Twist of Fate

by Sheri L. Brown

  “No problem, sorry about your aunt. I have a feeling you two were very close.”

  Claire wondered now if everyone who had a feeling about something would consider themselves psychic. She thought maybe everyone had intuition and feelings about things.

  “Thank you, we were close.”

  “Hey, Claire,” Abigail said, “my boyfriend is playing with his band at one of the local pubs if you want to hang out.”

  Claire couldn’t think past the day or the moment. The familiar hollow, empty pain filled her gut as she thought about Zia’s funeral and her immediate sadness. Then she thought about what she was going to do with her life. She still had to tell her parents she wasn’t going to leave the city. She needed to get back to do some research about school, hang out with Candy and take a yoga class again from Declan, then maybe go for coffee or tea. And she still needed to connect with Ryan. Claire was sure Rachel needed to get back to the city soon, so going to see a band probably wasn’t going to fit in. But Claire was intrigued. She never really went out to see local bands play. And she never spent any time with musicians.

  “When?” Claire asked.

  “Tonight. On Main Street, at AJ’s. Maybe get there around nine?”

  “Yeah, Abigail, thanks for the invite. Maybe that’s exactly what I need. I… I just don’t know how I’ll feel later on.”

  Abigail smiled, “I totally get it. If you can make it, I’ll see you then.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Thinking of you today at your Zia’s funeral—xoxo.

  Claire read Ryan’s text on the way to the church. She took a deep breath and put her phone in her lap. Everything seemed surreal—the light filtering through the leaves, the chattering of her sisters in the car and her parents’ conversation about the cross. She put in her ear buds and turned on some music to escape for the few minutes it would take to arrive at their destination.

  It wasn’t a complete surprise Claire was in a funk. She texted Ryan back and thanked him. She asked him how he was doing and told him she missed him, but the longing for him and the life she had dreamt up for them in her head had begun to fade. She wasn’t sure what it meant to love someone. She knew she loved her family and she understood what that felt like, but when it came to falling in love with a boy or a young man, she couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Claire wondered if it was love or the idea of being in love that seemed appealing to her. She wondered if she was too young to fall in love and if the rush of romantic feelings had lulled her into an altered state. She surprised herself at how quickly Ryan had slipped into obscurity in her mind. Her heart would always be open, but she didn’t know what place he would fill. None of her mental ramblings mattered, anyhow, she was on her way to say goodbye to her beloved Zia one last time.

  There was a new shroud of mystery surrounding her aunt—the key, the box she referred to that was most definitely attached to the key, the ridiculously valuable cross that Zia had no knowledge of, and the numerology of the gemstones the setting held. Claire had some research to do and she had to figure out how the whole clairvoyant thing worked when the Internet could no longer give her answers to her more fundamental questions.

  Things at home seemed to settle down quickly after the frenetic week searching for Skylar. Felicia was on her best behavior when she was around the family, but Claire decided to keep her eyes open. She didn’t want Skylar to get in over her head again anytime soon. And outside of her spiritual and psychic fish that needed frying regarding Zia, Claire had to tell her parents she was going to stay in the city and enroll at NYU. And she needed to find the box. She couldn’t leave until she did.

  Sarah did everything she could to arrange the funeral and subsequent life celebration to Zia’s specifications. Not surprisingly, Zia had arranged most of the details herself with the funeral home, the priest and the Italian-American Club. Claire was happy her mother had really paid attention to the myriad requests, down to Zia’s favorite Bible verse from Ecclesiastes… “To everything there is a season. A time for every matter under Heaven: a time to be born and a time to die….”

  Claire could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and did her best to not go over the deep end emotionally when the priest recited the verse. If Zia had passed when Claire was a staunch Catholic, she thought, her mourning would have been straightforward, fueled by faith and adhering to the dogmatic principles about death. But so much had transpired in the last few weeks regarding her belief system, confounded by hearing Zia from the other side; she didn’t know what to believe. She scanned her mind for some answers and settled on a couple of thoughts that seemed to calm her down—Zia was now in spirit form and she was definitely with Claire. She found solace in the rituals Zia was so passionate about and it was enough to sustain her through the service and at the cemetery. She found some relief in hearing her voice and that gave Claire great comfort.

  Between church friends and Italian friends at the local club, there must have been over two hundred people in attendance at the service and reception. Wine flowed freely and was mixed with water, as per Zia’s request, for the children. The energy at the club was amazing. Italians were, from Claire’s point of view, passionate and warm, and had a distinct way of celebrating life. She was surrounded by Zia’s extended family and she couldn’t help but think about going to Italy instead of college. The feeling overwhelmed her. She went to the bar and ordered a glass of red wine without water.

  “Mia cara!”

  Claire put her wine on the bar and turned around, wondering who would be calling her what Zia had affectionately dubbed her as a child.

  “Wha?” Claire said in response.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.”

  “How did you know to call me that?” Claire asked.

  “I’m psychic.”

  Claire looked at the woman as though she had three heads. Things were beginning to get surreal again.

  “I’m teasing, honey,” the woman said, “Regina has showed me many pictures of you over the last few years and so I knew you were, Claire or cara… the apple of her eye….”

  The little lady took the wide-brimmed, black hat off her head and set it on the bar. She ordered a chardonnay with an ice cube and turned toward Claire. She was unusually petite and Claire towered over her. She was dressed in black and white and wore a huge corsage on her collar. Her black stretchy pants were tucked into black leather knee-high boots with two-inch heels, making her still shy of five feet tall. She was pretty, despite looking really old and she could have been dressed for either a funeral or a Sunday ride on a Harley.

  “Well, first things first, honey. I want you to know how sorry I am for your loss. I felt like Regina was the sister I never had.”

  “Well, thank you, I just don’t know why she never mentioned you.”

  “Well, I’m Maria Baldovini, Claire, it’s nice to meet you after all this time. Call me Baldi….”

  “Ohhh,” Claire smiled, “you’re Baldi. You’re the one who Zia drank wine and played bocce with during the summer.”

  “That’s me. And boy was she a hoot.”

  Claire latched onto Baldi and gave her a huge hug. It felt nice to be close to someone who was close to her aunt.

  “It’s so funny, Baldi, Zia was a lot of things, but I’d never describe her as a hoot.”

  “I have a way of getting people to loosen up, that’s all.”

  The women toasted Zia and ordered another round. Zia had arranged for the event to be open bar and prepaid for it years ago. She told the owners of the club not to be stingy with their alcohol. Skylar and Felicia came up to the bar just as Claire’s phone chimed. She quickly introduced them to Baldi and excused herself to check her phone.

  Hey, girlfriend, thinking about you today. Can’t wait to see you next week! C.

  Claire had so much to tell Candy she didn’t know where to start. She sent several texts and told her about the key, the mystery box and her hearing Zia’s voice. Claire didn’t want to make a
big deal out of it, but it was a big deal. She was hearing voices from her dead aunt telling her what to do from the other side. Yes, Claire thought, her words gave her comfort, but at the same time, it was crazy to hear voices in her head. She wondered why she wasn’t slated to have a normal life. She looked around the open room and wondered how many people there felt normal. She smiled as he noticed the round tables covered in gold lamé and plastic, just as Zia asked. People were drinking and laughing, singing Italian songs with the DJ. Crowds of people came and went as they gathered out back to play bocce ball.

  “Claire? Are you with us?” Sarah asked.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m here,” Claire said smiling.

  Sarah reached out to give Claire a hug. Within seconds, the hug grew to include Earl, Safire, Sadie and Skylar. Rachel joined in, too. Life was good, Claire thought, she just had to figure out the best way to tie up some mysterious loose ends and get on with her life. It was time to tell her parents the news and get back to the city with Rachel.

  Everyone went their separate ways when the Sinclairs arrived home sometime after dark. Skylar went to Felicia’s house. The girls went to their bedroom and Sarah and Earl grabbed a bottle of wine and went to their parent cave. Rachel disappeared upstairs to get ready for bed. Claire sat in the kitchen alone and thought about going to AJ’s to see the band play.

  “Oh, honey,” Rachel walked in the kitchen, “everyone left you here all alone.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess I needed some time to just chill out. I’m nervous about telling Mom and Dad that I want to go to NYU. And there’s a couple of other things I have to deal with, too,” Claire said, sighing.

  “Well, I already prepped your mother about college, so I think that conversation will be innocuous.”

  “Really? Thank you, Rachel, I just feel like….”

  “Like if you change your mind you’ve done something wrong?”

  “Well, yes, my parents rely on me to be reliable… predictable. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

  “They’ll get over it, honey. You’re a good kid… actually, you’re a young woman. You need to start making decisions for yourself.”

  Rachel sat down. It would have been impossible for Claire not to notice her ‘sleep clothes’, as she called them. Her entire ensemble was green, like deep-emerald green—a long silk nightgown was covered with a thick cashmere floor-length robe. Rachel also wore a matching satin sleeping mask on her head and matching one-inch, green sleep shoes adorned with green feathers. The outfit was absolutely unreal, Claire thought, but entirely fitting. She adored her grandmother more and more every day.

  “Rachel, thank you for making that conversation easier for me, but I can’t go to the city with you until I find the box. Besides, we have to figure out where to put the cross and I really have to go through Zia’s things with Mom.”

  Rachel fidgeted with her cigarette before fitting it into its holder, making her ensemble feel like Claire had just gone back to 1940.

  “I planned on staying up here until Monday, so let’s plan on going back together then. Hopefully your aunt will give you an idea about the box in the next day or two.”

  Claire smiled. It seemed as though things fell into place a little easier when she didn’t worry so much or try so hard to make things happen a certain way. She felt her shoulders relax.

  “Abigail invited me out to see her boyfriend’s band tonight. I’m thinking I might actually go out. Is that terrible?”

  “Honey, you’re young… you’ve been so tough the last few days, really pushing yourself with so much on your plate. Go out and have a good time, Zia will understand completely. In fact, that’s exactly what she’d want you to do.”

  “All right then, I just have to fix myself up a bit and I’m off. I can walk… so, can you let Mom and Dad know I’ll be home by curfew?” Claire leaned over and kissed Rachel’s cheek, “I love you, Rachel.”

  “I love you, too, Clairebear, have fun.”

  Claire ran up the stairs to freshen up and headed out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The black funeral dress was a little much for a local bar, but with her old denim jacket and a pair of worn-out motorcycle boots, Claire felt like she was dressed down enough to make it all work. She got to AJ’s just after nine and ran into Abigail at the door. The place was packed. Abigail grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her through the crowd toward the stage.

  The guys were doing a sound check, according to Abigail, and they’d be on in a few minutes.

  “This gives us time to hang out and party.”

  Claire wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded like Abigail must have had a secret stash of alcohol somewhere. She had to know Claire wasn’t old enough to drink. Claire wasn’t a hug party girl in high school. She was too busy working hard to slack off. Her four year high school career was spent staying focused on getting into college. She suddenly felt bad as though she had failed herself. She worked with blinders on, saying no to friends and parties and sleepovers, and now she wouldn’t attend college in the fall. She wondered if life was made up of different twists of fate. You have your mind set in a direction, she thought, and something unforeseen, or something way more omnipotent and magical, knows that you need something else.

  For some reason, this concept made Claire very happy, as though she had just solved the Riddle of the Universe or the Meaning of Life. She decided the best thing she could do was to celebrate with her interesting and quirky new friend.

  Abigail handed Claire a sandwich bag, “Here, eat a couple of these.”

  “What? What are they?”

  “Shrooms… it’ll be fun, trust me, a couple of them will be okay. You’ll just laugh a lot.”

  Claire thought one might be enough. She pulled one out of the bag and put it toward her mouth.

  “Here, eat it with this candy bar. It’ll go down easier.”

  Claire watched as Abigail ate two mushrooms sandwiched in between two pieces of the chocolate. She placed her one mushroom in between the chocolate as Abigail had done and took a bite. It was beyond disgusting. The chocolate did little to alleviate the taste and absolutely nothing to lessen the chewy texture of the dried up fungus she decided to ingest.

  When Claire finally had swallowed it she asked, “How long till I feel something?”

  “I don’t know, maybe an hour…”

  “Abigail, how do you have such an important job and all that knowledge, but then you still go out and party?”

  Abigail looked at Claire with an intense and inquisitive look as though Claire said something awful, or stupid or offensive.

  “Those are two separate questions, Claire.”

  “Oh, I guess you’re right,” Claire said, deciding she really did ask two things at once. She laughed, not because the mushroom was kicking in, but because she was looking forward to the night. She had a feeling.

  “I studied at the New York Gemological Institute. I’ve always had a thing for geology, so I got a two-year degree from our local college before going to New York. I ended up working with a couple of famous jewelry stores, starting doing appraisals and my business grew enough that I could live up here and set up consultations. So, I’ll drive or fly anywhere if someone needs me.”

  “That’s amazing, so you own your own business and do whatever you want whenever you want.”

  “Yeah,” Abigail chuckled, “it took a long time and a lot of hard work to get here, but I feel very blessed. I still work hard, just not as hard. And I can charge more money because I know what I’m talking about.”

  “Wow,” Claire was stunned, “and you really like what you do?”

  “I love what I do.”

  “And what about the partying?” Claire asked.

  “I’m in love with a rock-n-roll guy. He’s amazingly talented and once in a while, if he has a gig in town, I go out and support him and have a little fun.”

  Claire laughed, “When I first met you I couldn’t tell if you were a rock an
d mineral geek or a hipster having a wild time….”

  “Well, now you know I’m both and an occasional groupie, too” Abigail got up and smiled at Claire, “do you want to come out back while I smoke?”

  “Sure,” Claire smiled.

  She could hear the music playing through the walls of the building. It was loud and sounded amazing—the sound of the bass and drums pounding through the wall was invigorating. Old school rock-n-roll, the kind her father had raised her on, made her heart happy. She could recognize some covers and in between, Abigail reminded her that the unfamiliar tunes were original compositions. Halfway through her cigarette, Abigail announced she was feeling happy. The stars in the sky made her happy, her cigarette made her happy, her teeth made her happy, her new friend made her happy….

  Claire was happy, too. Abigail’s litany of all things invoking happiness went on and on and Claire hung on every word. She liked her new friend. Claire and Abigail talked through the entire first set. They talked about Zia’s cross, about Claire’s psychic abilities, Ryan, her friend Candy and all of her life’s imminent changes.

  Abigail listened intently and finally said, “You are one cool chick, Claire Sinclair, I think we should be friends.”

  “I think so too, Abigail.”

  Claire and Abigail ate another mushroom sometime after the second set. They shared a couple of beers out back, hung out next to the stage and screamed at the top of their lungs over a great guitar riff or drum solo. Claire didn’t know where she’d end up in her life, but she would always love her home town. She told Abigail this repeatedly throughout the night and each time, Abigail would kiss Claire on the lips and shout ‘Woo! Hoo! I love you, girl!’

  Smitty, Abigail’s boyfriend, staunchly refused to admit to having any other name despite Claire nagging him in her heightened state. He was simply Smitty and made sure Claire knew in a firm, but nonchalant way. Claire thought he was really cute and muscular and he had a sexy singing voice. And he was really cool. He had a lot of tattoos on his shirtless upper body and his hair came down almost to his shoulders, in a messy non-hippie sort of way. Claire wondered if she could ever date a guy like Smitty. He seemed like a rebel and it frightened her and exhilarated her at the same time.