Death Omen

by Amber Foxx

  To Jamie’s horror, she waded into the river. Was she planning to drown herself? He’d tried to do that once. Going down had been terrifying. She was in up to the hem of her dress. Clothes would drag her down, and the bottom was slick. Jamie jammed the loop of Gasser’s leash over a branch and scrambled down the narrow path through the shrubs and reeds, shouting her name.

  She turned abruptly and slipped, falling backwards with a shriek. “Oh no, my hair.”

  You didn’t care about your hair if you were suicidal. She hadn’t been trying to drown. “Sorry.” He lost a sandal to the muck as he splashed in to help her. Once she was on her feet, Posey still clung as if incapable of any effort on her own, and Jamie had to practically lift her. When she was out of the water, he pulled his sandal free and slid his muddy sock-foot into it. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Scared me seeing you head into the river.”

  She tilted her head. “I don’t think it’s very deep.”

  “You could still drown.”

  “I was doing a ceremony.” She turned to watch her floating papers dissolving into the water. “I wonder if I cut it short by falling down.”

  “Sorry. Hope I didn’t ruin it. Looks like you were letting go of something?”

  She sighed. “Rex. I had such high hopes. Those were poems for him. And ... one was for Sierra.” Posey wrung out the skirt of her dress, revealing well-toned thighs. “I don’t know what I’ll do without her. I feel lost. I was going to help her start the retreat center. I’ll put myself out there again for love, of course. But for healing, I just don’t know.”

  Her legs reminded Jamie how healthy she was. She needed to let go of her sick role even more than her infatuation with Rex. “You had this really dramatic healing. You think you need more? Your pain was gone. You could even go back to work.”

  She extracted a pair of pink pumps from the bushes. “My work wasn’t important. Not like what I could have done for Sierra.”

  “Not important? Thought you were a hairdresser.”

  She nodded.

  Removing his straw fedora, Jamie ran his fingers through his braids and tangles. No hope of asking Mae to undo them now. It was silly of him to need someone to do it for him, but he’d exerted all the self-sufficiency he could handle for a while, and Posey needed to take care of someone.

  He took a deep breath. She smelled like mud and river water, fresher and better than her bad perfume. “Have you got a comb on you? And a lot of patience? I could use your help.”

  *****

  Mae met Kate and Bernadette in their room at the spa and told them about her psychic journey. She wanted Bernadette to skip Sierra in her article and allow her a chance to start over. Kate disagreed, saying that even if Sierra returned people’s money, she couldn’t restore their health, and though Yeshi might be a competent practitioner, he’d shown poor judgment by including Sierra in his retreat. They argued until Bernadette said, “I’m going to compromise, all right? I’ll mention something about Sierra having limited skills and say that Yeshi’s work is better without her. That should be enough. But I won’t humiliate the people who believed her.”

  Mae thanked her. They talked a little longer, then Mae left the Red Pelican by the front gate onto Main Street. Walking with no goal other than to settle her thoughts, she crossed the open lot at the curve where Main and Broadway joined Date Street. The Sierra situation was as wrapped up as it was going to get, but instead of being relieved, Mae felt uneasy. Why? A problem she’d been struggling with was solved. But she also had problems she’d left sitting on the fence, problems closer to home.

  It was time to face them. She owed it to the twins and to Jamie as well as to herself.

  She paused in the mini-park in the median and sat on a bench under a row of pines. Without consciously deciding to do it, she called Hubert. He answered on the first ring. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah. We’re fine. The girls are with Niall and Daddy.”

  “They giving you any trouble?”

  “They picked up a few bad habits with Jamie, but I had a good talk with ’em. They’ll settle down.”

  “Bad habits? They’d better not be f-bombing every other word.”

  “No. Brook’s trying to cure him of that. It’s more like he didn’t really make them obey him. It won’t take long to clear up, though. It was only three days of getting away with stuff.”

  Silence. Then Hubert said, “I’m actually grateful they took off with him. Something hit both me and Jen in Maine. This may sound crazy, but ... does Jamie kind of send something when he hugs you?”

  “He does it by accident sometimes. He doesn’t have real good control as a healer. We went to a workshop on energy healing and he couldn’t just put his hands on his practice clients like the rest of us, he had to wrap his arms around ’em and cry with ’em.”

  “Well, Jen and I both felt whatever he does. Something shifted. It was like the beginning of knowing we’d made a mistake, even before we realized the girls had run away. In the back of her mind, the back of my mind, we were thinking it and didn’t dare say it until we knew what they’d done. Jen saw things pretty clear after that. It took me longer to admit it, but then I’m stubborn.” A soft laugh. “I guess you know that.”

  An unexpected tenderness rose in Mae. “I do.”

  What a strange healing. No one would seek a healer to break up a marriage that was only a few months old. Mae’s mind moved to Sierra and the failure of her parents’ faith. Healing through disruption could be powerful, but the transition hurt.

  Mae said, “It’s got to be hard for you, living by yourself.”

  “It is. But it gives me time to think. I’ve never had much of that. Neither has Jen. She likes it up there. Plenty of work for her with all the health clubs in the city. Health Quest needs a new fitness director here, of course.”

  Did he mean Mae? “I don’t have my degree yet. I’m not qualified.”

  “I didn’t mean you. Just thinking about Jen leaving them in a bind. It’s hard to get good people to stay around here. And if I left, Buddy would have to find a new mechanic, probably some kid straight out of the tech. Easier than getting a fitness director, though.”

  “You’re thinking of leaving? I thought Tylerton was like your blood, your roots. Your folks’ farm is so important to you.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got two smart little girls who may need more out of life than Tylerton can offer.”

  Mae swallowed an I-told-you-so. Back when they were married and fighting, she had wanted them to move away, for the twins’ sake as much as her own. Now, over a year too late, Hubert had come around to at least considering the possibility. Why couldn’t he have done it while they still stood a chance? It hadn’t been him she’d left, not really. It had been Tylerton, North Carolina. And it hadn’t been Mae he’d rejected, it had been her psychic sight. That issue was gone, too. Her voice came out small and shaky. “What changed your mind?”

  “Jen. My whole life, I’d never been more than a ninety-minute drive away from here. She talked me into spending money I didn’t like to spend, but we saw Alaska, and that was amazing, like a whole new world. And Maine. It’s different up there, too. Not as conservative as here. Me and my folks would be normal in Maine. I reckon it’s like that in New Mexico, too.”

  “Kind of. Except we don’t really have normal around here.”

  Hubert paused, then said, “I was thinking of coming out at Christmas. Rather than you bringing the girls here, I could drive out. If that’s okay with you. Take a look around.”

  He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. “You mean as a tourist?”

  “Not really. If the girls like it there, maybe I could find a job in the area. It’d be better for them, having us closer together.”

  Mae braced her back against the bench. A wall was going up inside her, an intense and frightened resistance. “They’d miss Jim and Sally, and Arnie.”

  “Of course they would. But grandparents and parents, that’s not t
he same thing, is it?”

  “I hope you’re not thinking you and I would get back together.”

  “I wouldn’t come between you and Jamie.”

  “We’re ... I don’t know where we are. If we’re still together or not.”

  “I’m sorry. But if y’all don’t work things out—”

  “Hubert. Don’t go there.” Mae’s heart froze when it wanted to melt. You can’t turn back time. “Let’s see how the girls like their school here, and if they get homesick. See how you and me get along if we see each other more often, too.”

  “Over Christmas, you mean?”

  “Yeah. If you come out. We don’t need to decide that now.”

  They talked a little longer, mostly about the children and about his parents, and then she continued her walk, crossing the rest of the intersection to reach Ralph Edwards Park. What was it with men? Ready to leap before they looked. Hubert, though he seemed so sensible and logical, had a passionate streak under the surface. It went with his stubbornness. He would never give up on marriage and love, no matter how many times he had to try to get it right. Maybe he had more courage than Mae did. Or less good sense.

  She passed the skateboard ramps, where a teenaged boy was flying and clattering along the curves. Then she slowed down to admire the view of the river and Turtleback Mountain. A blue heron cruised over the water. From across the park came a sound like an enormous drum and then a tenor chanting in a minor key, ai-ai-ai-ai, on the wild side but beautiful. Jamie. She turned. He stomped a rhythm on the floor of the bandstand and spun as he sang. The structure resonated, reminding her of the big powwow drum she’d heard in Mescalero.

  Mesmerized and at the same time worried, Mae watched, wondering how long he could keep this up, tired and sick as he was. He suddenly leaned on the railing, his back to her, his straw fedora toppling off his head. Mae ran to him.

  Though the moment had been public, in some way it had been private. She slowed down, hesitant, and then walked around the bandstand to pick up his hat. At that point, she noticed Gasser sitting with his leash attached to the railing. The cat was focused on his owner with what Mae read as concern. Jamie remained bent over, eyes closed, breathless. Then he seemed to feel Mae looking at him, and his huge long-lashed black eyes looked into hers, hot and dazed.

  Mae silenced the words that were about to come out. Don’t ask if he’s okay. Of course he isn’t. She reached up to offer him his hat.

  He took it. “Thanks, love.”

  For another moment their eyes locked, then Jamie gazed out at the Turtle. “Jeezus. I miss climbing. Miss being able to scramble up rocks like that. Wonder if I’ll ever do it again.” He shook his head as if something had landed on it and put on his hat. “Sorry. Whingeing.”

  “It’s okay.” Mae wasn’t sure if he was talking about his old injuries holding him back or his current health problems. “I kinda get it.”

  “You? You’re so fucking intact it’s not normal.”

  His bluntness made her smile. “I miss playing softball.”

  He hauled himself up onto the railing by the support post and reached up to grasp the strip of metal framework around the roof. It didn’t look strong enough to hold his weight and Mae was relieved when he stopped short of a pull-up. Releasing his right-hand grip to flex and extend his wrist and fingers, he sighed. “Maybe someday. Probably not.” He jumped down, making the gazebo echo his landing. “You could play again, though.”

  “If I was younger and my daddy wasn’t the coach, I’d play for the Tarantulas. But I’d feel funny joining the team now.”

  “Have you talked to him about it?”

  “I’m too busy. It’s okay. Sometimes, some part of your life is over. It just has to be.”

  “Fuck.” Jamie unhooked Gasser’s leash from the railing and carried him down the steps. “Think I know where this is going.”

  “Sugar—”

  “Gasser’s been really fussy. Will you look and see if his harness is too tight? Pinches up his fat, y’know?” He cuddled his pet a little higher and blew into his back fur. The cat purred. “I don’t want to give him a blister or anything.”

  Mae probed around the edge of the harness. Gasser’s fat didn’t seem to be pinched. “It fits him good.” To her surprise, Gasser didn’t stop purring at her touch, didn’t hiss or put his ears back. He’d been friendly like this the first time she met him, but he’d started resenting her when she and Jamie became a couple. “Can he tell we aren’t quite together anymore?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t kiss. He’s sensitive to stuff like that.”

  They started down the path along the river, an unspoken mutual decision. Jamie set Gasser down. The cat sniffed plants alongside the path, progressing so slowly that Mae and Jamie often stood still.

  “I like to watch him notice things,” he said. “Funny what you can miss, y’know? Stuff right in front of you. I’ve probably missed half my life, stuck in some fog in my head.” Jamie bent to remove a dry leaf that had snagged in Gasser’s fur, then petted him. “Wonder how many people wake up and realize it’s too late to smell the coffee.”

  Taking slow, ambling steps, he studied the leaf a while before letting it drift off his palm. The breeze blew his perfectly combed-out, fluffy hair, lifting it so Mae could see the layers of color, sun-bright on top, duller ash-blond underneath. And the swollen glands on his neck.

  A current of fear charged her nerves. “You trying to tell me something, sugar?”

  “Nah.” He rubbed the side of his neck. “Being philosophical.”

  Gasser hunkered into a hunting posture, fixated on a pigeon that was eating crumbs near a picnic table. Jamie said, “Jeezus, mate, you’ll never catch that. You’re too fat.” He gave Mae a wink. “But I’m slim and trim again. Sure you don’t want me back?”

  Mae didn’t know how to answer. Jamie’s charm campaigns were full of jokes like this. “We haven’t really broken up. So I can’t take you back if you’re not gone.”

  He sat in the grass beside Gasser, making a face. “Why did I do that? You’ll have to help me back up.”

  “Are you that tired?”

  “Nah. My hip’s killing me. Danced like a lunatic. You saw me.”

  Mae sat beside him, aware of putting a few inches between them. The distance hurt, but closeness would have hurt more. “It was powerful, whatever you were doing. Kind of a shaman dance.”

  Jamie placed his hands behind him and leaned back, frowning up at the sky, then snort-laughed. “I was healing myself.”

  “Is it really just cat scratch disease?”

  “I do have it, yeah.”

  “And that’s all? I need to know, sugar.”

  “What difference would it make? Doesn’t change who I am if I’ve got the black plague or cancer or a cold, does it?” Gasser gave up on the pigeon and flopped next to Jamie, leaning into his leg. Jamie jostled him. “Get up, you lazy bastard. You’re taking a walk.”

  “We’re trying to have a conversation. And we just sat down.”

  “I know, but he needs exercise.”

  Mae stood, and Jamie held out his hand, giving her his baby-seal look. She wondered if he really needed help or if this was more of his charm campaign. Then he handed her Gasser’s leash and used his arms to push himself up, wincing as his hip joint straightened out. “I’m too old for you, love. Too old and worn out.”

  “Sugar, your health doesn’t change who you are, but I don’t want us to take time out if you need me. If you’ve got something serious going on.”

  Jamie looked her in the eye. His voice tightened. “Y’know what, then? It isn’t serious.”

  She’d said the wrong thing. No, it was the truth, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

  They reached the end of the path at a playground and turned back to trace their way along the river. Gasser sat and mewed. Jamie gave him a nudge. “C’mon, mate. You’ve got four legs. Should be easier for you than the rest of us.” Gasser took a few waddling steps, stopped again
, and made another pitiful noise.

  “What?” Jamie squatted and looked his pet in the eye. “Would you rather dance? Is that it?” Coming halfway up in his squat, he set Gasser on his hind legs, holding the cat’s front paws, and pumped them back and forth while wagging his butt and belting out, “Cat Scratch Fever.” Gasser made a warbling sound and took a staggering step.

  Mae found herself caught between laughing and crying. Crying at the unbidden memory of Jamie pulling her into a sudden dance in a grocery store in Santa Fe, back when she hardly knew him. Laughing at him shaking his hips in this silly squat-dance with his cat. Crying at the possible loss of all of it. Jamie scooped Gasser up and hugged him. “Jeezus, you’re a good sport, mate. Can’t believe you put up with me.”

  Mae looked away, and they walked on, Jamie still singing off and on under his breath, moving his shoulders to the beat. He stopped suddenly and left the path to sit at the last picnic table before the street. Mae joined him.

  “Sorry.” He put Gasser down. “Hits me out of the blue sometimes, how tired I am.”

  “I think you’re holding back about your health, sugar. Stop singing and dancing and just tell me.”

  “Nah. First, you have to tell me what you want to do about us.”

  “You have to decide, too, sugar. It’s not just me.”

  He took her hand, sliding his fingers between hers, his thumb massaging hers. “You already know what I want. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Something has for me.” Mae took a deep breath. “Hubert wants to come out over Christmas. I don’t know how that’ll go. But I have to make sure we’re really over.”

  “You and me, or you and Hubert?”

  “Hubert. I have to be sure.”

  Jamie nodded. “Fair enough.”

  His calm response floored Mae. “You’re okay with that?”

  “Bloody hell, I’ve got fucking cancer. I’ll be too sick to give a crap if I have a girlfriend. Probably won’t feel like having sex for a year.”