Touch of Shadow

by April Aasheim

  “Ah, the Little Mermaids,” Dave reminisced, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back into the chair. “They were nice, but they were no match for the Tinkerbells. Whoo!”

  “Small-town entertainment at its finest,” Rachel said, her lips curved into a forced smile. “I wish I would have known Dave then, before he got the cute belly pudge.” She poked at his stomach, then pushed the empty cookie tray towards the edge of the table.

  Dave sat up quickly. “I forgot to introduce you to this little guy!” he said. He ruffled the fine blonde hair of the baby, who was gleefully tossing Cheerios towards the woman at the next table. Dave wiped the cereal from the tray and offered the child a set of iron keys to play with instead. Though I couldn’t place their original purpose, I could tell the keys were very old. Rachel must have considerable resources, if she was allowing a baby to play with something so valuable.

  “He has a name,” Rachel said. “Right now it’s Pete. But I may go with Peter or Petey as he grows into his face. What do you think he looks like?”

  Rachel touched my bare wrist, as if we were old friends. Though I saw her hand moving towards mine, as if in slow motion, I didn’t have the wherewithal to pull away in time. I wasn’t prepared to see any of her memories, but it was too late. I felt the familiar jolt run down my spine, like metal on a rotten tooth.

  Rachel looked behind her, overstuffed suitcases pulling at her hands. Through the fog and darkness of the witching hour, she could see the taxi idling near the tall iron gate. Thank god she had managed to get the security code earlier that week, or else her plan would never have worked.

  “No one ever comes out here,” the driver said through the open window. “I didn’t even know this place was still occupied.”

  Rachel stuffed a wad of bills in the driver’s hands. “I’ll give you ten more if you keep your mouth shut, and an additional twenty if you get me there early.”

  “Not a problem.”

  She thrust her suitcases carelessly into the open trunk, closing it as quietly as she could, then got into the back seat. She glanced at the baby, who was already strapped snugly into his car seat beside her.

  “We’re going home,” she said, sinking back against the leather.

  “Rachel!” The voice was distant, but closing fast.

  “Looks like someone doesn’t want you to go,” the driver said.

  “Pull away! Go! Now!” She ordered. “Greasadh!”

  Rachel clutched her chest until she passed through the gate. It closed behind her. Only then did she dare to breathe again.

  Rachel’s eyes widened as she pulled her hand away. Did she sense what I had seen? Dave knew of my talent, but had he shared it with her? Either way, she quickly brushed it off, like nothing more than an annoying mosquito.

  But I couldn’t rid myself of the flashback so easily. Rachel was running away from someone. But who? And why? I discreetly glanced at Dave, who was staring dreamily at his wife, his hand comically cupping his chin.

  “Need a napkin?” I asked Dave coolly.

  “Huh?”

  “For the drool. “I batted my lashes innocently, then nodded at little Pete-Peter-Petey. Dave took a tissue and dabbed at the corner of the baby’s lips.

  “Dave is so good with children,” Rachel cooed, plucking a Cheerio from his hair. “He’s a natural father. The fact that I couldn’t give him a child was the only problem in our marriage. But I’ve been seeing naturalists, nutritionists and even an acupuncturist. As you can see, problem solved.”

  She smiled at Dave, who smiled right back. It was a good thing I hadn’t eaten much, as it would have come right back up.

  “Well, I’d better run along,” Rachel said, grabbing her designer purse as she rose to her feet. She bent over and whispered something in Dave’s ear, which elicited a huge smile. Then she knelt beside the stroller. “Mommy’s gonna be a little while, but don’t you worry. Papa Davey will look after you, won’t you Papa Davey?”

  Papa Davey?

  “Yep. We’re gonna have a boy’s day out.”

  “Ta-ta,” she said, expertly weaving her way through the crowd and out of the tea house.

  I caught sight of something under Rachel’s chair – a folded paper napkin. But there are no paper napkins in The Little Tea Pot. They were all starched white linen. While Dave tended to the baby, I discreetly picked it up with my fingernails, so as to avoid direct contact. A name and phone number were written on it: Audrey Beane. 541-9964.

  Was Audrey related to Mayor Beane? And did this napkin belong to Rachel?

  It seemed an odd, but compelling coincidence.

  I pressed the napkin between my fingers. It didn’t take long for an image to appear in my mind’s eye:

  Rachel stood beneath a canopy formed by several tall trees, rain plastering her hair against her face. She inspected the cellphone and dialed the number again. “Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

  A text came back: You’re not supposed to call me this early. We’ll meet as planned. Just don’t stress out, okay?

  Rachel gritted her teeth. How could she not stress out? She took a deep breath and typed back, Okay, I’ll be there soon. Just think about what I told you, okay? Goodbye.

  She put the phone away and folded up the napkin, shoving both into her deep coat pocket.

  Audrey seemed to have her mind made up. Maybe this was all a waste of time.

  “Time is a luxury I don’t have,” she muttered to herself, leaving the protection of the trees.

  Five

  I tucked the napkin into my purse as I watched Rachel walking down Main Street through the tea house window. Her skirt was too tight and her heels too high, but she walked with confidence and authority not usually found in this small town.

  I wasn’t the only one watching her. She drew stares from all sides. Though she was undeniably pretty, it wasn’t her physical beauty that called the eye, so much as her sense of purpose. Most people in our town just rambled – but Rachel was a woman who knew exactly where she was going.

  “She’s great, isn’t she?” Dave asked, pulling my attention back.

  I nodded as I gave the baby a more thorough look, searching for any resemblance to Dave. Nothing in the child’s ruddy coloring or pale blonde hair showed that lineage.

  Dave laughed. “No, he isn’t mine. If he was, I sure wouldn’t have named him Pete.”

  I pressed my lips together, wondering if it was my place to speak up. But I had known Dave my entire life - I couldn’t just keep my mouth shut about something so monumental. “I’m sorry for my surprise, it’s just rather sudden. Three weeks ago you told me you… had feelings for me. And then you disappeared completely. No calls. No texts.” I blinked several times as I kneaded a linen napkin. “I’m just not sure how to react.” I shrugged, trying to force a smile. Only one side of my mouth cooperated.

  “I’m sorry. I know I should have told you when she showed up a couple of weeks ago, out of the blue. We’ve been holed up since then, talking and reconnecting. Things are looking good.” He grinned so broadly I thought his face would break.

  “Talking, huh? I’ve never seen a man smile like that after a couple weeks of talking. In fact, after that much sustained conversation, I’m surprised you didn’t run away screaming.”

  “Why Baylee Bonds Scott – you’re jealous!” Dave cracked his knuckles, as if he were about to unlock a safe.

  “I’m not jealous, just surprised. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

  But Dave wasn’t buying it. He leaned forward, taking my hand in his. The only jolt I felt was one of warmth and familiarity. It was bittersweet.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” I said. “I understand.”

  His fingers massaged mine, purposely avoiding my ring finger. I stared at his ring, having never seen him wear one before. Still, I allowed the touch to linger. Because of our history and familiarity, Dave was one of the few people able to shield himself from me, and it was a nice reprieve.

&nb
sp; “I think I love her,” Dave said, squeezing my hand. “I wish things had worked out between you and me, Baylee, but you made it pretty clear you weren’t over Ryan. I couldn’t be the rebound, or a stand-in, and I cared too much for you to play it casual.”

  “Dave-“

  His eyes narrowed and his hand clenched. “Don’t think I haven’t thought this through. What if you and I did end up together, and then Ryan came back? What then, Baylee? You shouldn’t have to make that choice.”

  The moonstone ring tightened on my finger, usually a signal of danger. I pulled my hand away and took a long swill of tea to quell my quivering bottom lip, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  “Is Pete’s father in the picture anymore?” I asked, recalling the memory of Rachel running away. If the father was dangerous, I hoped that Dave was prepared.

  “Rachel says he’s gone. Apparently, the guy was not into having a kid, even though they were seeing fertility specialists together.”

  Dave shrugged and rubbed his chin with the back of one of his hands. “Truthfully, I wish the kid was mine. But did you see how happy Rachel looks? She was devastated when she found out we couldn’t have children – er… she couldn’t have children. All she ever wanted was to have a family. This is our shot, Baylee, even if we don’t share the same DNA.”

  I knew how much Dave wanted to be a dad. His own childhood had been full of instability, and he had a deep need to right it in the next generation. It didn’t matter if the baby was his or not – he had Dave’s heart.

  “I’m here if you need me,” I said. “That goes for Little P, too.”

  “I like that! Little P! Makes him sound gangster!”

  I looked at Little P, in his OshKosh B’gosh onesie, nestled in his Pottery Barn stroller. “Gangster, indeed,” I said, returning Dave’s smile.

  My phone began vibrating in my purse. No one called or texted besides Alex and Kela. I ignored it… until it started again.

  “I’d better get this.”

  My phone was not only vibrating, it was blinking. Purple lights filled the screen. Then pink. Then blue and purple again. Amidst it all, a thought bubble appeared with a message: “Congratulations! You’ve Been Switched! Tap here!”

  “Huh?”

  Dave leaned in to see why my phone was having seizures. I quickly stood up, pulling away. “One moment,” I said, frantically trying to mute the sound. “I really have no idea what is going on. It’s like my phone is possessed!”

  When the flashing lights stopped, a photo of a good-looking young man with a heavy tan smiled at me. “Meet your Switch: Josh!”

  Josh was gifted with gleaming white teeth and perfectly parted hair. According to the information bubble beneath his photo, he enjoyed: College Basketball, CrossFit, and Cabo Wabo - The Three C’s, as he termed them. And he was waiting for me at This Very Minute!

  “Will you accept?” The lone button repeatedly flashed “Yes!” No was not an option.

  “Something wrong?” Dave asked as I turned further away, frantically punching buttons to close the app.

  “No I-…”

  Accidentally hit Accept.

  “Excellent!” said the screen. “Your Switch has been Notified!”

  I shoved the phone deep into my purse and gathered up my things. “I have to go,” I said, rushing towards the door. “We’ll talk soon, I promise!”

  The wind ruffled my hair and fought my jacket as I quickly crossed the street. Waiting for me, with the promise of True Love, was a man with white teeth and neat hair, who rolled tractor tires just for fun.

  Surely, the timing meant something.

  There are no accidents.

  I at least owed it to the universe to check this out.

  With any luck, Josh wouldn’t have an ex-wife who showed up unexpectedly after years of being AWOL, with someone else’s baby.

  The Java Crowd Coffee Boutique was particularly boisterous today, filled with gossiping housewives and college students who were bubble-wrapped in a layers of sweaters, sporting headphones and smartphones. Two older men played backgammon in a far corner, chatting about the mayor’s sudden demise.

  “I still think they ought to have the party,” said one of the men.

  “I don’t,” said his opponent. “We need to respect the dead. Too bad his wife hasn’t learned that lesson.”

  I wanted to continue listening, but my phone was insistently vibrating, demanding that I find my match. I searched for Mr. White Teeth as I maneuvered through the mob. It was so noisy in here. Perhaps if Josh and I had any chemistry, I could entice him back to The Aunt-Tea-Query.

  Looking around, I spotted Rachel conversing with a woman near the register. This new woman seemed familiar, but I couldn’t recall where I knew her from. I grabbed a plastic menu and held it over my face, pretending to read as I crept forward. I found a good vantage point near a game shelf, where I could appraise them more carefully.

  It was Audrey Moone!

  My stars!

  When I recognized her champagne hair and pert nose, my blood began to simmer. She had been a senior when I was a freshman, and she often took it upon herself to remind everyone that I was a freak. When I landed the lead role in the drama club’s production of Oklahoma, Audrey claimed I’d gotten the part by casting a spell on our teacher. When I won a raffle for a free pizza party, Audrey pointed out loudly that it was too bad I had no friends to invite. And when Erik Olverson asked me to homecoming, it was Audrey who announced that she had put him up to it, asserting that she felt sorry for me.

  There were only a few people in the world whom I outwardly disliked – and Audrey Moone was one of them. I had managed to put her out of my mind over these last years, but now here she was. And she was apparently friends with Dave’s wife? Was she the Audrey on the napkin?

  I tightened the grip on my handbag and marched over to them, feeling more empowered than I ever had in high school. Let her say something about me being a freak now. One word, or even one eye roll, and I’d use my powers to extract whatever secrets she might hold, and expose them to everyone within hearing range.

  Audrey glanced at me as I closed the gap, without the slightest flicker of recognition in her eyes. Nor did Rachel acknowledge me. They continued with their conversation, something about cloth diapers vs. disposables. I’d been hiding behind a menu, needlessly as it turned out, because neither of them remembered who I was.

  My anger melted like frosting on a warm cake, quickly giving way to embarrassment.

  I needed to leave before they figured out I was stalking them.

  In my hurry to escape, I tripped over a clean white sneaker, whose owner sported equally white teeth. He caught my arm and steadied me. The mythical Josh.

  “Thank you,” I said, glancing back to see if Audrey and Rachel had noticed. “I’m not normally so clumsy,” I lied.

  “You’re pretty,” he said, seemingly unfazed, as he guided me towards a small table, where a backpack and a stack of comic books awaited. He pulled out a chair for me. “You’re Baylee, right? You don’t look exactly like your picture, but they never do.”

  “Thank you,” I said, confused. “I confess; I can’t remember which picture I used.”

  Josh lifted his phone, displaying the picture of me in the beret. But in this version, I had actual cheekbones, there were no dark circles under my eyes, and my waist was impressively narrower. I looked almost statuesque. Kela had obviously doctored the photo.

  “I was a little younger then and …taller.”

  “You shrank since the photo?”

  “It’s congenital… waitress! I called flagging down the nearest apron. I was going to kill Kela. If she was lucky.

  “I’m not disappointed,” Josh said, adding four packets of sugar to his coffee. “You look nice. I like your eyes.”

  I tapped my feet nervously under the table while I waited for the server to bring my drink. “Do you have any questions for me?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  He grinned and s
at up straight. “Your profile says you love travel, rock and roll, and fun. That’s what really caught my attention. That, and those eyes.”

  Travel, rock-and-roll, and fun? Kela could have mentioned my love of archeology, anthropology, astrology, or any other ‘-ology’. Her generic description made me sound like a simple-minded party girl, and now I was afraid I’d disappoint him.

  “I like to think I’m well-rounded,” I replied.

  “Yeah. Well-rounded.” Josh smiled, nodding. By the dopey expression he wore, I surmised he wasn’t referring to my intellect. “I looked at your picture for an hour last night before deciding to Switch you. I know you’re a little older, but experience turns me on.”

  Older?

  “Josh,” I said, delicately. “How old are you?”

  “You know how old I am. It says so on my bio.” He pulled out his phone and showed me his profile. “Twenty-two. Twenty-three in March. I’m a Pisces.” He winked, then raised his eyebrows.

  “Right.”

  “I’m almost out of school. I’m going into finance or something, after I graduate from RHU.”

  “I see.”

  “And if that doesn’t work out, my granddad says he can get me a job in government, once he’s the mayor. With his connections, I bet I can move right up the ladder. I’ll be city planner by thirty, if I last that long. I mean, who wants to live to thirty, right? Woops! I’m sorry.”

  “Your grandfather’s running for mayor?” I asked, suddenly interested.

  “Grandpa Gus runs every term, and always loses to Elmer. But not this time.” Josh raised his cup of coffee, offering a toast. “Hard to lose to a dead man, right? You’re a good listener, Baylee. I could really get to like you. Who knows, this might be true love.”

  Josh’s phone began vibrating, crawling across the table and knocking against my coffee cup. My own phone sounded in my purse. The buzzing was everywhere, like cicadas coming out of long hibernation. All around the café, people were reaching for their phones.

  “What’s happening?” I asked, digging through my purse. “Is this an emergency broadcast?”