“Not this time. It’s a big house and I wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you.” Finn knew it was a flimsy excuse but it was all he had.
“I don’t have to pick up nails; I could just hang out in the gazebo again with Lola.” Her tone turned pleading. “Is Miss Gustavia there every day? Do you get to talk to her?”
“She comes and goes, but not every day.” That much was true but his next answer was a total lie. ”We don’t talk when she is there; I don’t think she likes me very much.”
“Daddy, she has to like you if she is going to be my new mommy.”
“Oh honey, that just isn’t going to happen.”
“Yesm it is,” She shouted. “She is going to be my mommy, and you better not mess it up. She has to. It’s what my first mommy wants. If she can’t be with me, she wants me to have a mommy who can. And she wouldn’t want us to always be alone and you know it. She would want us to be happy; she wasn’t mean like you.” Sam stormed out of the room. A few moments later, Finn heard the sound of water splashing into the tub.
Her words cut him to the bone. Samantha was absolutely right. Lila wouldn’t have left her family by choice, and he knew without a sliver of doubt that his wife would kick his ass if she knew he’d let fear overwhelm him so badly that he wasn’t listening to his heart.
The grocery store.
Just a short trip, not even a five-minute drive. That’s where Lila was going that day.
Preoccupied with the estimate he was working on, he’d barely kissed her goodbye. After they reconstructed the accident, police said the old man had suffered a heart attack right before he hit her car broadside. In the throes of his own death, his foot had jammed hard on the accelerator, causing the car to gain speed coming into the intersection. Just a freak moment in time, and she was gone with no one left alive to blame.
After her bath, Sam’s attitude had not improved. She was still sullen so Finn read her a short story and turned off the light.
In the morning, Sam didn’t ask to go to Hayward House. When she came downstairs, he noticed she’d clumsily attempted to braid several toys into her hair. She didn’t speak to him. This time her silence was accompanied by glowering stares which went ignored. He’d let it go because he was running late, but mostly because he had no idea how to handle the situation.
He missed his wife.
***
Sneaking out of Mrs. Millen’s house was easy. All she had to do was ask to walk to the corner market. Instead, she kept going until she found Miss Gustavia’s house and rang the bell. When she heard barking from inside, she smiled with delight. Another dog to play with; this one sounded smaller than Lola.
Looking through the peephole, Gustavia saw Sam shifting from one foot to the other impatiently, her face a study of conflicting emotions.
About ten different options ran through Gustavia’s mind in a blur. She should call Finn; there was no way he knew about this. She ran a hand through her hair, worn straight today. She was still getting used to the silky smooth texture after years of waves from braids. Keeping the girl waiting wasn’t solving the problem so she opened the door.
“Miss Gustavia. You changed your hair. What happened to your braids?” Once she started talking, Sam couldn’t seem to stop. “I—uh—I wanted to see you, so I walked over here from Mrs. Millen’s house. She only lives five blocks away, and it didn’t take long.”
“I can see that. Does anyone know you’re here? Mrs. Millen? Your dad?”
“Well, no.” Sam shuffled her feet. Maybe Miss Gustavia wasn’t as cool as she thought. Not if she was going to rat her out first thing. And that look on her face. Not very welcoming.
“We need to call them. If you’ve been missed, they’re both going to be frantic.”
“Are you angry with me?” Now Sam was worried.
“No, I’m not angry; but I know your dad is going to be upset with me.” She pulled out her phone, and dreading his reaction, punched in Finn’s number.
“Yeah,” he answered abruptly.
“Finn, we have a situation here. Sam’s come to visit mem and it appears she left without Mrs. Millen’s knowledge.”
“I’ll be right there. I’ll call Mrs. Millen, let her know what happened.” The headache hit him instantly, probably a result of the blood pressure spike her call had inspired. Sam’s timing couldn’t have been worse, the last person he wanted to see right now was Gustavia. Seeing her was so much harder than talking to her on the phone.
Top priority? Get more male friends; there were entirely too many women in his life at the moment. Each one a bigger trial than the next.
“Okay, your dad’s on the way. In the meantime, would you like to meet Fritzie?”
“Your dog? Oh, yes. I love dogs.”
Gustavia opened the patio doors; she’d stashed Fritzie outside before answering the front door in case he rushed the little girl. He always became excited at the idea of meeting new people. Fritzie bolted inside, but he wasn’t alone. Estelle followed him into the room chuckling at the identical looks of surprise she received. From her favorite spot on the roof of the gazebo at Hayward House, she’d seen Finn stomp his way down the ladder and peel out of the driveway, face set in lines of anger and worry.
Because she could feel the waves of emotion rising from him, she’d peeked. His mind was awash with a mix of annoyance, uncertainty and sorrow all aimed at Gustavia.
“Young lady, what were you thinking?” Sam’s head bowed in shame at Estelle’s question. It finally occurred to her that she might have made a big mistake. All she wanted to do was see Miss Gustavia again, not stir up trouble. Tears of consternation began to slide down her face.
How was she ever going to deserve a new mommy if she kept getting into trouble?
“I just wanted to see Miss Gustavia, and Daddy wouldn’t take me to the job like he usually does. He’s been all moody, and it wasn’t fair. I always get to work with him in the summer. Now I’m stuck with Mrs. Millen. She’s nice enough, but I wanted to see Lola and do the nail runs.” Sam’s voice rose with each sentence until she ended on a wail.
Unable to see anyone in pain without trying to help, Gustavia enfolded the miserable girl in a consoling hug and distracted her by asking how her dad ended up teaching cake decorating classes.
The ploy worked. Gustavia’s question brought back Sam’s smile as she explained that Finn considered cake art an exercise in architecture.
“But don’t tell anyone; he really does like to make whimsical cakes.”
By the time they heard the slam of his truck door outside, everyone was calmer.
Telling Sam to stay with Fritzie, Gustavia hurried out the door, closing it behind her and met Finn as he was coming up the walkway. He was angry—furious in fact—and understandably so. Still, if they were going to fight, there was no need to do it in front of Sam. The girl was scared enough already.
“You don’t want to intrude here, Gustavia. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’ve no intention of getting in the middle of your family dynamic, but I thought you should know exactly what it is that you are walking into.”
“How did you get her to do this?” He didn’t see the narrowing of her eyes, the steel that shot Gustavia’s spine ramrod stiff and continued on. “Have you been speaking to her behind my back?” He would have continued moving toward the door, but, instead, came up against a wall of very angry Gustavia when she stepped in front of him and drilled a finger into his chest.
It hurt.
“You’ve been exceptionally rude; and I’ve let it go out of some misguided sense of sympathy, but I’ve reached my limit. No, that’s not true. I passed my limit with you already. I’m over it.” He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she poked him again, hard enough that he took a step back. Where were the rainbows and sweetness now?
He opened his mouth to speak again but, before he could utter a word, she poked him a third time.
“I let you get me twisted, turned around. That stop
s now.” His chest was getting sore from the poking.
“Your daughter came to me on her own. I haven’t seen or spoken to her. You made it clear that you didn’t appreciate my influence, that I wasn’t good enough to spend time with her. So I respected your wishes even when I could see that she is crying out for female attention.”
She had him backed up nearly to the street now. “You don’t have to like me. You don’t have to respect me. Your choice, entirely. Whatever. But you will not come to my home, and accuse me of corrupting your daughter. I saw the braids; I know that’s next on your laundry list of complaints which, quite frankly, I don’t want to hear so don’t even start.”
There was silence while he continued to process the situation that brought him here. Chest heaving, she waited for him to say something. Instead, he pulled her to him and kissed the breath out of her. By the time he was done, she was pliant, melting in his arms. Then he let her go, strode to the door and went inside to deal with his daughter leaving Gustavia staring after him more confused than ever.
When she realized her mouth was hanging open, she shut it with a snap and refused to give in to the impulse to stomp her way into the house and repeat the kiss.
Crazy man.
Ten minutes later, Finn, accompanied by a grim-faced, very subdued Samantha, walked out the door and made his way toward his truck.
Gustavia watched impassively, but did not approach the pair of them as Finn settled his daughter in the seat. He cast her one enigmatic look before driving away.
Oooh, that man. He got on her last nerve.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to kill him, which was where she’d been since the day she’d met Finn, Gustavia glared daggers at the truck’s disappearing taillights.
Turning, she trudged into the house, hands balled into fists, teeth clenched. She took one look at Estelle, who was still very much in evidence, and chanted.
“I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.”
Estelle said nothing, just looked at Gustavia with one eyebrow raised skeptically.
Then on a whisper, Gustavia finally admitted, “Oh Goddess, I think I might love him.”
She felt it this time, when her aura went dark. It was all she could do to fire off a short text to Amethyst.
Hope you’re free. Need you now. On my way —Gustavia
Without waiting for a reply, without even resetting the house alarm, she drove out of town and up the hill to find comfort and healing.
***
Abject misery set in as Gustavia lurched into the pillows strewn across the meditation area. Hunched over, she huddled there, pain evident in her demeanor. Amethyst helplessly watched the other woman’s aura as the normally bright colors swirled and seethed in a heavy, mud-colored mass half its usual size. She’d only seen this type of phenomenon a couple times before and knew that, while she could provide guidance, it might not be in her power to intervene. Still, she would do what she could.
Kneeling beside Gustavia, Amethyst hesitantly reached into the teeming mass of darkness and began the process of flicking away the blackest spots. Usually this had the effect of replacing darker areas with light, but this time the darkness was too dense. The blackness did not come away, as it usually did, and felt almost sticky in her hand. In fact, instead of being returned to the universe, the blackness began to expand and reach out for her.
Backing away, she now realized she was frightened. Something was deeply wrong. Something that might be a bigger problem than Gustavia’s current mood. It was time to call in some help; she wasn’t up to dealing with the situation on her own.
Amethyst grabbed her cell phone and called Mishka. “It’s Gustavia. Can you come?” Her voice was grave and Mishka quickly understood that something was terribly wrong.
“Ten minutes.” Amethyst ended the call and began pulling the things she thought Mishka might need from her cupboards. Crystals, candles and sage to start. Amethyst, when pressed to describe her faith, considered herself a spiritual eclectic. Raised by church-going people, she’d always believed in a higher power; but also felt that there was more; that one’s faith should be inclusive, that there was something of the feminine missing from the picture. Seeing auras had not made her popular. At school or at church.
Everything as ready as she could make it, she reached for her phone again. Kat and Julie got the same text:
My house. Gustavia, code red.—Amethyst
Julie swung by Kat’s place. On the way, they tried to prepare themselves for what a code red might involve. Whatever it was, they knew it couldn’t be good.
Mishka slammed through the door several minutes later. She circled the prone woman several times before saying, “It’s weighing on her. All of it. Her past, her family, whatever happened today, everything. I’m not sure what we can do to help if she’s decided to wallow in the darkness. It’s her choice. Didn’t know she was such a wimp, though.”
Gustavia, deeply mired in self-pity, heard these words. They did exactly what Mishka had hoped; they pissed her off.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. And don’t call me a wimp.”
“Well, what would you prefer? A wuss? A weeny? A coward?”
Gustavia came off the floor like a rocket. That last jab had hit her hard. “A coward? Is that what you think of me?” What had she done to deserve this? It was the second time someone had thrown that word at her.
“No, but it’s your choice whether or not to spend time in the dark, feeling sorry for yourself.”
“If I don’t, who will?” Gustavia mumbled.
“You want pity? What’s the point in that? We all have our stories, but pity doesn’t solve anything. Your parents get pissy or some guy doesn’t fall at your feet and your solution is to go to the freaky dark side?”
It was working; her aura was lightening, colors returning, expanding. Amethyst glanced over at Mishka who, with a twinkle in her eye, turned her face away just enough so Gustavia wouldn’t see and winked. Instead of a ritual of some kind, she’d recognized that anger and a good ass-kicking would burn away the fog and provide some clarity. So she goaded her friend into a fine state of annoyance.
Annoyance didn’t begin to cover it. Gustavia flashed right on past that stage and hit rage dead on. Face flushed, eyes firing like twin lasers, she ranted. She paced. She stalked; and she purged while Mishka and Amethyst watched and listened.
Kat and Julie came in about halfway through the litany, slid into seats as unobtrusively as possible, and waited it out
Everything came out; the indifference of her parents, the fear and anger she felt while living with her grandmother, the never knowing why she’d been sent away. The struggle for acceptance that never came, and the way the conflict with Finn brought it all back to the surface. She ranted about the way he threw her off balance by appearing indifferent then kissing the breath out of her. It shouldn’t be this complicated. Every time she spoke his name, she scrunched her nose in disgust or sighed like a lovesick teenager.
She talked about Zack and how great it felt that they were getting closer, and how unexpected it had been to meet Valerie.
Eventually, she ran down like an overused battery, lapsing into a silence punctuated by a series of deep breaths. No more tears, no more angst as a cloak of quiet, calm peace settled over her.
Mishka was the first to speak; her tone intentionally light-hearted, if not slightly sarcastic, “Feel better now?”
“Matter of fact, I do.” Gustavia slumped back down on the pillows, a wry smile on her face.
Watching, Amethyst thought she’d never seen an aura go through that type of transformation. Swirling darkness had gathered, swelled, and finally just drained out of her and into the earth as Gustavia released the anger, pain, and fear.
The situation had not changed. She was still embroiled in several trying relationships, still in the crosshairs of a madman, and still picking her way through the minefield of confronting an alteri
ng self-image. But none of that could touch her; Gustavia was back; centered and strong.
Goddess help Finn. And anyone else who got in her way.
***
He called three times that night before she decided to answer; and, when she did, she didn’t speak.
“Are you there? Never mind, I can hear you thinking,” he spoke into the silence. “That’s fine. I need to talk anyway so maybe it’s best if you just listen.”
Gustavia waited, full of curiosity to hear what he had to say.
“I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t your doing—Sam running away. I blew up before I had all the facts and dumped my family junk all over you. It wasn’t fair. It took me by surprise. Not the idea my daughter might need something more than I can give her—I’ve always known that—I had no idea she would search for more on her own, though.“
Gustavia moved the phone from her left ear to her right. This was getting interesting.
He admitted, “Sam came to you because she knows you care for her. How do you do that? Love someone without being afraid? I watched it happen that first day when we had lunch. You just fell for her and that was it. No questioning, no worrying, just love. It’s remarkable.”
His words surprised her. Still, she waited.
“Are you still there? I hope you are.” There was a pause, then he said, “True confession. I walked into a glass door at the mall once, knocked me right on my ass in front of everyone. I’m pretty sure my head bounced off it at least twice.”
He assumed she’d forgiven him or he’d bared all of his soul that he could afford for one night. She let him off the hook.
“I’m addicted to the winter Olympics because it has become a necessity to watch curling at least once.”
“Curling?” He repeated.
“It’s fascinating. Kind of like shuffleboard for janitors. I make up stories about how it was invented.”
“I tasted paste when I was in school. It was minty.”
“I know; surprised me, too.”
Bells On Her Toes (The Psychic Seasons Series Book 2) Page 15
