and peering at her through his glasses.