by Jeane Watier
“What else can you see? You said I’ll marry and have children. I guess that’s a common desire for someone my age, but do you know details? I mean, I don’t see it happening anytime soon; I just broke up with my boyfriend.”
“Yes, and I can tell that was a good decision. But someone new isn’t far away.”
“Not far away?” Cassandra questioned. “Are you talking about time or distance?”
“I’m not sure,” Sophia laughed. “It could mean either, or both. Don’t get too caught up in the details; you’ll find him easiest when you’re not looking.”
Cassandra was dumbfounded. She was right about me wanting to do something bigger with my life, and now she tells me I’m going to meet someone. Could that be true as well?
“We still have time,” Sophia remarked casually. “I have some things I’d like to tell you. Maybe you could write them down.”
“Sure.” Cassandra had no idea what her aunt was referring to or why time was an issue, but she was happy to help. “Do you have paper, a writing pad?”
“No, dear,” the old woman shook her head. “We’ve covered enough for today. We’ll begin tomorrow. Why don’t you come here in the morning?” She looked right through Cassandra again and nodded. “Around ten o’clock.”
“All right,” Cassandra agreed. “My plane doesn’t leave until six. Mother’s having a garden party in the afternoon, but I could come by in the morning.”
Sensing that their visit was complete, she stood up to leave. Sophia walked her to the door and hugged her affectionately. As Cassandra went down the stairs, her mind replayed their conversation. Her aunt’s uncanny knowing had left her strangely elated. She felt something significant was about to happen, yet she had no idea what it could be.
As she reached for the handle of the heavy outer door, someone came running up the front steps and burst through from the other side. She had just enough time to step back and avoid being hit.
“Oh, sorry,” a man said. “I didn’t see you.”
It was the same young man she’d seen leaving the building when she arrived. “Do you always move this fast?” Cassandra asked, annoyed. She couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened had her aunt been in his way. “There are elderly people in this building. Someone less agile might not have been able to get out of the way as quickly as I did.”
“I said I was sorry,” the man responded with a definite edge to his voice. “Besides, you were on the wrong side. Anyone who lives here knows to open the right hand door, not the left.”
Cassandra walked away without replying. Whether she’d been in the wrong or not, there was no excuse for his rude behavior. She could picture him treating her aunt the same way and immediately began worrying about the older woman’s safety. Then she remembered Sophia’s comment about worry. Although unconventional, her aunt’s way of thinking made sense. Cassandra had to admit it was refreshing.
As her thoughts returned to her aunt, she softened. She’d always held the woman in high esteem, admiring her convictions even though she couldn’t relate to her choices. Sophia Langdon had lived a long, full, interesting life, and Cassandra’s curiosity rose as she tried to imagine what she wanted her to write down. Whatever it was, it seemed important to her, and Cassandra was glad to be part of it. On top of that, she was eager to spend more time with her perceptive old aunt.
JACE SCOWLED at the woman walking away from him. Who does she think she is, coming around here, dressed to the nines in her designer clothes with her designer bag? She looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine. Boy, is she in the wrong neighborhood.
Had he seen her in a magazine, he might have noticed how good looking she was or how her long sweater fit the curves of her body. All he could see in the moment was a rich bitch who had the nerve to come into his building and tell him how he should act. He did, however, notice the sleek, silver Aston Martin she walked up to. But instead of appreciation for the prestigious vehicle, he felt disgust for a woman who had the nerve to parade her obvious wealth in front of others—others she was well aware didn’t have the opportunities she’d been given in life.
Jace turned away, suddenly remembering why he’d been running in the first place. It had taken him longer than anticipated to replace the broken tap at his mom’s. He sprinted up the stairs, changed quickly, and took off to meet Chad.
During the two-hour train ride into the city, Jace described the morning’s encounter to his friend. The two began discussing how the rich controlled Port Hayden, how the middle class was disappearing, and how trying to get ahead in life was an exercise in futility. Chad liked to play devil’s advocate, and they often ended up debating topics they’d initially agreed upon. It frustrated Jace. Chad didn’t take life seriously; he stumbled his way through by chance. Ironically, the haphazard lifestyle worked for him. Luck was on his side more often than not. Jace couldn’t understand that. It didn’t seem fair.
The topic of the woman at Jace’s apartment came up again as they sat in the crowded stadium, drinking beer and eating spicy nachos. “You should have heard her, though,” Jace stressed, disgust evident in his tone. “She acted like she owned the place.”
“Maybe she does,” Chad shrugged. “Either that, or she represents the company that owns it.”
“No, it’s privately owned. I met the guy once, last year. He manages it himself.”
“Maybe she’s looking at buying it,” Chad offered.
Jace hadn’t considered that. It was a possibility, and it explained why someone like her would be in his neighborhood. His frustration grew as he contemplated it. She was obviously interested in the land. Real estate in that area was being bought up and developed at an alarming rate. His building would no doubt be torn down to make room for yet another high rise.
Inwardly, Jace seethed. He had no use for the aristocracy who believed they owned the city and were free to do with it as they pleased, regardless of the impact on its citizens. His anger was directed toward the woman who’d been in his building that morning, largely because of what she represented, and now he wished he’d given her a piece of his mind.
CASSANDRA SPENT a contented afternoon walking in the gardens, playing with the dogs, and swimming laps in the pool. When her mother had to run out to an emergency meeting for one of her charity organizations, Cassandra suggested to her father that they have a casual evening meal together.
“My thoughts exactly, kitten,” he winked. “And the timing couldn’t be better. The game’s on. Come and see the theatre I had installed last month.”
She followed her father to the back of the house where the family room she’d known as a child had been transformed into a sophisticated home theatre. She gazed in awe at the mammoth screen, cinematic decor, and luxurious leather recliners. The window had been removed and the walls covered with panels to absorb and diffuse the sound. Soft lighting on the floor and walls gave the room an authentic movie theater feel. “Wow! How’d you manage this?” Cassandra shook her head, laughing. “Mother was adamant about making this into a conservatory. She had plans drawn up and everything. How did you get her to change her mind?”
“I finally agreed to accompany her to Europe,” he grinned sheepishly. “It will mean three months of her dragging me into boutiques, eating ridiculous foods I despise in restaurants smaller than this room, and worst of all, visiting her uptight friends and their boring husbands. But wait till you hear the sound in here,” he added with sudden enthusiasm.
“Oh Daddy,” Cassandra chuckled, giving her father a kiss on the cheek. “You never cease to amaze me.”
They settled into the comfortable chairs to watch hockey, enjoying the meal delivered to them by the kitchen staff. Cassandra was familiar with the game, having watched many times with her father over the years, so she followed the play with interest. During commercial breaks, they picked up conversation where they’d last left it.
“I had an interesting visit with Aunt Sophia this morning.”
“Ho
w so?”
“Well…,” she hesitated, not quite sure how to describe the unusual exchange. “She told me some things.”
“What kinds of things?” The game was on again, but he remained focused on his daughter.
“About my future…it was weird. She told me I was going to meet my husband soon. I don’t know about that,” Cassandra added wryly. “But she also told me there’s something bigger I want to do with my life.” Laying a hand on her father’s arm, she looked him in the eye. “She’s right, Daddy, I’ve been feeling it. I just don’t know what it is.”
“Give it time, kitten.” Her father stroked her cheek lovingly. “It’ll reveal itself. I’d listen to what she has to say if I were you. Sophia has an uncanny way of knowing.” He shook his head. “A few years ago she told me that a partnership I was involved in was about to go sour. I took her advice and pulled out. Saved me a lot of money and probably some legal battles as well.”
“She said she has more to tell me. Even suggested I write it down.”
“About what? Did she say?”
“No, she asked me to come by tomorrow,” Cassandra replied. “And Daddy, she said not to worry about her because she still has things to do before she goes.”
“Hmm…,” her father frowned. “I wonder what she meant by that.”
“Do you think she actually knows when she’s going to die?” Cassandra asked, not expecting an answer. “Do you think anyone can know that?”
“Hard to say, kitten,” he mumbled. His attention was on the screen in front of them. Their team had scored to tie the game with less than a minute remaining.
Cassandra smiled. He was right; her future would reveal itself; her questions would be answered. She sat back, content to enjoy the cozy evening with her father as she joined him in cheering for their favorite team.
THE CROWD STOOD to its feet. The game was tied three-three, and the teams were facing off in sudden-death overtime. Jace drank in the excitement, the rush of adrenaline. The atmosphere was electric. Throughout the stadium, fans in home-team colors cheered in unison at every move their players made. Surrounding him were comrades with a single desire—seeing their team win.
Then it happened. Less than a minute into the overtime period, their team’s star player got a breakaway and rifled a shot at the top right-hand corner of the net. Jace held his breath. The puck went in; the players’ hands went up in victory; the crowd went wild.
Jace let himself get caught up in the euphoria. He’d never before been that close to victory, and he liked the heady feeling it evoked. Nothing had happened to him, yet his world had for the moment become bigger and brighter. Even the future seemed to offer more hope than before. He was tempted to question it, to analyze it, but quickly let that go. Life was too unpredictable. A feeling like that didn’t come along every day, and he wanted to make the most of it.
CHAPTER 4
CASSANDRA AWOKE, eager for the day ahead. Her curiosity had been building, and she couldn’t wait to learn what her aunt wanted her to write down. She and her father had concluded that it must be Sophia’s life story. If that were so, Cassandra was touched that her aunt wanted her to document it. Lady Sophia Langdon had certainly led an interesting life. Regardless of who wrote her memoirs, it would be a compelling read. But is that to be my great work? she pondered. It’s an honor for sure, and yet… She shook her head. It didn’t quite match the “something bigger” that had been calling her. No, it’s more than that; I can feel it.
She opted to borrow her father’s laptop and a small voice recorder, which she slipped into her pocket. The items helped her feel prepared as she left for her aunt’s place. Only one parking spot was available on the street near the apartment building, and Cassandra pulled in with ease. She enjoyed driving her father’s Aston Martin. It was an impressive vehicle, and it handled like a dream. A custom order, the paint color changed from luminous silver to fiery copper depending on the direction a person looked at it. The interior was luxurious with hand-stitched leather and oil-finished African mahogany.
As she walked up the steps to the main doors, she was reminded of the fellow she’d run into the previous day and sincerely hoped she wouldn’t see him again. She considered herself easygoing, but occasionally she came across a person who, like that man, pushed her patience to the limit—someone whom she suspected was capable of good manners when it served him yet made a habit of being impolite and disrespectful. She hoped he would treat her aunt with more courtesy.
Taking a moment to breathe deeply, she swept the unpleasant thoughts from her mind. It was ten o’clock, and she knocked on her aunt’s door, excited to begin.
“Cassandra, my dear.” Sophia sounded surprised. “How lovely to see you.”
“Aunt Sophia,” Cassandra frowned. “You asked me to come by this morning. You said you had something you wanted to tell me. I’ve brought a computer so I can take notes.”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Sophia shook her head. “Shall we have a cup of tea?”
“Sure…” Cassandra began to wonder whether her aunt was as clear about what she wanted her to write as she had been the day before. She’s eighty-seven, after all. Maybe she’s starting to lose her memory. I hope not. It’ll be a shame if she can’t recall her past clearly. With that, Cassandra began to think how she might fill in missing details. I could interview people that knew her, look up articles about her in newspaper archives, maybe see what information the local library has on Port Hayden and its residents.
Sophia poured their tea and invited her grandniece to join her in the living room. Once seated, she looked Cassandra in the eye. “I haven’t always had an easy life.”
Not wanting to miss anything, Cassandra reached into her jacket pocket and discreetly turned on the voice recorder.
“I always believed that my life was what I made it,” Sophia continued. “But I thought the making of it involved hard work, pain, and sacrifice.”
“Should I be taking notes?”
“Oh, no dear.” Sophia sat back and sipped her tea. “I’m just telling you what not to do.” She laughed softly and turned away for a moment, her eyes gazing upward. “But you’ll make your own mistakes. That’s how we learn, how we know what we want in life. My mistake was to fight against what I didn’t want. I didn’t know that pushing against problems only makes them bigger. I was an activist—that’s what they called me. It sounds virtuous and valiant, but it was just me trying to change the world by my own puny efforts. There’s a better way.” She smiled at Cassandra. “Write this down.”
Opening the computer, Cassandra felt a tingle as her hands hovered over the keys, poised and eager to begin typing.
“We’re all part of a great big universe. It’s an organized system, a well-oiled machine with perfection and order at the heart of it.” She nodded as if to affirm her own statement and then added, “The only reason people run around helter-skelter is that they believe they’re separate, and they’re trying to control their life or change their environment by hard work.”
Cassandra was glad she could type fast; she didn’t want to ask her aunt to slow down or repeat herself. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting to hear, yet she was spellbound as she listened.
Sophia explained that the universe was governed by basic principles. “The first is that all things are one. Everything originates from a powerful Source, is made of the same substance, and reacts the same way. Each of us is part of that Source, and all that we do is regulated by that power.”
Cassandra stopped typing. She didn’t want to interrupt, but she was curious. It was obvious her aunt wasn’t talking about a traditional God or organized religion. “Aunt Sophia, I don’t understand. If a power like that exists, why are so many unaware of it?”
“More people are aware of it than you may think, dear,” Sophia replied. “In fact, anyone who asks receives the answer. That’s how the system works.” She went on to tell Cassandra about the energy that connects all and the positive nature of it.
She spoke again of order and harmony.
“I remember learning about energy in school,” Cassandra said, recalling that everything when broken down to its smallest form was essentially energy. “But how do you know there’s perfection and harmony at the heart of it? It’s a nice thought, but…” She shook her head.
“Some things can’t be proved by science…or maybe they can,” Sophia chuckled. “They just haven’t been yet. Sometimes things need to be believed to be seen.”
Cassandra was quick to correct her elderly aunt. “You mean they need to be seen to be believed, don’t you, Aunt Sophia?”
“No, dear,” Sophia stressed. “That’s where we’ve had it wrong. You have to believe first. Once you believe, you’ll start to see life differently.”
Cassandra felt a comforting connection to what she was hearing. Her aunt’s views, unconventional though they were, resonated deeply. “Go on,” she encouraged when the older woman didn’t continue. “This is interesting; I’d like to hear more.”
Sophia sat back with a contented sigh. “I think that’s enough for today.” She took another sip of her tea and looked at Cassandra indirectly, the way she had the day before. “Don’t overlook the obvious, my dear. Sometimes what you’re looking for is right in front of you.”
“But what am I looking for?” Cassandra responded, hoping for wisdom from her insightful, old aunt.
“Your dreams, your desires,” Sophia explained. “You’ve been asking. The Universe has already answered. You just have to let them in.”
“Let what in?” Cassandra asked, totally confused. “I don’t even know what I want.”
“You don’t always ask with words, but the Universe knows your desires down to the tiniest detail. Your thoughts create a grid, a framework that the Universe fills in with specifics. Your job is to trust that what you want is coming to you in the perfect way, at the perfect time. Then just enjoy life, have fun, and be open to new ideas and new people.”
New ideas? New people? Cassandra petitioned silently. How will I know?
