“Well, Shawna’s pregnant. She’s due in about seven months. We thought it was a good idea to go ahead and make it legal and maybe have a fancy church affair sometime after the baby is born. You know, maybe on our fifth wedding anniversary, or our tenth.”
Tori no longer tried to control the silent tears running down her face, but she did wipe at them angrily. As she stared out the window, she thought how ironic it was that the reason she was divorced was the very reason Jim was now remarrying. An uncharacteristic feeling of hatred washed over her, and she knew it was jealousy, with a liberal dose of pain at the knowledge she would never be picking out infant clothing and furniture with Jim, or any other man.
“Well, Jim, congratulations, again. I wish you and your new bride the best of luck. I have to go now. I have something boiling over on the stove. Goodbye.”
“Tori! Wait! I didn’t mean to upset you. I only thought it fair to tell you before…”
She waited a minute to be sure the connection was broken, then lifted the telephone and placed it on the desk. She didn’t think Jim would call back, but she didn’t want to talk to him, or anyone else, at the moment.
She laid her head on her crossed arms resting on the edge of the desk. Hot, bitter tears fell onto her lap. She raised her head, picking up a reference book, and savagely threw it across the small room.
And though he was unseen, and the flying object could not yet harm his vaporous form, Avery jerked his body to the side, instinctively dodging the thick book.
* * *
Tori lifted her sleep-drowsy eyes to stare at the wall as she again heard someone knocking at her front door. She glanced at the clock above her computer and realized she’d been out of it again. After Jim’s call, she’d evidently cried herself to sleep while leaning over the keyboard. Her headache had not abated. In fact, it seemed to have increased in intensity. Cursing beneath her breath, she stood stiffly to her feet, proving her body complained at the idea of her sleeping at her desk. She shuffled to the door and opened it just few inches until she saw who was standing there.
Sharon’s face was pale and her eyes were large in her pretty face.
“Tori? What’s wrong? I’ve been calling you for over two hours and the line was busy. I’ve been worried to death. Honey, what’s going on?”
Behind her mother’s back, Tori rubbed her eyes, which felt inflamed and gritty. She took a deep, calming breath as she turned to put her arms around Sharon. She could feel her mother’s body held rigid, and the fast, short breaths she was taking.
“Mom, I’m all right. I’m sorry. It seems I have to keep reassuring you, don’t I? I suppose I worry you a lot, but I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. I simply took the phone off the hook so I could get some writing done.”
Sharon stared into Tori’s eyes and disbelief was clearly written in her face.
“Victoria, you’ve never done that before. And you look as if you’ve been crying. Honey, please tell me the truth.”
Tori fell onto the sofa cushions, leaning her throbbing head against the upholstered arm. Sharon came to sit beside her daughter, taking Tori’s cold hand into her own.
“Mom, I’ve just got this terrible headache I can’t seem to shake. I was trying to get some work done and must’ve fallen asleep at my desk.”
“Sweetheart, there’s more to this story.”
“Okay, you’re right. I got a phone call-from Jim”
Sharon’s face reddened into a mother’s protective shade of concern.
“Oh, really? And what did dear ol’ Jim want to discuss with you?”
Tori rubbed her tired face and began to tremble. Sharon’s heart squeezed with love for her child.
“Jim just called, Mom, to tell me that he’s getting married.”
Sharon’s gasp of surprise seemed to lend credence to Tori’s feeling of betrayal, validating her need to mourn.
“Not only did he tell me he’s getting married, but Shawna, his fiancée, is pregnant.”
Tori felt herself being pulled into her mother’s warm embrace. It was the only thing needed for her to fully give into the hurt that seemed to be tearing her heart apart. She laid her head on her mother’s shoulder, her face buried into her neck as when she was a child, and sobbed. Her slender shoulders shook with the passion of her pain.
Spent at last, Tori was comforted by her mother stroking her hair, rubbing her back, murmuring loving words of consolation against her child’s tear-streaked cheeks. Hiccupping, Tori drew away from Sharon to reach for the box of tissues next to the sofa. She loudly blew her red nose, eliciting a grin from her mother. Tori saw her expression and began to giggle. No matter that it was the nearly manic sound sometimes accompanying grief; it still felt good to stop crying.
Sharon joined in the laughter, then stood and pulled Tori to her feet.
“Now, show me that ring you bought—which I’m still in shock about. This has got to be some ring.”
Even though she didn’t understand it, wariness seeped into Tori’s mind at the thought of showing the gold and jade ring to her mother. She didn’t realize that a look of secretiveness stole over her puffy face. She was as easy to read as one of her own books.
“Oh, I took it back to the boutique. It was much too expensive, even though it was so not worth it, and I’d never go anywhere to wear it. It was one of those spur-of-the-moment purchases we’ve all made, then regretted. You know, ‘buyer’s remorse’. My checking account looks much healthier since I returned it.”
She sensed that Sharon didn’t believe her and held her breath until her mother’s next words proved she wasn’t going to push the issue.
“Well, okay, Honey. How about me making us some coffee? That may actually help your headache. Have you taken any aspirin yet? I have some extra-strength ones in my purse. Here, take a couple of these, Tori.”
Tori swallowed the pills with her coffee as she listened to Sharon talk about Lydia’s details of her night spent with the editor. Sharon laughed out loud at some of the things her best friend had told her, and it felt good to Tori to share in her mother’s anecdotes.
After her mother was reassured enough to leave, Tori allowed herself to dwell on the morose feelings she was experiencing. She was at long last permitting herself the luxury of truly mourning the death of a love that she had believed would be forever. Even though it had been five years coming, she was only now grieving.
Along with the dissolution of the marriage, she mourned the loss of a dream never realized. With this she admitted unmitigated anger that it was Shawna, and not she, who would be having Jim’s child. Anger at her barrenness filled her heart and hot, scalding tears once again flowed down her face. Tori felt betrayed by her ex-husband going on with his life, fathering a child, being happy. She railed against the injustices of life as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, staring at the far wall which still held a portrait taken of her and Jim in happier times.
Tori walked over and took the photograph from the wall. With a calmness that bordered on catatonia, she shuffled into the kitchen and dropped the frame into the garbage. The sound of breaking glass snapped her to attention and she sank to the floor, her arms splayed outward in supplication, her harsh sobs filling the solemn house.
When the sobbing became merely loud sniffles, Tori lifted herself from the floor and shuffled into the bathroom. Opening the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet, she shook two of the sleeping pills into her trembling hand. She stared at the pale, tired face that stared back at her, gulped the pills, then went to the bedroom. She fell across her bed, the crying no longer abrasive, more like silent admissions of failure. She lay on her back, the tears soaking her hair as they fell unabated till the moment she fell asleep.
* * *
Tears coursing down his own face, Avery stretched out his arms as if to hold Tori, to comfort the love of his life. Cursed was this flimsy, nonexistent form he was imprisoned in, unable to hold her, kiss her, show her how truly loved she was. He lifted his
head, imploring any God that may take pity on his plight, to give him substance so that he might touch this angel who needed him as much as he needed her. As if in answer to his plea, he could feel a change beginning to take place.
Chapter Seven
Sharon passed Lydia a cup of tea, the aromatic blend wafting through the room to lend a certain coziness to the scene. Sharon’s expressive face, much like her own daughter’s, belied the fact that something troubled her. The perpetual smile had slipped just a notch, and her pretty lips were a pencil-line in her lovely face.
“Okay, Luv, tell me what’s wrong.”
Sharon smiled ruefully and tilted her head to one side as she shrugged her shoulders. Surprisingly, a solitary tear gently fell from her blue eyes.
“Lydia, I’m not exactly sure what’s wrong. Oh, I have an idea. I do know one thing that has happened, but not the whole story…”
With assumed patience, Lydia placed her cup and saucer on the polished mahogany coffee table.
“I’ve an idea, Sharon. Instead of you talking in circles and confusing me more, why don’t you just lay your cards out for me? How can I play the game if I can’t see your hand?”
Sharon chuckled, “Ah, dear Lydia. You always do want me to cut to the chase, don’t you, dear?”
“Well, it would make it much easier to help if I knew the rules of the game.”
“I’m concerned about Tori, but I don’t know that you can help, Lydia. I don’t know if anyone can.”
“Yes, well, you’re still being quite vague, Sharon. Do be a dear and tell me what is going on.”
“Lydia, have you noticed how haggard Tori is looking lately? She looks like she never sleeps. I know she’s always been somewhat of a recluse, but it seems as if she’s withdrawing more and more lately, even from me. Several times her telephone is off the hook, or she simply doesn’t answer it. When I can’t stand it anymore, I go to her house to find her a wreck, crying or complaining with a terrible headache. Then she tells me that Jim called her to tell her he’s getting married, and the woman is pregnant. I’m very worried what this may do to Tori.”
“Sweetheart, Tori is a grown woman. The biggest problem I see with adult children is you can’t make them listen to you, as if you could when they were younger. Yes, I’ve noticed the changes in Tori, but she’ll be okay. She’s much tougher and more resilient than you give her credit for, my dear. Tori may have had the wind knocked out of her, but she’ll catch her breath, I just know it.”
“I sure hope you’re right. It hurts me to see her like this, especially when it seems there’s nothing I can do to help her.”
“Sharon, I just had a splendid idea! What about us finding her a date?”
“She would probably kill us both. You know she doesn’t date. She hasn’t dated since the divorce.”
Lydia grinned, “Then it’s way past time she went out with a nice man, isn’t it? I know just the guy, too. He’s a writer, so they automatically have something in common. I admit, he writes science-fiction, but a writer nevertheless, right?”
“Oh, I don’t know about this, Lydia. Tori is so funny about things like that. I’m sure she will get mad at us if we set her up with this guy.”
“Well, alright, but it’s a shame. He’s close to her age, exquisitely handsome, and has just loads of money.”
Sharon’s face shined. “Oh, he’s wealthy, you say? Tell me, wherever did you meet him?”
Lydia’s deep-throated chuckle made Sharon grin.
“He happens to be one of my other clients. I just had the contract drawn up yesterday. His name is Roger Hart. He’s new to the area and knows no one. He just fell in love with the town while driving through last year and decided to move here permanently. No wife, no kids—perfect, in other words.”
“He sounds interesting, Lydia. Maybe it is time Tori made a new friend.”
Lydia smiled conspiratorially and winked at Sharon.
“Shall we have them both to my house for dinner, say, Friday night?”
“Yes, let’s!”
Sharon grabbed a notebook and started the menu for dinner at Lydia’s house. Even though she just knew Tori wouldn’t like their arranging this date, it was high time someone stepped in to help her. The two women had their heads close together as, deep into the night, they mapped out the details.
* * *
The first thing Tori noticed when she opened her eyes was that it was incredibly dark in the room, and then the pounding headache that was still in residence. Moaning, she eased herself from under the blankets and fumbled for the light switch. As she walked through the house, turning on a light in each room, she remembered the reason for sedating herself into a medicinal hangover. Though still saddened at Jim’s forthcoming marriage and parenthood, she no longer felt like crying.
She put together a pot of coffee and ambled into the computer room vowing to try to get some work done. The first thing she noticed was that the screen-saver wasn’t the same one she had chosen. This one was words, red Old English lettering raced across a white background. The backs of her arms broke out in goose bumps. Not taking time to try to read the complex calligraphy, Tori tapped the space bar, revealing what hid beneath there. Her eyes widened as she saw text there on the monitor, as if awaiting her approval.
Angry rain had assaulted the villa the entire day. Near dusk, the torrential downpour had abated into a magnificent rainbow. Mankala was walking with care around deep puddles, his master allowing the steed to go where he wished. Avery was too absorbed in his own thoughts, his own heart’s desires, to be concerned which direction they traveled. He was lost in memory of the one who consumed his passion, his dreams. As he saw her in his mind, his breath caught at his chest in wonder. It was as if he could taste her lips, feel her body leaning into his, smell her essence, hear her voice whispered through the trees. Seabirds swooped and cried out, their mournful song matched that of his heart.
As Avery and Mankala ascended the crest of the largest hill on the property, he followed the arc of the multicolored hues as far as he eyes could see. It was here, near the end, that awaited his own share of gold, as promised in legends. There sat his lady, his love, atop an outcropping of craggy rocks, staring into the deepening twilight. At the sound of horse hooves, she expectantly turned to look for him. As she stood, waiting, his eyes filled at the sight of her beauty.
The seamstress had chosen well the color of the dress, green as a dew-kissed meadow. Stitched all around with small tucks and pleats to accentuate her breasts, it hugged her slender shoulders, clung to her waist, then fell to her feet in gentle swaths. The collar rose to meet the petal pink softness of her face, the color setting off her auburn hair like lace against copper. She was as fresh and sweet as the dawn.
As his master dismounted, Mankala dropped his head as if in greeting her. Avery heard the horse’s whinny at his own pleasure of her presence.
If he had traveled with the tempo of his heart, Avery would have been running toward this exquisite creature, but he fought to restrain himself, for fear of frightening her away, as he always seemed to do. He didn’t understand. He felt that she loved him as deeply, that her passion surged through her as strongly as his own, yet she never failed to run from him. Avery slowed his step even more as he neared her.
She stood there, the rain-fresh breeze playing with the folds of her dress, at times wrapping it more closely to her lovely form. It was as if Mother Nature herself were teasingly tempting him. She nervously flicked her tongue, wetting her lips, eliciting a moan he held beneath his breath. Her emerald eyes were large in her lovely face that was colored so sweetly with the height of a sweet blush. Her rapid, shallow breath caused her bosom to rise and fall most deliciously and Avery fought to keep his hands from her.
He smiled as he stood mere inches from her. Her head tilted back as she looked into his face, staring at his mouth, desire narrowing the pupils of her eyes. Avery felt the heat radiating from her, and his desire rose to meet it. Without a word, he
leaned down, his lips cautiously touching hers. When she didn’t pull away, he increased the pressure of his mouth, and was dizzily thrilled when he felt her lips part beneath his own. Tentatively, he touched her soft lips with his probing tongue, and felt the electrical reaction course through her body. Immediately, she jerked her head away, and turned to run down the hill.
Avery’s shoulders sagged and his eyes filled with sorrow as he watched her run. Knowing it was of no avail, he held out his hand, begging her to come back to him.
“Come back, my darling! I love you! Please come back to me, Victoria.”
Tori heard her own harsh breathing echo back to her from the walls of her computer room. She touched her forehead then quickly dropped her hand when she felt the cold sheen of sweat covering her face. Her arms crossed over her stomach as she felt a spasm seize through her middle. Instinctively doubling over, she fell into the familiar chair to read again the words she had not written. Over and over she retraced the text, always feeling apprehension as she neared the end, as if she were reading it again for the first time. No matter how many times she read it, her body wouldn’t relax, refused to release her from this icy cold grip of foreboding. Folding her trembling hands in her lap, Tori struggled to make sense of this phenomenon. Thoughts raced through her mind, each one screaming to be heard above the others, colliding into each other, only to skitter away angrily when she refused to acknowledge it.
“What is this? What’s going on here? I know I didn’t write this. It’s not even my style. O God, have I lost my mind? What the hell is the matter with me?”
Tears of frustration froze on her cheeks as she heard the deep sigh of sadness behind her. Her whole body felt alive with crawling insects as she swiveled around in her chair. As before, she saw no one, nothing, but she did feel heat emanating from a spot just behind her.
She grabbed her purse, then ran at breakneck speed to her car. She had time to think just before she screeched from the house. I thought ghosts felt cold.
Through the Shadows Page 6
