Again, Sophie took a breath, deciding this time she would try another route, one she didn’t use too often. But at this point, anything was worth a shot. “You know you’re dead, right?”
The flames on the candles flickered wildly, then returned to normal as fast as they’d flickered. “Are you making the flames dance?” Sophie asked. Never had it taken so much effort to make contact. When nothing happened, Sophie blew out the candles.
“Why did you do that?” Toots asked. “We didn’t connect with anyone.”
Sophie got out of her chair and walked across the room, where she located the light switch and turned it on. A golden light radiated throughout the small room. “This isn’t the time. I’m trying too hard, and she isn’t ready. Something is holding her back.”
Ida cleared her throat. “And I promised Daniel you would make him change his mind.”
Sophie sat back down. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I offer no guarantees. We can try again tomorrow. That is if you all want to.”
“I’m game,” Toots said.
“I suppose I could, too. I may invite Wade, if that’s all right with you,” Mavis added.
“Sure, Wade is welcome, but whatever you do, don’t invite Robert. He’d scare the dead with his talk.”
They all laughed. Robert was none too outspoken about his feelings concerning the afterlife. His words, dead is dead, said it all. He was not a believer in Sophie’s ability to speak with the dearly departed, though he refused to say this to her. Personally, she knew he was frightened by the unknown, and that was okay. Not everyone had to agree with her on this particular subject.
“I don’t think we need to concern ourselves with Robert. He and Bernice are too busy with their recipes—they’re organizing them now. I heard him mention something about a cookbook the other day,” Mavis informed them.
“Maybe Phil could send a publisher his way,” Daniel said.
“Once my book is published, and if Robert is serious about publishing a cookbook, I’ll be happy to help in any way I can,” Phil replied.
Goebel cleared his throat. “I say we all go downstairs and have something to drink and check on those two rascals. This talk of death and recipes has made me thirsty.” He lifted his eyebrows up and down, Groucho Marx style.
“I’m with Goebel,” Daniel said, then practically leapt out of his chair for the door, Phil close behind him.
“Chicken shit,” Sophie said.
“Why do you always have to cuss? I swear, Sophia, you’ve got the filthiest mouth,” Ida said, following Daniel to the door.
“I like the shock effect; and you should know that, after more than fifty years. And you, my friend, have the filthiest mind, though I’m sure Daniel knows this. Firsthand.” She laughed, but her heart wasn’t really in the lighthearted, if somewhat ill-timed grumbling.
Ida had the good grace to keep whatever comeback she had to herself.
“Goebel made strawberry lemonade yesterday. It’s fantastic laced with a shot of vodka,” Sophie tossed out, as they all trailed behind her down the stairs.
“You’re becoming quite the little housewife,” Toots jokingly said to Goebel. “Sounds good to me, but I can only have a little. Phil is afraid I’ll become a drunkard.”
“I doubt that. Remember, I used to be married to one. When you start sucking down the mouthwash and cough syrup, then Phil will have something to worry about. Until then, I think you’re safe to have a drink once in a blue moon. Now, I, for one, am going to smoke before I do anything else. You with me?” Sophie asked Toots as soon as everyone was scattered around the veranda.
“Nasty old women,” Ida said.
Both Sophie and Toots gave her the bird.
Once they were away from the others, and had taken a few puffs from their smokes, Toots spoke, her tone serious. “So, why weren’t you able to contact this . . . woman tonight?”
“She is afraid,” Sophie said, a gust of white smoke coming out of her mouth with each word.
“Are you sure?” Toots asked.
Sophie gave a harsh laugh. “I’m never sure, Toots. We’re talking about dead people, ghosts, spirits, the afterlife, whatever term you want to use. I can’t ever be one hundred percent sure about any of it.”
Toots took a drag from her cigarette, then said, “Are you losing your touch?”
No, Sophie thought to herself, she wasn’t losing her touch. If anything, it was more honed than ever because she knew a portal had been opened, one that should’ve remained closed forever. And now it was up to her to seal it away again, before those she loved came to harm.
Chapter Six
“I think you hurt Toots’s feelings, Abs,” Chris said as he wiped creamed spinach from Amy’s face.
Abby airplane-fed Jonathan another spoonful of carrots. “No, I didn’t. Mom understands. She may not like it, though she would’ve told me if I hurt her feelings.” Jonathan tongued–chewed his favorite baby food, his little mouth remaining open like a little chick.
Once the twins started eating baby food, Abby and Chris rearranged the kitchen to accommodate two high chairs, their small kitchen table, plus the bench she’d bought around the time she found out she was pregnant. Amy held on to the edge of the bench when she toddled around the kitchen. Jonathan had yet to walk, but he crawled much faster than Amy could walk.
“Da! Da!” Amy cooed.
“Give me a second, little lady,” Chris said as he opened another jar of creamed spinach. “You’re sure it’s okay to give her this much spinach?” he asked Abby.
“If Popeye can eat it all the time, then I think it’s okay,” Abby joked. “Seriously, the pediatrician said it was fine, give them all the veggies they want. This stuff”—she nodded at the array of baby-food jars on the table—“is about to end. They’re old enough to eat people food now.”
Chris laughed. “They have the teeth for it, that’s for sure.”
Chester, who watched lazily while he reclined in his giant dog bed, barked. Abby and Chris laughed. Chester would not be left out.
Life had been one giant party since having the twins. Rarely did a day go by that Abby or Chris didn’t observe one milestone or another. Last week, Jonathan had tried to say Chester. It came out “Het-ter” instead, but they both knew what he was trying to say as his pudgy little arms were wrapped around the German shepherd as he spoke.
“Six teeth to be exact, right, Mr. Clay?” Abby teased Jonathan. “We’re not talking about steaks here. Just fresh fruit and soft veggies.” She wiped his mouth with her thumb.
They continued to feed the babies and talk. It was a rare moment to have the other’s undivided attention. “Did you tell Toots I was going out of town to that legal-aid conference? You know that she and the three G’s will move in so they can help you while I’m gone.” Chris volunteered his legal services one day a week at Charleston’s legal aid offices. Conference attendance was required if he wanted to continue, and they both agreed he should give back. It was the right thing to do.
Abby laughed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Their intentions are good, you know that,” Chris said.
“And I appreciate them. More than they know; I just don’t want to tell them that for fear of what might happen. Heck, knowing them, they’ll set up tents on the front lawn.” Abby kissed her son’s chubby cheek, then lifted him out of his high chair. “Between these two, their daddy, and the dogs, I’m busy, but I’m smart enough to know when to accept their help, too. Mom offered to sit with them one afternoon a week so I can pitch in where I’m needed with the animals.” Abby and Chris had turned the plantation’s former slave quarters into a facility for animals. As a nonprofit organization, Dogs Displaced by Disaster was already making a name for itself. After the fires in Colorado, and her mother’s opening the Canine Café, organizations from around the world were standing in line to volunteer their services and assist them. Abby had been so busy with the two babies she hadn’t devoted as much time to the
animals as she had originally planned. Now that Amy and Jonathan were somewhat mobile, an afternoon a week spent with their grandmother would be a welcome respite for both Abby and the kids.
“I like the idea,” Chris said, then he removed Amy from her high chair. “Someone needs a bath,” he said when he saw the dark green spinach in Amy’s blond hair. “Her hair needs to be washed, too.”
“And you’re telling this to me, why?” Abby asked, heading upstairs, with Jonathan secured to her hip.
“Because Dad doesn’t like to wash hair,” Chris said, coming up behind her and resisting the urge to give her a pinch. “No, let me rephrase that. Dad is afraid he will get shampoo in his daughter’s big blue eyes.”
“Good one, Pops, but I’m no fool,” Abby said upon entering the nursery. “I know how my little girl squirms when her head is wet.”
Both Abby and Chris automatically placed a baby on his or her changing table, removing their carrot- and spinach-covered clothes. “What good are these things?” Chris asked as he tossed Amy’s bib into the clothes hamper next to the table.
“I think you’re supposed to wipe their mouths with them. Whatever their intended purpose, these two have most definitely defied it.”
“Here, you take this young lady while I run their bath.” Chris handed Amy to Abby, who once again had Jonathan tucked against her hip. “Think you can handle two at a time?” Chris teased as he passed the baby to her.
“Hey, watch your mouth! I can handle two babies—you and Chester. And Mom. Sophie, too.” Abby glanced uneasily over her shoulder, though what she expected to find, she had no clue. Must be mentioning Sophie’s name. She’d had an unusual experience at Sophie’s house the other day. She wanted to tell Chris but feared she would come off as overprotective and downright weird if she brought the incident up. Maybe later.
“Okay, okay, I get the message. I’m gonna run the water while I’m ahead,” Chris tossed over his shoulder. Abby watched him, still amazed that this beautiful man was actually her husband. Handsome as ever, his faded jeans tight in all the right places, the black T-shirt he wore outlining his muscular chest. Barefoot, hair tousled in a sexy, messed-up way, he was completely opposite of the entertainment attorney she’d known in Los Angeles who wore tailored suits and handmade Italian leather shoes. She felt a jolt of desire as she watched him walk down the hallway. She smiled when he stopped and did a quick butt wiggle before entering the bathroom.
“I saw that!”
“Good,” he called out. “It was meant for you.”
“Amy and Jonathan saw it, too,” she shouted as she made her way down the hall. Inside the bathroom Chris was stooped over the tub. “You’re lucky I’ve got two squirmy babies in my arms; otherwise, I think I just might kick that butt I’m staring at.”
“I dare you,” Chris said as he adjusted the water temperature, filling the large Jacuzzi tub with a couple inches of water before placing the collapsible baby baths in the tub. Ida had purchased these for her, and Abby thought they were an odd gift. Boon Naked they were called. Now that the twins were old enough to use the tub instead of the kitchen sink, they had become her most-used baby-shower item.
“Okay, here is number one.” Abby held Amy out so Chris could put her in the secure bath ring. “And coming in close behind is number two,” she said, as he took Jonathan from her.
As soon as they were settled in the bath, Abby sat on the side of the tub and watched her most precious cargo. Chester had followed them upstairs, and now he was sitting just outside the door while they bathed the twins.
They kicked their feet in the air, sending water everywhere, another added assurance that Chester would stay put. The big shepherd didn’t like water. Amy was not the biggest fan of water either. Jonathan, on the other hand, was the next Michael Phelps. He adored the water, kicking and splashing his tiny hands and feet around as if he were training for the perfect breaststroke. “Let’s give him swimming lessons as soon as he walks. Something tells me this little man is gonna do big things in the water.” The words were no more out of her mouth than Jonathan decided to pee.
“Oh!” Abby said when she felt the warm urine hit her leg.
Chris doubled over laughing. “Now that’s my son.”
Abby laughed, too. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you two planned this.”
“How do you know that we didn’t?” Chris asked.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be the first one to agree with you—this kid is smarter than average. And yes, I know all mothers say this about their children, but in his case, it’s actually true. However, I don’t think he’s quite as clever as his father seems to think. Not yet anyway. Right, Amy?” When she heard her name, Amy grinned and made all kinds of happy sounds, then kicked at the water, sending it splashing all over Chris’s shirt.
Abby and Chris looked at each other, then burst out in peals of laughter.
“I’m not so sure about these two,” Chris said. “I think they both know just exactly what they’re doing to Mom and Dad.”
“Yep, I think they do. Now, you two little tricksters,” Abby said as she leaned over to drain the bathwater. “We’re gonna do this all over again. Can’t have my kids smelling like pee.”
“You are the best mom,” Chris said, amazed at her constant patience with the two.
“I know that,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“Now, let’s finish bathing them so I can change. I don’t want to smell like pee either.”
For the next ten minutes Abby lathered up the two soft, squirmy babies with baby soap and made a game of rinsing them off, so much so that both were laughing out loud. Then, while they were still laughing, she made faces at them while Chris gently wet their carrot- and spinach-covered heads. “Keep it up, Dad, you’re doing just fine,” Abby said, then continued to make funny faces at the pair so they wouldn’t focus on their wet heads.
Five minutes later, Abby took Amy, and Chris took Jonathan back to the nursery, where they powdered and diapered them before slipping their pajamas on. Chester followed them around like a shadow. Abby wasn’t sure if it was out of jealously or protection. She suspected it was a bit of both.
Once they were ready for bed, they went to the master bedroom, where Grandmother Toots had insisted she use the antique rocking chair that Abby herself was rocked in. Her mother had searched the entire East Coast and found another matching rocker, telling Abby that she would thank her later. Abby had, and still continued to do so. After changing into a clean pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt, she rocked Amy, while Chris took Jonathan. In a matter of minutes, the two one-year-olds were sound asleep. Abby didn’t put them in bed right away as she enjoyed just looking at them, when they were quiet and all hers. She knew, because her mother told her this almost on a daily basis, that they would be grown and on their own before she knew it and to cherish every minute that she could. Abby had no problem following her mother’s advice. It was pure joy to watch them.
“You look like you’re a million miles away,” Chris said, keeping his voice very quiet so as not to startle the twins.
“I was just thinking about when they leave home, moments like this will never happen again. I want to enjoy them as much as possible and not waste a single minute.”
“I think you’re doing just that.”
Abby smiled, leaning her head back against the chair. “I am.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.
“I was at Sophie and Goebel’s the other day,” Abby said out of the blue. “The day you were at Daniel’s office. She wanted to see the twins, and I needed to get out of the house, so we went over for a while.”
She wasn’t sure how to go about telling Chris what had happened, but it was about Sophie, so really, she thought, Chris would understand. “When we were there, Sophie was showing me around, all the remodeling stuff. They’re really turning that place into a showpiece.”
“I already know all about this, Abs.
What gives?”
“It’s nothing really. I feel stupid even mentioning it, but it was Sophie’s house. Anyway, she was showing me the séance room. Mom gave her that antique table, and I think she just wanted to show it to me. I was holding Amy, and Sophie carried Jonathan.” Abby waved her free hand in the air. “It’s probably nothing, but the twins seemed to . . . I don’t know. They acted strange, like they were seeing something that wasn’t really there. I watched them, their eyes as they appeared to follow something around in the room. I didn’t see anything, and Sophie says she didn’t either, but then she rushed me out of the room so fast, I felt like she didn’t want me in there. Is that crazy or what?”
“No, not coming from Sophie. There’s more, isn’t there?”
She nodded. “As soon as we were at the top of the staircase, I felt an incredible blast of cold. I’m talking icy, North-Pole cold.”
“You were at Sophie’s. Anything paranormal going on there, or has she mentioned this to you?”
“No, but that’s not what is bothering me. The twins started screaming, not crying, but screaming. There were no tears. They acted like they were . . . frightened. I swear, it sounds beyond crazy, but I know they were terrified.” Abby shivered at the memory, hating that her children had felt true terror, and at such a young age. It had been bothering her ever since, and she just had to tell someone.
“What did Sophie say or do when they started screaming?”
“That’s just it. As you know full well, normally nothing fazes Sophie, but that wasn’t the case. She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me down the stairs so fast I almost tripped and fell. I was kind of pissed that she would do that, with both of us carrying the kids.”
“Did you say anything to her about it?” Chris asked, concern etching his face.
“No. She didn’t give me a chance. She practically tossed us out the door. I didn’t even get a chance to say hi to Goebel.”
“Have you discussed this with your mother?” Chris asked her.
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