The Color of a Silver Lining

by Julianne MacLean

  “Okay…” He regarded me uneasily.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to talk about it right then, I guess. But now I need to tell you what’s happening.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I reached for his hand. “Carter texted me today while I was at work. He said he wanted to talk to me about what’s going on with the girl who went to heaven. I guess it’s been on his mind, too.”

  Luke’s eyebrows lifted. “So, that’s where you were after work? With Carter? There was no computer glitch?”

  I sensed immediately that he was hurt, which was the last thing I wanted, and I felt terrible for not telling him the truth. “Yes. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. I should have.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Now I felt even worse. “I don’t know… The whole thing was just horribly unpleasant. I haven’t seen Carter since we signed the divorce papers, and it was just as awkward and uncomfortable as you could imagine. When I got home to you, I didn’t want to think about it or talk about it. I wanted to forget it.”

  Luke seemed to relax slightly at that. He wove his fingers through mine. “What happened? Why did he want to see you?”

  I dropped my gaze to our entwined hands. “He wanted to tell me about a dream he had about Sammy, which he wasn’t even sure was a dream. He said he woke up one night to the sound of his bedroom door opening, and Sammy was standing there, staring at him. Carter was really freaked out by it, and all this stuff about that little girl going to heaven is making him think.”

  “Same as you,” Luke replied, and I nodded.

  “But that’s not all,” I added. “Carter also told me he’d been considering seeing a psychic about it, to find out if Sammy was trying to communicate with him about something.”

  Luke regarded me warily. “That’s why you brought up psychics earlier.”

  “Yes. And then he texted me while you were out with the dogs to ask if I wanted to go with him to see a psychic in Vancouver. He made an appointment, and it’s tomorrow night.”

  “Jeez.” Luke raked his fingers through his hair. “What did you say? You’re not going to go with him, are you?”

  I hesitated. “I don’t know. I’m thinking about it.”

  His head drew back. “I’m trying to be understanding about this, Emma, but I don’t like it.”

  “Why? Is it because I’m talking to Carter? Or do you think it’s crazy to see a psychic?”

  He let out a breath. “I don’t know if it’s crazy or not. But if you want to go and see someone like that, I’ll go with you. You don’t need to go with Carter.”

  “But…” I paused, and decided I had to speak my mind. “Carter was Sammy’s father. It makes more sense for us to go together.”

  Luke frowned at me with disbelief. “But he treated you terribly. I don’t want to see that happen to you again. I don’t want you to feel demoralized and guilt-ridden. You don’t deserve that, Emma. You’ve come so far. Just let him go on his own. If he had a bad dream about Sammy and wants help figuring it out, that’s his issue, not yours. You don’t owe him anything. He was a jerk to you.”

  I gazed down at my hands in my lap. “Actually, he apologized to me about…all of that.”

  Luke stared at me through a sudden ringing silence. “So…what? Now you’re best friends?”

  “No, of course not.”

  When I said nothing more, Luke tossed the covers aside and got out of bed.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere. Just downstairs. I need a glass of water.”

  He left the room and the dogs followed.

  I sat there in the silence, wishing I’d handled this better. If he was angry with me, I couldn’t blame him. I’d lied to him today about meeting with my ex-husband. It was a mistake to say I had to work late.

  Sliding out of bed, I donned my robe and padded downstairs where I found Luke in the kitchen, filling a glass at the sink.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, standing behind him, hugging him, sliding my hands up his bare chest. “I should have told you where I was today. I just didn’t want to talk about it because the whole thing was just…icky. I wanted to forget about it.”

  Luke turned around to face me. “How was it icky? You just said he apologized to you.”

  Sensing his displeasure, I lowered my hands to my side and stepped back. “He did, but it was too little, too late. I didn’t want to stick around after that. If you had been there, you would have seen me walk away from him.”

  Luke stared at me for a long moment, then he stepped forward and gently pulled me into his arms. My body flooded with relief.

  Neither of us spoke, and I hoped this meant he forgave me for not telling him the truth earlier.

  When he drew back, he said, “I just don’t want you to get hurt. And I don’t want to lose what we have here, Emma. We’re moving on together, and I’m happy about the future. I don’t want him dragging you back there or…trying to steal you back.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not something you have to worry about. He’s not trying to get me back. First of all, he’s with someone else now, and even if he wasn’t, I’m engaged to you. He just…” I let out a breath, because I wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence.

  “He what?” Luke pressed.

  It took me a moment to articulate my thoughts. “Maybe, because he’s been blaming me all this time, he never got past the anger stage. Now he’s actually grieving and he doesn’t know how to handle it.”

  Luke took my face in his hand, stroked my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I don’t mean to sound cruel, but it’s not your job to help Carter, because he certainly didn’t help you.”

  I cupped his hand in mine and nodded. “I know that. But I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing it for me, because if Sammy is in heaven, I sure would love some proof of that. It would help me to know that he’s okay and safe and happy. Maybe it would give me a sense of peace.”

  Luke pulled me into his arms again. “I want that for you, Emma. I really do, but I don’t know if peace is ever possible when you’ve lost a child.”

  His words caused a swell of sadness in me because I knew he was right. I’d never stop missing my beautiful son. Not in this lifetime.

  “Maybe not,” I replied, “but I still need to do this. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder what if.”

  Those were Carter’s words, not mine, but they applied to me, too.

  When Luke and I got back into bed, I told him when the appointment was. Thankfully, he accepted my decision to go, told me he loved me, and assured me that he trusted me.

  * * *

  I took the afternoon off from work, and Carter offered to pick me up at my apartment so that we could drive to Vancouver together. But I hadn’t been living at my apartment for months. Luke urged me to have Carter pick me up in Oak Bay and admitted he wanted Carter to see with his own eyes that we were together. To know that Luke’s home was my home now, and that this was where he could expect to find me from this day forward.

  “He needs to know you’re mine now,” Luke said, holding me in his arms at the door while I waited for Carter to arrive.

  When he finally pulled up, Luke walked me out and down the steps to the driveway.

  Carter shut off his car and got out. With his typical manly swagger, he circled around the front, put his hands on his hips, and looked up at the house. “Wow. This is quite the place you’ve got here. I’m Carter.”

  He strode forward to shake Luke’s hand and I realized I was holding my breath as I watched the exchange.

  They shook hands. “I’m Luke. Nice to meet you.”

  They stepped apart, said nothing more, and it became instantly uncomfortable.

  Carter turned to me. “We should probably get on the road.”

  “Yeah, for sure,” I replied, trying to act casual as I opened the car door and climbed into the passenger seat.

  Carter got in and started up the engine. �
��That wasn’t awkward at all,” he said, giving me a look as he turned the car around.

  “At least you were civil,” I replied, waving to Luke as we drove off.

  “Me? I’m always civil.”

  “Sure you are,” I replied, thinking of the many times he walked up to a guy in a bar who’d looked at me the wrong way and suggested the other guy leave before someone got hurt.

  Yes, my ex-husband was territorial. But he’d lost that right the day he asked me to leave.

  * * *

  Carter and I chatted politely during the drive to the ferry. I asked about his landscaping business, and he updated me on his new equipment and other developments. He asked after my mom and my job. I asked about his parents and his sisters and Melissa. It was typical small talk.

  After we boarded the ferry, which was a ninety-minute ride to the Tsawwassen Terminal on the mainland, we grabbed a bite to eat at the buffet. Mostly, we sat in silence, except for when we discussed a high school friend who had been injured in a cycling accident recently and was in rehab with a brain injury.

  When we got back into the car for the final leg of the journey, Carter found a country music station on the radio, but switched to a rock station when they played one of our songs. We drove in silence after that, until I had to help Carter navigate to reach our destination.

  * * *

  When we pulled up in front of the psychic’s home and place of business, I had a bad feeling—but not because it was a sketchy neighborhood. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Neither of us could believe what we were looking at—a multimillion-dollar waterfront estate made of steel and glass, with ultra-modern sculptures in the yard, in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in BC.

  “It’s not quite what I imagined,” Carter said, peering at the upper stories with curved rooflines. “It looks like a space ship.”

  “Tell me about it. I was picturing a crappy little apartment somewhere downtown where we had to pass through a curtain of hanging beads. Wasn’t that what the picture showed on the website? A psychic woman in a turban? Wasn’t there a lava lamp vibe?”

  Carter nodded. “Yeah. This is kind of disturbing.”

  I glanced up and down the street. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

  He checked his phone. “Yes. This is the address she gave me. Come on. Let’s ring the doorbell.”

  I followed him along the flagstone walk to the front door, but there was a polished brass plaque that said:

  WRONG DOOR

  For Psychic Readings: Please Use Side Door

  Below this, a long, boney finger pointed to the left, so we tramped down the flagstone steps, around the side of the house, down another flight of steps bordered by a tall cedar hedge, finally arriving at a basement entrance that looked like something out of a Walt Disney World theme park. The arched door was covered with a plastic substance that resembled tree bark. The trim was cloaked in ivy.

  “It looks like a Hobbit house in Middle-earth,” Carter whispered as he stepped forward to rap with the wrought iron door knocker. “It’s not exactly consistent with the upstairs décor.”

  “Maybe this is a waste of time,” I said, grabbing hold of his arm before he had a chance to knock.

  He met my gaze squarely. “We came all this way. We might as well see it through.”

  Exhaling a deep breath, I lowered my hand to my side and waited uneasily for someone to answer.

  The door creaked open and the woman from the website greeted us with a beaming smile. She looked to be about sixty and wore heavy eye makeup, gaudy dangling earrings, and a turquoise turban that clashed with her mauve kimono. “Welcome. You must be Carter and Emma. Please come in.”

  She led us to a waiting room decorated with every cliché in the book on psychics. On the walls were framed images of Tarot cards, crystal balls, and unknown galaxies with floating spirits. What surprised me most was how crowded the waiting room was.

  We took a seat on a red velvet sofa, and the woman said, “I’ll come and get you when Maria’s ready for you.”

  “Oh,” I said. “You’re not Maria?”

  She laughed. “Oh, good gracious, no. I’m Nell, her receptionist. Would you like a cup of coffee or herbal tea? We have cappuccino as well.”

  Carter cleared his throat. “None for me, thanks.”

  “Me neither.”

  Nell smiled. “Well, let me know if you change your mind. And FYI—she’s running a little behind today. Just fifteen minutes or so. Please make yourselves comfortable. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  Nell left the room.

  I discreetly glanced around at the other clients waiting to see Maria. They were all women, sitting alone, except for one older couple in their seventies.

  I leaned close to whisper in Carter’s ear. “How much are you paying for this?”

  He replied in a hushed voice. “Five hundred bucks. No refund policy.”

  My stomach did a somersault. “Seriously? Five hundred dollars for fifteen minutes?” I began to work through the math in my head. “If she works eight hours a day, like the rest of us, that’s sixteen-thousand dollars each and every day.”

  Carter pulled out his cell phone and used his calculator. He whispered in my ear. “Assuming four weeks of vacation, that’s close to four million a year.”

  I whistled. “No wonder she can afford to live in a space ship.”

  All this made me think of my conversation with Luke the night before, when he’d used the word con artist. I didn’t want to assume that Maria was a scammer, but even if she was the real deal, how was it possible that she could talk to people in heaven every fifteen minutes, day after day, week after week? Did she have the hereafter on speed dial? And wouldn’t she find it taxing on her brain?

  Everything about this felt shady to me. But I had to hand it to her. No matter which way you sliced it, she was a shrewd business woman.

  While Carter and I waited, I picked up a magazine from the coffee table. There were plenty of choices—decorating magazines, dog magazines, gossip tabloids. There was even a monster truck publication.

  With every minute that passed while I flipped through House and Home, I grew less confident that this was a worthwhile use of our time and Carter’s hard-earned cash. I promised myself that I would remain skeptical, but at the same time, I would try and keep an open mind, no matter what she said to us.

  Chapter Nine

  Emma

  “Carter? Emma? Maria’s ready for you now.”

  We rose from the sofa and followed Nell down a short hallway. She knocked on the door at the end, pushed it open, and gestured for us to pass through.

  As I entered Maria’s consultation area, I realized nothing was as I expected. I thought we’d pass through the curtain of beads into something resembling the inside of a genie’s bottle, but this room was modern and massive with twenty-foot ceilings and an entire wall of windows that overlooked the water. The floors were shiny black marble and there were three sleek white leather sofas positioned in the shape of a U, facing a gigantic onyx fireplace. Beyond that, Maria’s desk was made of glass.

  She was seated in a white chair, typing something into her computer. There could be no denying that she was a breathtakingly beautiful woman. She had long, straight, honey colored hair and wore white slacks, a white blouse, white pumps, and an expensive looking Wedgewood-blue silk scarf.

  She glanced up and smiled. Her eyes were a striking shade of light blue, and she had the irresistible charm of Jennifer Aniston as she spoke in a friendly tone. “Hi. Come on in. I’ll just be one second.”

  Nell directed us to the leather sofas in front of the fireplace and offered us coffee again. “No thanks,” Carter replied.

  As soon as Nell was gone, he and I exchanged a look, communicating the same thing—that this was not what we’d expected.

  Maria finished what she was doing and rose from her desk. “You must be Carter and Emma. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He and I
stood up at the same time. Carter held out his hand to shake Maria’s as she approached, but she drew back slightly, as if she were afraid of getting burned.

  “If you don’t mind,” she said, “we’ll need to hold off touching hands for a few minutes.”

  “I see,” Carter replied. “My bad.”

  Maria sat down across from us. “No problem. Is this your first time seeing a psychic?”

  “Is it that obvious?” Carter replied with a laugh as he sat down.

  I wondered if he was as captivated by Maria as I was. I don’t think I’d ever been in the presence of anyone so charismatic before.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “But you both look a little uneasy. Sometimes I wonder if I should have let Nell go wild with the décor in the waiting room. All that was her idea because she thought it would make clients feel more comfortable—that it would be more in line with their expectations and would look good on the website—but every time a new client walks in here from the waiting room, they do a double take.” She glanced toward the door. “I’ll probably redecorate out there soon, make it more consistent with the rest of the house.”

  Carter looked around at the modern furnishings. “This all looks great.”

  Maria laid her hands flat on her thighs. “Thank you. But enough chatter about interior design. Here’s what’s going to happen and it shouldn’t take too long. We’ll go sit over at that table in the corner and take hold of each other’s hands. Don’t worry, there’s a bottle of hand sanitizer at the ready.”

  Carter laughed, and I knew he was charmed.

  “Then,” she continued, “I’ll wait for a message from someone. And don’t tell me who it is that you want to hear from. It’s best if we figure it out together. But I need to warn you, there’s no guarantee you’ll hear from the person you want to talk to. They might simply not be available. Or they might not want to talk to you. And don’t be offended if that happens. Sometimes they just want everyone to move on. I can’t control that.”