by Judith Post
“I wonder. I’ll have to ask Gabe.”
“He’s new, an apprentice. I’d ask Hannah.”
Thea was going to ask more, but a car pulled in her mother’s drive.
“Mom!” Kate said.
Thea waited for her Grandma Doreen to get settled at the dining room table--the bar stools at the island were too high for her--before she said, “Do you know if ghosts can enter weaving studios, uninvited?”
Doreen shrugged, her usual answer.
“Have you ever heard of a ghost in a studio?” Thea persisted.
“How would I know?” Doreen asked. “I never was a very good weaver. Just ask anyone. They all knew that Olive got all the talent in our family. If she hadn’t married such an idiot, she’d still be alive, and I wouldn’t have had to take her place.” Another shrug. “But I did what I had to do. I did my duty.”
Thea had heard that line from Doreen her entire life. That was Doreen’s motto for a person’s purpose on earth--“I did my duty.” Thea glanced at her mother and her grandmother and wondered how two women could be so different. But then she realized that her mother was probably so strong because her grandmother had been so weak.
“I’ll always remember the day your mom turned eighteen and I could give the job to her,” Doreen said. “It wasn’t my burden anymore.”
“You’re a trooper, Mom,” Kate said. “You live each day to its smallest.”
“If you had the life I lived…,” Doreen began.
Thea had heard it before. She rose from the table and said, “Gotta go. I promised Josh that I’d weave a life map for him. Thanks for the help, Mom, and it was nice seeing you, Grandma.”
“Good decision, making a life map for Josh,” Kate said. She looked at her mom. “I bet you’re hungry. Did you make yourself any breakfast this morning?”
“The pans are so heavy anymore,” Doreen began, “what with my arthritis.”
Thea gave her a grandmother a hug and let herself out.
On her drive home, she thought about Rachel. Was that how Rachel felt about becoming a weaver, that it was her duty?
Chapter 12
Thea climbed the steps to her studio. For the first time in years, she stopped to really look at it. Who had entered her haven, her secret place?
The barn ceiling, with its heavy wooden joists, soared above her. Small beams ran from wall to wall, row upon row, until they reached the very top. Bookmarks dangled on both sides of each beam, arranged by year of birth. Each year was arranged by horoscope signs, starting with Aries at the left end of the beam to Pisces at the far right. Thousands of bookmarks. How could anyone but a weaver find the exact one he was looking for?
She walked into the center of the big, open room and closed her eyes. She thought about Joshua, and his bookmark came to her. It was a beautiful creation, not linear in shape, but formed with soft, curving edges. Its colors were soft and muted, too. A delicate pattern for a gentle soul.
She held it to the light and studied it. Each color of thread symbolized a particular aspect of a person’s life. At the very beginning, when Joshua was born, a sage green thread--Josh’s personal color--twined tightly with a warm sunset orange--her own personal color. Gabe’s happy yellow thread braided in and out of their tight bond.
Thea carried the bookmark across the room to her larger loom. She hung the bookmark beside it, to study it, as she began to work. Josh’s life map would be about two feet by four feet when it was finished.
The first three years of Joshua’s life flew beneath her fingers with a cheerful mix of sage green, orange, and yellow. When he was three, a blue thread wove itself into the bookmark--Rachel’s birth and aura. The colors continued to combine in happy patterns until Joshua was six. Then the green tangled in a small knot.
Thea frowned, remembering. That was the year that Joshua joined Little League and sat on the bench most of the summer. After that, the green and yellow splashed back and forth while Gabe practiced baseball with his son every night. The next summer, Josh’s happy pattern returned. He’d learned to dig in and became a good, solid player.
At nine, Joshua’s green had a series of tiny knots and tangles. Thea nodded. Those were years when Joshua was struggling at school. He was a good student, and enjoyed his teachers, but math was a challenge. This time, the green and orange threads did an elaborate twist and turn as Thea tutored him every night.
At twelve, there was a bigger knot. That was the year that Joshua fell in love with Cecily Wharton, and she teased him mercilessly day after day. Finally, Rachel cornered Cecily in the cafeteria and told her that her aura was turning ugly brown, and Cecily stayed as far away from Josh as possible. Thea smiled, remembering.
She looked out the loft window and saw that the sun was sinking low enough that Hannah would be home from school soon. She was staying later than usual this week, practicing with the school choir for the end of year program, and Cynthia was bringing her home. Cynthia’s son, Toby, was in the choir, too.
“Did you find anything yet?”
Thea jumped and turned to see Gabe standing behind her. “Don’t do that. You almost scared me to death.”
“Sorry. I forgot I don’t make any noise.” He looked at Josh’s weaving. “How far are you?”
“Twelve and Cecily Wharton.”
Gabe grinned. “I was so proud of Rachel that year.”
“Me, too.” Thea frowned. “Since you’re here, I need to know. Can you come into the studio when I’m not here?”
“I don’t know. I never tried.”
“Try when I leave,” Thea said, “after I lock up.”
“Why?”
Thea told him about her mother’s theory. “How many ghosts are hanging around Emerald Hills?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen any but Aggie. You should ask Hannah.”
Thea glanced out the window again. No sign of Cynthia or Hannah. “Is Aggie happy?”
“Watching Hannah? You bet. Beau’s not so happy she stayed behind, but it’s no big deal really. Time feels different when you’re dead.”
“You’re not dead. You’re alive.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Your parents and Annabel are coming for supper tonight,” Thea said. “I’d better get started in the kitchen. Do you think you’ll be able to stop in and see them?”
“I might be able to see them, but I don’t think they’ll be able to see me. And I don’t want to scare them. That would be awful for Mom, if I were some kind of strange light show.”
Thea nodded. “I’ve got to get busy. Try to get into my studio when I’m not here and it’s locked, okay? And ask Aggie about any ghosts who might have a grudge against you.”
“Will do. Will you have time to finish the life map tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll try.” And they both left.
Chapter 13
Gabe’s showing and funeral were combined into one awful day. Thea, Rachel, and Joshua, dressed in black, drove away from the shops and crossed the bridge into the residential area of town. They took their place in the line of cars for the procession to the grave, following the service. When they entered the funeral home, Muriel, David, and Annabel were already there.
“Where’s Hannah?” Muriel asked.
“Nancy’s bringing her later. She’s at the restaurant, setting tables for the noon crowd.”
“Good place for her,” David said. He came to hug Rachel and Joshua. “How are you two doing?”
While they talked, Thea went to gaze at Gabe in his casket. It was odd, looking at the shell of the man whose spirit visited her most days. Emotions warred in her--loss, anger that he’d been taken from her, sadness, joy that he’d stayed with her. Annabel tugged on Thea’s sleeve, interrupting her thoughts. “That boy used to live with me, didn’t he?”
“He’s Gabe,” Thea said, “your grandson.”
“Gabe.” Annabel studied his still face. She glanced at photos of him, from Thea’s albums, that were tilted on a sid
e table. “Muriel’s Gabe and your Gabe. Our Gabe. Wish the truck had hit me.” Tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks. “What use am I anymore? I’m sad now, but I won’t even remember he’s gone tomorrow. I don’t remember anything.”
Thea bent to hug her. “Don’t think about leaving any too soon. We’d all miss you.”
“Why?”
“There’s no one else like you,” Thea said.
Annabel laughed. “A little firecracker, that’s what my Huey used to call me.”
“It fits.” Thea stopped talking, though, frozen with shock when Melissa and Les Smith entered the chapel.
“She’s that snooty, little brat who always caused trouble, isn’t she?” Annabel asked, following Thea’s gaze.
“Worse,” Thea said. She didn’t go to greet Les, even though she liked him. Instead, she turned her back on him and started a conversation with Isak. She cringed when someone laid a hand on her shoulder. Turning, Les stood there. His other hand firmly held Melissa’s elbow. To comfort her, Thea wondered, or to keep her under control?
“I’m so sorry about Gabe.” His words were weighted with meaning. Les was a decent man. He squirmed uncomfortably, casting a sideways glance at his wife. Melissa smiled brightly at Thea and said, “Sorry about your loss. I hope you like the bouquet of flowers I sent more than you liked the last one.”
It was a challenge, Thea knew. Thea had refused her last offering, so Melissa was letting her know that there wasn’t much she could do about this one. “I don’t know. I haven’t looked.”
Thea was relieved when she saw Nancy enter the chapel with Hannah. They saw her, too, and started to cross the room to rescue her.
Melissa’s eyes narrowed, studying Thea. “You don’t look like the grief-stricken widow that I expected.”
“Why should she?” Hannah asked, coming to lean against Thea for comfort. “Uncle Gabe comes to visit her almost every day.”
Melissa’s face went white. “Gabe? How?”
“As a ghost, of course, just like my mom visits me.”
“He can’t.”
“Why not?” Hannah asked.
Melissa gripped Les’s arm. “Is that true?” she asked Thea.
“He came back to me after he died,” she explained. What she didn’t say was that it was a mixed blessing. Loving a ghost wasn’t the same as having the entire man.
Melissa turned shakily and pulled Les after her. “I have to go.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Hannah asked.
“She’s so jealous, she could choke.” Thea watched her rush from the room. Her throat filled with bile, choking on a bitterness she tried to push away. What a selfish bitch! The intensity of her feelings surprised her. Melissa still resented the fact that Gabe chose his wife over her.
Nancy, Cynthia, and Shari came to join her.
“The slut princess didn’t look happy,” Nancy said.
“Nancy told me about Gabe,” Shari said. “I think it’s too romantic for words, like Catherine and Heathcliff. No wonder Melissa’s bent out of shape.”
Cynthia took a deep breath. Dark circles cratered her eyes, and she looked more stressed than usual. “Are you okay?” she asked Thea.
“I’ve been better, but you look awful.”
“I am awful.” She looked at her three friends. “I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, but things keep moving in my house. I straighten up before I go to bed, and when I wake up the next morning, everything’s someplace else. Even the furniture. It’s driving me nuts.”
Hannah, who’d been listening silently so as not to call attention to herself, blurted out, “It must be the ghost.”
“Gabe’s ghost?” Cynthia asked.
Hannah wrinkled her nose. “Why would Gabe move furniture? Mom says there’s a new ghost around that she can feel, but it won’t show itself. She says it gives off a really weird energy.”
Thea shivered.
“Are you all right?” Nancy asked.
“I’m scared,” Thea said. She knew about weavings and life maps, but she didn’t know much about ghosts. And this ghost seemed especially malevolent. It unraveled bookmarks and moved furniture. A poltergeist? Suddenly, what she didn’t know seemed really important.
Chapter 14
Everyone went to Annabel’s house after the graveside service. The dining room table groaned under all of the food that people had carried in, and clots of friends and neighbors filled the house. It was a long afternoon, and Hannah and Cynthia’s son, Toby, went to the stream to play.
Thea sighed, thinking of muddy shoes and a stained Sunday School dress, but she didn’t stop Hannah. She wished she could join them. The living room was too warm with so many people crowded into it, and she was beginning to feel the return of a headache from fatigue.
When the last people took their leave, Thea looked at Muriel and David, Rachel and Isak, and Annabel and Joshua and saw the same emotional exhaustion written on their faces. “I’m too tired to talk anymore,” she said. “I need a break. I’ll come by to see you tomorrow.”
They nodded, grateful to put the day behind them.
“Do you want a ride, Mom?” Rachel asked.
Thea shook her head. “A walk will be nice.” She was following the brick sidewalk that bordered the stream when Hannah and Toby ran to her.
Just as she expected, Hannah was a sight. The skirt of her flowered dress was soaked, her lacy white socks covered in mud. And one white shoe was missing.
More surprising, Toby was almost as dirty as Hannah.
“Oh, boy, when I take you home, your mother’s going to shoot me,” Thea said.
Toby shook his blond head. He was a year younger than Hannah, but a head taller. Whereas Hannah had a solid build, Toby was thin and gangly, all legs and arms.
“Mom says that Hannah’s good for me,” he said. “She’s happy Hannah lets me hang around with her.”
Hannah smiled. “The boys at school were picking on Toby, but I took care of that.”
Thea remembered seeing her daughter knock down a boy at recess. It must have been in Toby’s defense. “You’re not getting in trouble, are you?”
“Me? Who’d mess with me?”
“I meant with your teachers.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “What’s new?”
Thea started to protest, then changed her mind. What was new? If Hannah was stopping bullies, Gabe would be proud of her. So was she.
They turned onto Brown Boulevard and walked toward Cynthia’s art gallery. Cynthia got the gallery when she and Randall divorced, and he got the mansion at the far edge of Emerald Hills near the winery. A parade of wealthy estates lined Vineyard Lane, and Randall’s was one of the more outstanding dwellings. Cynthia had settled herself and Toby on the third floor of the gallery, filling the white loft with its light wood floors with modern, black sofas and glass and chrome--a perfect backdrop for vivid paintings and dramatic sculptures.
Hannah and Toby stopped to stare at the luscious array of homemade candies in the window of Abby’s Chocolate Shop.
“Just one each?” Hannah begged. “Please, Thea?”
Hannah never called her “Mom.” How could she when her dead mother popped in and out of her life? It was fine with Thea. Whether it was because she was older and more mellow, or because she’d raised her two kids and realized that she never controlled their outcomes anyway--only contributed to them--Thea didn’t have the need for discipline with Hannah that she had with Rachel and Josh. She frowned now, prolonging their agony.
A dimple formed in Hannah’s cheek. “You want to say yes, don’t you?”
“Why not?” Thea said. She pulled a five-dollar bill from her purse. Abby’s candy wasn’t cheap. “One each.”
By the time she got them to Cynthia’s house, they were not only dirty, but their faces were smudged with chocolate.
Cynthia opened the door and put a hand to her throat. “My Lord! Straight to the shower with you.”
Toby accepted his fate graciously an
d disappeared without a word.
Thea looked at Cynthia’s haunted expression. Haunted--the exact, right word. “You okay?”
“No. When I got home from the funeral, I found this.” She led Thea to the back of the loft, to a tiny kitchenette. A small, framed painting lay on the countertop. Its canvas was slit to shreds.
A chill iced Thea’s veins. “Is that…?”
“The first painting I bought with my own money after I left Randall.”
“How…?”
Again Cynthia finished for her. “I don’t know. The alarm never went off for the gallery. The locks were all bolted.”
“I’m going to ask Aggie to stay with you,” Thea said. “Ghosts don’t need sleep. She can stand guard.”
The tenseness left Cynthia’s shoulders. “You’d do that for me?”
“We’re friends.”
On the walk home, Hannah took Thea’s hand and wrapped her fingers through hers. “Mom’s worried. She thinks the new spirit is a girl.”
“She can tell?” Thea asked.
“Something about the vibes. She said that there’s something sad that stays in the air after the girl’s been there, sort of pathetic, as if she’s lost or scared.”
“Your mom can’t reach her?”
“She’s tried. She wants to help her, but Mom says the girl’s too shy. It’s almost as if she’s hiding.”
“Will you find your mom and ask her to stay with Cynthia?”
“Easy as pie,” Hannah said. “It’s a done deal.”
They walked the rest of the way home in silence. When they opened the door to the cottage, the telephone was ringing. Thea hurried to answer it.
“Thea? Shari. Sorry to bother you after the day you’ve had, but I’m worried about Tillie. She’s so uncomfortable, and she doesn’t look good.”
Tillie. Thea had forgotten about her with everything else that was happening in her life. She forced herself to stillness and listened to the ripples in the air. “Tomorrow,” she told Shari. “She’ll have her baby sometime tomorrow.”