Mystical Love

by Rachel James

“Will I see you in Aspen, Jasper?”

  He clasped her fingers.

  “In the summer. I’ll bring the twins. We’ll picnic at Hollow Lake.”

  “It’s a deal,” Janice replied. With a last toss of her head, she started down the walkway toward the gangplank. As she walked, she steeled herself against the one final goodbye she was dreading. Adrian. Silently she prayed he was already on board — as eager to ignore her as she was to ignore him. She couldn’t face a formal goodbye. If she did, she knew she’d break down, perhaps even blurt out she hadn’t meant the hateful words she had hurled at him in the gallery. And that she couldn’t stand. She had to break clean from the weekend. No matter what.

  Glancing ahead, a suffocating sensation twisted her lungs. She wasn’t going to be lucky. Adrian stood at the entrance ramp, Ginger by his side. They were awaiting her arrival, and for a moment, Janice slowed her steps. Then realizing how foolish she must appear, she picked up her gait again.

  Rubbing her bandaged wrist nervously, Janice sensed the air of isolation that hung about Adrian’s slouched shoulders. His black hair gleamed in the dazzling sunlight and she wondered if she would forever be haunted by his good looks. Haunted. She gave a shiver. Not the best word to use in the situation. Three steps from the ramp, Janice cast another prayer heavenward, asking for strength and pleading for Adrian to stay silent.

  Toes touching the gangplank, Janice knew God didn’t intend to make their parting easy. Adrian stepped forward, touching her coat sleeve tentatively.

  “Janice, I … ”

  She didn’t let him start. She cut him off in mid-word.

  “Get away from me, Adrian. The sight of you makes me sick.”

  The words jarred him and, though he managed to pretend indifference, Janice knew she had wounded him to the quick. Gathering his dignity gallantly around him, he touched his forehead to her in a mock salute. In a flash, he had vaulted from the pier to the deck of the ferry, ignoring the small walkway. He disappeared quickly among the stacks of crates and packages and bodies and Janice felt a stab of guilt bury itself deep within her chest. That had been a mean thing to say. He hadn’t deserved it. She hadn’t realized she harbored such a cruel streak when it came to him. She wanted to hurt him thoroughly and she had. Janice felt no surprise when Ginger’s thoughts echoed her own.

  “Why didn’t you just plunge a knife through his heart? It would’ve been kinder.” Janice’s gaze pierced the small distance between them. Ginger was angry with her, deeply angry. It showed in the purse of her lips. “That was too cruel,” she emphasized when Janice remained simply staring at her.

  “I know,” Janice finally admitted, “but it had to be done.”

  For a moment, Janice thought Ginger would understand her reasoning but her next words were far from sympathetic.

  “He cried over you, you know. Cold-hearted Adrian who never gives a damn about anybody but himself. He didn’t think I saw him but I did. He loves you desperately but he doesn’t know how to tell you.”

  Janice looked away. Dear God, how much more could she bear?

  “He’ll forget and go on,” was all she could manage to mutter. Ginger moved away at once, stepping onto the ramp, and then as if having an afterthought, she turned back again.

  “It shouldn’t be so easy for people to throw love away.”

  Their eyes caught and held for a brief instant and then Ginger whirled, leaving Janice to climb the ramp alone. Alone. The word echoed in her mind and sternly mocked her. She’d have a lifetime of alone thanks to her runaway tongue.

  Unexpected tears blocked her vision and Janice felt her toes hit the edge of the gangplank. Whoa, she cautioned herself. If she weren’t careful, she’d be having more than her wrist fixed at the hospital. Slipping her toes back onto solid board, she hopped the last yards onto the lower promenade. Immediately, she crossed to the stairwell and wound her way to the second level promenade, coming to rest when she reached the aft guardrail. Seconds later, the lurching vibration of revving engines rattled the flooring beneath her feet and she knew the ANNIE B’s departure was underway. A short horn blast confirmed the fact and with a stuttered creak, the ANNIE B scratched the wood pilings and began to backwater away from the mooring.

  Leaning over the railing, Janice spotted Lloyd and Jasper, who exchanged a brief wave with her and then left the dock, striding from the pier to the cliff stairwell. Following their path, Janice’s gaze shot ahead to the house at the top of the cliff wall. In time, she would heal and so would Adrian. Hadn’t her father always said not to worry, that time was the wind that blew down the corridor slamming all the doors? Yes, but life had taught her that, once slammed, the door could never be reopened. Ginger was right. It shouldn’t be so easy to throw love away.

  Clinging to the rail, Janice closed her eyes. She had seen too much in the last twenty four hours, experienced too many painful scenes. And now she was going to face a lightless future without Adrian. Or try to. Suddenly, Janice realized she was beyond pain and caring. From here on out, she would simply hang onto survival.

  Chapter 29

  SIX MONTHS LATER — MACEDONIA, MAINE

  Lloyd studied the portrait before him. How many more nights would he find himself leaving the solace of his bedroom to stand before the canvas? For six months, the painting had haunted him. For six months, he had awakened from deep sleep only to seek out the portrait. He didn’t think it had anything special to impart to him. No, all that needed to be said was etched in the lines of the loving couple portrayed. Lisette had found freedom at last — in the arms of her true love. It was there in the excited light of her eyes and the shared embrace. Lloyd could almost feel the baron’s uneven breathing on Lisette’s cheek as he held her close. He could almost feel the tangible bond between them. The invisible heat of attraction they shared.

  A creak on the floor board signaled a new visitor to the room.

  “Have I disturbed you again, Dora?” he asked, swinging his gaze to find the woman in question plowing across the room toward him. Her sniff was dutiful as she reached him and a glass was shoved into his hand proving it.

  “Warm milk. It will make you sleep,” she stated tartly.

  Lloyd hid a smile at the matronly cosseting. He took a quick sip of the liquid.

  “You’re a prig, Dora. Have I ever told you that?”

  “At least six times a day. Don’t make no matter to me. You don’t mean it. It’s just your way.”

  Lloyd swatted the thin line of white coating his upper lip.

  “Yes, it’s my way.”

  Dora scanned the portrait before them.

  “You never did tell me which room you found this beautiful, old portrait in,” she commented.

  “Don’t remember,” Lloyd evaded.

  Her tell-tale sniff boomed again and Lloyd suddenly grinned as her ample bosom twisted toward him.

  “You’re too young to have bats in your belfry, Lloyd Marks! Of course you remember. You just don’t choose to tell me.”

  Lloyd let out a boyish laugh and then drained the remaining swirl of milk. He loved nothing better than making Dora squirm with curiosity. Flinging out his free arm, he tossed it carelessly across her shoulders and spun them both around.

  “I have told you the truth, Dora, plenty of times. The portrait was left by a ghost.”

  She wrenched away from him, throwing her head back and placing her hand on her hips in defiance.

  “Still standing by that story, are you? Well, you may have fooled everyone else around here with that mumbo-jumbo, but I’m not fooled. You found that painting in the old wing. Plain as the nose on my face! Ghosts that leave pictures indeed! Fairy tale mush!”

  Lloyd laughed again, scooping her fingers from her hips and depositing the empty glass into her palm. Quickly, he placed his hands on the small of her back and nudged her for
ward.

  “I never could fool you one bit, could I, Dora? You’re absolutely right. I found the painting in the old wing attic.”

  “Just so,” she commented, sailing out the door in front of him.

  Stopping at the light switch, Lloyd cast a backward glance at the portrait. “Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy gets girl back. The very best of fairy tale endings, eh, Dora?”

  Her fractured snort said it all.

  “Bats in the belfry, that’s what!”

  Lloyd flicked the light switch, giving a wry smile. No, not bats, ghosts. Ghosts in the belfry.

  Chapter 30

  SIX MONTHS LATER — MADSEN, OHIO

  The rectory door clanged shut on its hinges and Jasper gave a small sigh of relief. The last of the congregation had finally dispersed and he had the rest of his Sunday all to himself. What to do first? Easy. He’d call the twins and finalize their travel plans to Aspen. Decide which of them would pick up and pay for the tickets.

  For some inexplicable reason, Jasper felt an unexpected surge of excitement at the prospect of seeing Janice Kelly again. He didn’t know why he should. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t talked. They had talked incessantly over the last six months, each swapping stories of their childrens’ busy lives. He was lucky, he knew. Lucky to have her for a friend. Her frequent calls to the rectory had sustained him in his first, lonely months without Muriel.

  Adrian had called at first, too, offered support, but over the last two months, the calls had dwindled and finally stopped. Had Adrian’s world taken a further downward spiral? He thought so. Should he invade Adrian’s time-line and check on his health? No, that would be an invasion, an intrusion of his soul. Better to offer up a prayer of encouragement instead.

  Strolling up the aisle, he did so, and then selfishly he added a second prayer, one of matchmaking. Janice and Adrian belonged together, like he and Muriel — he’d stake his collar on it. There had to be a way to bring them together. He’d think on it. He’d pray on it. And in a moment of quiet thought, he’d slip his mind away and ask Muriel’s opinion on it. Muree! Funny, how effortlessly his thoughts flew to her these days. And funny, how he had always thought death would part them forever. It hadn’t. She was still here, sharing parts of his everyday life.

  Jasper’s eye caught the cross etched in the stained glass window above the altar mantle. For a moment, he studied the bank of rainbow prisms. She hadn’t left him, not his Muree. She was always there, just around the corners of his mind. And she listened. And she believed in him. She always would.

  Making a hasty sign of the cross and a half-genuflect, he started up the altar steps to the sacristy, disrobing as he went. Passing beneath the stained glass etching, he sent up a small hello to Muriel. A moment later, the air stirred above his head and Jasper smiled knowingly. That was his Muree. She never could let him have the last word on anything.

  Chapter 31

  SIX MONTHS LATER — LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

  “God damn it, Adrian, how can you live like this?”

  The question was edged with apparent disgust and Adrian winced as the overhead light snapped on, interrupting his melancholy brooding. The glaring light filled the room and instantly set up his hackles. He wished Todd would go to hell. And if he didn’t know how to get there, he’d damn well tell him how. Was it daybreak already?

  Eyeballs smarting from lack of sleep, Adrian shaded his lids, but he knew the motion was more a reflex action to keep Todd from seeing the haggard, desolate light in his eyes. He heard approaching footsteps on the carpet and then caught sight of familiar patent and leather shoe tips. A second later, Todd’s snarl rolled contemptuously over him.

  “Jesus, Adrian! You look frigging anorexic!”

  “And a gracious good morning to you, too.” Adrian cajoled sweetly. He thought his cool response disguised his simmering rage adequately.

  “As if it were morning!” Todd snorted. The shoe tips disappeared from view and Adrian lifted his head, following Todd’s path to the dining room table. Once there, his friend deposited an assortment of letters and a small package on the tabletop. “It’s ten o’clock at night, if that means anything to you,” he stated, sarcastically.

  Tucking himself deeper into the chair, Adrian ignored the barb and went back to his brooding. Or tried to. Todd’s repeated oaths as he snatched up discarded clothing from the floor kept Adrian from fully concentrating on his melancholy. Soon, the shoe tips appeared in his line of vision again.

  “Jesus, Adrian, why don’t you just blow your brains out and be done with it?”

  “Go away, Todd,” Adrian snarled, nastily.

  When the shoe tips remained, Adrian lifted his head. A second later, he was glad that he had. If he hadn’t, the circle of keys heading for his face might’ve done some major damage to his right eye. He dodged the attack, deflecting the keys away with a swat. They ricocheted off the back of the chair and dropped to the carpet with barely a sound.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Todd growled at him. “You’d like to be left alone to rot.” Adrian offered no comment, trying to keep a lid on his simmering temper. “How long since you ate anything?” The question was so unexpected and asked with such real concern, Adrian tried to answer it. He couldn’t remember how long, so he hedged.

  “A couple of days.”

  “You want something now?”

  “No.” The syllable was more swallowed than spoken.

  “Jesus, Adrian, if you’re this crazy in love with the woman, go tell her. If she’s all the things Ginger says she is, she won’t turn you away.”

  “Screw Ginger!”

  A chiding growl reverberated around his head and Adrian knew he was straining his friendship with Todd to the max.

  “That’s nice talk,” Todd replied. “Did you learn that from the baron?”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Ah, that’s better. Now, will you call the woman and ask her to marry you or shall I?” Adrian made no comment, choosing to let a cold silence become his answer. “She lives in Aspen, right?”

  Todd moved away, striding toward the desk phone. Adrian was out of his chair in a flash, barreling after his receding back. He’d tear the son of bitch’s heart out. See if he didn’t.

  He wasn’t quite fast enough though, or else Todd sensed his coming, but Adrian found himself plowing into Todd’s chest and bouncing off it as he whirled about. Feet planted firmly, fists clenched, they stood glaring at one another, each silently daring the other. Suddenly, Todd’s face split into a lopsided grin.

  “My God, you fucker, you’re scared! You’re afraid she’ll turn you down.” He snorted out a laugh and Adrian knew the snort was one of pure glee. He fought down an impulse to ram his fist through the nearest object.

  “Of course, she’ll turn me down,” he snapped. “She should. I broke her wrist, raped her!”

  Todd’s grin died instantly.

  “Neither of you knows that for sure. You were both caught up in some damn fugue. Why are you putting yourself through this hell?”

  Why? He couldn’t do anything else, Adrian knew.

  “You’ll never understand, Todd,” he quipped, suddenly deflating. Just as suddenly, he realized how sick in mind and body he had become. He drifted to the window and opened the shades. A glittering array of marquee lights lit the night skyline. He stared at the crowd of passers-by walking the strip. Todd thought he felt guilty. He didn’t. No, the pain stemmed from his inability to remember what making love to Janice had been like. He had had one shot at loving her and he didn’t remember it and the knowledge gnawed at him like a cancer. He hoped he had been a giving lover, riding the currents of desire clear to the top, finally exploding in simultaneous fulfillment? He hoped her face had glowed in the aftermath of climax and she had whispered she loved him. He hoped … that’s an awful lot of ho
pes, Adrian, old buddy.

  Adrian felt a light touch on his shoulder but didn’t turn.

  “I do understand, Adrian. And for what it’s worth, I believe that making love was a mutual consent — for both of you. Forget your damn pride. Fly to Aspen and talk to Janice. Get down on your knees if you have to and beg her to marry you. Better yet, camp on her doorstep till she says yes.”

  “It’s not that easy, Todd. She’s got a daughter.”

  “For Christ’s sake! You’re a frigging magician! Kids are crazy about magicians. Everyone knows that.”

  For the first time in months, Adrian found himself grinning. Todd was a sappy son of a bitch — a true closet romantic. Hiding his grin, Adrian turned from the window and gave Todd a brief nod.

  “I’ll think on it.”

  “And that’s all you’ll ever do on it,” Todd replied in disgust. He spun on his heel and strode back to the table. Snatching up a banded stack of papers, he began to riffle through them one by one. “Jesus! How long since you answered mail or paid any bills?”

  “Two … three months.”

  Todd gave a soulful sigh.

  “More like four or five. You better come take a look at these and tell me what needs paying. I’m assuming you’re not ready to work again?”

  “No!” Adrian’s snarl was loud and emphatic.

  “Okay, okay. Simmer down. I’ll call Jilly and tell her to turn down the Stardust offer.”

  Adrian grunted, whirling from the window and joining Todd at the table. Flipping through a second banded stack, his heart plummeted. There was an appalling number of e-mails. Was he that popular with audiences? Did they miss his performances that much?

  Resigned to the fact that perhaps they did, Adrian sat down and glanced at the first e-mail. He read a few words and then pitched it. A second followed the first, then a third. Perusing the fourth, his scowl became fierce. Damn teeny boppers. Nothing but stage door groupies and star wannabes writing him. Were they the only ones enamored of him? Didn’t anyone his own age enjoy his performances? He picked up another sheet, read a few lines, and pitched it.