Chip and Sara enjoyed their dinner. They talked like longtime friends, sharing intimate details of their lives. Conversation came easily with him, and Sara didn’t mind answering his questions and exposing a side of herself that few men had ever known. When they finished eating, Chip wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin and smiled approvingly.
“Thank you. That was delicious. Now what’s for dessert?”
Sara didn’t know what came over her, but the words left her mouth before she had time to think about them. “Oh, don’t you know, Chip? I’m the dessert.”
He looked surprised, but smirked. “Sara. I never took you for a naughty girl. I was certain you were the sweet and innocent type. Was I wrong about you?”
Sara sighed and sunk into her chair. “No, you were right. I’m definitely the sweet and innocent type. I never sleep with a man until I’ve really gotten to know him well. And I’ve only ever slept with a few men in my whole life. I’m a good girl.”
“Whew. You scared me for a minute there. I thought I had misjudged you,” he said with a wink.
“Yeah. You seem to know me quite well—only I was totally serious,” she smiled flirtatiously. “I don’t feel like I need to get to know you better. In fact, I already feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
“Really? That’s funny because I feel the exact same way.”
They began to kiss again, and Sara felt tingles of electricity coursing through her body. She shivered. Chip stopped kissing her and looked at her, his eyes wide with concern. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Positive,” she said, planting gentle kisses on his warm neck.
He scooped her up into his strong arms and carried her to the bedroom, where they began to make love. Their kisses were like sweet melodies, their rhythm a glorious symphony. Their bodies melded together in a loving fusion of completeness as they succumbed to their building passion. Chip was everything Sara expected him to be, a gentle, yet passionate, lover who wanted nothing more than to just love her and please her. She felt as if they were one body, one mind, one soul. Everything was as it should be. The sensations between them escalated into a glorious eruption of pure ecstasy. They lay there breathless in each other’s arms. And Sara was quite certain that she would never again love another man. She was complete.
“Holy shit, Sara!” Chip exclaimed suddenly. “I think I just lost my soul inside of you. I don’t know what that was, but it certainly wasn’t sex. I’ve loved other women, but I have never felt anything like that before. That was pure, unfiltered love. It was powerful. I felt as if we were one person.”
“I know,” she said. “I felt it, too. It was amazing.”
“Amazing is an understatement,” he said. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and fanned himself with his hand. “I don’t think a word exists to describe what just happened between us. I don’t know what you did to me, but I’m definitely yours—totally, completely, and forever. You said you were trouble, Sara, but I had no idea what was in store for me.”
“I didn’t mean that kind of trouble,” she said, turning serious. “Until I met you, my life was full of darkness and death. I don’t want you to be sucked into that world.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, stroking her hair as she lay on his chest, her legs wrapped around his. “I can take care of myself. And now I will take care of you, too. I mean it, Sara. You’re a part of me now.”
“I know what you mean. There was something seriously lacking in my life. I don’t feel that way now, Chip. It’s like I’ve found the missing piece of my heart.”
“Yep. That’s how I feel, too, Sara. And you know what else? For the first time in my life, I think I finally understand how my mom felt about Connor. I told you about him, remember? My guardian angel?”
Sara nodded.
“Well, Connor was actually my mom’s one true love, her soul mate. Even though she married my dad, she was lost without Connor. It’s like they were the same person, only they were forced to be apart. I know they are happy together in Heaven now.”
“Sounds very special.” Sara said, smiling. “So… tell me more about your mother. What was she like?”
“Well, she was kind, loving, thoughtful, passionate. She enjoyed nature and art. I was young when she died, but we spent a lot of time at the park. She was a strong, caring woman. Someone who would do anything to protect the ones she loved. And she was beautiful, inside and out. She radiated warmth and love.”
“Sounds a lot like you, Chip.”
“Hmm… Now that you mention it, I guess we are a lot alike.”
“Do you have any pictures of her?” Sara asked.
“I do. I have a photo album filled with family memories. I also have a special box that holds some pictures of her and Connor.”
“Ooh. I would love to see that. Can you show me it sometime?”
“Well, I can show you this weekend, if you’d like. Besides, my girlfriend needs to see my house, too,” he said teasingly.
“You’re right. She does. I never have sex with a man before I see where he lives.”
“You know where I live,” Chip said. He put his hand on her chest. “Right inside your heart. But if you want to see my bed, well then, that’s another story. I have to take you to my house for that.”
“Chip. Shame on you. I wasn’t trying to get into your bed. What type of a woman do you think I am?”
He laughed. “I know you weren’t, Sara. I have nothing but the utmost love and respect for you. If we’re being honest here, I’m the one trying to get you into my bed.”
“Maybe I misjudged you,” she laughed. “Looks like I’m the one who’s in trouble.”
“Before I met you, I hadn’t had a girlfriend in three years. I’ve been busy working on my thesis, plus there just weren’t any girls I was interested in. I mean… until you.”
“Well, I’m honored to be the one,” Sara giggled. “I can’t wait to see your bed… I mean house.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven on Saturday then.”
***
After they parted, Sara was too tired for anything else and decided to call it a night. As she fell into a peaceful slumber, she began to have another of her medieval fantasies. This time Margaret and her boyfriend watched the sunset together as they hid behind a castle. He kissed her and then slipped a hand inside of her top to caress her breast. She giggled.
“Merek, don’t let them see that,” she said. “Or they shall have ye head.”
“They can have me head,” he laughed. “As long as I can have ye heart.”
“Always,” she said softly.
Sara didn’t know why she was concocting these fantasies. Ever since she met Chip, the story of Margaret and Merek had begun to unfold. She had dreamed of them several times now and was intrigued as she watched them fall deeper and deeper in love. She had been noticing fewer visions of death lately and more of these welcome follies. It was like watching a screenplay or reading one of her treasured romance novels. Sara wanted to know what happened next.
Only one thing bothered her: the words that Margaret had spoken to her that night. She had warned Sara that death was never the answer. For Sara, it was often the only answer. Sara knew pain all too well. It paralyzed her, making it difficult to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. For this reason, she was trying to proceed slowly and cautiously where Chip was concerned. But she couldn’t help that she had fallen deeply in love with him, any more than she could help the visions and uncontrollable feelings of despair.
CHAPTER 6
Timeless
On the way to Chip’s house Saturday night, he and Sara engaged in a deep intellectual conversation about love and lucky coincidences.
The July evening was warm, and they relished the soothing summer breeze that blew in through the rolled-down car window. Lush, green trees framed the road, their vibrancy bringing a healthy glow to the world around them.
“Do you believe in fate?” Chip asked.
>
“I’m not sure,” Sara said honestly. “I never believed our lives were predestined. Other than the fact that we all die. But when I met you, it was so different and unexpected. I felt like I already knew you. I don’t know if it’s just hormones or something more, but whatever it is, it sure is powerful.”
“Well, I totally believe in fate,” Chip said confidently. “I think God places people in our lives for a reason—whether to learn a lesson, have a relationship, or further our purpose. I believe there are no accidents in the universe and that everything happens for a reason, even if we don’t see it or understand it at the time.”
A monarch butterfly landed on the windshield in front of Sara, its orange and black wings struggling to hang on.
“What about free will?” Sara asked. “Don’t you believe we have a choice in how we live our lives and what happens to us?”
“I do believe we have the opportunity to choose,” he agreed. “I think our decisions will ultimately affect the direction of our lives and can even alter a pre-charted course if we stray too far from what was planned for us. But I still think there is always a greater plan at work.”
“So you believe in both destiny and free will? Isn’t that contradictory?” Sara asked.
Chip could sense her confusion, so he did his best to explain how he saw things and why they weren’t really contradictory in his mind.
“I do believe in both, and I think they can coexist. Here’s why: I think we all come with the potential for certain life events to happen. Kind of like we are prewired for particular experiences and encounters with certain people. What we choose to do with those experiences and how we respond to each situation will determine whether we stay on course or branch off onto another path. If we end up on an alternate path, then a new set of possible predestined events can occur. I believe we inherit the potential to experience one of several realties, and our free will affects which one we end up in. I also think that we receive spiritual guidance from God, the universe, and guardian angels. They try hard to ensure we don’t stray too far from the planned course, but ultimately we decide what to do and how to live our lives. When we make the best choices, everything falls into place. When we make a choice that throws us off course, we will have problems and struggles or the distinct feeling that something isn’t right. That’s because we aren’t living as we are meant to live; we’re not living up to our full potential.”
“That’s pretty deep, Chip,” she said. “But strangely it makes sense. If what you say is true, then I’ve been off course for a very long time. I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my life or if I even have a purpose. Nothing has ever felt right for me. That is, until I met you. Let’s hope this destiny thing really is true.”
Chip pulled into the driveway and shut the engine off. He looked at Sara, but she didn’t seem to realize they had arrived. She was somewhere else.
“Can I ask you something, Chip?” she said, returning to the present moment. “As a psychologist?”
“Of course.”
“Are fantasies a sign of mental illness?”
“They can be. Or they can be a sign of a healthy mind. It all depends on the circumstances. Why did you ask?”
Sara hesitated. By now she knew she could confide in Chip. He would never judge or ridicule her like others had done in the past. “I’ve been having these fantasies lately. They happen when I’m dreaming,” she confessed. “It all started right after I met you.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me? We could make your fantasies come true,” he said with a wink.
“No,” Sara said. “It’s not like that. They aren’t about us. Only they sort of are.”
“Now I’m confused,” he said, wrinkling his forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Well, they’re about this other couple. From medieval times. Margaret and Merek.”
“Oooh. They have names,” he said. “This sounds interesting.”
“As a shrink? Or my boyfriend?”
“Both,” he admitted. “Please tell me more.”
“Well, the fantasies are more like my visions. Only I’m not awake when I have them—and no one has died. I see what Margaret sees. I feel what she feels. And when I first looked at Merek, I thought I saw you. It felt kind of like us.”
“That is interesting,” he said.
“Well, what do you think? What does it all mean? Any theories on why I’ve been having these visions?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But it does remind me of something. I read a fascinating study when I was working on my Master’s.”
“On mental illness?”
“No,” he said. “On a therapy technique called past-life regression.”
“You mean as in reincarnation?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe in that, Chip,” she said. “I’m still trying to figure out if life after death is real.”
“I know. I figured you wouldn’t. I’m not convinced it exists either, but it is an interesting theory. Since you’re a psychic, you already know that some things cannot be explained. It doesn’t mean we should dismiss them, though. Surprisingly, past-life regression therapy is actually very effective, no matter what you believe.”
“How does the therapy work?” Sara asked.
“Well, from what I read, the therapist helps to get the client into a hypnotic state and then guides him or her to remember events from childhood. Then they travel back in time even further, to birth, a previous death, and then previous lives.”
“Sounds bizarre,” Sara said frowning.
“Yes, it is quite unusual,” Chip agreed. “Some researchers believe that the past lives are actually concocted by the brain to help clients heal. But others insist they are real memories. The stuff the clients come up with is just as puzzling. Some remember the Civil War and can recite the names of those they served in combat with. Others recall living in huts, having other families. Sometimes they fluently speak a foreign language under hypnosis that they’ve never even learned. The weirdest part is when a client gives facts about a time period they know nothing about, and the details are later confirmed as historically accurate.”
“Wow,” Sara said. “That is really weird. But it doesn’t mean that past lives or reincarnation are responsible. Maybe it’s something else, something genetic. Maybe our ancestors’ memories are passed on to us somehow. It could be in our DNA.”
Sara watched as a flock of blackbirds swooped across the sky. They flew effortlessly in perfect sync, as if they had innate knowledge and understanding of what to do and where to go.
“Genetic memories are certainly possible, maybe even likely,” he agreed. “If we can inherit things like personality traits from our biological relatives then why not memories?”
“So what do you think of my fantasies? What about Merek and Margaret?”
“To be honest, I think they were real people,” he said. “From another time. You’re probably just having visions of them like you have visions of others.”
Sara nodded. Merek and Margaret seemed too real to be a figment of her imagination.
Chip continued: “Who knows? Maybe our ancestors once hooked up with each other. Maybe your great-great-great grandmother was Margaret, and my great-great grandfather was Merek. We share their memories because we share genes with them, so that’s why we seem familiar to each other. Whatever the case, it still supports my destiny theory. You and I, Sara, were brought together for a reason. I’m more sure than ever now.”
Sara was quiet. This was all too odd for her scientific mind to grasp. She believed Chip’s first idea: that she was having visions of people who had lived long ago. What she didn’t understand was why.
***
Chip got out of the car and went around the other side to open the door for Sara. He took her hand and escorted her to his front door.
Well-trimmed Juniper bushes surrounded his small front porch, and a pot of red geraniums sat just outside the wood door.
“Welcome home,” he said, before realizing what had come out of his mouth. He was afraid Sara would think he was already hoping she would move in with him. He knew there was a fragile side to her and didn’t want to upset her or scare her away. He looked at her, anticipating discomfort or a startled response. But his words didn’t even faze Sara. She just smiled at him and followed him into his house as if she really were at home. He was relieved and pleased.
“Nice place, Chip,” she said as she looked around his house. “Very cozy and inviting.”
Chip’s house was small but homey with hardwood floors throughout. He had chosen to decorate it in earth tones. He had a love of nature, so had picked shades of tan, deep green, brown, and burgundy for his walls, furnishings, and accessories. He felt most comfortable in an environment that reminded him of lush forests, the changing leaves on trees, and the rich hues of the soil. He was happy that Sara approved.
“Glad you like it,” he said. “Please make yourself at home while I go find the pictures. Would you like a glass of wine while you wait?”
“No thanks,” Sara answered. She plopped herself down on the brown leather sofa.
“Okay then. I’ll be back in a few.”
Chip climbed up into his attic and retrieved the wooden box that held his mother’s pictures and belongings. He hadn’t looked at them in a long time. He gently brushed the dust off with the back of his hand and the blew across the top of the box. He climbed down the ladder and protectively carried the treasured box to the living room, where Sara sat waiting for him, her shoulders sunk into the sofa and her legs curled up underneath her. She looked right at home, like she belonged there. As she looked at him, her eyes glimmered, and her subtle smile made him feel special. He was struck once again by her beauty. It wasn’t just her outward appearance that captured his attention, it was the inner beauty that she projected. He couldn’t help but feel totally at ease with her. It was as if she had cast a spell on him, and he was transfixed by her. What a lucky guy he was.
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