Bobby sat up and eyed the door suspiciously for a second while he made up his mind. He looked back to Brigit to see whether she might be pulling his leg. When he realized she wasn’t, he nodded enthusiastically. Still holding the child’s hand, Brigit stood and walked with him to the pantry door. While the door had been purposely built with the house, Brigit had felt the energy that was vibrating behind it when she had first taken Bobby Hooper’s hand. It was his portal, his entry to the eternal sing-along.
When they were near the door, Brigit put her ear to the door. Playing ‘monkey-see-monkey-do’, Bobby did the same. A broad smile lifted his chubby cheeks as the music drifted through the wood to his ears. The lady had been right. Everybody was singing and having a good time.
“Can you hear it Bobby? Can you hear the music?” She looked down and saw him nod excitedly. Brigit pulled away from the door and slowly opened it. Bobby looked up at her. A light of gratitude was dancing in his brown eyes.
“Bobby Hooper,” Brigit said. “May you find eternal peace, little man.”
Bobby wasted no more time in the kitchen of the house he had last seen his parents in. The music from the room behind the pantry door was blaring, calling him to join in. He flashed a broad grin at the tall lady in black and darted through the door. Brigit closed it gently behind him. A smile was burning across her face as she left the small house.
Brigit returned directly to the office. John was sorting through a pile of portfolios at his desk when she sat down across from him. He was still hunting for candidates, she guessed. He glanced up at her briefly.
“You’re back, finally,” he said. He sounded bored or annoyed, Brigit was unsure.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “Did you know London Bridge could be so repetitive?” she asked, deciding to ignore the tone of his remark. John looked up at her and was surprised by the smile on her face.
“No, I was unaware. I was never much of a singer as a child, I’m afraid. How were your assignments?”
"The first one was interesting,” Brigit began. She explained the tactic of breaking Matthew-Matilda Swenson from the time loop he was on by letting him tell his story. John listened intently, nodding his head occasionally to express his approval for what she had done.
“Very good,” he finally said. “How about the second one? Bobby Hooper?”
“That,” Brigit sighed, “was a lot of fun.”
12: Moving On
The next few weeks passed quickly. Brigit and John were set to their tasks of reaping those who had waited the longest to pass to the other side. A few were unruly, but Brigit found that she was becoming more comfortable with her instincts and somewhat used to the possibility of a fight. There had been a couple of close calls with the darker spirits, but in the end, Brigit had managed to get them through the appropriate door and on to face their fates.
The season continued its change during those few weeks. The air grew colder; the leaves had long left their posts on the trees. Brigit occasionally took a few minutes to look around her. She noted the changes in the scenery and began to guess as to the day of the month. Her internal clock was going silent. All she had to judge time by now was Maggie’s leaving for work in the morning and the setting sun. Seconds had become minutes to Brigit, and minutes had become hours.
Her home time was spent in silent observation. Maggie’s grief was still present, but Brigit could see that it was becoming thinner with each passing day. As each layer of grief was buried, Maggie would remove some small reminder of their life together. A picture here, a keepsake there… Brigit watched her lover take the items and store them in a small box in the hall closet. As each object was removed from its resting place, Brigit felt a piece of her heart crack with the sadness of it. When she lay down beside Maggie in the darkness, she reminded herself to stand strong in her promise to wait for Maggie. It didn’t matter that the physical reminders of their love were slowly vanishing. Brigit was keeping her promise. Maggie would keep the memory.
Mama Dee came and went as frequently as ever. Although she never verbally expressed why, Brigit watched her friend as she fussed over Maggie and engaged her in conversation at the dinner table. When the two women would erupt into laughter, Brigit laughed with them. When they grew silent because they had come too close to a memory of Brigit, Brigit would sigh and gently touch each of them on the shoulder. She could feel their warmth under her hand. They felt only the shiver that ran through them from where she had touched them.
November passed into December by the turning of the calendar on the wall in the kitchen. Brigit had stood beside Maggie as she had taken this inane chore under task and they both sighed deeply at the reminder that Christmas was coming soon. It would be the first holiday that a tree was not dragged home and hours spent decorating it. It would be the first holiday that the special presents weren’t exchanged at midnight and the rest of them exchanged at dawn. It would be the first Christmas that their rituals would not be observed. Brigit had reached out to take Maggie’s hand, hoping to reassure her in some small measure that she was still present; but Maggie turned and walked away. The opening and closing of the front door let Brigit know that Maggie had gone for the day.
It was two weeks later when Brigit found Maggie turning a new page. She had just come in from the office and was walking through the quiet house in search of Maggie when there was a knock at the door. Brigit stopped as Maggie came dashing from the bedroom trying to affix an earring to her ear lobe and actually passed through her on the way to the door. The shock of that sensation froze Brigit where she stood. The warm waves from Maggie’s energy washed through her from head to toe to fingertip. When she turned to look at her partner, she realized Maggie was dressed for a night on the town – for a date…
Maggie had opened the door and found Mama Dee standing on the other side. Her graying hair was covered in the knit cap she had made for herself earlier in the fall. A matching scarf was wound around her neck up to her nose.
“Oh, it’s you, Mama. Come in,” Maggie said as she still struggled with the earring.
“You sure do look nice, child. Where is this girl taking you?” Mama Dee asked as she began to unwind the scarf from her neck. Brigit stood in the door way watching, resisting the spark of anger that was trying to ignite in her.
“To Duchevney’s on Sixth Avenue. She’s said she would be here by now,” Maggie said frustratedly.
“I hope she has a good reason for being late,” Mama Dee said with a disapproving shake of her head.
“I’m sure she does, Mama,” Maggie sighed as she finally managed to clasp the earring. She stood up straight and turned for her friend to see. “Do I really look okay?” Maggie asked.
Brigit bit her lip as she looked at her partner. Maggie was wearing the black velvet cocktail dress Brigit had picked out for her the year before on the occasion of her own company Christmas party. Maggie had looked as hot in it then as she did now. The spark of anger was starting to turn somewhat green as she let her eyes wander down the silhouette of Maggie’s body.
“You look beautiful. Now, tell me again how you met this girl?” Mama Dee instructed as she sank onto the sofa and pulled the knit cap from her grey head. Little curls sprang free at various points on her crown.
“I met her on the bus three weeks ago. She works downtown for a law firm – I forget the name. It’s long, that’s all I can tell you right now. Anyway, she’s made junior partner and she’s extremely intelligent. We’ve managed to talk every morning on our way to work. I like her, Mama…” Maggie measured her words as she said them. Brigit wondered why Maggie would have to think about what she was saying. It seemed as if she might be unsure of what she was really feeling. At least, that was Brigit’s interpretation of it.
Mama Dee was about to say something more when a second knock sounded at the door. Maggie jumped to open it. On the other side, a huge bouquet of flowers masked the face of the person holding them. When they were lowered to reveal the woman presenting them, Brigit i
mmediately decided she didn’t like her. Quickly, she glanced at Mama Dee to assess her opinion of the stranger. Mama Dee, ever the lady, gave nothing away.
“Sorry I’m late,” the woman said as she stepped into the living room.
She was wearing a black pin-striped power-suit, the teal silk shirt beneath its coat opened to the top line of her cleavage. Her dark brown hair had been swept up into a tight French curl and secured by an ebony clasp. Brigit looked to the floor to see that the woman was wearing black velveteen pumps on her feet. It was a costume she probably donned everyday, Brigit mused as she returned her gaze to the new woman’s face. To make it worse, she had a broad, charming smile on her face. Brigit took a couple of steps forward and stood just behind Maggie, as if to reassert her invisible presence in the room.
“These are beautiful!” Maggie gushed as she examined the bouquet that had been passed to her.
“I found them on my way here. I had the limo driver circle the block so I could buy them for you, hence, the reason I am late.” the stranger bragged. Brigit rolled her eyes and looked to Mama Dee for support. Mama Dee only stood from where she was sitting, reminding Maggie that she was still in the room.
“Oh, Mama, this is Lorena Rubens. Lorena, this is Mama Dee. She’s my neighbor and dearest friend,” Brigit introduced. Lorena Rubens strode toward Mama Dee with her hand outstretched in greeting. Mama Dee took it and they shook; but Brigit noticed the hesitation in Mama Dee’s actions. Brigit felt a sudden surge of relief. Mama Dee didn’t like her either. Good, Brigit thought, it’s not just me…
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Dee,” Lorena said.
“And you,” Mama replied politely.
“I better put these in some water,” Maggie said.
“I’ll take care of that for you, child,” Mama Dee offered. She took the large bouquet from Maggie and turned to face Lorena Rubens. “Where are you taking my only daughter?”
Maggie and Lorena laughed lightly at Mama’s question. Brigit and Mama Dee remained silent in waiting for the response.
“I’ve made eight o’clock reservations at Duchevney’s on Sixth Avenue. Would you care to join us?” Lorena offered. “They have a wonderful menu. The chef is a dear friend of mine.”
Brigit rolled her eyes again. More bragging. It was not an endearing quality.
“Oh no,” Mama replied. “You all go and have a good time.”
“Thank you, Mama,” Maggie said as she opened the hall closet and pulled out the black silk wrap Brigit had also picked out to go with the cocktail dress. “I’ll call you when I get home.”
“Alright then,” Mama Dee said as she received a kiss on the cheek from Maggie.
“It was lovely to meet you, Miss Dee,” Lorena Rubens said as she opened the door for Maggie and waited for her to pass. Mama Dee made no reply as she watched the door close behind the two younger women. Finally, a deep sigh escaped the little old woman and she turned to make her way to the kitchen. Brigit followed closely, her anger and jealousy erupting.
“How could you let her do this?” Brigit asked as she followed her friend.
“She’s got to move on, I suppose,” Mama muttered.
Brigit stopped. Had Mama Dee heard her?
“The girl can’t spend the rest of her life alone. It’s a shame, really. She was so happy with Brigit,” Mama went on. Brigit’s shoulders slumped and she sank against the wall. “But this girl here, she looks like maybe she can take care of Maggie. That’s what she needs. Someone to watch over her.”
“I’m watching over her,” Brigit replied.
“She needs someone to hold her and love her,” Mama added.
“I hold her every night and I love her for all eternity,” Brigit put in.
Brigit watched Mama Dee take a large vase from the cupboard and fill it with water. Then, she set to the task of removing the bouquet from the cellophane wrapper and trimming the stems before arranging the bouquet in the vase. A stubborn silence had over come Mama Dee as Brigit watched. When the bouquet was set, Mama Dee swept the trimmings into a pile on the counter before scooping them up in her plump hands and forcefully dumping them in the garbage. Mama was angry; but at what, Brigit had no clue.
Carefully, Mama set the vase on the kitchen table so Maggie would see it when she came in to make her coffee in the morning. She paused after setting it down. She could feel the cold spot to her left and she knew she wasn’t alone. Mama had felt it before and she had the inclination that it was a familiar spirit that moved through the rooms of the apartment Maggie had shared with Brigit. Once, Mama Dee had thought, she had even heard the familiar voice. It was a feeling she had possessed since the night of the accident – a gift she had carried silently since childhood. She could feel and hear the unseen and, lately, it had been growing stronger than ever. Slowly, Mama turned away and walked toward the hall. She paused in the doorway and looked back.
Brigit met her gaze.
“You should keep a close eye on your girl,” Mama Dee instructed to the empty room before turning around again and leaving the apartment.
“I will, Mama,” Brigit whispered in a promise.
Her attention turned to the bouquet Mama Dee had set beside her. Slowly, she extended her hand to touch the bright red rose that was on the verge of blooming. As her fingertip neared the edge of the outermost petal, it began to deepen in color. In seconds, it had turned black. Brigit pulled her hand away and eyed the result.
She had never done anything malicious. She had never really fought with Maggie about anything. There had been spats, but nothing that had never gone unresolved before going to bed…. Yet, the feelings inside her now were churning like a bubbling brew in a large cauldron over a roaring fire. How could Maggie move on so quickly after ten years of happiness? Slowly, Brigit extended her finger to the large white Calla Lily at the top of the bouquet. She watched as it slowly turned brown and withered under her touch.
That was enough, she decided. She was sure she could find other ways to make her point, to let Maggie know she was unhappy with the situation. She couldn’t entirely kill something that had brought a genuine smile to her partner’s face – no matter who it had come from. Brigit stood and walked to the front room. As she sank into Maggie’s reading chair, she thought about Mama Dee’s advice. She would keep a closer eye on Maggie. Something about Lorena Rubens didn’t set right with Brigit. She couldn’t put her finger on it yet, but she couldn’t do anything to stop what had been started either. Not yet, anyway…
13: A Wish to Forget
Another two weeks passed quickly, bringing Christmas at hand. Brigit had gone on about her business at the firm, reaping as many as she could between the times the sun rose and the sun set. John expressed his surprise that she had taken on such a heavy work load so quickly. Brigit had only shrugged and picked up another pile of portfolios before walking out.
Things at home were progressing as well. Brigit had watched as Maggie came in from her date that night, a slight flush present in her cheeks that Brigit immediately recognized. It could have been the wine they had enjoyed over dinner, but Brigit heard the voice in her head telling her firmly that she knew it was something else. Lorena had asked to see Maggie to the door, but Maggie had only allowed the woman to kiss her on the sidewalk outside. Brigit had felt the tiniest measure of relief in that action. Perhaps Maggie was unsure after all…
Maggie had noticed the dead flowers in the bouquet the next morning. She had merely shrugged and plucked the two stems out to throw them away. Brigit’s effort had gone unrecognized and now lay in the garbage. She decided that she would have to work on another way of letting Maggie know her feelings.
Two nights later, Brigit had come home to find Maggie cooking dinner. The dining room table had been set for two and candles were lit. Soft jazz played through the speakers of the stereo in the office. Maggie was dressed casually, but not in her usual lounge pants and oversized t-shirt. She was entertaining and Brigit knew exactly who was coming to d
inner.
Brigit had stayed long enough to watch them eat and converse. Lorena did most of the talking describing her exaggerated adventures in the Swiss Alps and the huge corporations she had taken on in behalf of the underdogs of society. Brigit couldn’t help but roll her eyes when Lorena made a joke that was meant to impress Maggie. When Maggie stood to clear the table, Brigit’s anger was ignited by Lorena’s sudden move to catch Maggie by the hand.
“Dance with me,” she said as a slow ballad had begun to play on the station that Maggie had chosen.
“I don’t dance well,” Maggie answered, a quick blush rising to her cheeks.
“It’s simple. I’ll lead,” Lorena said as she stood. She pulled Maggie to the center of the living room and slipped her arms seductively about Maggie’s waist.
Brigit felt her fingernails biting into the cloth on the arm of the reading chair as she watched the scene unfolding. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t watch where the scene would end. Quickly, she jumped up and stormed to the door. With her anger at its height, she yanked the door open and slammed it behind her.
Maggie and Lorena both jumped at the sound of the slamming door. Maggie had felt the rush of wind that had swept past them before the noise had come. The energy within that wind was familiar. There had been a faint scent of French lavender on it. She had smelled it before, but she had thought it was just because Brigit had so recently been present in their apartment; but now… after so many weeks of Brigit’s absence… She began to shake with the fear it had awakened deep inside her.
“What the hell was that?” Lorena asked. Even though there was a tremble in her voice, she was trying to appear brave.
“Maybe it was a neighbor’s door,” Maggie suggested even though she had heard it clearly as her own front door. She was trying to suppress the shiver that had taken control of her, but it refused to go away. Even the weight of Lorena’s hand still on her waist gave her no reassurance.
Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross Page 10