by Sam Cheever
When I got into my house I locked my doors and climbed into bed, barely stopping to remove my shoes before pulling the covers up to my chin and succumbing to the misery that wanted to swamp me.
I’d give myself a couple of days to mourn. Then I would need to pull myself together. The following week was the Valentine’s Ball. I needed to have myself pulled together by then. If I didn’t it was going to be an ugly night.
Then I caught myself. With Bion out of my life, it was going to be an ugly night no matter what. I pulled myself into the fetal position and let my emotions swamp me. There was no one around to witness my total collapse. So I let it all go.
It wasn’t a pretty sight.
*
When I emerged from my home two days later I was feeling a bit better. A couple of hours of ice packs and some special remedies I’d once been lucky enough to get from a goddess on Olympus who’d had more than her share of love life mishaps had done the trick with my swollen eyes and face and I looked almost Cupid-like again.
On the outside I looked normal. But my insides were strained mush.
I pulled the long, zippered dress bag through the door behind me and, sticking my chin into the air, stalked purposefully toward my car. Flinging the bag into the backseat, I closed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat.
I started the car and pulled out of my driveway, thoughts of beautiful dresses and ruined balls rushing through my mind even as I tried to squelch them. Pure, unadulterated self-preservation kept thoughts of Bion buried for the moment. In comparison, the depressing thoughts that were running across my mind like a bad movie reel were soothing.
I pulled up to the front of the exclusive shop where Bion and I had purchased the beautiful white ball gown and jumped out of the car before my emotions could get the better of me. I stalked into the shop, hauling the dress behind me like a forgotten banner.
The woman at the front desk smiled at me after glancing at the bag I’d thrown over my shoulder. “Can I help you?”
I flung the bag over the counter. “Yes. I want to return this.”
The pretty young woman reached for the bag and zipped it open. I kept my eyes straight ahead, knowing that if I looked at the beautiful gown again I’d burst into tears. My control was perched on the head of a very small pin and wobbled dangerously with every reminder…every memory.
“Ooooh, I remember this dress. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. I know someone who would love this dress.” She looked up at me with bright, happy eyes, obviously completely clueless as to my fragile mental state.
I tried to give her a small smile in answer but my mouth just wouldn’t bend. “I just want to return it please.”
“Daphne?”
My shoulders stiffened and my heart thudded once, twice and a third time—hard—in my chest. I closed my eyes and prayed she’d go away.
“Daphne? Is that you? How are you feeling? Your office told me you were really sick.”
I opened my eyes and expelled the breath I’d been holding as quietly as I could. Then I forced myself to turn around. “Hello, Ms. Pence.”
The elegant woman smiled. “I thought we’d agreed to a first-name basis. After all, you are the woman who helped me find the love of my life.”
My entire body convulsed in a shudder.
Dema Pence reached out a perfectly manicured hand as if to catch me when I pitched forward onto my face. “Are you all right? You look very pale.”
I nodded. “I’m fine. I just have some residual weakness from my…illness.”
She nodded. “The flu can be a nasty business. I’ve been lucky to have been born with good genes. I rarely get sick.”
Bully for you, I thought uncharitably. I forced myself to smile. “What brings you to this part of town?”
Although it was a very nice shop, Dema Pence’s usual shopping haunts were far on the other side of town, where the ultra-rich plunked down millions of dollars every year for handmade clothing in designer styles. I’d never in a hundred years expected to run into her at the shop where we both faced off.
“Bion suggested I come here. He said they have a fabulous selection.”
Another shudder racked me. “I see…well, it was nice seeing you…”
I lost her. Her beautiful face turned as she spotted my dress, which the young clerk had removed from its bag and was hanging on a stand nearby. “Oh my god! That is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen!”
The clerk turned to her with a smile. “I was going to bring it back to you. I knew you’d like it, Ms. Pence.”
Panic filled me. It was suddenly very important to me not to allow the woman to have my dress. She’d already stolen my man, I’d be damned if she’d have my dress as well.
“I’m sorry!” I blurted out. The young saleswoman and Dema Pence both turned to look at me. “I’ve decided to keep it.”
The young woman standing by the dress frowned at me. “But you said you wanted to return it and Ms. Pence would like to try it on.”
I shrugged. “I’ve changed my mind.” I turned to Dema Pence. “I’m sorry. But the dress has sentimental value to me. I’ve just realized I can’t part with it.”
Dema Pence’s eyes met mine and held for an intense moment. I could see the intelligence there and began to suspect she understood my feelings all too well. Then she just smiled at me and touched my arm. “I understand. I don’t blame you for keeping it then. I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with something that’s equally stunning for the Valentine’s Ball.”
My mind registered the clerk’s angry jerking movements as she stuffed my dress back into its bag. But my emotions swirled around me like a rabid, bitter wind. The Valentine’s Ball…she was going to the ball with Bion. I suddenly felt a bit faint and grabbed the counter for support.
Dema Pence’s flawless face swam in front of me and I could see her lush, perfect mouth moving but I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the roaring in my ears. The edges of my vision were turning gray and I knew I had to pull myself together before I hit the ground.
I shook my head and pulled air into my lungs, feeling the gray pulling back away from my vision. When my head finally cleared and the roaring receded I looked at her and smiled, “It was nice seeing you again, Dema.” I grabbed the dress bag, which was lying across the counter again, and hurried out of the store.
I scurried to my car and threw the bag into the backseat again. Then I slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door behind me, locking it immediately. I sat there for several minutes, my eyes closed and my head back and focused on just breathing normally. I was so glad I wouldn’t have to attend the Valentine’s Ball on Thursday. I had all my clients scheduled for earlier in the day.
When I was reaching for my keys I suddenly remembered I’d promised Christian that I’d handle his two couples at the ball. Panic brought blood into my face and made my heart thud painfully in my chest. Reaching for my purse, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Christian’s office.
To my surprise Becky answered his line.
“Becky! Hi, it’s Daphne. Is Christian around?”
“No, I’m sorry Daphne, he’s been called back to Olympus unexpectedly.”
“He what!” I realized with horror that my voice had achieved an uncomfortable shrieking tenor.
Becky said nothing for a moment, the silence seemed to cruelly accentuate my shriek. Then she spoke as if talking to a mental deficient. “His mother needed him. It seems she’s going through another relationship crisis with Zeus.”
“Shit!”
“Is there something I can help you with?”
“When will he be back?”
“I’m not sure but we’ve distributed his workload among all of the Cupids. He thought it might be awhile.”
“I need someone to take two of his clients on Thursday night.”
“Ooh, that might be a problem. Between losing you and Christian, everyone’s overbooked to the max. I’d hate to ask anyone to take o
n any more work.”
Hope crashed around my feet. “Just two more clients?”
“They’re all booked for fourteen hours on Thursday and Friday. And I don’t have anyone who’s even close to that end of town during the ball. I’m sorry, Daphne, but I’m afraid you’ll have to cover those two yourself. You can handle two ceremonies, can’t you?” There was a hint of annoyance in the woman’s voice. If I hadn’t been in a full-blown panic I wouldn’t have blamed her. I’m sure I looked like a first-class wimp to her at that point.
“Sure,” I said in a raspy voice filled with terror. “I’ll handle those two clients. Thanks, Becky.” I hung up and folded toward the steering wheel.
I rested my forehead on the hot leather encasing the wheel and closed my eyes. My world had crashed around me and I’d barely survived it. Now, when I was hardly healed from the first crash, I was going to be confronted by the reality of Bion’s loss face-to-face, in the most painful and direct way.
It appeared I was going to the ball. Alone. And I would have to negotiate the painful appearance with minimal loss of dignity and emotional equilibrium.
An impossible task, I knew.
Seeing Bion with that woman would tear me into little pieces.
But worse, seeing him look at me with disinterested eyes would bring me to my knees.
I’d be lucky to survive the encounter.
Chapter Ten
Memories and Dreams
Clotho was waiting for me when I got home. I cringed when I opened the front door and walked in to find her sitting at my kitchen counter, eating the last slice of chocolate cake. She looked up when I entered.
“Daphne. You look like hell.”
She was a hag today, which was just as well. Her wrinkled, ratty appearance fit my mood so much better than her gorgeous young goddess persona would have.
“Thanks,” I said as cheerfully as I could, which wasn’t cheerful at all. I threw the dress bag over the back of a chair and went to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. I leaned back against the counter, sipping my icy cold water and watching Clotho scarf down the cake. Waiting.
Eventually she shoved the last bite into her mouth and looked up at me, smiling to show me chocolate-coated teeth. “I was just wondering how you were holding up.”
I shrugged. “I’ve had better days…weeks…years.”
She stared at me through rheumy eyes of a faded gray color. Behind the faded aspect the occasional spark of intelligence and latent power could be seen if you looked closely enough. Like many things in life, the hag persona of the Fates was pure mask. Used by them, I was convinced, to cause the unaware to underestimate them. I never underestimated them. I knew exactly what they were at all times.
And what they were capable of.
“So your human has gone missing?”
I forced my face to remain clear of emotion. My voice was a more difficult lion to tame. “Y…” I cleared my throat, “Yes.”
She nodded. “How are you dealing with that?”
I shrugged. “Not so well. But I’ll survive.”
She nodded again. “Of course you will. But what if you have a choice in the matter?”
Hope surged through me and I quickly and ruthlessly shoved it down. I knew better than to fall for one of the Fates’ traps. They spun them as easily as they breathed and were pitiless in their use of them.
When one lives forever one apparently will do anything, to anybody, to avoid boredom.
I shrugged. “You and I both know I have no choices here. You told me yourself you saw no human in my thread.”
She nodded, peering at me for a long time. Then she stood up and smoothed down the ratty, wrinkled tunic she wore over what looked like a long burlap skirt. Chocolate clung to the wrinkles in her thin lips. “I’m going to do something I’ve never done before, Daphne. I’m going to show you your thread.”
I shook my head, terror filling my eyes. Nothing good could come of seeing the thread of your life. “I don’t want to see it.”
She ignored me as only a hag of Fate can do. Lifting her hands, she began writing symbols in the air, her gnarled-looking old fingers agile and almost graceful as she built the magic on the air between us.
I wanted to run away and hide. In fact I did take a step toward the door but somehow I couldn’t do it. Curiosity clutched at me and wouldn’t let me go.
A shimmering line of magic began to form itself at the tips of the fingers of her right hand and, as she continued to describe the magic in the air, built toward her left hand. Along the shimmering length of it knots and ridges began to appear at random. These areas pulsed with energy and sparked with color and I realized they represented the highlights of my life.
I watched, fascinated as Clotho continued to build my life in the air between us, all the while praying that I’d find the strength to walk away before she revealed its secrets to me.
The line had grown to fill the space between her hands when she stopped building it and frowned thoughtfully. Then she licked the tip of her finger and tapped the air once, twice and three times at the end of the thread before looking at me.
My life hung there between us, waiting for her to illuminate it for me.
“That’s it?” I asked her in a voice that barely had the strength to rise above a whisper.
She shook her head. “I didn’t scribe the whole thing. There is no need and I wouldn’t want you to bear the burden of what will be until the end.”
I closed my eyes with relief. Nodding. “Thank you for that at least.”
She nodded. “What I have provided is enough.”
She touched the first knot in the thread and a picture popped out of my parents and me when I was an infant. My mother was holding me in her lap and staring down at me with a wide, happy smile on her face. My father stood behind her, looking at us both with contentment.
Tears filled my eyes at the picture.
Clotho’s gnarled finger moved along the thread, easily passing some ridges by and hesitating over others until she found one she thought should be illuminated and she tapped it.
I was about sixteen years old in this one. And I was trotting down the steps of the Building of Judgment, where all the laws were made and carried out on Olympus. I was clerking for Zeus at the time and was very full of myself.
I remembered that time and smiled. Suddenly something rammed into me and the papers I had been carrying flew everywhere. I tumbled sideways and would have fallen down the steps if a strong hand hadn’t reached out to grab my arm.
My papers flew everywhere and tears of panic filled my eyes, making me angry at being caught crying over such a small thing.
I looked up into a handsome face and swiped at my tears, preparing to scream at him for ramming into me, but just then the trees in the courtyard rang out with Zeus’ summons and I had to turn back.
Leaving the papers strewn over the steps, I ran back up the stairs, immediately forgetting the clumsy young god who’d bumped into me.
Clotho flicked a finger and that segment of my past disappeared. She ran the finger down the thread until she found a larger knot and tapped it.
My mother was crying.
I was in my early twenties and leaving Olympus, coming to Earth to join Cupid’s Arrow. I was excited but afraid to show her because she seemed to be in so much pain over my leaving.
It was time for me to leave and I was nearly vibrating with the need to go but my mother had hold of my hands and I could tell she wanted to say something to me. She seemed to be struggling with how to start.
Finally I said, “I have to go, Mother.”
She looked at me and nodded, tears flowing down her cheeks to drip onto our joined hands. She reached down and ran a fingertip through the moisture and held it up in front of my face. “My tears protect you and make you strong. Ever will my heart follow you in your journey. You were meant for greater things than would seem possible to you now. In your hardest hour remember this…within you runs the blood of go
ds, it is special blood as you are special. Never doubt it. Never doubt yourself.”
Then she touched my forehead with the tear-tipped finger and warmth suffused me, originating from the moisture on my forehead.
I walked away from my mother then. Heading toward my new life away from her. But her words would always stay with me. Though I never really understood them until right at that moment, when a hag of Fate showed them to me again on my life thread.
The next place Clotho tapped on my thread was near the end of the segment she’d drawn for me. It was a knot of some size and sparkled brighter than the others. But as she tapped it the knot simply pulsed and gave off bright white light, never opening to show me what it contained.
“Why won’t it open?”
Clotho looked at me, her masked gaze showing glimpses of its true fire as she pursed thin lips still caked with frosting. “It is still playing out, this knot. Sometimes it happens this way. The knot won’t reveal its contents until the occasion it represents has found a conclusion.” She stared at it, frowning.
“But something’s different about this knot, isn’t it, Clotho?”
She threw me a sharp glance. “What makes you say that?”
I shrugged. “You. You’re not at all happy with the fact that this knot won’t reveal its contents, are you?”
She flicked a gnarled finger at the thread and it disappeared with a pop. The smell of roses momentarily filled the air around me and then dissipated like the thread. “Normally it wouldn’t be a problem but in this case I am concerned, yes.”
“Why?”
She took a step closer to me and peered hard into my face, making me wish I could step back without losing some of the hard-won respect I enjoyed from the Fates. I held my ground and Clotho lifted that gnarled finger and touched my forehead with it, in the same spot where my mother had infused me with the power of her tears all those years ago.
I felt an insidious probing power and forced myself not to jerk away from it. Clotho probed my mind for several seconds and then withdrew the finger and stepped back.