Prophecy of Three

by Ashley McLeo

  That’s odd, all the lights are on, Lily thought, turning into the driveway of a cabin with a cherry red door. Hopefully Em isn’t fighting insomnia again. Emily would never admit it, but Lily knew insomnia was Em’s code for battling her demons from a life years past and miles away. Maybe she’s up writing poetry again, Lily hoped, pulling the keys from the ignition.

  “Everyone else has equal claim to words during the day, but in the small hours, they’re all mine, darlin’, and I’ll take ’em when I can,” Emily would say on nights when Lily shuffled bleary eyed into the kitchen for a glass of water to find Em scribbling in her notebook.

  Air teased goosebumps up her arms as Lily exited the car for the first time in hours. The scent of damp, living soil flew at her and she inhaled deeply, savoring the nuances of the night. Faint traces of rhododendrons, dahlias, and mint hung in the night air like secret admirers vying for her attention.

  The red door swung open before Lily had even reached the stairs.

  “Lawd, child! We weren’t expecting you till noon!” Emily exclaimed, her hazel eyes crinkling as she pulled Lily up the steps by her arms and into a fierce hug.

  Lily’s body slackened as the pear scent of Emily’s silver hair enveloped her. “I was too excited to sleep so I kept driving. You know summer solstice is my favorite! I didn’t want to be late,” she said, pulling an impish grin she knew Em couldn’t resist to hide her half truth.

  The last thing she wanted to do was bring up how her sleep was plagued by the feeling of dark, silky hair sliding between her fingers. That aromas of sandalwood and coins warmed in a hand lingered over her bed for hours, nearly as long as Liam’s voice rang deep in her ears. It made sleep far less appealing. Only the fact that no one at the commune knew about Liam and their ill-fated relationship made the lie easier. That the relationship had devoured her completely for months, leaving little time for thought of friends or family, would have been enough reason for her family to dislike him. After their final encounter Lily had been too ashamed to reveal she had fallen for someone she’d so clearly misread. Liam was the only secret she’d ever kept from them.

  Emily’s eyes bore into her, as if sensing the lie by omission, before finally cupping Lily’s shoulders and guiding her inside. “Rena’s gonna be mighty displeased you didn’t stop to rest, but truth be told, I’m right pleased you’re finally home,” she drawled in a voice that, despite having left the south decades ago, clung to its twang. “You look dead on your feet. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Lily smiled at familiarities of home as they shuffled through the cluttered living room strewn with balls of yarn attached to half-finished projects. Countless books of poetry sat atop the old coffee table, a modern woman’s shrine to George Chapman, Mary Oliver, Pablo Neruda, and Maya Angelou. Her chest loosened as they passed the kitchen with its small dining table and gleaming copper pots hanging from the ceiling. She’d passed many hours here, spilling her guts around the table that Emily referred to as the heart of her home.

  “I’ve changed a few things since you’ve been home last,” Emily warned, pushing open the door to Lily’s room.

  Lily’s muscles softened at the sight of a welcoming sage green duvet, pulled back and ready for her to dive into. Dimmed amethyst lamps illuminated a colorful nosegay of fresh ranunculus. The once lime green walls were now a pleasant cream color adorned with black and white photos of Lily’s family. A painting depicting an ethereal forest landscape hung above her bed, and a morsel of homemade caramel sat atop the pillow.

  “You’ve been expecting me?” Lily asked, eyeing the turned down bedding.

  “I had a feelin’.” Emily Harp was famous for her intuition and knew when to heed it.

  “I hope you don’t mind I redecorated?” Emily asked, her tone uncertain. “Rena painted the picture. It’s your homecoming gift.”

  “You’ve outdone yourself, Em! And the painting is absolutely gorgeous. I’ll be sure to thank Rena tomorrow.”

  “Weeeel. There isn’t a whole lot else to do when my soul doesn’t want to sing. Plus that bright green color was hurtin’ my old eyes,” Em teased, giving Lily’s shoulder a playful whack, before plumping a pillow one last time.

  “Don’t remind me,” Lily groaned, as images of lime green walls dotted with posters of bands and celebrities she’d hung in a sad attempt to feel like a normal teenage girl threatened to override the serene scene before her.

  “Alright, darlin’, time for you to shut those pretty green eyes,” Em ordered, as if Lily were still twelve. “I’m so glad you’re home.” She kissed Lily on the cheek before disappearing back down the hall.

  “Night, Em.”

  Lily was ripped from sleep four hours later by an obnoxious noise. What the hell? she wondered, her head still foggy. It sounded once more, clearer this time. That damn rooster. Lily flung her face back into her pillow, though she knew it wouldn’t help. She was awake and would remain so. Turning her head to the side, Lily spotted the caramel sitting atop the opposite pillow. She popped it in her mouth, savoring the buttery goodness rolling over her tongue.

  Now that’s the way to wake up. I should convince Em to let me leave a bowl of caramels by the bed all the time.

  She stretched her body out long, reveling in the spaciousness of her queen-sized bed before dangling her feet over the edge gingerly. Her aches and pains had vanished. She paused, trying to remember if she’d had any nightmares, but none emerged in the light of day. Well, isn’t that something, she thought, swinging her legs and stretching her arms without pain for the first time in months.

  She pranced to the window and pulled back the thick, cream curtains. The lazy morning sun rushed in to warm her cheeks. A perfect day, she thought, taking in the view outside her window.

  The woods surrounding Terramar were nothing short of magical. Large trees with spring green moss swimming up their trunks loomed high over the cabin. Weak morning light pushed through the foliage and mist to dance upon the undergrowth of mushrooms littering the base of each tree. A light breeze teased its way through the woods, its presence indicated by the faintest rustle of leaves marring the morning calm.

  Emily’s garden grew outside Lily’s window and already boasted astonishing quantities of plump heirloom tomatoes, Oregon strawberries, lettuce, and wax beans. A fig tree planted twenty years before stood at the garden’s edge. It was bare now, but Lily knew it would be heavy with deep purple fruit by summer’s end.

  Lily took her time in the shower, indulging in the homemade soaps and lotions made by Terramar residents. Last she heard, the boutiques in Portland were selling them at astronomical prices and still couldn’t keep them in stock. She dressed in the first items pulled from her bag, which someone had helpfully set inside her door as she slept. I could hardly have done better if I planned it, she thought, examining her outfit of oxblood skinnies, a gray top, and navy ballet flats. She threw her wavy brown hair into her typical topknot and applied a single coat of mascara.

  Em was placing a plate of warm scones on the table as Lily shuffled into the kitchen.

  “Marionberry?” Lily asked. Her mouth was already watering at the thought of the commune’s legendary marionberries embedded in one of Emily’s moist scones. All crops grown on Terramar land ripened early. The reason why eluded commune residents (who admittedly never cared much to investigate) and baffled the handful of scientists Rena allowed to study the soil. Friends of the commune and a grocer in Hood River made regular trips to Terramar to buy plump, fresh fruit weeks before their own gardens would yield such treasures.

  “Can’t have you starvin’ on your first day back, can I?” Em asked with a wink as she tended a sizzling skillet of Lily’s favorite pulled pork hash.

  Thank god I love running, Lily thought, claiming the largest scone without guilt. Her affinity for running had been fostered on the abundant dirt trails woven around their hidden community. It had given her a sense of strength and a small taste of freedom from her large, ever-present family. Time
seemed to stop when her feet pounded dirt paths. More than once Lily found herself racing home in the dark unsure how she’d lost track of the hour. Surprisingly, her long absences didn’t worry anyone else. Least of all Rena, who allowed her to run anywhere she liked, as long as she was on Terramar land. It was an easy rule to follow. Terramar extended for miles in all directions and was marked at its perimeter by iron fencing.

  “Anyone stopped by yet?” Lily asked, spreading a liberal amount of butter on the soft scone. Dark purple berries burst and mixed with the yellow butter, creating a pleasing tie-dye effect.

  “Lawd, have they! Richard, bless his heart, brought your bag in at dawn. Said he’d seen your car packed to burst on his run. He left the rest of your things over there.” Em pointed to a tidy pile of boxes by the door. “I had to shoo Selma away once he told her you were here. You hadn’t had nearly enough sleep and we all know how you get without your sleep,” Emily finished, her eyes widening.

  Bits of scone flew onto her plate and Lily clapped her hands over her mouth mid laugh. One of Em’s nicknames for her when she hadn’t gotten enough sleep had been “holy terror.” The name usually got a laugh out of someone, though it was the first time that someone was Lily. Mountains of coursework, rowdy roommates, and the chaos of campus life had eradicated her adolescent quirk for ten hours of sleep. Though Lily saw no reason to inform anyone at Terramar of that. Better to catch up on sleep than be woken to feed the chickens.

  “Then Rena popped in,” Em continued, her eyebrows arched high over round hazel eyes. “I didn’t tell her what time you got home, but she guessed it to be earlier than she’d like. Said she’d call on you later today. Performed an inspection of your car before leaving, of course,” Em chortled, shaking her head as she turned back to the hash.

  “Of course she did,” Lily said, her tone unsurprised. “So when do we start prepping for tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow was summer solstice. Every year the residents of Terramar went all out, throwing an infamous party complete with carnival games, food, singing, and dancing. The affair required weeks of planning, most of which Rena took on. For Lily, summer solstice had always been the most magical day of the year. This year would be no exception, as the celebration fell on her twenty-first birthday.

  She would finally be allowed in the adult tent. The aged white dome was strictly for the twenty-one and over crowd and had been a source of extreme childhood puzzlement for Lily. One year she’d gone so far as to camp outside the tent and interrogate all who exited about the mysteries within. She made sure to pay special attention to anyone with rosy cheeks and loose limbs, courtesy of Hazel’s infamous mead. To her annoyance, and Rena’s great amusement, not one person slipped.

  Well, I’ll find out for myself this year, Lily thought, grinning into her teacup.

  “I was planning on stopping by Rena’s to see if she wanted any help.”

  “No!” Em cried, nearly sending the hash to the floor as she whirled to face Lily.

  Lily started and her knees hit the table painfully. What the hell was that? she wondered, searching Em’s face for an explanation.

  Em cleared her throat as she positioned the hash back on the burner. “If I recall, Rena was fixin’ to send you to town on errands. Selma and Richard will need help loadin’ the truck. What with all the wine and materials we ordered for the party.”

  “But I just drove across the country!” Lily whined, her voice high and childlike. “I don’t want to get in the car again.”

  Silence hung between them. Lily hunched over the table, green eyes glaring irritably, while Em did her best to ignore Lily’s gaze by tending the hash.

  Then it clicked: Rena was trying to surprise her! She’d arrived half a day early and Rena had probably been counting on the morning to finish the surprise. I’ll bet Rena told Em she needed me out of the commune for a few hours, Lily thought, leaning back in her chair.

  It was no secret she’d been looking forward to having her birthday at home for the first time in two years. Rena probably had something amazing up her sleeve, and here Lily was butting in.

  “Maybe Selma would let me pick out a bottle of birthday wine for tomorrow?” Lily flashed her impish grin in hopes of smoothing over her tantrum.

  “I’m sure she’ll help you pick out a nice one, darlin’,” Emily said, relief flooding her lined face.

  I should know better than to confront Em, Lily thought, chastising herself as guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. After escaping the confines of a hard life in Louisiana, Em preferred to avoid conflict. She was good at it, too. Lily had yet to see Em raise her voice or lash out at anyone, and here Lily was picking a fight her first day back. An apology was forming on Lily’s tongue when Em laid a plate before her and joined her at the table with an understanding smile. She’d already been forgiven.

  They ate in comfortable silence, both savoring the time to be with their thoughts before the start of the day. It was a morning ritual Lily had missed during her overstimulating college years.

  Their plates lay newly bare when a perfunctory knock shattered the calm. The front door flung open and the intruder barreled through the living room at astonishing speed, making a direct beeline for Lily.

  “Ay, mi corazón! You’re home!” Selma de Avila cried, engulfing Lily in a hug so tight she had trouble breathing.

  A deep, familiar laugh pierced the air, reminding Lily, as it always did, of a large gong she’d seen at a Buddhist temple. Richard threw Em a sheepish smile as he stepped through the door after Selma.

  “Sorry, ladies, it was impossible to hold her back a second longer.” His words were apologetic even if his eyes weren’t; they were full of nothing but love for the petite Spanish tornado wrapped around Lily’s torso. “Welcome home, sweetheart,” he added, squeezing Lily’s shoulder with a gentleness his work-worn hands did not imply.

  “Hola mamacita and Rich! It’s great to be home."

  Selma slackened her hold and took a half step back to look Lily over.

  I swear she hasn’t aged a day, Lily thought, studying Selma’s dewy, olive complexion and perfect white smile as Selma’s eyes raked over her. If I didn’t know better I wouldn’t put her a day over thirty-two.

  “Sooo—I hear you’re here to whisk me off and get me drunk?” Lily teased, excited to start her day, despite the semi-forceful eviction and hours on the road.

  “Nah. We just need all that youthful muscle to haul in wine. Old muscles atrophy something awful. Didn’t they teach you that at that fancy college of yours?” Richard said, his own muscles standing at attention as he poked Lily’s small bicep. “Franco said he’d open early so we can pick up the cases of sangiovese and dolcetto Rena ordered. Then we were thinking Double Mountain for lunch?”

  They had her. Lily’s breakfast wasn’t even settled in her stomach and already her mouth was watering at the thought of pizza.

  “I’ll get my bag,” Lily said, dashing out of the kitchen. She returned seconds later, a tiny crossbody slung over her shoulder, ready to take on the culinary delights of Hood River.

  “Y’all have fun now. Sel, could you pick me up a bottle of that Marchesi barbera I like? I can never remember which year,” Emily said, wiping her hands on a dish towel before bestowing a quick hug on Lily.

  Cramming three people in Margo, Richard’s old truck, was uncomfortable under the best conditions. Considering the number of items stuffed in the cab with them, Lily hailed it as half a miracle when the doors clicked shut. Three bags brimming with berries and jams to be delivered to various restaurants, shops, and wineries sat at Lily’s feet. Two bags rested in her lap, while two others perched precariously atop the headrest behind Lily and Selma. Selma sat in the middle, a bag full of Hazel’s fragrant soaps and lotions in her lap and another anchored between her feet. Nestled in the truck bed, wrapped in many blankets, lay one of Rena’s paintings commissioned by a local gallery owner.

  This is going to take hours, Lily thought, amused by all they had orche
strated to keep her busy.

  As they neared the highway Selma leaned across Lily to point out the latest glass ornaments to adorn the bedazzled fir tree.

  “See right there, the red one between the green one that looks like a watermelon and the rust brown one? Si, si, that one’s Richard’s.” Selma rolled her eyes as she pointed out the brown blob.

  Lily stifled a giggle. “Red, yellow, and orange?” she asked as an ornament resembling a ball of flame caught her eye.

  “Si—holy shit!”

  A bag of berries pushed into the back of Lily’s head as Richard hit the brakes. Catching the bag before it toppled, Lily righted it and scanned the road for the animal that must have jumped out in front of them.

  Instead, she saw a small, black sports car, sideways in the drive, mere inches from Richard’s bumper. A long trail of skid marks followed the car, a testament to the speed at which it had turned off the highway onto Terramar’s gravel drive. A woman with a dramatic A-line bob, bright red lips, and huge black sunglasses perched atop her head sat behind the wheel. She’d covered her eyes with her hands and her mouth was hanging open in a cartoonish “O” shape.

  Lily watched the woman peek between her fingers and sigh with relief. Lifting her hands in the universal sign of apology, she mouthed, “I’m sorry,” her eyes begging forgiveness.

  Lily started as the woman’s eyes met her own. Where do I know her from? Bryn Mawr? In town? A cross-country mom? No, she’s far too glamorous to be from around here. She looks like a celebrity.

  Inexplicably, the woman began to laugh. A small chuckle that grew into peals of hilarity so intense the woman rolled down her window to fan herself.

  “Someone’s got a case of the nerves,” Richard said, his eyes darting from Lily to the dark haired stranger as he leaned back in his seat.

  Lily barely heard him.

  Is she laughing at me? she wondered, before realizing how ridiculous the question was. It wasn’t like the woman could read her mind or anything. Rich is right, she’s probably one of those people who laugh when they’re nervous. Or she’s unhinged. Either way I wish she’d stop, she’s making me nervous.