“What’s the dear’s name again?”
“Mavis Peterson,” Jessie yelled as she ran down the stairs in time to see her mother opening the door to the blue haired dynamo and her little devil dog.
“Good morning, Mavis, it is so nice to see you again,” her mother said as she received the basket of muffins.
“Gloria,” Mavis said, kissing the air on either side of her mother’s cheeks. “How long has it been?”
“Too long,” Gloria said as she inhaled the aroma of bran muffins. “Oh, these smell wonderful. I can’t wait to have one.”
“Me either,” Mavis said. “I missed having mine yesterday and paid the consequences this morning.”
Jessie tried to turn around at that comment, but was caught in the act of doing so.
“There’s our girl,” Mavis said cheerfully. “I don’t know what you two did last night, but my son was in a daze after meeting you,” she said with a meaningful smile.
“Your son?” Her mother asked, looking at her with a gleam in her eye.
Mavis was quick to produce her cell phone and proudly display a photo of him. “This is my Jonathan.”
“Oh, my goodness,” her mother said, nodding at Jessie as if, by the look of him alone, she approved. “Isn’t he a handsome one?” Jacques rolled his eyes.
“Voted most likely to succeed and the MVP of the high-school football team.”
“MVP?” Gloria questioned her while Jacques took the moment to point and nod as if this, too, backed up his story of boy wonder’s history with girls.
“Most valuable player,” Mavis said as she scrolled through her photos. And here is Jessie yesterday after her makeover.”
“Oh, look at that.” Her mom laughed. “That’s how I wore my hair back in the day. She looks just like me there.”
Could this get worse? Jessie wondered as Mavis scrolled to the next photo. “And here she is under the dryer.”
Jacques was craning his neck over both women in order to get a look. His expression was one of pure glee until the little dachshund snapped at him.
“It’s probably hard to tell it’s her,” Mavis said, setting the pooch down.
“Oh, no,” Gloria said. “I recognize her pajamas.”
“Uh—how about having one of those muffins?” Jessie interjected into the conversation before World War III broke out over Minnie. “Is the coffee done?”
“Yes, I’d love a muffin.” Gloria went to the coffee pot and retrieved it as Jessie had hoped she would.
Duke went after Jacques, nipping at his heels. “Ah-hah!” Jacques said softly, pointing to the little instigator as if he were to blame for all their trouble. Jacques did a replay from yesterday and disappeared under the fridge, leaving the little dog to scratch at the floor in front of it.
Jacques look pleased enough with himself as he rested on the top of the tall appliance. Jessie turned away to see her mother wiggling a finger in her ear with an odd look on her face.
“Mom, are you okay?” Jessie asked.
“I’m fine, dear.” Gloria smiled at her daughter. “I just have the strangest buzzing in my ears. “It almost sounded as if someone said ah-hah.” She laughed, shaking her head. “My ears probably still need to pop.” With that she put her fingers over her nose and blew.
Jessie’s eyes flew over to meet Jacques’s surprised gaze. A cold nose brushed her toes. Looking down, she caught Duke sniffing her feet with his leg raised. She danced away from him.
“Whatever is going on, Jessie?” her mom asked, watching her.
Instead of answering, Jessie looked over at Mavis, who had just seated herself at the table and seemed oblivious to the little monster. “Mavis, does Duke have a bladder infection?”
“I don’t believe so, dear.” Mavis asked, “Why?”
“Because I think he might need to go to the bathroom, and he’s all too interested in my feet.”
“Oh, I hadn’t considered that.” Mavis nodded. “Would you be a dear and let him outside?”
Would I ever! Jessie thought triumphantly as she opened the door and called the little wiener.
“You may need to give him a treat to get him to follow you,” Mavis said, offering up the solution. “He likes cheese.”
Jessie returned to the fridge, looking at Jacques who was now stretched across the top with one booted foot propped up on the fridge as he rested his back against the cupboard behind him. She scowled at him, annoyed that he could enjoy himself at her misery. He winked, grinning wickedly at her.
Doing her best to ignore him, Jessie headed out the door, calling the little devil dog as the phone began to ring.
“I’ll get it,” her mother called out and picked up the phone.
“Mom,” Jessie hollered. “I really want to talk to Aunt Katie if it’s her.”
“Hello,” her mom said into the receiver. “Katie!” she cried out. “Yes, it’s me.” She giggled. “Oh, yes. She’s here.” She paused to listen.
Jessie ran back inside with Mr. Widdle and set him down, waiting for her turn to talk.
“What’s that, hon?” Gloria seemed annoyed. “I can’t hear you. I think we must have a bad connection.”
Jessie watched as her mother switched the phone back to her other ear. “Oh all right,” her mother said while she waited impatiently.
“Jessie, your reminding me of when you were ten,” her mother scolded her. “No, not you,” Gloria said into the phone. “What’s that . . . the pool boy?” Mom rolled her eyes and glanced at Mavis, who was listening raptly.
In that moment, Jessie did indeed feel ten years old again and desperately wanted to rip the phone away from her mother.
“Why don’t you get on the other receiver in the living room,” Gloria whispered to her daughter as she set the telephone in the crook of her neck and proceeded to pour the coffee.
“I can’t believe it!” Jessie grumbled on her way down the hall. When she entered the living room, Jacques was lounging on the sofa.
“I thought you were going to stick up for yourself and stop letting nice little old ladies take advantage of you,” Jacques said as he ran the feather on his hat through his fingers.
“Really?” Jessie rolled her eyes. “A minute ago you thought she was a demon.”
“Eh,” he agreed.
“She’s my mother.” Jessie picked up the throw pillow so she could sit in the chair next to the antique phone. “And you have no room to talk about sticking up to one’s mother.” Jessie picked up the phone and placed her hand over the mouthpiece. “You let your mother marry you off to a troll, remember?”
“It’s true,” he sighed again.
“What troll, dear?” Gloria said. “Jessie, is that you on the line?”
“Yes, I’m here.” Jessie winced. “Hi, Aunt Kate,” she said.
“Ciao, Jessie,” her aunt cried happily over the crackling line. “I’m so glad that you have come to watch over my home.”
Jessie picked up immediately on the subtle innuendo. “Your home is fine.”
“Please don’t worry about the wiring,” she said worriedly. “I will have it looked at when I get back.”
“Katie, I said I would handle it.” Gloria spoke up from the other line.
“Mom,” Jessie sighed, rubbing her temple.
“Mavis is here, too, and said her son can look at it,” her mother added.
At that, the phone line went dead. Jessie hit the old-fashioned bar on the phone. “Hello?” She looked at Jacques, who threw up his hands innocently.
“Don’t look at me,” he said.
“Hello?” There was a voice on the line.
“Hello!” Jessie answered. “Aunt Katie, is that you?”
“Honey, why don’t you come back to the kitchen and have a cup of coffee with us?” her mom asked over the phone. “The connection was bad, but Katie said she’d call back later in the week if we lost her.”
Jessie hung up the phone and then screamed into a pillow on her lap.
Jacques raised a brow and watched on in amused silence. When finished, Jessie calmly fluffed the pillow and set it back on the chair. “Better?” he asked.
“Much,” Jessie said demurely as she stood and walked with dignity toward the kitchen, like a queen going into exile. She turned. “I want you to stay here, and when I return,” Jessie swallowed, “I cannot believe I’m going to say this, but I am going to shower, and I want you to come with me.”
Jacques lost his smile. “No.” He was immediately in front of her, placing his hands on each of her shoulders. “I will stay here,” he whispered. “But.”
“But?” Jessie wanted to groan.
“When you invite me to your shower it will not be to babysit me, but because you want me there, yes?” He smiled, kissing the end of her nose softly. With that he spun her around and lightly smacked her bottom. “Go get 'em tiger!”
~*~
Breakfast, it turned out, was uneventful. Mavis had to rush off to notarize an important document, but not before she invited them to dinner that night. And her mother, who had traveled all morning, wanted to go lie down. Jessie took her cup of coffee up to her room and sipped it as she sat on the bed looking over the other books. “What do you think of this one?” she asked Jacques, who was looking out the window to make sure Mavis didn’t double back.
“How to conduct a séance?” he asked, appearing next to her. “Do you need to reach me? Are we having communication problèmes?”
“No.” Jessie tossed it and picked up another. “Are you ready to find the light?”
“Non.” Jacques smiled.
“Then I think I’m off to the shower,” she said, watching his eyes become smoky with desire before he shrugged nonchalantly.
“Have a good one.” He smiled lazily.
She turned away from his heated gaze. Good heavens! She just might have to make it a cold one. She glanced over her shoulder when she reached the bathroom.
“I promise not to look,” Jacques said.
“It’s not that,” Jessie said. “I’m going out shopping today, and the idea of you and my mother under the same roof without me gives me indigestion.”
“Can I get you an antacid?”
“No, you can come with me,” Jessie said, and with that she closed the door.
~*~
One hour later, Jessie was standing in line at the Piggly Wiggly with creamer and a few other items in her basket, watching as Jacques rode the conveyer up to the checkout.
“Mommy, want—” a little boy in the cart behind her said, pointing at him. His mother looked to the ceiling where a balloon was stuck in the rafters.
“It’s a balloon, baby,” she answered. “It’s too high for Mommy to get.”
Jacques waved at the little one who moved his little fingers.
Jessie looked at the small child and smiled. At least she and her aunt weren’t the only ones that could see him. She found herself wondering why they could when everyone else was blind to him . . . and his antics. She watched as he pretended to be a balloon and floated around like one on a string. The next thing she knew, he was hitting his head on the ceiling. He bobbed around as he freed the balloon and then drifted around slowly, pulling it so that it sank within reach of the little boy.
Unfortunately the balloon popped as soon as the youngster held the string. Jacques’s reaction, however, delighted the youngster who giggled at the mishap.
“He likes it when balloons pop.” His mother smiled with a confused shrug.
When they left the store, Jacques returned the little boy’s bye-bye wave. “He’s cute.”
“Adorable,” Jessie said, waving too. “Did you ever have children?” she asked, thinking he’d make a wonderful father. What am I thinking? Would have been a wonderful father, she corrected herself.
“Non,” he said it sadly.
His answer surprised her. “Did you want them?”
“Of course!” He looked surprised. “What man doesn’t?”
Now it was her turn to be shocked. “Most of the men living in the 21st century I’m guessing. I know my ex-husband never did.”
“He is an idiot, n'est-ce pas?” Jacques gestured with his hand as he spoke.
“Oui!” Jessie wholeheartedly agreed. They passed an older couple who were walking along the sidewalk in front of the strip mall. They looked at her oddly as she chatted away with herself. “Merry Christmas.” Jessie smiled. They returned the greeting, but kept their distance.
“You will soon be known as crazy Kate’s niece if you keep talking to yourself like that,” Jacques teased.
“And you would just love to see that, wouldn’t you?” Jessie whispered under her breath.
He laughed in answer. “Look!” He pointed to a woman coming out of a store. “It’s is none other than the busy bee herself, Miss Patricia Parker.”
Jessie looked where he was pointing. A woman with white blonde hair, false eyelashes, and the shortest skirt she’d ever seen was walking out of a storefront with The Enchantress written across the front windows. Considering the woman made Dolly Parton look flat chested, she thought it fitting.
“She’s the biggest celebrity this town has to offer,” he supplied.
“I think I can see why,” Jessie said and was further stunned when she started to cross the parking lot. She stared, dumbfounded, as her own personal fantasy, Thor, a.k.a. Jonathan Peterson, stepped out of his truck, swooped the woman into his arms, and planted a big kiss on her red mouth.
She looked over at Jacques, who was smiling the smile of someone who has been well and truly vindicated.
“Do I need to say I told you so?” he asked.
“Um—yes.” Jessie rolled her eyes. “Yes, I think you should say it at least once more, and then I never want to hear it again,” she laughingly warned as they continued to walk.
“You are upset?” Jacques asked.
“No,” Jessie said, happy that it was the truth.
“What about your date with him?”
“I actually feel a little sorry for the guy.” She laughed. “He’s obviously having a hard time getting the women in his life together. Can you just imagine Mavis the blue haired dynamo and the over developed busy bee together at the same dinner table?” She chuckled before casting a more serious gaze toward him. “I don’t, however, appreciate being played by the big guy.”
“He played with all the girls.” Jacques waved off the comment. “I did tell you.”
“Yes, you did,” Jessie said as they continued to walk toward her car. She stopped to look at the window that the busy bee had emerged from minutes before. It had been decorated for the Christmas season. Jessie gazed at the assorted stars that dangled from golden streamers, feathered dream catchers, and a stuffed hound dog.
“Let’s go in here,” Jessie said brightly.
“I can’t,” Jacques said. “I’ll wait here.”
“Can’t or won’t?” she asked.
“Can’t.” Jacques shrugged his shoulders.
“Why?”
“I think it might be the dream catchers,” he whispered.
“You and your dreams,” Jessie sighed. “Okay then, suit yourself.” She entered the shop by herself and picked up the hound dog in the window. Unable to resist the urge to wave like the little boy had at him, Jessie made the dog’s paw move, discovering to her delight that it sang, “I’ll Have a Blue Christmas,” when you pressed it.
“Will that be all?” the clerk asked when Jessie set her items on the counter.
“Yes.” Jessie smiled at the woman who looked to be part Native American and part gypsy.
The woman rang her up and placed her goodies in a bag. “That’ll be nineteen dollars and seventeen cents.”
Jessie handed her a twenty, accidently touching the woman’s fingers.
“Ah,” the woman gasped. “There is a dark presence around you.”
“Excuse me?” Jessie asked, looking into the woman’s wide dark eyes.
“I see the one made of s
moke and mirrors.” The woman’s voice sounded strangled.
Jessie stared at the woman, who looked to be seeing beyond her to something else. Jessie glanced back at Jacques worriedly. He waved cheerfully as she turned back.
“Nothing is as it seems. . . . A predator lurks in the mist.” The woman appeared to be in a trance. Her eyes were wild and unseeing as she spoke.
“A predator?” Jessie asked.
“A demon.” The woman’s horror filled eyes focused once again on Jessie.
“Okay,” Jessie said slowly. “Keep the change.” She picked up her sack and ran from the store.
“What is it?” Jacques asked when she joined him.
“I can see why you don’t go in there.” Jessie looked around frantically. “Let’s go home.”
They walked back to the car quickly. Jessie clicked the locks open, placed her sacks in the back, and quickly climbed inside.
The woman from the store came out to call after them. “Remember my warning!”
Jacques looked back at her and then to Jesse. “Did you steal that doggie?”
“No, I didn’t steal it,” Jessie said as she fumbled with the keys to start the engine.
“What happened back there?” Jacques asked, appearing beside her in the passenger seat.
“Nothing,” Jessie said, visibly shaken. “Why can’t you go in there? And don’t tell me it’s the dream catchers,” Jessie said, pulling out a feathered disc from the sack in the back and tossing it on the dash. “You are still here.”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “Maybe she keeps some kind of talisman in there.”
“Why am I having a hard time believing that?” Jessie glanced over at him, before continuing angrily, “And if that’s the case, don’t you think we should discover exactly what it is so that no one can use it against you?”
Jacques’s eyes suddenly widened in alarm. “Jessie.” Panicked, he reached out to her with one hand as the other went to his chest.
“What?” She watched as he was ripped through the seat and into the back. “Jacques, what is it?” She grabbed the dream catcher and threw it out the window.
“No, it’s the curio,” he said weakly before being ripped from the car and disappearing from view.
“Jacques!” Jessie screamed. Throwing the car into gear, she drove out of the shopping center, spinning her tires as she passed the Christmas tree lot on the corner and sped toward home.
Treasure of the Jaguar Warrior - Mystery of the Mayan Calendar Page 7
