“She’s great with the kids,” I said.
“Yes, she is. But now that Layla’s gone, I’m not sure what to do.”
“I’m sure the board would love it if you’d stay. But you don’t have to decide anything right now. Just take your time.”
I left Highway 12 at Montana Ridge Road and we wound our way toward Dharma. I was giving Alice some pointers on setting up book craft classes as we turned onto Shakespeare Lane, the two-block-long stretch of shops and restaurants that constituted the epicenter of downtown Dharma.
“You were right,” she whispered, looking from side to side as we drove past the pretty shops and tree-lined sidewalks. “It’s beautiful. You’re so lucky you grew up here.”
“I think so,” I said, smiling as I glanced around. “It cleans up pretty well, I must say.”
And I was willing to bet it beat a nun-infested Catholic boarding school by a mile.
I found a parking space a block from the main drag and we walked to Annie’s store. On the way, I pointed out the tasting room our winery operated, along with two good restaurants and a couple of high-end clothing shops. There were other stores in the area as well, a small luxury hotel and spa, and numerous B and Bs.
We passed Umbria, the town’s newest restaurant, and I reminded Alice that this was the place Sergio had mentioned last night. Next door to that was the Good Book, the independent bookstore where I occasionally gave crafty bookbinding classes. And next door to the bookstore was Warped, my sister China’s yarn and weaving shop.
I looked through the window and saw China teaching a knitting class to a small group. I caught her eye and waved, and she beckoned me inside.
If it wasn’t obvious, my siblings and I were all named for places my parents visited back in the days when they followed the Grateful Dead. There’s my oldest brother, Jackson, named for Jackson Hole, Wyoming, where the Dead never played but where my parents’ best friends lived and where Jackson was born. Then came Austin, named for Austin, Texas, where the Dead performed with Willie Nelson and Bob Dylan. The story on Savannah was that Mom and Dad attended a raucous show in Atlanta with the Dead and Lynyrd Skynyrd, then drove to the coast and stopped overnight in Savannah, Georgia. Our little Savannah was conceived that night.
My baby sister, London, was named for London, Ontario, Canada, where Mom went into labor while visiting friends after a Toronto Dead show. China’s name came from the China Lake Naval Air Weapons Center, where my parents got arrested for protesting against nuclear weapons. They had some great memories of that place. And I was named after the New York borough, having been conceived in the balcony during intermission of a Grateful Dead show at the now defunct Beacon Theatre.
“Come on, Alice,” I said. “I’ll introduce you to my wacky sister.”
“Is that Annie?”
“No, Annie’s not actually a member of my family, though you’d never know it if you saw her with my mom.”
“Hey, girl,” China cried, running to greet me. “You come for the opening?”
“Yeah.” I gave her a hug, then turned. “This is my friend Alice.”
“Hi, Alice, nice to meet you.” They shook hands.
“Your shop is beautiful,” Alice said, looking around in awe. “So many colors.”
“Thanks. Have a look around.”
“I will.”
I watched Alice whip around, trying to check out all the displays. China’s shop was so intriguing, it was hard to decide what to look at first.
One whole wall was covered in square cubbyholes, each one stuffed with a different color and weight of yarn. There were wire baskets hanging at different levels from the ceiling, some piled high with luxurious yarns, others with bunches of colorful embroidery threads. Several tables showed off knitted and crocheted blankets, adult and baby sweaters, booties, gloves, and more. In one corner was a massive loom with a half-completed multicolored blanket, China’s latest work in progress. It would eventually sell for thousands of dollars.
China was a talented weaver with a fantastic sense of design. She was the one who helped me get my loft pulled together when I first moved in. While I loved all my sisters, she was my favorite, the one I could most relate to. This was probably because she ate red meat and made a point of sinning on a regular basis.
“Have you seen Mom today?” I asked.
“She’s at Annie’s right now, and she’s all wigged out of proportion about London and the boys coming to visit.”
“That’s so unfair,” I said.
“I know,” China said. “Everything stops when London shows up.”
We laughed, but it was true. London was our youngest sister, and though I would never say it to her face, the prettiest. Growing up, she’d always tried to keep up with me and China and our other sister, Savannah. And she usually succeeded. Even now that we were all grown up, she was still doing it. For instance, two months after China gave birth to her beautiful baby girl, Hannah, London had to go and have twins. One boy and one girl.
She’d also married the perfect man. Trevor was a handsome doctor who happened to own a popular winery up in Calistoga. I mean, really, a doctor and a winemaker? She was such a show-off! I loved London and Trevor and the boys, but she could never be my favorite sister. She was too perfect. Not that I would ever tell her that.
My mom insisted she didn’t play favorites, but she got all google-eyed whenever London and her babies came to visit.
“Is Trevor coming, too?” I asked.
“Of course. He’ll be by later this afternoon.”
“And what about Savannah?”
“She’s still a freak,” China said, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue.
“Ah, feel the love,” I said, giving her a one-armed hug. “I’ve missed you so.”
“I’ve missed you, too. You’re my favorite. Don’t tell the others. By the way, you realize we’ve inherited another sister, right?”
“I know,” I said. “And I blame myself. Mom is insane about Annie, don’t you think? I guess it’s because of Abraham.”
China agreed. “I admit I’m a little protective of her myself.”
“Me, too, but don’t tell her I said so. She’s really fun to tease.”
Annie, or Anandalla, as her mother had named her, was Abraham Karastovsky’s daughter. A daughter he’d never met until the week before he died. That’s when Annie showed up, giving Abraham the shock of his life. In a good way, of course. They’d made plans and were looking forward to getting to know each other. Then he was killed and my mother took Annie under her wing.
Since Abraham hadn’t known about Annie, and hadn’t had a chance to change his will, he’d left his entire estate to me, his lifelong pupil and apprentice. I’d made some changes and now Annie had a small trust fund, and she and I were co-owners of Abraham’s palatial home in the hills overlooking Dharma. Those changes had assuaged a small part of the boatload of guilt I’d been dealing with ever since Abraham died.
Annie’s mom died shortly after that, and she moved to Dharma. The entire community had adopted her, especially my mother, who considered Annie the fifth daughter I’d never known she needed.
“We’ve got to go,” I said, hugging China. I told her we’d meet up with her at Annie’s store later. Then I grabbed Alice and we continued walking the Lane.
There was already a crowd gathered in front of Annie’s place. I was delighted when I saw what she’d named her store.
Anandalla!
It was perfect. It sounded so Dharma. Alice followed as I pushed my way into the packed store, stopping every few feet to greet old friends and introduce them to Alice. I spotted Robin on the other side of the spacious shop and we waved at each other. But I couldn’t get there from here, not through this crowd.
I couldn’t see Annie anywhere, and before I could track her down, Mom found me and wrapped me up in a major mama-bear hug.
“Blessed be, sweetie,” she said in greeting, and I was reminded of her recent Wicca traini
ng. “Let’s walk outside. It’s crazy in here.” She led the way, worming around the crowds to the door, then out to the sidewalk.
“Good job, Mom,” I said when we hit the fresh air.
She closed her eyes and raised her face to the sunshine. “It’s so nice out here.”
“It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood,” I sang.
She smiled at me. “Now, sweetie, I want you to have a good time today, but also, Robson needs to talk to you sometime while you’re here.”
Robson, also known as Guru Bob to us kids, was the spiritual leader of the pack.
“Okay, I’ll stop by his place a little later.” I turned and gestured to Alice. “Mom, this is my friend Alice I was telling you about. She’s the one who wants to get a massage today.”
“Blessed be, Alice,” Mom said. “The spa is expecting you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wainwright,” Alice said. “It’s so nice of you to make the arrangements for me.”
“Can you take Alice with you, Mom?”
Mom turned to me. “Sweetie, I had to cancel my usual massage to help Annie today, but I called Savannah. She’s going to the spa, so I thought she could take Alice with her.”
“Oh.” I looked at Alice. “Do you mind going with my sister? Savannah’s much nicer than I am, anyway.”
Mom frowned. “Don’t be silly. You girls are all wonderful and kind.”
“Of course we are,” I said, laughing. “Veritable paragons.”
Mom touched Alice’s arm. “Did you have a specific type of massage in mind, Alice?”
Alice shook her head. “I have no idea what-”
Mom whipped her hand away. “Oh, dear.”
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
She studied Alice’s face for a few seconds, then reached out and placed two fingers in the center of Alice’s forehead.
Alice flinched.
“Don’t be afraid,” I murmured. “She’s touching your third eye. It’ll tell her everything she needs to know.”
“Whoa,” Mom muttered, and moved her fingers away.
“Mom?”
Ignoring me, she pulled out her touch-screen phone and pressed a number. “I’m calling the spa back. Alice needs immediate attention.”
I grinned at Alice. “Mom’ll take care of you, see?”
“She’s wonderful,” Alice whispered, and looked around. “I feel so safe here.”
Mom hung up the phone and gripped Alice’s arm. “You’re to see Tantra Pangalongie. She’s a specialist. A true healer.”
“A specialist in what, Mom?” I asked. I’d heard about Tantra. The woman was fierce.
Mom took a deep breath. “Panchakarma.”
“Wait,” I said. “Are you sure that’s necessary?”
“Absolutely,” she snapped. “She needs it.”
“Why?” Alice asked, glancing back and forth. “What is it?”
The look on Mom’s face was more serious than I’d ever seen, even when we were children and behaving badly. But the look quickly disappeared and she patted Alice’s arm. “Your aura tells me you need an extraspecial treatment today.”
Alice frowned. “Really? You can see my aura?”
“Mom sees all, knows all,” I said lightly. Then I gave my mother a warning glance as Alice fished in her purse for a tissue. “Mom, Alice is a little sensitive.”
“No, no, I’m fine,” Alice insisted. “It’s just a massage, right? It’ll be fun.”
“Absolutely fun,” Mom said, smiling her Sunny Bunny smile, God help us all. When Sunny Bunny appeared, there was no room for arguments. “Here comes Savannah. You girls will have a great time getting pampered.”
I turned to greet Savannah and burst out laughing.
She’d shaved her head.
“I knew you’d love it,” she said wryly.
“God, you’re weird.” I gave her a big hug, then rubbed her smooth head. “Strangely enough, it looks good on you.”
I introduced her to Alice. “You two play nice.”
“We will,” Savannah said, and grabbed Alice’s hand. “Come on, Alice, let’s go get pampered.”
Alice turned back with a tremulous smile. “I’m excited. See you in a while.”
I waved. Once they were halfway down the block, I turned to Mom. “Are you sure the panchakarma is the way to go?”
Mom frowned as she stared off at Alice and Savannah. “Only if she wants to live.”
Chapter 10
“Okay, Mom,” I said, after catching my breath. “You’ve succeeded in scaring the bejeezus out of me, so spill.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Mom linked arms with me and we strolled slowly down the sidewalk. “I know what your feelings are when you hear me rattle on about auras and such.”
“None of us can pass up the opportunity to tease you, Mom,” I said, squeezing her arm. “But you’ve been right about these things more often than not.”
“Then you must trust me. That girl has problems. She has a gray aura. And it’s absolutely opaque.”
Gray aura? I’d never heard of it. “So what does that mean?”
“Well, depending on the shade of gray, it might simply indicate that Alice feels trapped in her life. Or, it could point toward depression.”
“She doesn’t seem depressed,” I mused.
“There’s another possibility.” Mom paused, then sighed. “She could be terminally ill.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, patting my hand. “I’m just the messenger. The good thing is that the gray wasn’t dark enough to call it black.”
“There are black auras?”
“They’re very rare.” Mom’s shoulders shook and she rubbed her arms. “Gives me chills just to think about it. Black aura is often seen in abused children, torture victims, and occasionally, heavy drug addicts.”
I thought about that. “I don’t think she does drugs.”
“No, of course not.”
“But she was raised by nuns in a Catholic boarding school. I hate to think there might’ve been some abuse going on.”
“Oh, dear, I hope not.”
“She seems ridiculously grateful for every little scrap of friendship anyone shows.”
“Maybe she was deprived of such things growing up.”
“Maybe.” Talk about depressing. I’d just met her and already considered her a friend. I didn’t want to find out she was dying.
If I could have laughed off Mom’s aura thing as a big joke, I might have been able to ignore her dire calculations. But as I’d told her, I’d seen her land right on the money too many times to blow it off.
The problem with Mom being right was that Alice was now undergoing a radical Ayurvedic treatment known as panchakarma, or cleansing, which was a really nice way of describing the purging, bloodletting, and high colonics used by practitioners of the regime. They looked for every way possible to draw out poisons and toxins in the system, basically cleaning out every bodily orifice they could find. It was a lengthy procedure normally done for terminally ill patients who’d tried everything else.
Alice wasn’t going to thank me for this.
“Keep good thoughts, sweetie,” Mom had said. “Today is a day for positive thinking. You won’t help your friend if you act depressed over her state.”
I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be grateful either way, but no point in saying that. “Don’t worry. I’ll be perky as a petunia.”
“That’s my good girl. Tell you what. I’ll crochet a healing sachet for Alice to wear.”
“Sounds attractive,” I mumbled.
“My Wicca skills improve every day,” she said. “Your father thinks I make one hell of a witch.”
“Uh, Mom, I’m not sure he meant-”
“Don’t say it.” She laughed and slapped my arm. “Let’s go help our Annie.”
I glanced around and realized we’d walked down the block, turned around, and now were back at Annie’s store. We stared through the wide plate-glass window. “
Is she inside?”
“I don’t see her,” Mom said, “but she’s been swamped all morning. She might be in the back, placing orders. I’d better go help out. Are you coming in or heading to Robson’s?”
“I’ll head over to his house now and be back to help out in a little while.”
“Blessed be,” she said, and gave me another hug before I took off down the street.
Nothing was a very far walk in Dharma. Guru Bob’s lovely home was just up the hill on a piece of land that jutted out to provide magnificent views in three directions. I’d always considered it the catbird seat as far as property in Dharma went.
I approached his two-story Edwardian mansion with some trepidation. It’s not that I didn’t like him; I did, very much. But he was a man of higher consciousness, and even if you didn’t drink the commune Kool-Aid, there was something solemn about being in his presence that made you want to talk in quiet tones and behave respectfully. It was a little disconcerting.
I knocked on the front door and waited less than ten seconds before he opened the door himself.
“Brooklyn,” he said jovially. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, Robson.” I’d never dared to call him Guru Bob to his face, but he probably knew we’d nicknamed him that years ago. He seemed to know everything that went on when it came to his town and his people.
He ushered me into his well-appointed, art-filled home and led the way to a small elegant sitting room. A tea service was set up on the coffee table. Or did that make it a tea table?
A door off the tea room led to Guru Bob’s small library. I’d helped him acquire a number of rare books over the years and knew how wonderful and extensive his collection was. I could hear papers being shuffled and footsteps moving around the room. Someone was working in there.
“Please sit, gracious,” Guru Bob said, indicating the beautifully restored Regency-style sofa. He called most people gracious on the supposition that we were all filled with varying amounts of grace. I’d heard him say that when he called you gracious, he could watch you become more present to the moment.
He sat in a comfortable side chair and began to pour the tea. “How was your trip to Edinburgh?”
The Lies That Bind Page 11
