Don't Stop Believing: Paranormal Women's Fiction (Midlife Mulligan Book 3)

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Don't Stop Believing: Paranormal Women's Fiction (Midlife Mulligan Book 3) Page 7

by Eve Langlais

I was done with the past. I didn’t want to see, but the magic wouldn’t let go. My back arched as more memories slammed into me.

  I was shown two generations before mine, when Grandma was a girl, playing on the beach. Then her mother. But that’s not all I was shown. When my family line was done, time rewound, and I was shown the lake through the ages.

  The glow on it appeared in sporadic bursts, spewing forth the monster, a real living creature, not a machine.

  Maddy chained and made captive. I sob as they whip her, cry as she bugles her torment. The proud beast turns into obedient captive, working for her tormentors until she died on the beach.

  Then time rewound again.

  Before her capture. I went backwards to a time when Maddy swam free, but only for a short while in each generation. Maddy would rise, feed, then slumber again, a hidden guardian to whatever hid in the bottom of the lake.

  Time continued to scroll, but I could no longer process the small details, not when bombarded by every single season with their freezes and thaws. The hundreds, then thousands of sunrises and sunsets. My mind filled. Expanded. And still more memories unspooled, covering the ones I had, wiping and writing over, then wiping and—

  Snap. The sudden severance of the spell had me gasping and blinking, before I fell face first into the snow.

  10

  I woke in my bed, the ceiling above familiar, the voice by my side unexpected but welcome.

  “About time you woke. I was getting worried.”

  “Darryl?” I tilted my head and almost moaned at the pain roiling through it. My stomach heaved, and I really hoped I wasn’t about to barf in Darryl’s lap. It could be a relationship breaker.

  He clasped my hand and leaned over me, all concern. “Of course, it’s me. I came as soon as Trish called me for help.”

  “Trish?” I frowned. “What happened?”

  “You tell me. When you weren’t answering your phone, she came by to find you. Said you were by the lake, passed out in the snow.”

  “I—” I didn’t actually remember what happened. Last I recalled I’d been going for a walk to clear my mind. “How did she find me?”

  “She didn’t. Apparently, when she opened the door, your cat lost its shit and ran out.”

  Of course, Trish bolted after Grisou, who knew his owner was injured and led her to me. I’d have to feed him extra special treats.

  “What were you doing by the lake?” he asked sharply.

  I blinked. Why did he sound mad? Then it hit me. Because he cared. “I wasn’t doing anything.” I had a sudden flash of Arnie the actor. He had that movie he did that I loved. Total…

  I paused as I recalled trying to cast a spell. Had I overdone it with my magic? Judging by the throb in my head, I had magic hangover.

  But it did have one positive. Look who hovered over me.

  Darryl gripped my hand. “You have to stay away from the lake. It’s not safe there for you.”

  “It’s not safe anywhere apparently, or did you forget my shop got torched?”

  “Maybe it’s a sign you should take a break. Stay home, inside.”

  Once upon a time, I did that. I shoved myself up in bed. “I am not hiding away. I’ll fix it and be back in business in no time. That’s what insurance is for.”

  “Will it pay fair market value for my things?” he emphasized. “My understanding is all the goods are ruined.”

  “I’ve yet to conduct a full assessment, and the insurance will send their people in, too. But don’t worry, you’ll get your fair share.” Was he really going to complain about money at a time like this?

  “I didn’t mean to complain,” he hastened to assure me. “The important thing is no one was hurt.”

  I disagreed on the hurt part. I’d felt the blow. “The cops are checking to see if someone set the fire.”

  “Arson?” he scoffed. “More likely your kiln.” An old pizza oven I’d been using to fire my newfound pottery habit.

  “Whereas I’m hoping faulty wiring.” Because I was pretty sure my insurance would cover it.

  “It could have been any number of things,” he agreed. “But you’re safe, if banned from going on walks alone.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Let’s make sure of that.” He patted my hand in a way that was more father than lover. Ugh. He glanced at the stairs. “Would you like me to fetch someone so you’re not alone when I leave?”

  “I thought Trish was here.”

  “She was, but she left to handle something.”

  “Then maybe you should stay a while longer.” I clutched at his hand because it occurred to me that I had Darryl in my bedroom. Me and him and a bed. I also had a pasty mouth and probably bedhead.

  “Stay…” He glanced away then back. “Of course.”

  Oh, shit he said yes. “Can you give me a second. I need a drink.” Before he could offer to fetch me something, I rolled out of bed and noticed the knees of my pants were soaked and cold, a reminder I’d been kneeling in snow. I’d only been stripped out of my coat and boots. I closed the door to the bathroom and wished I had access to fresh clothes. I brushed my teeth and gargled quickly. By the time I turned around to dry my face and hands, there was a pair of pants hanging on the bar with the towel.

  Thank you, house!

  The leggings were warm, as if from the dryer, and kept parts of me tucked in the right places. When I emerged, it was to see Darryl sitting on the window seat, rooting through Martin’s old box, which I’d have sworn I hadn’t left lying out.

  “What are you doing?”

  He lifted his head only briefly. “You keep your ex-husband’s stuff in your room.” Stated, not even a query.

  It roused an irritation in me. “You shouldn’t be looking through my things.”

  “Why not? Is it because you’re hiding something from me?”

  Did he really accuse me? “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Don’t you?” He swept his hand at the box. “Are you pining over your failed marriage?”

  The term failed hit me hard. “I didn’t screw it up.” How dare he even say so?

  As if Darryl realized he’d gone too far, his face turned apologetic. “I’m sure you didn’t. I shouldn’t have let my jealousy speak for me,” he soothed.

  My bruised ego soaked up the praise, but at the same time, I remained annoyed. I’d never seen this side to Darryl before. “Martin and I grew apart.”

  “It happens. His loss, my gain.” Offered with a smile. “Obviously, there was something wrong with the man to not realize what kind of gem you are.”

  “You think I’m a gem?”

  “Precious and rare,” he stated, grabbing my hands. He drew me to him, sitting me on his lap, which thrilled me to no end.

  “Thanks for coming to my rescue and carrying me.” I cupped his face and smiled.

  “You’re welcome.” The proper respectful thing to say, and yet for some reason, I could hear a mocking Kane saying, Thank me with your tongue.

  Maybe I would. Before I could chicken out, I kissed Darryl. He kissed me back, and excited, I groaned against his lips, squirmed against him. Maybe he’d get the hint.

  Instead of taking off my clothes, he pulled away. “We can’t.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “You should be resting.”

  “I’m fine,” I protested.

  “You’ve suffered an ordeal,” he insisted, stroking my hair back. “Give yourself time to recover.”

  “Kissing you helps me relax.” I was bold.

  He laughed softly. “But the things kissing make me want to do are anything but. I’ll wait until you’re one hundred percent.”

  He was such a gentleman. He put me back to bed and kissed me on the forehead saying he’d see me tomorrow.

  I heard the front door close then his truck as he left. I couldn’t sleep. What happened by the water? Had I cast a spell that knocked me out?

  I wandered out of my bed, restless and not tired despite
what Darryl seemed to think. I sat in the window seat and noticed the pile of journals. I grabbed one written in the last few years.

  February 14th. I told her I had to work, and she believed it. As if I’d want to be with her when I could have my Helena.

  I frowned. How odd that Martin’s girlfriend had the same name as Geoff’s. Surely a weird coincidence.

  I skipped ahead.

  June. I am so ready to leave her, but Helena talked me out of it. Said it’s not the right time yet. Soon. At least the whore’s brat is gone.

  I winced and tossed the journal to the floor. I leaned my head against the window, gazing outside.

  There was movement in the trees, and I held my breath until the form emerged, dressed all in black so that only the paler countenance of his face appeared. Kane saluted me with a sword.

  Back to guard me.

  Funny how the thought helped me go to sleep.

  11

  The next morning, I came downstairs to find Geoff in the kitchen putting breakfast on the table. Scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, fried tomato slices, and even some sausage.

  “Oh, that looks amazing!” I declared. “You didn’t have to make me food, though.”

  “Yeah I did. I didn’t even know you suffered a seizure by the water until Winnie told me.”

  “You saw Winnie?”

  “Yeah, she popped in early this morning to grab some things.”

  “She’s gone again?” It shouldn’t have surprised me, but… Okay, yeah, it did. I would have thought she’d have stuck around to at least check on me.

  “Don’t change the subject. Are you okay? Why didn’t anyone come tell me downstairs?”

  “I’m sure Trish just forgot.”

  As had Darryl. Which made me wonder why Trish would think to call Darryl before my son. I thought those two had a close relationship. Trish certainly implied it with all the details she knew of his life.

  “Forgot, my ass. She’s still pissed at me.”

  “Why?” I exclaimed. This was the first I’d heard of it.

  “Because of something that happened with Helena.”

  There was my opening. “What happened?”

  “A few things.” He slid into the spot across from me, suddenly nervous.

  “What’s wrong?” I tried to keep it short and simple. Didn’t want to scare him off with my eagerness to mother him.

  “I wasn’t entirely truthful about why I’m here. I mean I did want to see you for Christmas, but the real reason I came is because I lost my job.”

  “I’m sorry, Geoff, what happened?” Because my understanding was that he worked for some hip new startup that was going places.

  “Mismanagement of the company led to them going into bankruptcy. I lost my last two paychecks as a result. With it being Christmas, no one was hiring, and since I didn’t have enough for January rent, I abandoned my apartment.”

  My nosy ass couldn’t resist the opening. “What about your fiancée, Helena?”

  “We are on a break.”

  For a second, I flashed back to Ross on Friends. “That’s got to be hard.” A subtle nudge to see if he’d explain. Especially since he’d taken a call from her a few nights ago.

  “I know you’re wondering why. I mean, on her birthday, I asked her to marry me. We were planning to get hitched in May. It’s just…” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I discovered things about her. Weird stuff that’s made me rethink things.”

  “Like?” Did she lick the flavor off chips and put them back in the bag? I’d read about it in a Dear Somebody column. It was a deal breaker for some.

  “She thinks she’s a witch.”

  I almost choked but turned it into a cough. “A witch?” I gasped. “Oh, how, um, different.” Now was probably not the time to tell him he was descended from a long line of them, according to the book in my bedroom. Nor was I about to admit that the stupid genealogy book had his sister’s daddy listed as someone that wasn’t Martin. I’d never cheated on my husband. Ever.

  “It’s more than different. She believes it. Thinks she does magic. Wants me to do stuff with her.”

  “Have you?” I asked. What did my son know? Had he exhibited powers?

  “’Course not. It’s bullshit,” he exclaimed, only to add, “Sorry. I don’t mean to swear, but seriously, magic? It doesn’t exist.” Geoff sounded just like me. Would he prove to be as stubborn?

  “What if I said magic is real?” I ventured cautiously.

  “I’d say your eyes are brown because you’re full of poop.”

  My lips twitched. “They’re brown because of genetics, and FYI, since you hadn’t heard, you’re descended from a long line of witches. Or warlocks. I don’t know what the proper terminology is in our family.”

  “How about crazy? Since when do you think you ride a broom?”

  “One, no stick is getting wedged by my cheeks, and two, I found out about my family’s reputation only when I returned. Apparently, we’re some kind of lake guardians.” And I’d failed. Maddy the monster had died.

  “We’re pagan environmentalists?” he joked, but I’d seen too much to deny it.

  “Our family is special. We have abilities.”

  “Mom, do you need to talk to someone?” Geoff took my hand and softened his tone.

  I yanked my hand free. “What? No, of course not.”

  “Do I have to worry about you sacrificing animals or dancing naked and scaring the neighbors?”

  “Don’t be silly.” I’d definitely never dance naked.

  “Do you think you can fly?”

  “You know I’m afraid of heights.”

  “Helena isn’t. She told me she can fly. And cast spells. Says if I join her, I can be part of the new world. That when magic returns, I can join the ranks of royalty.”

  “Oh.” I could see where he questioned his fiancée’s sanity. Old me would have totally agreed. New me understood there were things that seemed impossible but were true. Perhaps his fiancée really was a practicing witch. Kind of wished I’d met her now. Could she help me with some of my questions?

  Geoff kept talking. “Anyhow, I told Helena I needed a break and came to see you. I was hoping I could hang until I find a job and a place.”

  “You can stay as long as you need.” The house would accommodate, and I got to reconnect with my son.

  Win. Win.

  And then just because I couldn’t help myself, “Did you know your dad had a girlfriend?”

  And just like that I lost the mom of the year award.

  Geoff froze, stepped away from me. “I didn’t talk much to Dad.”

  “I wasn’t sure. I mean…” I blustered ahead. “We didn’t talk much either. So I didn’t know what was going on.” Then because my foot just needed to be shoved in my mouth, “Her name was Helena.”

  Geoff stared at me. “It’s a common name, Mom.”

  It was, and yet it nagged at me, especially since I had no way of checking it out to reassure myself. Martin hated social media, so I’d never seen a picture of his girlfriend.

  “Weird coincidence, huh?” I tried to laugh it off.

  He didn’t look amused.

  Great. Maybe I should make him some brownies. Later. I had stuff to do.

  With it being the thirtieth, I had only one more day before New Year’s with Darryl. I couldn’t wait. How sweet that he’d come to see me when he thought me injured. And so solicitous of me. Never taking advantage.

  The jerk.

  Would it kill him to seduce me? I swear if he didn’t do something soon, I’d get a complex.

  Surely, he wasn’t stalling on purpose. I might not have dated in a long time, but I had faith I read his intentions properly. He desired me. He was just waiting for the right time.

  The right time better be tomorrow. Which reminded me. I hadn’t gone shopping for underwear or a dress. Crap. I wondered if I could still talk Trish into going.

  However, I also had to get inside my store and begin the o
nerous task of cleaning it out and planning repairs. The other option was to sulk around my house and eyeball the food I couldn’t have.

  The urge welled within me to stuff my face for the high and lull that came with eating carbs. The pleasure of the sugar. Real stuff, not the fake that took getting used to. The crunch of a French fry. Nothing on the low carb diet could replace it. Bread. Fluffy, fresh from the oven, buttered, bread.

  So good, I’d put on over a hundred and twenty some pounds. Felt trapped in my body. Being overweight was a catch twenty-two. It wasn’t just getting your mind to cooperate. You needed the body to work. The extra person I was carting around really dragged me down. It wasn’t that I lacked strength, more that it was buried in weight.

  It hurt my joints. My limbs. In my forties, I huffed and strained to do things that other people did with ease.

  Don’t eat.

  I wouldn’t go back to that life. Yes, I was stressed. I could handle it. What was the worst that could happen?

  I might lose the store and have to get a job. That would suck. But I’d survive.

  What was the best-case scenario?

  The shop wouldn’t take as much as I feared to fix.

  And I could control part of that by heading there this morning to assess the damage and start working. Maybe I’d visit my witch forum and see if there was a spell to clean up the mess. What bummed me out was delaying my day out with the girls. I’d been looking forward to it, but as a business woman, I had to set my priorities.

  I went under the kitchen sink to find a cleaning bucket, some rags, garbage bags, and general-purpose cleaner. There was also an engraving tool, the version that plugged into a wall and heated a nail-like head. It could burn wood. In this case, flooring to set sigils.

  Thank you. So cool. The house provided before I even knew what I needed.

  As I walked past the door to Winnie’s room, I noticed it slightly ajar. Geoff said she’d been by to grab some stuff.

  A peek inside the crack showed the bed, neatly made, her clothes folded on a chair sitting beside it. Beside the door was a wastepaper basket filled with crumpled paper. She’d been working on something. I grabbed the handle of the door to close it, only to notice a word written on a discarded ball of paper garbage.

 

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