“Oh, you don’t want to be late, especially on your first day!”
He smiled.
“And please call me, Sara. My daughter, Mira lives here with us as well. She’s a doctor at Caring Hands Clinic right up there on Soxton Avenue, but she’s away now. Should be back in a couple of days. I hope you’ll get to meet her soon.”
“That would be nice…and please call me, John.” He started out the door. “Bye, Rosie.”
“Bye,” Rosie replied.
John got into his car and pulled away. He felt good about what he’d done, even though he knew Cindy would be miffed. He sometimes wondered what life would’ve been like if he’d listened to his dear mother, who’d passed on four years earlier, when she begged him not to marry “that woman”. She never thought Cindy was the right one for him, though they’d been college sweethearts for two years and graduated together. It explains their rather long courtship, for despite Cindy’s eagerness for marriage, he strung her along for six years after they’d graduated and both landed good jobs. His repeated excuse was “we have to save our pennies for our future together. A wedding lasts a day, but life goes on after that.” There was no telling if she believed his reasoning or not, but he’d procrastinated for a long time due to his mother’s wishes and the constant arguments they had over Cindy’s “unwarranted jealousy”. Then after one of their heated arguments, it was apparent that Cindy might actually walk away for good that time and he quenched her anger with a proposal—on bended knee. Undoubtedly, she was a handful, but John couldn’t deny the fact that he loved her. He loved his mother and respected her viewpoints, but in the end, he knew his mother couldn’t give him what Cindy could; couldn’t make him feel inside the way Cindy did. He needed “that woman”—insanely jealous or not; controlling or not, and he’d do whatever it took to make her stay.
That’s the reason for their abrupt move to Mizpah. All Cindy’s idea. She felt she was losing him somehow—that their marriage was in jeopardy and they were growing apart. She’d given him an ultimatum, but had no idea that he only acceded for Ashley’s sake. She had one more year in high school, before going off to college and he didn’t want to disrupt her life due to selfish reasons. He’d come to terms with the fact that he’d not been happy in his marriage for years—probably from the beginning. But his parents stuck it out for forty-five years before his father died, and he figured if they could make it work, he should be able to hold his family together too.
Sighing as thoughts of Cindy sailed through his mind, he dropped the sun visor and cruised down the highway.
* * *
“Want orange juice or milk to go with that?” Sara asked Rosie who’d climbed the stool at the kitchen counter. A plate of eggs, bacon and toast had been placed in front of her.
“Juice, please.” Rosie took a bite of her toast. “He seems really nice,” she added, as Sara went to the refrigerator. Max was wagging his tail happily as he dove into his bowl of goodies Sara had waiting for him.
“He does. Doesn’t he? I bet his daughter is just as nice.” Sara poured out the orange juice and set it next to Rosie’s plate.
“I doubt that.”
Sara frowned. “Why’d you say that?”
“Because girls can sometimes take right after their moms, like I take after my mom.”
Sara smiled. “That’s not always the case, Pumpkin. My mom and I were very different—almost like night and day. We had almost nothing in common and people always said I took right after my Dad.”
“Was she anything like Mrs. Morrison?” Rosie asked with her mouth full.
“Oh, no! My mom was quite nice. She just wasn’t very forthcoming with her feelings. I guess you can say she was rather reserved. Not that she didn’t trust people or anything like that. I think it was more of a confidence issue. She was raised in an orphanage; never knew her parents. Maybe her identity was lost in the mystery of her past.”
“I see.” Rosie nodded. “Maybe you’re right, then. Ashley or whatever her name is, might be pretty cool. Time will tell though.”
Sara stood near the screen door, looking out and sipping her coffee.
6
_________________
Mira took a seat in the departure hall approximately fifteen feet away from where airport personnel were stationed. The boarding call would be made shortly. She rested her leather purse on her lap as Bobby placed their carry-on luggage on the floor.
Noticing a troubled expression on her face, he sat next to her. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She glanced his way. “Sure. Everything’s perfect.”
“Mira, it’s me you’re talking to.”
This time, she looked into his eyes; those eyes of his that seemed to penetrate her soul. Knowing she couldn’t fool him, she sighed. “I think that’s the problem, Bobby. Everything’s too perfect.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess I’m not used to things–life–being this way. I feel like something’s gotta go wrong to mess it all up.”
Bobby wasn’t sure how to process what he was hearing and Mira could tell.
“It’s just that on the way to the airport, my mind flashed on Dad and how I wish he’d lived to see us make this big step. He really liked you, Bobby.”
He lowered his head a moment, feeling a bit emotional inside. He’d thought of Michael as another father and had come to love him as such. “I know, honey. I’m sure he’ll be watching from up there though.” He glanced up, and smiled.
“Yeah. I also started to reminisce on my and Rosie’s flight from L.A. when we were on our way to visit my parents. She was so excited to see them; we both were. Yet, we had no idea that it would be the last vacation we’d ever get to spend with my dad. He was sick and I had absolutely no idea. When he died, I just couldn’t process it—how he could be here one minute and gone the next; how we could all be so happy one minute and overwhelmed by sadness the next. Our visit home was supposed to be a fun one, Bobby. Everything was perfect for a while, then it’s like things changed in a blink of an eye. Can’t you see what I’m saying?”
He felt her pain. “I know. You’re thinking something bad might happen now that we’re finally at this point in our lives.” He knew how long it had taken them to get there and refused to think it all would be in vain. “That’s your fear talking, Mira.” He took her hand and gently gripped it. “That’s all it is. It’s not reality.”
“How can you be sure?” Her eyes pleaded for a reasonable answer.
He placed the hand he held on his heart. “Because I feel it in here.”
What should have been a comforting moment added to Mira’s dread when the vision of the death angel hovering over Bobby in the hospital three years earlier flashed into her mind. She’d seen it around him once after that when they’d gone one night to free the spirits that were trapped inside that house in Newport—what they’d come to know as The Disappearing House. She’d never spoken a word to him about it and never intended to. Instead, she’d blocked it from her mind, refusing to accept it as fate, though it was harder when she saw the death angel the second time. She remembered thinking, we’re all gonna die someday, and maybe she was seeing the entity purely because of her gift—not that it meant Bobby would pass away anytime soon. She’d tried convincing herself that he could live to be a ripe old age before death would ever visit him for the final time. That was the only way Mira could go on without constantly thinking the man she loved would be snatched away from her at such a young age. Surely, the heavens would not allow her to experience such grief a second time around before many more years had passed in between. How could she ever handle it if it were any other way?
She slid her hand away from Bobby’s chest and gazed into the distance. She didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention, as the lobby was packed with waiting travelers.
“Mira…” Bobby said, softly.
With somber eyes, she looked his way and he took her hand again, keeping it on his lap.
“N
othing is gonna go wrong. I want you to trust me, okay?”
To satisfy him, she nodded, but still wasn’t so sure.
“I need you to think positive thoughts and not give in to the negative ones. Believe me, you and I haven’t come this far to be derailed. We’re gonna get married and have a beautiful life together. Think of that gorgeous wedding dress you bought and how stunning you’re gonna look in it.”
She managed a smile. “You sure it’s not bad luck that you’ve seen it before the wedding?”
“That’s superstition, I told you! I know plenty guys who saw their lady in her wedding dress before the wedding and their marriages are going strong.”
He appeared to have lifted her spirit.
“Okay,” she said. “You win.”
“That’s my girl!” He kissed her cheek.
“By the way, you looked rather handsome in your tux.”
“Think so?” He was smiling from ear to ear.
“Yeah.” She nodded.
7
_________________
Driving a rented hatchback, Cindy pulled into the yard of Jefferson High at 8:55 a.m. She would use that car for a few days until she and John were able to lease one from a local dealership.
Ashley grabbed her book bag from the back seat, then looked at her mother. There was something she desperately wanted to say to her from before they’d left home. “Mom…” she started, “…there’s something wrong with our house. I think we should move.”
Cindy sighed heavily.
“We don’t have to go back to Colonsboro—just anywhere else. We can stay right here in Mizpah, but in another house.”
“I’m sorry, Ashley, but that’s not going to happen. Your father and I have invested a pretty penny in our new home. Our money doesn’t grow on trees, as you know, so I’m afraid we’re going to stay right where we are. I don’t know what these sudden episodes are that you’ve been having, but maybe we should take you to get some help,” Cindy replied.
Ashley’s heart sank. “Really, Mom? I should’ve known I couldn’t talk to you. I never could, anyway!”
She got out of the car and slammed the door.
“Have a good day!” Cindy sang behind her. “I swear, if she breaks these people’s car glass, whatever it cost to repair it is coming directly out of her savings.”
She drove off contentedly and switched the radio dial a few times until it stopped at a local classical music station. Classical was her absolute favorite kind of music—both to play and listen to. After she’d turned forty-seven and was rapidly approaching the “change of life”, she found that the mere act of driving had become a chore; it often made her a nervous wreck, especially if she happened to get caught in traffic. Then, there were the occasional dizzy spells which, more than once, had caused her to turn the car right around, and return home to lie down. And that damned anxiety—she felt it was the worst and was sure it was at the crux of every strange, frightening, puzzling symptom she’d had. Though her fingers weren’t short in terms of finances, she’d not been lucky enough to find who she deemed was a qualified enough physician to make all of her menopausal symptoms go away. Many times, she felt like crawling into bed or under a rock and never resurfacing to see the light of day again.
Those days, she quietly cried in frustration, though no one ever witnessed it. Cindy was too strong of a woman to ever show her weak side even to her own family. Besides, in her mind, she always had to be the strongest one because if anyone could take care of them all, it was her. She’d been equipped for the job ever since she was thirteen when her mom walked out on her and her dad and she had to learn on her own what it took to be a woman. Especially when Dad was out at the pub most nights in hopes of drinking away his seemingly insurmountable problems. Cindy had learned to be tough, to depend on herself and to take care of her dad who obviously couldn’t take good enough care of her or himself. She studied hard to graduate Valedictorian from high school and then worked two jobs to help fund her partial university scholarship. Somehow, she made things happen, never slowing down for a second. Cindy had big dreams: She was going to show her run-away mom she could be something great in life and that she’d made a tragic mistake by walking out on her. Even though she heard she’d died twelve years later at the hands of a long-time lover who was now serving time, she was sure Tracy Gooddall could still see how she turned out whether she, by chance, was looking down from Heaven or looking up from Hell. She was showing her what it was to be a “real” woman—one who sticks with her family and keeps it together.
She made a U-turn at the stoplight, then took a right into Ted’s Wholesale. Ted’s had a huge name even back in Colonsboro and owned a chain of franchises throughout the United States and other parts of the world. It was where Cindy shopped and stocked up on most of their grocery items and housewares.
She was fortunate to discover a lone spot close to the main front doors, as the parking lot was fairly crowded.
“What’re all these people doing here so early?” she muttered after getting out of the car. She pulled her purse strap onto her shoulder, gave a gentle tug at the end of her plaid blouse and shut the door behind her.
Cindy was dressed like a professional even though the only stop she intended to make that morning was at Ted’s. “First impressions are everything,” she often reminded herself before she left home. “They never happen twice.”
She pulled a shopping cart from behind a partially enclosed rail at the side of the glass doors and entered the store.
Ted’s was a one hundred and thirty thousand square foot giant stacked with any and everything a mother could possibly want for her home. Cindy absolutely loved every time she stepped in one of those stores. She felt like a princess in a castle.
“Good morning, Ma’am and welcome to Ted’s!” A smiling female host greeted her at the door.
Cindy nodded—felt it was the least she could do, then continued on her way. She checked her wristwatch as she’d planned to spend no more than an hour there that morning. She wanted to be back at home by 10:30, the latest, to make a few calls in reference to some real estate. It was 9:14. She figured with their house about fifteen minutes away, she had ample time to pick up the items she wanted.
The Oriental mats near the front of the store caught her eye. She’d been meaning to get another one for the house as soon as she settled in, but obviously, now was the time. She bent over and picked through the stack for the perfect one that could sit right below her prized piano. She opted for a round one, instead of the rectangular ones she often preferred. She could see it sitting there beautifully in the living room. As she straightened up again, ready to call over a CSR to assist her, a lady bumped into her.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” the tall, beautiful blonde said to her.
Cindy’s eyes widened as shock filled every fiber of her being. She looked like she’d seen...
“Are you all right?” the woman asked, feeling terrible that a simple blunder might have caused this stranger such visible distress.
Cindy was at a loss for words. It just couldn’t be!
“Ma’am… ma’am...”
She didn’t even blink although thirty seconds at least had passed. Then, as if a cloud had slowly moved away from her iris, she was able to see a clearer image of the woman in front of her, and she almost collapsed with relief.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” The woman was now holding her shoulder.
Sighing deeply, Cindy nodded. “I’m sorry. I just took you for someone else.” She quickly collected herself. The thought of her having anything remotely similar to a panic attack made her shudder. No one had the right to see her in a vulnerable state.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I’m really sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was going.” The woman soon walked off, still unsure of what to make of Cindy’s strange behavior.
Cindy headed straight for the cashier. She felt uneasy at that moment and needed to get back home as quickly as she could. She hadn’t
picked up even half of the items she’d intended to when she first arrived, but those things could wait. Her emotional health was far more important.
The store assistant was able to fit the Oriental mat in the backseat of Cindy’s car, with a small portion of the rug hanging out the back window. Cindy turned up the classical music to high blast from the warehouse parking lot and kept it at that volume until she pulled onto her own driveway.
* * *
Knitting and humming softly in the living room with Max lying on the floor next to her chair, Sara could see Cindy Morrison across the street grabbing a shopping bag out of the car and heading inside the house; returning minutes later for the Oriental mat from the back seat. She seemed to be in a terrible hurry and was even sweating profusely.
Odd, Sara thought. I wonder what’s the matter. Then she remembered the woman’s assertion that she was a private person. “Anyway, it’s not my business,” Sara mumbled, and she resumed her humming. That is, until she heard the piano playing from the Morrisons’ house. It was quite loud as she could hear it clearly even across the street. She had a weird feeling inside. The music, though classical, had an eerie undertone. It reminded her of one played in a vampire movie she’d watched way back in the day when she was just a teenager. She could still remember even to this day what a creepy feeling it gave her, as if something dreadful was on the horizon.
Max perked his ears at the sound of the cryptic music and Sara soon noticed he seemed to be getting a bit agitated.
She reached down to pat his head and he growled at her, taking her by surprise. Quickly, she recoiled, convinced it was that woman’s dreadful piano playing that was causing Max’s strange behavior.
The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection Page 74