Touchstone

by Karen Stivali

  She side-eyed me and pointed to one of the barstools at the end of the counter. I sat and tried not to laugh as she maneuvered herself onto the other stool. “Whatever sarcastic shit you’re thinking of saying, don’t. I’m pregnant and have no tolerance.”

  Snort. I guessed she’d been pregnant most of her life, because she’d never tolerated my wise-assery well.

  “I’m waiting…” Her perfectly manicured nails ticked impatiently on the countertop.

  “Fine.” I took a deep breath. “I have no idea how Sam feels. I told him about the job offer. He told me I owed it to myself to come to New York and take a look. And here I am.”

  “And…”

  “And nothing. He didn’t offer an opinion or ask me to stay or anything else.”

  She considered that with a nod. “What about you? What did you say?”

  “I just gave him the facts. That this guy wanted me to head up his hip new revenge project and that it was a dream job.”

  “You called it that?”

  “Yeah.”

  She stared at me like I’d grown a cactus out of my forehead. “You said the words ‘dream job’?”

  “Yes.”

  She held up a hand and shook her head.

  “What?”

  “From day one everything you told me about this man showed how sensitive and caring he is, how he looks out for you, how he’s attentive to your needs. You told him this was your dream job. Of course he didn’t stand in your way.”

  “Or maybe he just thinks we were a summer fling, and he’s okay with me leaving.”

  Ellie’s hand dropped onto the countertop so hard her rings clanged on the granite. Granite. Like the slabs out behind Crystal Persuasion. “Girl, you cannot be this stupid.”

  “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself. The man is in love with you, is he not?”

  I stared at my lap. “I guess.”

  “Oh, you guess, do you? Has he said he loves you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And have you said you love him?”

  “Yes.” I whispered the word, then glanced up at Ellie.

  “Have you ever said those three words to anyone else you dated?”

  I shook my head.

  “Did you mean them when you said them to Sam?”

  I nodded, my chest tight and heavy. My gaze landed on the postcard tacked to Ellie’s fridge. Vermont, it said in all caps across the fall-foliage picture. Oh god. Was there anything, anywhere that didn’t remind me of Sam?

  “Phoebs, you’re my best friend. I want you back in New York. I want you around when my baby is born. But more than anything, I want you to be happy. You’ve been happier these past few months than you have the entire time I’ve known you.”

  She’d known me since I was four, and she wasn’t wrong. I had been happier than I’d ever even dreamt I could be. “I really do love him.”

  “I know you do. And I’m so damned relieved to hear you admit it. You’re stubborn as fuck, and I was legit scared I was going to have to work to make you get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “Do you want to be with Sam?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then go back and tell him.”

  “But…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. She was right. I wanted to be with Sam. I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything my whole life.

  “He still wants you.”

  Nerves prickled through me. “What if he doesn’t? What if…”

  “He’s not a fool. He wants you. He just doesn’t want to hold you back. Will you regret it if you turn down this job?”

  “Not as much as I’ll regret it if I lose him.”

  She sighed. “Thank god. Now get up and give me a hug. Then go stir my pudding.”

  Laughing, I slid off the barstool and wrapped my arms around her. “I’d say pregnancy is making you bossy but—”

  “But I’ve always been a bossy bitch, and that’s why you love me.”

  “I do love you.”

  “Oh, I know. Now you gotta let Sam know exactly how much you love him.”

  She was right. How was I going to do that?

  38

  Sam

  The second I walked into my grandmother’s house, I knew what she’d made for dinner. Pea soup. The same thing she’d always made me when I was feeling sick or out of sorts. I headed into the kitchen just in time to see Iris taking a sugar pie out of the oven.

  My grandmother was busy scooping flour onto the counter. I walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Dumplings?”

  She made a well in the middle of the flour heap and cracked an egg into the center. “Of course. I know what makes you feel better.”

  Iris set the pie on a rack to cool then headed straight for me, arms out.

  I hugged her. “Can’t remember the last time I had a sugar pie.”

  She rubbed my back. “Then it’s been too long. But no pie until after dinner, and that won’t be ready for a little bit. Can you come out to the greenhouse with me?”

  “Sure, what do you need?”

  She motioned for me to follow her, so I did, figuring she probably wanted me to move something heavy. The second I stepped inside the greenhouse, I realized what was actually going on. She’d placed a blanket on the floor in front of the stone fountain, complete with two round pillows, candles, incense, some crystals, and her oracle deck. Before I could say a word, she put her hands on my shoulders.

  “Sit. I don’t want to hear any complaints or rationalizations. You need this, and you’re going to humor me.”

  There was no point in arguing. I sat on one of the large, round cushions.

  She lit the candles around the fountain, then wafted the smoke from her small cauldron around me with her hands.

  “How long ago did you set all this up?”

  “I knew you were coming for dinner. I wanted to be ready. No talking now, just close your eyes and breathe.”

  I did as I was told, inhaling the aromatic smoke. Cinnamon—fiery cleansing and passion, rose—increase courage and attract love, and lemon—confidence and luck. There was nothing subtle about Iris’s approach. I shifted on the cushion.

  “Breathe.”

  I breathed.

  “Ground.”

  I drew in light, then imagined a grounding cord from my root chakra, growing deep into the earth.

  “Good. Ready to begin?”

  Iris was seated opposite me when I opened my eyes, shuffling her oracle cards. “Sure.”

  “Choose your crystal.”

  I opted for a fluorite point, clear at the base then swirled with deep green and purple toward the angled tip. Iris finished shuffling, held the deck between her hands, eyes closed, and then fanned the cards out in front of me.

  “I think a six card spread is in order. Choose your cards.”

  I slowly moved the fluorite over the cards, pulling out the six that felt right.

  Iris placed the first and second cards next to one another, the next three beneath them, and the sixth below that.

  Most oracle card decks had totally different cards from standard tarot, so I didn’t even try to interpret, I just let her study the cards as she turned them all over.

  “Well?”

  “Well, it’s very clear that you and Phoebe have an extremely strong connection.” She pointed to the top two cards. “This represents you, and this one represents her. There’s compatibility, passion, and there’s absolutely nothing casual about this relationship. You two were clearly destined to meet.”

  I swallowed hard. “Does it show a reason?”

  She turned over the next three cards. “Okay, this is the circumstance under which you were brought together, and this card represents fate and healing. You were meant to heal one another.”

  Well, that certainly rang true.

  “These next two are about the strengths and weaknesses in your relationship. I’m seeing an abundance of love and caring. There’s passion, but it goes way beyond that. You trul
y feel for one another. There’s strength too. But you’re both struggling. There’s uncertainty and past fears.”

  “Is that really on the card, or are you just trying to get me to acknowledge that Camilla is still messing with my head?”

  Iris let out a loud sigh and held up the card. “Look at the faces on these fairies. Do you see how they look frightened and are both turning to look over their shoulders? That’s fear from the past, things that haven’t quite healed, and it’s keeping them looking behind them rather than toward the future.”

  “Sorry.”

  She smiled. “Don’t apologize. It’s good to question everything. It’s also good to accept the answers.”

  “Point taken.”

  She reached for the final card. “This is the true-love card. It’ll show if this relationship can succeed and what might need to be addressed in order for that to happen.”

  I knew it was just a card and not a guarantee of a damn thing, but I held my breath anyway.

  “Okay, my sweet skeptic, you take a look and tell me what you see.”

  The image was of two fairies, facing one another, holding hands, with bright pink and green light showering down on them. “I see a couple, commitment…love.”

  Iris pointed to the water at the bottom of the card. “And trust. They’re helping each other through the current. That’s what you have to overcome. You both need to trust in your connection.”

  “Damn.” I studied the cards. She wasn’t making random shit up to mess with me. I could see all the imagery that led to her interpretation. It was as on-the-money as my own card draws. Hope prickled through me. She was right about me being a skeptic, but at the same time I did believe in what Phoebe and I had together. “Can I tell you something?”

  Her silvery brows arched. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

  “Ever since the day Phoebe arrived in Colebury, my morning card draws have been about soulmates and love. I got The Lovers and Two of Cups over a half-dozen draws in a row, and every time I did a more complete spread, they popped up too.”

  She nodded. “And why do you think that is?”

  “At first I thought it was just coincidence.”

  Iris’s lips pursed. She didn’t believe in coincidences, as she’d told me a gazillion times.

  “I know. I know. And when I kept getting the same cards, they did help me realize that what I was feeling for Phoebe wasn’t just simple attraction.”

  “Good. The cards don’t make the future happen a certain way, they’re just a way to get you to look at your present circumstances from a different perspective.”

  I scrubbed my hand through my hair, then let it tumble back down. “It did that, all right. Although I still think it was a little spooky how even in the bigger spreads I got cards that always pointed to romance and love.”

  She smiled. “Did it help? Knowing the cards and your experiences were in alignment?”

  “It did.”

  “Good. Means your grandmother and I got something right while raising you.”

  I laughed. “You did it all right.”

  “No one does it all right, but we did our best. And I know you’ll do the same when your kids come along.”

  The conversation with Phoebe about having kids popped into my head, along with a flash of our future that was so vivid I shivered.

  Iris handed me a small sachet. “Stick this under your pillow tonight. It’s not a spell, just some jasmine and vanilla. It’s the new moon, so set your intentions, meditate before you go to sleep, and this will keep you calm and enhance your dreams.”

  Jasmine bloomed at night and was said to give prophetic dreams, and I’d always preferred vanilla to lavender as a calming scent. She knew me well. “I will.”

  Iris moved the cauldron and candles onto the stone platform of the fountain where they’d be safe to burn down. The incense sticks were barely smoking anymore, and the short candles had burned most of the way down. “Dinner should be ready by now.”

  I followed her to the door. “Why did you choose the greenhouse, instead of just doing this in the house?”

  She gave me a sly smile. “Because I wanted a clear reading from someplace where you had a strong positive memory of Phoebe.”

  My cheeks heated. Did she know? She couldn’t, could she?

  Iris laughed and shook her head. “You really don’t realize how strong the energy is between you two, do you? And don’t look so embarrassed. It’s not as if you’re the first people to have sex in this greenhouse.”

  My mouth dropped open but no words came out.

  “I’m old, Sam, not dead.”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “No judgment.”

  She cupped my face with one hand. “You’re going to be fine, Sam. You’ll see.”

  I tucked the sachet in my pocket and followed her across the yard, hoping she was right.

  39

  Phoebe

  After Ellie had her fill of rice pudding, she needed to sleep. We said our goodbyes and I made my way back to my hotel, already certain that I had to tell Sam I still wanted to be with him.

  On a street I’d walked a thousand times in my life, there was a brand-new shop—The Crystal Connection. Sam. It baffled me that the city I’d grown up in now had me thinking of Sam at every turn.

  It was late, and every other storefront on the block was gated and locked up tight, but I crossed the street to get a closer look. The name struck me as much as the sparkling window display. The lights were on, and the woman behind the counter smiled and waved me in, then returned to her jewelry-making—twisting copper wires around crystals of every shape and size. I remembered Sam’s words to me when I’d first arrived in Vermont and he’d offered me his bathtub with an assortment of crystals. “Choose the one you’re most called to…”

  I breathed in through my nose, centering myself, then blew out slowly, closing my eyes and imagining light from above coming down through all my chakras. In my mind, I set my intention and made a request: Please show me a sign so I know if I’m on the right path.

  When I opened my eyes, my gaze was immediately pulled to a small glass display at the side of the counter. Beautiful quartz crystals with two points. I read the tag. Twin Crystals—the soulmate quartz.

  Soulmate.

  That single word explained so much. Sam and I had clicked from the moment we met, in ways I never had with anyone else in my life. I felt happy and safe with him, and so much love. And he’d said I felt like home. How had I not seen how all of that was more than just a summer fling? He was my person. My soulmate. One particular twin crystal stood out from all the rest, the twin points side by side, one taller than the other, each beautiful and sparkling with its own light, yet stemming from the same solid base. Like me and Sam.

  “Would it be okay if I held one of these crystals?” I asked the shopkeeper.

  She smiled and stood. “Of course, dear. Which one is calling to you?”

  I showed her, and she reached into the case, careful not to disturb all the other samples with her armful of jingly bracelets, and plucked out the one I wanted. The second she placed it in my palm, I knew. This was my sign, and I needed to give this crystal to Sam.

  “Could you possibly make this into a pendant?”

  “Absolutely. Is this for you or a gift?”

  “It’s for a man.”

  The slow smile returned to her face. “The man you love?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me a little about him so I know how to wrap the stone.”

  That was like asking me to tell her a little about food—I knew so much I didn’t know where to begin. “He’s strong, but gentle. Kind. Always giving, never asking for anything. He’s ridiculously good-looking, tall with silky, honey-colored hair. His eyes are like… I don’t even know how to describe it. They’re silvery, like mirrors, but it feels like they can see into my soul.”

  Soul. Soulmates. Holy shit.

  The woman nodded and made quick work of
the crystal, wrapping it with a mix of copper and silver wires. “The two wires, like the two crystals, represent the two of you, entwined, as you were meant to be.”

  She told me to choose a necklace, and I picked out a dark brown braided leather cord that matched the leather bracelets he often wore. She placed the pendant on the cord and held it up.

  “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

  Sam had told me that clear quartz was thought to be self-cleansing, but I bought a polished selenite heart and placed it in the box with the twin crystals. I wasn’t taking any chance of any negative energy lingering on any of it.

  The second I got back to the hotel, I called Mark. He was none too pleased to hear that I was canceling the meetings he’d set up, but I told him my mind was made up. And it was. A hundred percent. So much so that I knew I couldn’t wait another three days to take my flight back to Vermont. And the things I had to tell Sam couldn’t be said over the phone. First thing in the morning, I got a rental car and got on the road.

  Connecticut traffic was a bear due to construction, which put me in Massachusetts during rush hour, all of which made me even more anxious to get back to the peaceful, less-crowded roads of Vermont.

  Except for the winding mountain roads, which were making my life flash before my eyes. Only this time, instead of the doomsday scenarios that I’d imagined when I was driving the U-Haul—scenes of me plummeting to my death—they were flash-forwards to a life with Sam. A beautiful, magical life.

  I drove up to the house, ready to run inside, but his truck wasn’t in the driveway. Dammit. I drove past his grandmother’s house, then to Crystal Persuasion. Still no truck.

  Then I saw it, parked in front of Speakeasy. He was back to his old routine. Drinks at Speakeasy after work.

  My heart pounded in my chest.

  Please let him say yes.

  I forced myself to breathe and put one foot in front of the other as I walked through the door. As I entered, I realized I hadn’t walked in the main entrance since my first visit. The bar looked different at night from this vantage point. I scanned the room. The tables were mostly full, as was the bar. Hamish’s seat was empty, but someone had left him a beer and a small plate of wings. I recognized some regulars laughing and drinking, enjoying plates of skinny dippers and sliders. Then I saw the long white hair. And the short gray and lavender hair. Rose and Iris were here, with an empty seat beside theirs.