Cupid Painted Blind

by Phaedra Weldon

  Her name was Judy. And I was filled with a nasty green-eyed-monster.

  Present: that same night.

  Judy was at the door. Hadden was asleep on the couch, a deep sleep induced by pure exhaustion and mental anguish. I knew this state, having experienced it so often in my life.

  He couldn't hear the knocking. Why didn't Judy use her key? Had she given it back?

  This was my one chance to make Hadden happy.

  Judy would have to see me. My only fear was that she'd become frightened and go into labor.

  I knew I would never be able to make him as happy as Judy possibly could. And the only way this rift could be mended is if she knew I was real and Hadden wasn't crazy.

  I unlocked the door, spending more energy than I'd ever had moving the locking mechanism.

  She stood on the landing, her hair plastered to her face, no longer perfect. Mascara streaked her checks in black rivulets. Her face was swollen as if she'd been crying. She had one hand on her right hip, supporting the weight of her distended belly.

  At that moment, Judy wasn't the sultry vixen I'd seen her as. She was a woman with a broken heart.

  This was something I could handle.

  "Hadden?" Her voice quivered, no longer sure, as she swaggered inside. She held a sack in her hand, and I saw it was a package, wrapped in birthday paper.

  This strengthened my resolve. If she had gone out and bought him something for this day and braved this weather, all for Hadden, I could show myself to her for him.

  I waited until she'd set the package down on the kitchen table before calling up the ectoplasm. Later Billy said I looked great. This frumpy, thick old white haired woman in a flowered housedress with slippers, standing in a blue-white light in the center of the kitchen.

  It sounded great and sweet.

  It scared the hell out of Judy. She shrieked and stepped back and almost bolted out the door. So I pushed it closed.

  Her right hand worked that knob back and forth as she tried to escape my Aunt Bea apparition.

  "Judy, will you please calm down? You're gonna cause that baby to be born before her time." I wasn't sure if she could hear me over her ragged sobs and breathing.

  She did. Judy stopped moving, her eyes nearly bugging from her head.

  "There. Now, sit down and listen to me. I don't have much time."

  To my surprise, she did exactly as I commanded. Though here eyes stayed incredibly large. She reminded me of a rabbit caught in a car's headlight. A very pregnant rabbit.

  "Judy, Hadden loves you. He wasn't making me up. I've taken care of him for a year a half, and he's shown a lonely, old woman a good time. Do you love him?"

  She nodded.

  "Good."

  Judy's eyes were abruptly less wide. Her face less tense, the lines fading. She blinked several times, then pointed at me. "Y-you're...Babs?"

  "Yes. Barbara Small."

  "He's not crazy."

  "No." I smiled at her. She was warming to me. I could tell. "He's incredibly gifted. He's incredibly wonderful. I want you to take care of him."

  "I..." Judy's face was completely free of lines, of fear. "I...didn't believe you were real. He said he'd never seen you."

  "And he hasn't. You've seen me. No one else. Now," I felt something twinge in my mid-section, right around the tummy. It reminded me of a thread snapping. Some tenuous connection breaking. But to what? "You have to keep this a secret, okay? Just accept him, love him, take care of him. Can you make me that promise?"

  Judy nodded. Then she really shocked me.

  She actually smiled. "I promise." She winced, grabbed her swollen belly.

  Another thread popped. Then another, very much like the strings on a violin. What was happening?

  "Babs? You're beginning to fade." She winced again.

  I looked down at my arms. I was indeed fading, as if someone were turning the knob of an adjustable light. I was also beginning to float upward, and not because I wanted too.

  I looked at Judy. She was pale. Lines creased her face. "Judy…is it time?"

  "Babs?" Judy looked around the kitchen. "Where are you?" She doubled over then. "Oh boy."

  The sound of water hitting the kitchen's tile floor caught my attention. Though I'd never had children, I knew when a pregnant mother's water had broken. It was time to wake Hadden up and bring his little girl into the world.

  "Billy?" I said.

  "Right here boss."

  I looked to my right and saw him, rising with me. "What's happening? We've got to wake Hadden up."

  "We're moving on, Babs."

  "But Hadden–?"

  But Hadden was coming through the kitchen door from the living room, his eyes wide and a smile splitting his haggard face. I watched him take Judy in his arms as she motioned for him to grab the phone.

  It was time. The little one was coming, and I was going.

  Hadden would be all right.

  I had one of those moments then, so rare that they stay with you, in life and in death. An epiphany. All through my life I had held out for something. Was it love? Acceptance? An end to loneliness?

  I couldn't put my finger on it. Not as a single thing. I only knew that I had loved completely, totally for the first time. And I was willing to sacrifice myself for that love. Totally, and beyond regrets.

  Hadden would be fine. So would Judy.

  No. One regret. I wouldn't see the child grow up to become a loving, caring young woman.

  They didn't need me.

  I was moving on.

  Skyward, to the azure horizon, and the stars beyond.

  About the Author…

  Phaedra Weldon is the author of the Urban Fantasy series, Zoë Martinique Investigation, published by Berkley, available for Kindle. She most recently completed the soon-to-be released Eureka novel, Brain Box Blues. Look for it in stores Winter 2010 under the name Cris Ramsay.

  © Copyright 2010, all rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  For more information about the author please her visit website at www.phaedraweldon.com