Through the Tears (Sandy Cove Series Book 2)

by Rosemary Hines

  Regaining her focus, Michelle replied, “Fine. How about you?” She pulled her jacket on and reached for her umbrella.

  “Other than Tony driving me crazy, I’m great!”

  Michelle laughed as they walked together out to the car. Monica’s husband, Tony, worked construction and there were too many days when the weather kept him cooped up at home. According to Monica, those were the days when she was glad to have her job at the drugstore.

  “How’s that lawyer of yours?” her friend asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.

  “Actually, I wish I had your problem. Steve’s hardly ever home.”

  Monica nodded and smiled. “Let’s trade!” she suggested with a grin. She had a disarming way of making Michelle feel comfortable and special. Though several years older than Michelle, they clicked well as friends.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “How’s Tony’s mom?” Michelle asked as they approached the recreation center where the yoga class was held. Currently, Monica’s mother-in-law, Beth, was staying with Monica and Tony in the aftermath of her husband’s death.

  “She’s fine. Reads her Bible day and night. I’m not sure what she sees in those old stories, but they seem to comfort her.”

  Michelle just nodded, thinking about her grandparents and their solid Christian faith.

  As they walked into class, Bev Harrison, the instructor, nodded to them with an ethereal smile. Her gaze settled on Michelle. “Are you okay, dear?” she asked, her face showing concern.

  Michelle hedged for a moment or two, replying that she was fine. But after Bev persisted in her inquiry, she finally confessed the source of her anxiety.

  “Dreams are gifts, Michelle,” the teacher explained as Monica listened in. “You just need to understand their hidden messages. I know someone who can help you.”

  She handed Michelle a purple business card with silver lettering. The New World Bookstore. Starla Stein, Proprietor. The address was a local shopping center. “You’ll love Starla.” Bev smiled reassuringly and nodded as if to emphasize her point. Then she turned and walked toward the front mat.

  “Let me see that card,” Monica said, extending her hand. She looked it over and read the address. “This place is in the same strip mall where the drugstore is. I’ve been wanting to check it out. Maybe we can go this week.”

  “Okay,” Michelle replied, tucking the card into her pocket.

  By this time, the rest of the class had arrived. Bev welcomed everyone. As she began her instruction, they assumed their relaxation positions, closed their eyes, and listened to her lulling voice while she guided them down an imaginary path to a peaceful meadow.

  Michelle tried to relax, but a nagging sense of anxiety remained. Opening her eyes momentarily, she could see Bev’s weathered face, pulled tight by the braid in her waist-length gray hair. Though the older woman’s voice sounded peaceful, her body was rigid and her forehead was slightly furrowed. Everyone else seemed relaxed and almost in a trance.

  Quietly taking a deep breath, Michelle closed her eyes and forced herself to picture the meadow in her mind.

  It was five o’clock when Steve's car pulled into the garage. The creaking sound of the garage door caught Max's attention, and he began pacing back and forth in the kitchen waiting for Steve to come into the house. Meanwhile, Michelle carefully lifted the pizza from the oven and set it on the counter.

  The coffee table in the family room was already set with colorful quilted placemats, two new vanilla scented tapered candles in glass holders, and two crystal goblets. Michelle had started a fire in the fireplace and the room was aglow. Romantic classical guitar music played softly in the background as the rain danced outside the window.

  As Steve entered, Max darted over to greet him. Steve nearly lost his footing as the cat ran between his legs. “Whoa there, boy!”

  Michelle laughed. “Guess he’s been missing you today.”

  Setting his briefcase down, Steve squatted and scratched Max behind the ears, then stood and wrapped his arms around Michelle’s waist. "How was your day, babe?" he asked as he kissed her.

  "It was fine. I went to yoga with Monica."

  “Oh. That’s nice,” he replied as he released her and picked up the mail on the table.

  “No snide remarks about yoga?” she asked.

  “Nope.” He looked at her and smiled, then leaned over and gave her another lingering kiss. “Let’s eat. That pizza smells great!”

  Together they managed to carry the plates, salad, and drinks into the family room, Max on their heels.

  “Good job on the fire,” he commented, sounding proud of her newly acquired talent for starting a wood burning fire.

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  They settled down on the floor facing the fireplace, and chatted while they ate. Max made the most of the situation by curling up in a ball next to Steve. His warm, furry body and contented purring completed the family portrait.

  After they finished their dinner, Michelle leaned against Steve. His strong, but gentle, arm around her made her feel safe and loved. As she rested her head against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat. The steady, rhythmic sound soothed her and she closed her eyes.

  Golden flames in the fireplace were caressing the logs. A sweet fragrance from the vanilla candles mingled with the scent of burning wood. Lilting guitar music drifted through the air.

  Neither of them spoke. Michelle felt Steve shift positions. She looked up, her eyes meeting his. Steve slowly bent down and kissed Michelle.

  “I love you, babe,” he said in a husky voice.

  “I love you, too.” She reached over and cupped his face in her hands as she returned his kiss. Then wrapping her arms around his neck, she dissolved into his embrace.

  It was well after midnight when they finally climbed up the stairs to go to bed. Although she’d been relaxed and happy spending an intimate evening with Steve, Michelle could feel her chest tightening and her heart rate quickening as they left behind their love nest in the family room. With her nightmares becoming a regular occurrence, their bedroom was turning into more of a prison than a haven. She knew that Steve would quickly fall asleep, and she would be left alone, clinging to her covers as if to shield herself from her fears.

  Steve took her hand as they walked up the stairs. “Thanks for a great evening,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

  Michelle nodded and squeezed his hand in return, hoping her anxiety didn’t show.

  Max had long since retired to his favorite spot for the night—on the rocking chair in the corner of their bedroom. She smiled as she glanced at his curled up body.

  Steve was first in bed, and she hurried to get into her nightgown. The room felt chilly compared to the warmth of the fireplace they had enjoyed all evening. She slipped under the covers and snuggled up against her man. His warm body felt good, and she tried to relax.

  But her mind remained troubled. Just the act of closing her eyes brought up images of the dark tunnel that haunted her dreams.

  Tomorrow I’ll go see Bev’s friend. Maybe she can help me.

  The rain pelted against their bedroom window, and Michelle tried to picture a calm meadow in her mind as her nightly fears engulfed her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The sky was rapidly darkening as Michelle drove toward town the next morning, determined to get to the bottom of her nightmares after another restless night. She’d tried to call Monica to see if she would go with her, but the phone had gone directly to voicemail.

  Heavy, black clouds blanketed the coastline and an onshore wind was driving the storm straight toward Sandy Cove. Michelle glanced down at the passenger seat to reassure herself that her umbrella was in its usual resting place. Since their move, she had learned not to leave home without it. Daily Oregon “liquid sun,” as Steve referred to the climate.

  Pulling into the parking lot of the mini-mall, she maneuvered her car into the only spot she could see th
at was anywhere near the bookstore. She flipped open her cell phone and dialed Monica one more time. No answer. Looking toward the bookstore, a familiar anxiety began attaching itself to her heart. Grabbing her umbrella, she forced herself out of the car, locked the doors, and hurried toward her destination.

  The cold wind nipped at her face. Any apprehension she felt about approaching someone she didn’t know was rapidly replaced by an eagerness to get inside.

  Glancing into the window of The New World Bookstore, Michelle caught a glimpse of the statue of a hand holding a crystal globe. It was surrounded by a selection of books poised on black velvet material. Metallic silver and gold confetti stars were sprinkled over the entire display, giving it an ethereal aura. She paused momentarily under the overhang to read the titles.

  Natural Health Remedies,

  Eastern Thought,

  Yoga and Meditation,

  Divination, Tarot Cards & Prophecy,

  Spiritual Enlightenment,

  Dreams & The Subconscious Mind,

  New Age Therapies,

  Alternative Lifestyles,

  Ecology & Environmental Studies,

  Astrology, Reincarnation & Personal Evolution

  Pulling the door open, Michelle immediately noticed the fragrance of pine-scented incense. She could hear the sounds of flute and lyre music adding to the mystical ambiance of the softly lit bookstore.

  No one was at the counter, so she began to wander through the bookshelves and table displays. The store was larger than it appeared from the street, winding back through many rows of interestingly angled shelves and islands.

  Rounding one pyramid-shaped display, Michelle noticed an older woman in a long caftan-style dress perusing a large, heavy book. Her long gray hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail held in place by a leather-covered barrette. The woman looked up at her and smiled, wrinkle lines raying out in all directions from her light blue eyes.

  "Can I help you with something?" she asked.

  "I'm looking for someone named Starla," Michelle replied, glancing down at the business card she was clutching in her hand.

  "Look no further. How can I be of service to you?" the woman responded warmly as she stretched out her arms, a collection of gold and silver bangles jingling from her wrists.

  Michelle’s throat tightened, and she forced herself to swallow before speaking. “I’m in a yoga class taught by Bev Harrison. She told me you might be able to help me with some strange dreams I’ve been having lately. She said that you interpret dreams.”

  Her heart started racing. Suddenly she wondered if this whole idea was a mistake. I should have waited until Monica could come with me, she thought to herself.

  Starla reached out to gently touch Michelle's shoulder. "I'd be happy to help you, dear.” She exuded the same kind of friendliness that Bev did. Michelle willed herself to push aside her uneasiness.

  “What did you say your name was?”

  “Oh... it’s Michelle,” she stammered. “Sorry. I guess I forgot to introduce myself.”

  “No reason to be sorry, Michelle,” the woman replied reassuringly. “Why don't we sit down by the fire and have a cup of herbal tea? I just made a fresh pot." She took her hand and led her further back into the store.

  As they walked through rows of books, Michelle noticed the glow of a potbellied stove in the back corner of the bookstore. A cluster of three bistro tables, placed in a crescent shape, hugged the warm fire. Each table was draped with a tapestry print tablecloth in dark burgundy and gold. On the center table was an ornate Oriental teapot, with steam gently drifting from the spout.

  Starla released her hand and gestured to one of the chairs, inviting her to sit down. Disappearing momentarily, she reappeared with two black and gold mugs. Michelle gratefully accepted the soothing green tea poured for her, and still wondering about the wisdom of her decision, began to tell Starla about her dreams.

  "The main dream that I keep having is about a tunnel or passageway of some kind. It is always pretty much the same. I am trying to get to the end of the tunnel—to the light at the end. But I can never get there." Michelle raised her eyes, looking hopefully at the woman.

  "Hmmm..." Starla mused, staring off into space. "Tunnels are usually signs of transition. Are you going through some changes in your life right now?"

  "Well, my husband and I just recently moved up here from California. Steve is an attorney, and he was offered a partnership here in Sandy Cove when his uncle retired from the firm," she said.

  "Any other changes? How about spiritual developments?" Starla asked.

  “I'm not really into spiritual stuff," she replied. "I did start to take the yoga class a couple of months ago, but I don't know if you consider that to be spiritual."

  The woman smiled a knowing smile. "Yoga can be a very spiritual experience, dear. Perhaps your tunnel is the beginning of a journey to a new level of personal evolution."

  "What do you mean?" Michelle asked uneasily, reaching up under her hair and beginning to twist the broken strand.

  “Personal enlightenment, Michelle. For instance, the light at the end of that tunnel—it could represent your higher self, the part of you that is connected to the wisdom of the universe. As you move toward greater harmony within yourself, you become open to new forces of power and enlightenment.” She paused for a moment, and then continued.

  “It's called the Universal Consciousness, sort of like a big spiritual Internet that we link up to through the power of our minds.” She placed one multi-ringed hand on Michelle’s arm, and Michelle released the hair she had been twisting. “Just as you can access a huge amount of information through your computer modem, we are all able to access infinite wisdom by aligning ourselves with the consciousness of God through our higher selves."

  Michelle's thoughts reeled as she tried to make sense of what she heard. "But what does all of this have to do with my dreams?"

  The woman leaned closer. "Your dreams are telling me that you are moving from a place of childlike simplicity to a higher level of wisdom and enlightenment. You said that you are moving toward a light at the end of the tunnel. I believe that light is the God-consciousness we all seek.” She paused and then asked, “Do you have any religious background, Michelle?"

  "Well, my grandparents are Christians," she replied. “In fact, my grandfather was a pastor until some health issues require him to retire.”

  Starla nodded knowingly.

  "But we were not raised in any particular faith. My parents thought that we should make up our own minds about our beliefs."

  "A wise approach," the caftan-draped woman commended. "Traditional Christianity is so rigid. It lacks the potential for real spiritual exploration and growth."

  Michelle thought about her grandparents. “Traditional” was a good word to describe them, but “rigid” seemed a bit harsh. Starla did seem knowledgeable, though.

  The next thing she knew, she was being led back through the rows of books to a section about dreams and their meanings. Starla handed her a large dark green volume with gold lettering, Dreams: A Window into the Spirit, by Marty Gessler. The author's name caught her eye immediately. She flipped to the back flap of the book jacket to see if there was a photo.

  The face of the author stunned her. It seemed remarkably similar to the man who had tried to talk to her in the tunnel during her most recent dream. Marty. What did it all mean?

  "Is something wrong?" Starla asked.

  "No. No, not really," Michelle stammered. "I just thought that I recognized the author from somewhere."

  "It's unlikely, dear," the older woman replied. "Marty Gessler died over twenty years ago. He was really ahead of his time. A genius. His understanding of the dream process is uncanny. It’s clear that he was a highly-evolved individual."

  “He looks like someone from one of my dreams,” Michelle said hesitantly, her focus riveted on the photo.

  “Interesting,” Starla replied.

  Michelle could feel the wo
man studying her.

  “Maybe he’s reaching out to you, dear. Your answer might be in this book. Why don’t you read it and see?”

  Michelle nodded. She cradled the dark green volume to her chest. “I’ll take it.” Her hands were trembling, and she wanted to go home.

  As they approached the register at the front of the store, the door swung open, letting in a gust of cold air and an attractive young man in his early thirties. His features were similar to Steve’s—blond hair, blue eyes, and a slim build, but his face was more angular with a square jaw and chiseled nose. Michelle felt her cheeks flush as he made eye contact with her and flashed a smile.

  “Trevor!” Starla exclaimed joyfully. “So good to see you, darling! Meet my new friend, Michelle. Michelle, Trevor Wind. Counselor, teacher, and fellow searcher.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Michelle stammered.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he replied smoothly.

  Michelle dug through her purse nervously, searching for her wallet. She could feel Trevor’s eyes on her. What is the matter with me? I’m acting like a schoolgirl. Thanking Starla for her time, she quickly paid for the purchase and started out the door.

  “Michelle! Did you get one of these?” Trevor asked, holding out a flyer advertising a class on personal development and spiritual growth. His photo in the center of the layout indicated his position as instructor of the class.

  Michelle reached out and took the flyer. “Thanks,” she responded with a smile.

  “Hope to see you there!” he replied with a wink.

  Again Michelle felt her face flush. She turned away and walked out the door. The brisk air stung as she exited. She was still feeling unsettled from her encounter with Trevor. It reminded her a little of the first time she met Steve. That same rush.

  Trying to push the whole thing out of her mind, she remembered the reason for her trip to the bookstore and found herself eager to get home and look through her new book. Unlocking the car door and climbing in, she placed it on the passenger seat, buckled her seat belt, and drove out of the parking lot, completely forgetting about an intended stop at the drugstore.