by Dara Girard
“I know.” She stood and grabbed her handbag off the back of her chair. “It’s a family trait.”
Michelle left the shop, rubbing her arms, feeling suddenly chilled in spite of the warm evening, the sky fresh with the scent of rain that had yet to fall. A bad sign BJ had said. No, she wouldn’t see it that way. She couldn’t. If she’d told him the truth about Roy he’d understand, but then he may worry. And she didn’t need that. She also couldn’t tell him about the Winfields. That would truly bother him. Her story wouldn’t waver. She’d gotten angry and thrown it.
And for her own piece of mind she’d relegate it to happenstance. The ring had gotten damaged after a frightening experience, that was all. There was no more to the story than that. Although stories were the life blood of the Cliftons. Her father had been full of them. He shared riveting tales and harrowing adventures that he’d carried with him from Jamaica that were always ready on his lips. He had been an older man who’d settled into family domesticity later in life. But his specialty was the stories behind metals and gems that he told. He’d worked at the jewelry store most of his life and had apprenticed BJ.
She still remembered the story he’d told her when he’d given her the emerald ring as a gift on her twentieth birthday.
“This is how he’ll find you,” he’d said as they sat alone in the kitchen among the sweet scent of a half eaten chocolate cake sitting in the center of the round table, while the sound of laughter from her mother and two sisters drifted from the living room where they watched TV.
Michelle looked down at the bright green gem staring up at her, settled in a dark blue velvet ring box. “Who?”
“Your soul mate.”
Michelle sniffed. She’d grown beyond the tales he’d told them as children and college had given her an insight into a world she knew he would never understand. “I don’t believe in soul mates.”
He shrugged. “They exist whether you believe in them or not.”
“If he were a true soul mate he wouldn’t need this ring for me to find him.”
“For him to find you,” her father gently corrected.
Michelle sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“You think you’re so smart. And you are smart, but you’re not wise. You still have a lot to learn and not every man will be comfortable with your ability.”
“I can lie.”
“All your life?”
“If I have to.”
“No, it will weaken you. You must find someone who can handle your strength. This will also help you to channel your energy. Take your time to learn all its power.”
“Why was I born this way?”
“Because you were meant to be. You are what you are. Now put the ring on and stop asking silly questions.”
Michelle took the ring and slid it on her finger feeling both happy and sad at the same time, never realizing that in a year his prediction would come true.
That night, she remembered overhearing her parents in her father’s workshop in the basement. She’d gone to ask him a question but had paused when she’d heard her mother scold her father for Michelle’s birthday gift. “What if the others get jealous?” she’d said, her tone pointed with more clipped English tones than her father’s languid Caribbean replies. Her mother’s black British background was more strict and regulated than her father’s.
“Jessie doesn’t wear jewelry,” her father said, “and I gave Teresa a bracelet for a birthday that’s passed. I’m not playing favorites and my daughters know that.”
“It’s an expensive gift.”
Michelle heard her father’s chair squeak and she imagined him leaning back. “She’s worth it.”
“It may not work anyway,” her mother said with a sigh of regret.
“It will work.”
“You shouldn’t have told her about a soul mate. She’ll be disappointed when it doesn’t happen. I don’t believe in getting her hopes up. If she focuses on her studies and develops a career she can support herself and be there for her sisters.”
“She needs to have a life of her own.”
“We’re lucky to have lived as long as we have. It was a risk to have them so late in life and they’re still young. When we’re gone they’ll need her.”
Her father’s soft voice took on a hard, angry tone she’d rarely heard before. “She will not be sacrificed because we had them so late in life. We are fortunate to have had them at all.”
“Most families like ours have the one child who devotes their life to the unit. Michelle doesn’t need to get married. She has shown no sign of interest in what regular girls do.”
“Our girls aren’t regular.”
Her mother fell silent a moment before she said, “Michelle even more so. I knew it when I first held her. She had eyes that were so old.”
“An old soul that need not be lonely.”
“She’s named after my great-aunt who never married and had a wonderful life.”
Michelle heard her father’s chair squeak again and imagined him leaning forward. “Yes, but Teresa saw her wedding day.”
“We know Teresa may marry and she dreams about many things. She—”
“No,” her father said in an insistent voice. “She saw Michelle’s wedding day.”
Her mother fell silent. “More than once?”
“Yes. Four times.”
“How is that even possible?”
“Many things are possible which is why I gave her the ring. There is a man out there for her and if he is a strong talent too, she will need all her resources to keep their union strong.”
Her mother’s voice turned to one of awe and hope. “I pray we live to meet him.”
“Me too.”
To Michelle’s delight their wish had come true. They had been at her wedding—both loving James as much as she did—and it had been one of the most surprising and wonderful days of her life. But the ring hadn’t managed to keep everything from falling apart.
Chapter 4
She didn’t know why she was there. Jessie Clifton glanced at the clock in the crowded Rolland Café and sighed. She’d had plans to visit the Historic Society and listen to a lecture on Fabergé and the Russian Crafts Tradition before she took Alex to the park. Instead she’d had to apologize to the nanny and reschedule her day because of Teresa’s strange, but urgent phone call. Last night she’d been halfway up the stairs when her cell phone rang. She’d just returned from playing tennis with her friend, Wendy, and all she wanted to do was shower and change. “Would you mind if Michelle stayed at your house for a while?” Teresa asked her without preamble.
Jessie stopped walking, startled by the question. Even with a full nursery, a room for the nanny, Syrah’s room and Freda, the housekeeper, plus the master bedroom they still had plenty of space. “No, but Michelle would never—”
“I’m not asking you if she would, I’m asking you if that would be a problem.”
Jessie continued up the stairs at a slower pace, trying to process her sister’s question. “No, you know there’s enough room for a football team here and I don’t think Kenneth would mind.”
“Good. I need you to meet me at Rolland’s Café tomorrow at two.”
Unfortunately, Teresa had disconnected before Jessie could ask for more details. Rolland’s wasn’t a real café. Its chrome booths, large windows and red cushions gave the decor the appearance of easygoing elegance but its excellent food and talented wait staff made it a pricy option for most. As the wife of a successful CEO of a software company, money was no longer a concern, but, especially since it was one of her husband’s favorite places, eating there was still always a treat.
Except when it was unexpected. Jessie looked across the table at her eldest sister, Michelle, who looked just as impatient as Jessie felt. Her sister looked like the savvy business success she was, dressed in a severe dark blue suit her blunt chin length haircut emphasized her striking cheekbones giving her an elegance and class that took attention away from her pl
ain features. Jessie had pulled her own black hair back in a ponytail and wore black sneakers to match her dark jeans and peach top with only a pair of earrings her husband had bought her and light red lipstick to offset her own unremarkable features. They made an odd pair—Michelle always looking ready to close a deal or deposit a large cheque while Jessie looked like she was headed for a run or a walk along a bike trail.
Fortunately, they were too well-known by the people in the community for anyone to care.
Michelle scrolled through something on her cell phone. “Do you know what this is about?” she asked in what others would think was a cool, neutral tone, but Jessie knew was far from it. Michelle was annoyed.
“No,” Jessie said feeling her response wasn’t a complete lie. “Teresa only told me to meet her here.”
“I’ll give her ten more minutes then I have to be somewhere else.”
“She has to come from South Bank,” Jessie said mentioning the neighboring county to theirs, “that’s almost forty minutes away.”
Michelle shot her sister a glance lacking any sympathy. “Then she should have left sooner.”
Jessie felt her temper flare. “It sounded important.”
“She better not be pregnant,” Michelle grumbled then shook her head in regret when Jessie stared at her appalled. “That came out wrong. I mean I hope it’s something that she couldn’t have told us over the phone. I have something really important that I have to deal with right now.”
“Something more important than your family?”
Michelle flashed a thin smile. “Still so dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic, it’s an honest question.”
Michelle set down her phone. “Yes, there are some things more important than family.”
Jessie held her gaze. “Like what?”
Michelle clicked her tongue in sympathy. “Sometimes new mothers can be so blind. How is Alex?”
“He’s fine,” Jessie said through thin lips, pricked by her sister’s subtle insult.”What’s more important than family?”
“Survival.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It’s something you never have to worry about anymore.”
Jessie’s frown deepened. “You’re not making any sense.”
“No,” Michelle said slowly. “I’m making perfect sense. You just don’t understand what I’m saying.”
Jessie felt her head begin to throb. She hated when her sister got into her superior, condescending moods. She opened her mouth to offer a cutting reply then noticed something odd about Michelle’s hand. “Wait. Where’s your ring?”
Michelle covered her hand, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m getting it cleaned.”
Jessie looked at her with doubt. “Really? You’ve never gotten it cleaned before.”
“I’m here. I’m here. I’m here,” Teresa said, rushing over to the table with the perfect timing of a middle child who had defused many battles between her two passionate siblings. Although her features were as equally plain as the others, she had gentle eyes and a soft round face that matched her full figure.
She flopped, breathless, in a chair beside Jessie, her bracelets clinging together. She was not used to running and it showed. Aside from her heavy breathing, her bright orange peasant blouse was damp with sweat. “I’m sorry,” she said between breaths. “I…got stuck…behind a tractor…and couldn’t overtake it. And then I couldn’t find parking…”
“It’s okay,” Jessie said quickly when Michelle opened her mouth. “Drink something and take your time. We’re not in a rush.” She hid a grin when she saw Michelle’s eyes narrow.
“Thanks,” Teresa grabbed the glass of water in front of her and took a long gulp before setting it back down. She took a deep breath. “I needed that.”
“Why are we all here?” Michelle said ready to get down to business.
“I want you to sell the family house and come live with one of us,” Teresa said.
Michelle’s gaze shifted from one sister to the other. “Am I supposed to start laughing now?”
“No.”
“Why would I do that?” she said after a tense silence.
“Because a monster is coming to get you.”
Jessie looked at Teresa startled. “You didn’t tell me that.” She turned to Michelle, waving her hands. “She didn’t tell me she was going to say that. I had no idea.” She held up her right hand as if ready to make a vow. “I swear.”
Michelle sipped her lemonade before she said with a slight grin, “I believe you.”
“I’m serious,” Teresa said. “I’m not making this up.”
Michelle nodded. “I can deal with monsters.”
“Not something like this. I saw a monster in my dream.”
“Nightmares can be—”
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Teresa shot back. “I saw a dark black bird with wide wings and red eyes.”
“Ol’ Hige,” Michelle said unconcerned, referring to a witch known to shed her skin and flies about at night, sucking out people’s breaths while they slept.
“No, she comes in the form of an owl or a cat.”
“In Dad’s story she was always an owl,” Jessie said, thinking of the many folktales about the mythical creature. “I used to sleep with salt near my bed for years.” It was said the witch was vulnerable to salt.
Teresa shook her head. “You’re not listening to me.”
Michelle rested her chin in her hand, bored. “You really expect me to uproot my life because you had a strange vision?”
Teresa nodded.
Michelle sat back and folded her arms. “Fine. Can you tell me what this monster vision means?”
Teresa sighed. “Not yet, but I’m going to talk to Bertha and—”
“You should have spoken to Bertha first.” Michelle grabbed her handbag ready to leave. “Instead of wasting all of our time.”
“Don’t be mean,” Jessie said, seeing Teresa’s face fall. “She is really worried about you.”
Michelle held her arms out to the side. “As you can see I’m fine.” She looked at her outstretched arms and grinned. “For all you know perhaps I’m the dark bird.”
Teresa frowned. “You’re not a monster.”
“Usually,” Jessie said under her breath.
Teresa nudged her.
Michelle slid out of her seat. “When you have more perhaps I’ll listen then.”
“You will listen,” Teresa said in a fierce tone.
“Monsters aside,” Jessie said, seeing the outrage on Michelle’s face. Her sister didn’t like being told what to do. “Teresa has a point. Isn’t the house a lot to maintain? We have plenty of space and—”
Michelle made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I’m fine where I am.”
Teresa’s eyes widened and she grabbed Michelle’s hand. “You’re not fine. Where’s your ring?”
Michelle quickly glanced around then shot her a look. She slid back into the booth and said in a harsh whisper, “Will you lower your voice?”
Teresa tugged on her sister’s hand. “Where is it?”
“She’s getting it cleaned,” Jessie said sounding unconvinced.
Teresa looked at Michelle, her expression just as full of doubt. “I won’t let you fight this alone.”
Michelle snatched her hand away. “There is nothing to fight. There are no monsters.”
“And the ring?”
“I’ll get it back soon. Now, if we’re finished—”
“Tell us what happened,” Teresa said in an urgent whisper. “This is not the time for secrets.”
Michelle rubbed the bridge of her nose. “There’s nothing to tell. The ring—”
“What happened between you and James?”
Michelle tilted her head to the side. “I thought we were talking about monsters.”
“Maybe we are.”
Michelle lifted her glass then set it back down, agitated. “Why are you changing the subject?”
“Are we going to order anything?” Jessie asked.
“You can,” Michelle said. “I’m not staying.” She lifted her lemonade and finished it in one long swallow. “I’ll see you later.”
“It’s connected, isn’t it?” Teresa said.
Jessie motioned to a waiter. “Could we get some stuffed mushrooms and another lemonade without ice?” She looked at Michelle’s empty glass. “You’re still thirsty, right?”
Michelle’s tone hardened. “I’m not staying.”
“Please tell us,” Teresa said.
“Yes, another lemonade,” Jessie said to the waiter who nodded then left.
“They’re connected,” Teresa said satisfied.
Michelle gripped the empty, cold lemonade glass to keep her hand from shaking. “You’re wrong. It was a simple ordinary mistake. James and I were—are not compatible.”
“Then why not get a divorce?”
“Too busy.” She stood. “If that’s all, I have to go.”
“Michelle—”
She left.
Teresa watched her go with regret. “Maybe I shouldn’t have—Ow!” Teresa said when Jessie hit her in the arm.
Jessie glared at her. “What is wrong with you? Monsters? Really?”
Teresa rubbed her arm and said in a small voice, “I didn’t know how else to describe what I saw.”
“And James?” Jessie gazed up at the ceiling exasperated. “Why did you have to bring James up too?” She looked at Teresa perplexed. “You know that’s a sore spot.”
Teresa bit her lip feeling contrite. “I know, but…how much do we know about him?”
“Why are you thinking about him all of a sudden?”
Teresa threw up her hands. “I don’t know. That’s the trouble. Nothing makes sense yet but he came to my mind for a reason and I can’t ignore it.”
The stuffed mushrooms arrived with the lemonade. Jessie reached for it while Teresa eyed one of the mushrooms. She reached for one close to her then stopped.
“What’s wrong?”Jessie asked her.
Teresa frowned. “I just realized that I never touched him.”
