Ghosts of Bliss Bayou
Page 26
“He doesn’t really like me that much. It was just something crazy that happened, in a crazy situation—”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Abby, think about it. He’s already had his heart broken once this summer. If he has feelings for you, he’s going to keep them in.”
“But why?”
“Duh! Because you’re leaving in a few days and might never come back.”
“Oh!” Damn, I hadn’t even thought of that. I guess I still have a lot to learn about men.
“Actually, Molly, as far as me leaving and not coming back? There’s been a slight change in plans.”
On the second Saturday in August, Harmony Springs celebrates Founders Day. Just like on the Fourth of July, most businesses close early and everyone heads down to the park for a picnic.
Because of her foot, Granma’s not up for going to the picnic. But she won’t be alone for the afternoon. Kevin and Violet drive out to visit, and we all have lunch together. Violet’s walking a little slowly, but it’s great to see that same sparkle in her eyes. The three of them talk about doing more Circle of Harmony rituals together, maybe even initiating new people.
I leave them to their magical schemes and borrow Granma’s car. I’ve been invited to join the Quick family at the picnic. I find Molly and her parents in one of the groves overlooking the river. They’ve got a table spread with food, and Chief Quick is resting on a hammock, sipping a beer. Ray-Ray’s nowhere in sight.
Molly grins at me. “He’s down at the swimming hole. Wanna go swimming?”
“Sure.”
We walk down the path to the inlet. It’s crowded with people splashing around, swimming out to the raft, or just relaxing in the shallows. Kids are running off the dock and jumping in.
I’m looking around for Ray-Ray, when suddenly he’s right in front of me, wearing a swimsuit and dripping wet.
“So, Abby,” he says. “I hear you’re staying another week.”
“That’s right.”
“And that you’re planning to come back next year and live here.”
“Yeah. Things might change, but that’s definitely my plan.”
“Nice.” He looks me over. “So, you going swimming? I do know you can swim.”
I pull the band out of my ponytail and shake my hair loose. “You know, Ray-Ray, sometimes a person wants to jump into things herself. But other times, she needs a little encouragement.”
Ray-Ray takes the hint. He swoops in and lifts me off my feet, then carries me, marching out onto the dock.
“Finally!” Molly shouts. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
Because I’m a normal girl, I laugh and shriek. “No! Don’t throw me in!”
But because I’m also a woman of power, I say softly in his ear, “Jump in with me.”
And he does.
Author’s Note
Harmony Springs is fictional. You won’t find it on any Florida map in what we’ve more or less agreed to call the real world. But you can locate and even visit a town called Micanopy, which looks suspiciously like downtown Harmony Springs. If you’d like to see what the springs themselves might look like, try the glass-bottom boat rides at nearby Silver Springs State Park—another remnant of what we around here like to call “the real Florida.”
The Circle of Harmony is, of course, also fictional. But the nineteenth-century occult revival and utopian communities in Florida were real things. Those interested in this peculiar corner of the past might enjoy looking up the histories of the Florida towns of Ruskin, Estero, and especially Cassadaga.
I’m extremely grateful to my beta readers: Nancy Berkowitz, Peggy McKnight, Dakota M. Lu, and particularly John W. Kelly (who pulls no punches). An author cannot succeed without thoughtful and serious feedback.
My copy editor, Christina M. Frey of Page Two Editing, worked with me line by line to make this book the best it could be. Her dedication, acuity, and thoroughness surpassed all my expectations. Sincere thanks also to author Jana Oliver and her husband, Harold Buehl, for generously sharing their knowledge of the publishing business, as well as authors Tyra Burton and Kathryn Hinds, for years of friendship and support.
Last and most, to my beloved M, who reads every word and does magic every day: this book’s for you.
And thank you!
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