by Lisa Moreau
“What’s your rush, my dear?” The fortune-teller spoke in a thick Russian accent.
“I’m sorry. I was trying to get cell service.” Jordan held up her phone.
“Are you new in town?”
“Sorta. Is your cell working? Is there bad reception here or something?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t have a cellular device. Where are you visiting from?”
Jordan had no intention of telling a stranger her life story. “The south. Well, I should get going. Sorry about running into you.”
The fortune-teller matched Jordan’s stride as she followed her down the street. “You seem familiar. Do I know you?”
Jordan peered at the woman sideways. “I’m pretty sure we’ve never met.”
“What brings you to town?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m really late.” Jordan quickened her pace, relieved that the woman’s short, stubby legs couldn’t keep up. When Jordan was in the clear, she glanced back and saw the tail end of the sparkly indigo gown disappear into the psychic parlor.
Butterfly wind chimes clanged as Jordan opened the door to Bertha’s Coffee Shop. A woman behind the counter looked up, inhaled sharply, and placed both hands on her cheeks. The smattering of patrons turned toward the door, all eyes on Jordan.
Do they know I’m the honker? Is that what this is about?
“Oh, my heavens, a real, live celebrity in my restaurant!” The woman flew out from behind the counter and was inches away from Jordan within seconds. She’d never seen anyone move so fast. Jordan took a step back, the woman clearly invading her personal space.
“Welcome to Monarch, Ms…Ms…well now, I never forget a face, but I’m not so good with names.” The woman’s bright, shining face looked up at her questioningly. She had plump, rosy cheeks, sparkly blue eyes, and wore a ruffled flower apron. She reminded Jordan of Mrs. Claus.
“Jordan. Jordan Lee.”
“That’s it! I’m Bertha.” The woman inched forward and studied Jordan closely. “Why, you’re prettier than a mess of fried catfish. I saw you on Ophelia. I can’t believe you’re actually standing right here in my coffee shop.” The woman talked fast and couldn’t have been more excited if she’d just won the lottery.
“So tell me,” Bertha whispered. “Is it true what the tabloids say? Is Ophelia having an affair with her bodyguard?”
“Well…um…I wouldn’t know,” Jordan said.
“Oh my, listen to me. I’m just going on and on. Come on in and have a seat.”
Jordan followed the woman to the counter and sat on a barstool. She saw a flash of something blue out the corner of both eyes. Looking to the left and then the right, she wondered if she wasn’t seeing double. Two identical women sat on either side of her. They looked to be in their sixties, both wearing blue dresses and with blue tinted hair, which was probably the result of a dye job gone wrong. Their spindly legs dangled from the barstools, which made Jordan wonder if they were even five feet tall. They reminded her of elves. Had she stumbled upon the North Pole?
“This is Molly and Mabel,” Bertha said. “They own the used bookstore just down the street.”
“Let me guess. You two are sisters.”
Both women giggled and covered their mouths with a hand. “Identical twins,” one of them said.
“What can I get you?” Bertha asked.
“Just coffee. Black is fine.”
“I have some cherry pie. Baked it myself. How about a slice?”
“No thanks,” Jordan said.
“Are you really a celebrity?” blue-haired woman number one asked.
“Don’t you remember we saw her on Ophelia?” blue-haired woman number two said.
“I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast, much less what was on TV. Are you an actress?”
“No. I own Soul Mate Outreach Solutions in Beverly Hills.”
“Beverly Hills, ooh la la,” both women said in unison.
“Ms. Lee is a matchmaker to the stars,” Bertha said. “How long will you be in town?”
“Please call me Jordan. And I should be here for a few months.”
“Oh, how wonderful! I know you work with celebrities, but I have a friend who could really use your expertise. I was just telling her about you the other day.”
“Well, if I have time I’d be happy to help her out.” Jordan looked at her cell phone. Still no bars.
“Did you come for the Monarch Festival?” one of the twins asked.
“Not exactly.” Jordan glanced around, hoping this was an Internet café. No such luck.
“Now, now, girls. Let’s not hound Ms. Lee.” Bertha leaned across the bar and whispered, “But really, though, what brings you to Monarch?”
Jordan smirked. These women were cute. Nosy, but cute in an old-fashioned, Mayberry sort of way.
“Actually, you might be able to help me. Do you know where Moonshadow Beach Drive is? I’m looking for the condominiums.” Jordan took a sip of quite possibly the best coffee she’d ever tasted, but then again, after that instant crap, anything would be good.
“Of course, Ms…I mean Jordan.” Bertha smiled and grabbed a napkin and pen. “Go up yonder to Main Street and take a left in front of the Larva Laundry.” Bertha sketched out a map as she spoke. “Then follow that road until you get to the first stop sign, then take another left. That’ll be Moonshadow Beach Drive. Go straight, along the ocean, and the condominiums will be on your right. You can’t miss ’em.”
“This is great. Thank you.” Jordan stuffed the napkin into her bag.
“It’d be wonderful if you came to the festival.” Bertha produced a butterfly-shaped flyer like a skilled magician. These people did love their butterflies. They must have a cut-out factory somewhere.
Jordan read the flyer to herself: Help Save the Monarchs. Butterfly Daze Festival—Saturday December 8th.
“Yeah, great. I’ll be sure and do that.” Scary how convincingly she could lie. Sometimes she even fooled herself.
*
Sophie didn’t normally work at the sanctuary on Sundays, but she suspected the monarch eggs would hatch and didn’t want to miss that. A video camera perched on a tripod in front of two cups, which each held a tiny white egg. She’d spent the afternoon working on her computer and checking the eggs, which sat on her desk. Upon the fifteenth examination, both pearls vibrated at the same time, and Sophie’s heart pounded in excitement. They’d be hatching any minute now.
Sophie clicked on the video camera and zoomed in on the two eggs. She’d captured the birth of one caterpillar before, but never two at the same time. Satisfied that everything was in frame and focused, she took her eyes off of the video screen. She wanted to see the process live, not through a camera lens.
Both eggs cracked open at the same time as two miniscule black heads poked out from their respective shells. It took several seconds for each caterpillar to begin wiggling through the hole. Sophie was amazed how they were mirroring each other every step of the way. They were both struggling so hard to free themselves that she resisted the urge to help, reminding herself that nature didn’t need assistance. After several minutes, the tiny caterpillars hatched at the same time. Sophie looked around, elated and wishing someone were here to share the excitement. At times like this, being single felt lonely.
She watched as the white creatures moved their black heads back and forth and stretched their segmented bodies. Their first meal would be the eggshell, loaded with protein. Later, though, Sophie would put milkweed in the cups, and they’d munch on that as they grew. She watched the birth over and over, each time even more amazing than the last. She loved every stage of the monarch lifecycle but found something special about the birth. It was new life, a new beginning. It gave her hope.
After locking up the sanctuary for the night, Sophie headed to the beach. The ocean was almost as awesome as butterflies. It didn’t get much better than walking barefoot along the shore with a vibrant red-and-orange sunset as a backdrop. Sophie edged cl
oser to the water’s edge but jumped back as it washed toward her. She stopped suddenly and bent down to pick something up, then shook her head and stuffed a Snickers wrapper into her pocket until she found a trash can. Litter was one of her pet peeves. Tourists. Of course she wasn’t sure it came from a tourist, but she couldn’t believe a Monarch resident would be so disrespectful.
Continuing her stroll, Sophie sneered when she passed the condominiums. Just another symbol of how money-hungry corporations were destroying nature. Several years ago, trees had been uprooted and the land leveled to build the monstrosity complex, which was a little too close to the sanctuary for her taste. Thank goodness Frances had refused to sell; otherwise, the condos could be sitting where the sanctuary now stood. Sophie shuddered at the thought of the eucalyptus trees and milkweed field being destroyed. Hopefully Charles, or whoever inherited the land, would protect it as Frances had.
Sophie flinched as something flew toward her and landed on her shoulder. It was a super-cute ladybug with an oval red body and black polka dots. According to Madame Butterfly, ladybugs were a sign of good luck and signaled that wishes would be fulfilled. After a few minutes, the ladybug flew away. Sophie gazed at it in flight until she saw a breathtaking sight. A beautiful woman leaned against the railing of her deck, looking out into the ocean. She was wearing a flowing ivory robe that billowed in the breeze as she ran her hand through wind-tousled hair. Sophie’s chest tightened. Something about the woman reminded her of Jordan.
Sophie would never forget the first time she saw Jordan in Mrs. Conner’s fifth-grade math class. Jordan and her father had just moved to town after her parents’ divorce. It couldn’t have been easy being the new kid in school, which was something Sophie never had to experience since she was born in Monarch. With downcast eyes and drooping shoulders, Jordan had stood by the teacher’s desk. When her gaze lifted to hunt for an empty chair, their eyes had locked. Everything else in the room disappeared except for Jordan. Sophie had felt like Jordan reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with blazing hazel eyes, rosy lips, and the face of an angel. Hands down, she was the prettiest girl Sophie had ever seen.
For weeks after that, Sophie had tried to befriend Jordan, attempting to strike up a conversation in the hall or at lunch, but Jordan had been shy and distant. It wasn’t until Sophie’s mom landed in jail that they’d become friends. Sophie was sitting under the large eucalyptus tree, crying, when Jordan approached. Sophie had tensed when Jordan sat beside her, expecting an onslaught of questions about her jailbird mom.
Instead, though, Jordan asked, “Do you like butterflies, Princess?”
“Why’d you call me Princess?” Sophie asked through a sob. Jordan responded with a shrug. “Yes. I love them.”
“I’d never seen a monarch until I moved here. Do you know anything about them?”
They spent the next hour with Sophie teaching Jordan everything she knew about butterflies. Jordan sat attentively and asked endless questions. Sophie was shocked, and felt a little guilty, to realize she actually had a smile on her face. It was the first time she hadn’t thought about her mom in days.
The sound of a seagull squawking overhead brought Sophie back to the present. Tears sprang to her eyes, whether because of memories of her mother…or Jordan, she wasn’t sure.
Chapter Five
Butterflies in the Mist
Jordan woke early after only a few hours’ sleep. The condo was nice, but the fact that she was actually in Monarch had kept her awake half the night. And thinking she’d seen Sophie walking on the beach hadn’t helped. Crazy. Would every blonde in Monarch remind her of Sophie?
Leaning against the kitchen counter, Jordan sipped a cup of strong coffee and grabbed her cell phone as it vibrated. “Hey, Doug.”
“Hey. Just making sure you made it safely. How are you doing?”
“Honestly? I don’t know how I’ll survive for two months. Monarch is the size of Mayberry and filled with Aunt Bea types.”
“You went to school there. Weren’t you prepared for that?”
“Yeah, well, I forgot how small it is, and it’s changed quite a bit. It looks like a butterfly threw up in the town square.”
“Ew, that’s gross. And I don’t think butterflies throw up. Are you okay? I’m going to worry about you.”
“I’m fine. Just take care of things there.”
“Don’t worry about anything here, and call me if you need to talk. I’ll check in with you soon.”
“Thanks. Talk to you later.”
Jordan grabbed a pen and circled the date, December third, on a butterfly calendar hanging on the wall. That was the start of her two-month jail sentence. She’d mark off the days with an X until her release on February third, when she’d not only be free, but rich as well.
Since Jordan wasn’t scheduled to meet Mr. Simms at the sanctuary until that afternoon, she headed for the beach. If she had to be stuck someplace for two months, at least she had a luxury condo by the ocean. Jordan couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been to the beach, even though she lived only thirty minutes away. She spent all her time at work, entertaining clients, or schmoozing at parties, which didn’t leave much time for nature activities.
Jordan walked to the water’s edge and stretched her arms high overhead, breathing in the scent of damp salt and seaweed. The waves were gentle, almost like being at a lake on a windy day. It was a foggy, gray morning with the sun straining to break through an overcast sky. Jordan zipped her fleece jacket as a cool wind blew her way. Aside from one lone figure barely visible through the haze, she was completely alone. The central coast was different from LA, fewer crowds and cleaner beaches―except maybe for this one.
As Jordan kicked a plastic bottle down the shoreline, her thoughts drifted to her father. Ever since she could remember, she’d craved his acceptance and praise, which she never received. He kept his emotions buried deep within and was never one to be affectionate. She couldn’t remember a time when he hugged her or said “I love you.” He’d always been distant and strict, which seemed to get worse after the divorce. Even so, Jordan had loved her father. In many ways, he was her sole parent since her mother traveled so much. Maybe he’d changed over the years and regretted his actions. Jordan wasn’t sure, though, if she wanted to reconcile with him. Hurt and bitterness still burned in her soul. How could he have been cruel enough to disown her?
As she strolled down the beach, a trail that climbed to the bluff overlooking the ocean caught her eye. She was certain it led to the eucalyptus grove that housed her and Sophie’s tree. Jordan’s stomach clenched. Seeing the tree again, which was the last place she and Sophie were together, would be painful. Jordan wasn’t sure if she was ready to walk down memory lane, but before she knew it, she was heading for the trail.
Once she reached the top of the bluff, she stopped to catch her breath. It was a steep climb, and flip-flops weren’t the best hiking attire. After resting for a bit, she headed down the path into the forest. As the early morning fog rolled in, a thick, gray mist hung in the trees, which made the place seem eerie in a Friday the 13th horror-movie sort of way. She felt like Little Red Riding Hood, half expecting the big bad wolf, or something worse, to jump from behind a tree. The farther she walked, the hazier things became. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. She considered turning back, but her desire to see the tree again urged her on. When Jordan turned a corner in the trail, she stopped. Several yards ahead stood the largest eucalyptus tree in the forest. Her heart ached as thoughts of that New Year’s Eve emerged. She didn’t want to relive that night.
Jordan sneezed twice as the scent of eucalyptus tickled her nose. Great. She was allergic to nature. She took a few steps forward before she heard a rustle in the bushes and stopped abruptly. Her heart raced. It could be anything, a squirrel, deer…Bigfoot. Jordan broke out in a cold sweat, hoping she wouldn’t faint. The sound was growing louder, the monster edging closer. Was this where she’d
die? In the middle of nowhere? They’d never find her body out here. As much as she wanted to run, she was too petrified to move. Jordan flinched as something stepped into the clearing, and her heart leapt into her throat.
It wasn’t Bigfoot. It was Sophie. She was sure of it.
Jordan ducked behind a tree so as not to been seen. Sophie extended her arms in a wide circle, stretching them high overhead before ending with both palms together at her chest. A ray of sunlight peeked through the haze and shined a beam of light, which illuminated her in golden hues. She looked stunning. Jordan’s heart fluttered, amazed she was actually a few yards away from Sophie. So many times she’d thought she’d seen Sophie walking down Rodeo Drive or at a party. Her heart would skip a beat and the world would stop spinning, until she realized it wasn’t her. But this wasn’t a mirage. It was the real, live Sophie.
Jordan crept closer to get a better look. Sophie’s eyes popped open when Jordan stepped on a thorn and released a muffled cry, which sounded like a wounded animal. Damn flip-flops. She froze, hidden behind the tree, as Sophie glanced around the forest. Seemingly deciding she wasn’t in danger, Sophie approached the eucalyptus tree. She walked around the circumference three times while looking up into the branches. When she stopped and held out her hand, two butterflies landed in her palm. She smiled at the winged creatures, which were inches away from her nose. Jordan could see Sophie’s lips moving but couldn’t make out what she was saying. After a couple of minutes the butterflies flew back into the tree, carrying the whispered messages with them. Sophie walked around the trunk of the tree and repeated the process, except this time only one butterfly landed in her palm.
