by Iris Kincaid
That got a big laugh from his family, and Martine finally felt herself able to relax just the tiniest little bit.
“This area is full of Morgans,” his father explained. It’s very common in the fishing community. Ironic, since he’s the only one who decided not to make his living on the sea.”
“Ouch. I just lost five bucks. I said it would take half an hour to bring that up tonight, and Piper said five minutes. Dad, you just cost me five bucks.”
“Gambling, is it?” Morgan’s grandmother clucked disapprovingly. “You make a very bad impression on this young lady of yours, Morgan. She’ll think that you’re the kind to fritter away every paycheck at the dog track.”
“There is no dog track! You all are just making stuff up to get me in trouble.”
By now, Crew had wrapped his arms around one of Martine’s legs and was standing on her shoe. In his upturned face, Martine again glimpsed the features of the older boy he would become.
“Crew, honey, don’t stand on Morgan’s girlfriend,” Coral said.
Martine and Morgan exchanged a quick glance, with him wondering how much it freaked her out to be called his girlfriend. She looked surprisingly undisturbed. For her part, Martine was ever mindful of that rather intimate scenario on the boat that appeared to be her and Morgan’s destiny. She was most definitely going to be his girlfriend.
“It’s not a problem. I guess he must remember me,” Martine said.
“Of course, he does,” Coral said. “Anchor, why don’t you take the kids outside and let them play on the trampoline until dinner’s ready? You too, Piper. It’s best with two adults watching.”
“Oh, I saw your trampoline on our way in. Your kids are so lucky. I wish I’d had something like that when I was growing up,” Martine said.
“You can come with us. You can play on our trampoline. You’re big. I bet you can bounce really high,” Sailor offered.
“I bet I can too.”
“It’s too bad she wasn’t here for my birthday party. We had this big gigantic bouncy house. It was so big, even uncle Morgan could fit inside,” Bay said.
“You were bouncing inside the bouncy house?” Martine asked, impressed.
“I was just there to weigh it down and make sure that the whole thing didn’t blow away,” Morgan explained sheepishly.
“He did big somersaults, forward and backward. And belly flops, like the kind you do into a pool.”
“I’m very sorry to have missed it.”
“Maybe next year,” Bay said helpfully.
Even the youngest ones had already assumed that Martine was going to be a fixture in their lives. The three children and Martine, Morgan, Anchor, and Piper all trooped out to the backyard to jump and await the arrival of dinner.
“She likes children,” Morgan’s grandmother said as Martine was leaving the room.
Holy cow. These people had some serious plans for her!
*****
At the dinner table, everyone wanted to hear about Martine’s family and background. She had gone over this drill so recently in a therapy session, but the Beaumonts had a much more emotional response.
“So, your parents died on the water. It’s a tragedy that happens time and again, no matter what part of the world you’re living in. Morgan’s uncle, Meryl’s brother, was lost to the sea. It was a big storm. A killer storm. Their boat didn’t stand a chance.”
He was clearly a well-remembered, well-loved loss to the Beaumont family. It was a constant risk for all fishing families, and now patriarch Remy and son Anchor continue to face the dangers of the sea. Not to mention Piper, who had just joined the Coast Guard. Coral had captained a tugboat in her younger days, and she still toyed with the idea returning to it when her children were older. Family from the sea, indeed.
“My Uncle Pierre was a fisherman, and he never wanted to tell me how my parents died. I didn’t know for years. He was worried that it would make me afraid of the sea. He would always say, ‘The sea is a glorious thing. Don’t ever want you to fear it.’”
“Wise man. He was very right. Morgan will take you out on his boat. Everyone should enjoy the sea.”
After dinner, the children were fighting for Martine’s attention. Bay wanted her to dance to their latest dance video game program.
“That’s something I would be really bad at. I don’t dance.”
That announcement was greeted with stunned silence.
“What do you mean you don’t dance? Is that some kind of religious thing?” Grandmother Clara asked.
“No, I don’t have any objection to dancing. I’ve just never done it,” Martine said, only just realizing how unusual that was. “I . . . was sick for most of my life. And I spent the last two years in a wheelchair,” she said. She turned to Morgan. “That was my wheelchair in the living room. And the reason my bed is in the living room is because it was such a pain to get my wheelchair in and out of the bedroom. I just had a bone marrow transplant right before I met you. And it made me well. It made me walk. But it didn’t teach me how to dance. Anyway, that’s why I’ve never danced.”
Morgan’s family regarded him with amazement and annoyance.
“How come you didn’t know about this? She’s got a wheelchair in her living room and you didn’t know about this? That is so lame,” Piper scolded.
Morgan was in too much shock, taking in this new information, to defend himself.
“Well, my dear. Everyone in this family knows how to dance. There is no way for you to avoid it,” Meryl said.
The remainder of the evening was filled with dancing lessons. Grandmother Clara demonstrated some essential swing dance moves. Morgan’s father, Remy, thought that Martine should be shown the essentials of the basic waltz. Anchor attempted to share his best hip-hop moves. Older sister Coral busted out the Bollywood moves she had used to get back in shape after her kids were born.
Each time someone touched her, Martine had the briefest flash of a scene stolen from their future. The most alarming of which was Morgan’s father dancing this same waltz with her, except that he was wearing a tux at what appeared to be a sizeable wedding!
Martine needed to go home and lie down. She had just met her future, and it was just a little bit terrifying.
*****
The previous evening most definitely called for a debriefing, but not with the psychiatrist. Martine needed to discuss her premonitions without being seen as a lunatic. Delphine Sykes kindly agreed to meet her on the pier, where Martine waited, mesmerized by the lovely colors of the oncoming sunset.
She brought Mr. Lucky along. It just seemed wrong for a cat to have enjoyed so much freedom and then to be cooped up in her apartment. Hopefully, he had learned his lesson about running up tall trees.
Delphine took a seat beside her, almost as if appearing out of thin air.
“I see you have a new friend. What’s his name?”
“Mr. Lucky. I met him because of those forecasts. Those premonitions. He was going to be killed in a car crash. So, I went over to get him out of the way. The car crash still happened, but no one was hurt. Maybe there was some way I could have prevented that too, but I just couldn’t think of it. Anyway, here he is. No owner, no home. So, what could I do?”
“He looks very grateful. Have there been any other noteworthy forecasts?”
“That’s really why I wanted to talk to you. ’Cause I’ve met this guy. And we barely know each other. But the forecasts are telling me that we get to know each other really, really well. Which is a strange thing to know about before it actually happens, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve already met his family—his big, crazy family.
“They want to build a house for him and me and name our children Tilapia, Mackerel, and Blowfish. So, it’s not just a matter him. It’s a matter of them, all of them. And I’m not really a family person. I’m a solo person. This whole thing is freaking me out six ways to Sunday. Isn’t it wrong to know so much about the future?”
It would have been so easy for Del
phine to show Martine a way to block out all of these premonitions – negate her new power and pretend as if it had never existed. But that would have been allowing her to surrender to her first, fearful impulses. And ignorance. Better to allow Martine to experience the full strength of her powers, uncensored, and later, to make an informed decision about controlling them.
“Does knowing what’s going to happen change your behavior?”
“Maybe. I think I’m a little nicer to him. I still have to find a way to get along with his family. Like I said, they are a bit much.”
“I can certainly understand that, living alone myself, and quite happily so.”
“Me too.”
“No, not you too. You have a very different destiny, I think.”
“But is it really destiny? I had that vision about Mr. Lucky dying, and then I did something to change what was supposed to happen. Doesn’t that mean that all of these visions can be changed by something that I do or don’t do?”
“Saving that cat was an absolute waste of energy,” Lilith groused. “He’s about as useful a familiar as a squirrel. No innate talent whatsoever. He will not strengthen her powers.”
“He was not brought into her life to strengthen her powers. He is here to teach her to care for something outside of herself and to protect and to love. These are all lessons that have been absent in her life.”
“And she is all the stronger because of it. She has the independence. The skepticism. The distance required to pursue our goals.”
“Our goals? Let her satisfy her own first. That doesn’t mean she will never be able to shed some light on the identity of your enemy. But you must consider the possibility that she will be all the stronger and in a better position to assist you after she has achieved her own happiness.”
“Her familiar couldn’t get himself out of a tree! I think you make a virtue of weakness.”
“Let us see what unfolds. This is the most difficult to control of all of your powers. You must give her all the time she needs.”
“Yes, you can defy those visions and take action to change them. The big question is—are you so sure that you don’t want this future?”
Martine wasn’t sure about anything. Like everyone, she had a vague notion that she had free will and that she could choose what was going to happen in her life. But these visions weren’t just some sort of vague desire, some wishy-washy daydreams. They were filled with specifics—granite marble countertops and stainless appliances kind of specifics.
Last night, Sailor and Bay had all but called her auntie Martine! Did she really want that?
*****
Stone Hearth was Martine’s favorite pizza joint. They had delivered to her for years. Now that she was on her feet, it was nice to finally step in the door and smell all kinds of garlicky goodness wafting through the air and chat with the cheery, flirtatious staff who offered her free wine samples as she waited for her date.
Her “date” was Piper, Morgan’s sister. There was no resisting the determination of the Beaumont family to get to know her better, and Martine was willing to go with the flow, for now. The inside of the restaurant was dark and romantic, the perfect intimate environment to get to know one’s future sister-in-law!
Piper had all the lightheartedness of her family, but she was dead serious about the Coast Guard career.
“Every year, we heard about emergency situations. Sometimes, things turned out fine. Sometimes, they didn’t. I remember how helpless I used to feel when I was younger. I wanted to do something. Just to have a chance to try and help do something. And then, there was knowing that one day, it might be my family out there that needed me. So, yeah, joined the Coast Guard.”
“The family must be very proud of you.”
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s almost as good as having gone into fishing. Poor Morgan. We give him a hard time, and don’t tell anyone, but I’m so glad that he didn’t go into the family business. It’s just so dangerous. It saps my energy plenty just be worried about my dad and Anchor and all of our neighbors.”
“Yes, I did get the impression that your father wasn’t all that thrilled about the whole cable news producer thing.”
“It took real toughness for Morgan to break away from what the family wanted for him. But you can’t just give your child a name and expect them to fall into the life that you’ve chosen. Morgan Magellan Beaumont wanted to pick his own life.”
“Magellan? Seriously?”
“You didn’t know? Didn’t you wonder where the name of his boat came from?”
“I haven’t been on his boat yet.”
“Really? Oh, you’ll like it a lot. But don’t like it too much. We still want Morgan to get a house near the family eventually. I know he needs his privacy, but things are so much more fun when he’s around.”
From the time she met him, Martine had been aware of Morgan’s confident air, even bordering on cockiness. But what was starting to dawn on her was that his supreme security stemmed from the adoration of his family. So much so that they were prepared to love anyone who would make him happy.
But then, none of them knew about her witch abilities. Who would want that in their family?
*****
As she and Piper went their separate ways after lunch, Martine became aware that the restaurant right next door was Le Bistro, the five-star restaurant that Theodore Kingston was supposed to take his mother to for her special birthday dinner the following month.
She stepped inside. It was probably a good idea to cancel the reservation, if someone hadn’t already. A pretty young hostess greeted her.
“You have a dinner reservation for next month listed, name of Theodore Kingston. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but that reservation has to be canceled.”
A busboy was passing by right that moment, and he made a face. “The Destroyer,” he muttered, just loud enough to hear.
The hostess gave him a warning glance. Clearly, The Destroyer’s identity was out of the bag.
“Could I speak to the owner?” Martine asked insistently.
Jody Archers was in a good mood until Martine brought up the issue of Theodore Kingston. She hustled Martine to a back table to avoid alarming the customers.
“How did you find out that Theodore Kingston was The Destroyer?”
“Are you a reporter?”
“I am . . . representing the concerns of Mr. Kingston’s estate,” Martine said, trying to improvise. “His life insurance was withheld because he committed suicide. So, it needs to be determined whether he did, indeed, commit suicide, or whether he was murdered. If you know that he was The Destroyer, then you also know that a lot of people were pretty angry with him. Did he ever give your restaurant a bad review?”
“No. I was lucky. He hadn’t gotten around to me yet. But he would have. Doesn’t matter how good the food. It doesn’t matter how talented the chef. Apparently, that was his thing—destroying the businesses of hard-working people.”
“So, how did you find out?”
“Desert Lily got a terrible review in April. And Carson’s got a Destroyer review in June. Those are five-star restaurants that require a reservation. There are not that many of us, and I could just feel it, that I was going to be next. I asked to see their reservation books to see who was on both lists and also to correlate the dates of the visits with the dates of the reviews, which would always come about twenty-four hours afterward. It was Theodore Kingston. And I looked at my own reservation book, and I could see that he was coming.”
“What did you do?”
“I got all of the restaurant owners together. As many as I could. And I warned them. I told them who Theodore Kingston was and what damage he could do to their business.”
“What did you hope to accomplish?”
“Every single one of us has the right to refuse service to anyone. There’s no reason that we should open our doors to this man and indulge his passion for destruction. I just thought that the rest of the owners should be able t
o make an informed decision, not just sit there like a target. We have to have some control over our own lives, after all.”
“Some of them must’ve been furious, though. Those who had already gotten bad reviews.”
“Of course. There was a lot of shouting, a lot of anger at the meeting. It’s no surprise that they’d be deeply disturbed about Mr. Kingston’s wanton disregard for the financial havoc he was wreaking.”
“And threats? Against Mr. Kingston? Anyone so upset that they would have decided to destroy him?”
Judy looked away uncomfortably. “Of course, I wondered about that myself. That night, and afterward. But I can’t take responsibility for that. I’m not the one who drove him to desperation.”
“Drove whom? Drove whom to desperation?”
“Um . . . I was thinking of Joel Isaac. He was particularly vocal about what he thought Mr. Kingston deserved.”
Joel Isaac was the restaurant owner to whom Martine had refused to provide the identity of The Destroyer because he had just seemed a little too prone to violence. He had managed to find out. But what had he done about it?
CHAPTER SEVEN
*****
Jeremy was quite interested in this latest update. He and Martine thought, why not go in and have a chat with Jason Isaac? Hopefully, before he got too caught up with the dinner crowd. But at five P.M., the down home Southern restaurant was eerily empty, and as they were soon to find out, there wasn’t going to be a big dinner crowd.
Isaac recognized Martine and was not terribly pleased to see her.
“Well, if it isn’t the useful hacker.”
“Seems you didn’t really need my services. You still managed to find out who The Destroyer was.”
“Yeah. I had Jody to thank for that. Just wish I could’ve saved myself the way she did. But for me, it came too late.”
“Whether Martine told you about Theodore Kingston’s identity, or whether you learned from Jody, it was arguably too late in either case,” Jeremy reminded him. “The review had already been written, and the damage to your business had already been done. So, what, exactly, did you stand to gain from uncovering The Destroyer’s identity?”
