Last Dance Page 2
Sabine, you try my patience by failing to realize our worlds are vastly different. What matters to you is often of little consequence here. Your life is your own to live, my humble role is one of guidance.
“Then guide me to the book!”
The path to what you seek begins in your soul. Search out wisdom from those with like minds. Mistakes are inevitable and great sorrow can be a stern teacher.
“What do you mean ‘great sorrow?’” I sat up straight in bed, clutching covers to my chest. “I’m not going to lose Nona. I won’t let it happen.”
Disease is only one way to be trapped in an earthly body and a lost soul waits to be set free. Do not withdraw when assistance is sought.
“Would you stop talking in circles and just tell me what to do?”
Do as your grandmother asks.
“I don’t understand.”
But you will …
She broke the connection, and I opened my eyes to an empty room.
Determination pulsed through me. Nona had asked me to find the remedy book, and that’s exactly what I would do. Also, I’d make Nona’s life easier by taking over the housework and cooking. I could even help her home computer dating business, Soul Mate Matches, by answering phones and organizing her files so efficiently she’d never lose her computer password or important papers again.
Confidently, I sailed into Nona’s office.
My grandmother sat at her desk, absorbed in the computer screen, jotting down notes with one hand while snacking on a pumpkin muffin with the other. She looked so vibrant, with shining gray eyes and rosy color in her cheeks; it was hard to believe she was ill.
“Good morning, Sabine.” She tapped her keyboard, bringing up photographs of dozens of smiling women. She clicked on more keys until only a woman with reddish brown hair and a round freckled face was on the screen.
“How are you feeling?” I asked cautiously.
“Never better. I think I’ve found a match for Kenny Campbell. Beatrix Frayne is over thirty, loves animals, and volunteers at a Boys and Girls Club. If their astral charts are compatible, I’ll arrange a meeting.” She gestured to a plate of muffins. “Help yourself. They’re still warm.”
“Thanks,” I said, reaching for one. Then I glanced around Nona’s office. “How can you find anything with so many piles, folders, and boxes scattered all over?”
“It is a mess,” she admitted with a chuckle. “But I have my own system.”
“A little organizing couldn’t hurt. Let me help.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“But I want to,” I said, picking up two thick piles of papers.
“No! Don’t mix those up!” Nona flew from her chair and snatched the papers. “It took hours to compile these files of over-fifty men with musical talent. And the other pile is recently divorced Taurus women.”
“Then I’ll help by typing these.” I turned to a box filled with Post-it notes. “You’ll be able to find all the information in one place.”
“Well … I guess that couldn’t hurt.”
It didn’t hurt me, but Nona winced when I dumped the box on the floor and began organizing. I tried, really I did, but how was I supposed to know “Hairy Fish and Bell Frog” meant a new client named Harold Trout would be a good match for Annabelle Hopper? Just when Nona stopped me from shredding a list of new client numbers, the doorbell rang.
I rushed to answer it.
“Hey, Sabine, are you ready?” my friend Penny-Love greeted, looking like a freckled angel in jeans and boots. Her full name was Penelope Lovell, but her nickname, like her white T-shirt, was a good fit.
“Ready?” I stared at her blankly. “For what?”
“Duh.” She ran her polished ruby-red nails through her copper curls. “Sabine, did you fall off the planet or something? You promised to go shopping, you know, to buy decorations for Fall Fling Dance. The Booster Club is counting on us to have everything by next Saturday.”
“I forgot.” I gave a rueful smile. “Things have been hectic lately.”
“So I heard. I couldn’t believe when Jill told Kaitlyn who told Amber who told me that you were there when Danielle was found half-dead on the football field. What happened? Why didn’t you call me?”
“Sorry. Everything was crazy—rushing to the hospital and then staying until Danielle’s family showed up and I found out she was going to be okay. I didn’t get home till late,” I said evasively. Penny-Love was great fun, but she was also a great gossip. I had to be careful what I revealed to her. If she knew a psychic vision had led me to Danielle, the news would be all over school in a flash.
To change the subject, I pointed to the driveway. “Where’d you get the car?”
“My oldest brother. He needed Dad’s car to impress a girlfriend, so he offered me his rusty reject. It’s not much, but it runs fine.”
I looked dubiously at the rust-brown dented Mustang on our gravel driveway. One tire was half the size of the others, making the car lopsided.
“It’s great you got wheels,” I told her. “But you’ll have to go without me.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“Because Nona needs me to—”
“Nonsense,” my grandmother interrupted, coming up behind me. “I don’t need anything. You go out and have fun.”
“I can’t leave you.” I shook my head. “Not until you’re better.”
“Nona looks better than ever to me,” Penny-Love put in as she greeted my grandmother with a hug. Both romantics at heart, they’d become quick friends. “So how’s the love biz?”
“Blooming like a garden! I signed up three new clients this week.”
“Getting paid for matchmaking is like the best job in the world,” Penny-Love said. “If you ever need an assistant, give me a call.”
“It’s a deal.” My grandmother smiled.
“You don’t need an assistant, you have me. And I’m not going to leave you alone.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I want to help.”
“You can help best by not helping,” Nona insisted. “I know you mean well, Sabine, but I’ll get more accomplished alone.”
“And we have important things to shop for today,” Penny-Love added firmly.
Cornered by both of them, how could I argue?
So for the next few hours, I put worries aside and shopped.
There wasn’t a mall in Sheridan Valley, a medium-sized blend of suburbs and rural farms, so we drove into Sacramento. It wasn’t a long drive, about forty minutes by freeway. Penny-Love had funds from the Booster Club and a mile-long list of things to buy: crepe paper, paper plates, plastic silverware, colored paper, paint, glitter, and more. When we finished, Penny-Love talked me into hitting the clothing stores and trying out extreme fashions. I tried on a wild purple plastic mini dress and she slipped into a silver sequin gown with a slit down to her belly button. We paraded around the store, receiving weird looks from other customers and suspicious looks from the clerks. Bursting into laughter, we changed back into our Tshirts and jeans, then hit the food court.
After serious contemplation, I chose Chinese and Penny-Love bought the largest cheeseburger I’d ever seen. Amazingly, she ate the whole thing—plus a jumbo platter of French fries.
Then we went into a jewelry boutique and I found a pair of funky piano-shaped earrings perfect for my sister Ashley. My twin sisters’ birthday party was in two weeks, and Amy had begged me to come in her last email. Since it was going to be held at an amusement park, where I could easily avoid my mother, I’d agreed to go.
I wanted to show my sisters how much I missed them with special gifts, so I convinced Penny-Love to stop at a used bookstore. Amy collected vintage series books like Nancy Drew. I checked her list of most sought-after titles—and struck pay dirt with a shiny green book titled, The Haunted Fountain. When I found an autograph from the author, I knew this was a great find—and for only eight dollars!
When we returned home, I felt better than I had in days.
&
nbsp; Until I saw the midnight-black Lexus parked in the driveway.
Penny-Love heard my low gasp and turned to me in concern. “What is it, Sabine? You just went totally white.”
“I’m okay.” I swallowed hard.
“You don’t sound okay, but whatever.” She glanced over at the Lexus. “Wicked car. Whose is it?”
“My mother’s.” I resisted the urge to run away. “She wasn’t due for two hours.”
“Maybe she hurried because she missed you.”
I snorted. “That will be the day. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I don’t believe it. Parents can’t resist messing with their kids’ lives like a bad habit. It’s all, you should do this or why aren’t you doing that, but we always make up and hug afterwards. It’s normal to clash with your mother.”
“Nothing’s normal with us. It’s complicated—and hard to talk about.”
“You never talk about your family,” she accused.
“There’s not much to tell. My mother hates me, so I’m living here now.” I took a deep breath, then stepped out of the car. “I’d better go inside.”
“Will you be okay?” she asked, twirling a red curl around her finger.
“Sure.” I forced a weak grin. “My mother already kicked me out of the house. What else can she do?”
I was about to find out.
Mom looked her usual perfectionist self, wearing a tailored gray suit, matching heels, and an uptight smile. She started off with fake polite talk, asking about school and friends. Not that she cared. I mean, she wouldn’t even look directly into my face, as if she was afraid of what she might see—or more likely—what I might see. And she kept glancing around, as if expecting a ghost to suddenly pop out.
When she turned to Nona and asked for a private moment with me, my pulse jumped. It took all my willpower not to grab Nona and beg her to stay with me.
Instead, I lifted my chin defiantly as I faced my mother. “Okay we’re alone, so spit it out. What do you want?”
“Sabine, there’s no reason to use that tone with me,” she said. “I’m your mother and no matter what you may think, I do love you.”
“Yeah. It shows.”
“Are you still angry with me?”
“Of course not.”
“Sending you away was harder on me than you.”
“Oh, really?” I arched my brows skeptically.
“Of course. But I’m relieved it’s all worked out for the best. You’re doing well in school and have new friends. Your sisters tell me you even have a boyfriend. What’s his name?”
I hesitated, unwilling to share something so personal, but not comfortable with a direct lie. “Josh DeMarco.”
“DeMarco? Is he Italian?”
“I don’t know,” I said icily. “Or care.”
“I was simply asking a question. I’m sure he’s a charming boy, and I’d love to meet him when I have more time. It’s obvious you’re thriving with your grandmother. You always preferred her anyway. Instead of being angry because I arranged for you to stay here, you should thank me.”
“Thank you,” I said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is there anything else?”
“Well …” She glanced down at her clenched hands. “There is something I need to discuss with you. I came here so we could talk away from the twins.”
“Why? Are they okay?” Alarm leaped in me. “Amy hasn’t had a bad asthma attack, has she?”
“No, nothing like that. But I’m concerned about Ashley’s friend, Leanna.”
I’d never heard the name. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Leanna is the younger sister of that boy from your last school.” She pursed her lips. “The one who died.”
Guilt and pain slammed into me, but I masked my emotions with a shrug. “So?” I folded my arms across my chest. “That still has nothing to do with me.”
“But it does,” my mother insisted. “Leanna will be at your sisters’ birthday party. It could be awkward and remind everyone of that unpleasant time.”
“I’ll stay out of her way.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be enough.”
My stomach clenched. “What do you mean?”
“If you love your sisters, make sure they have a happy birthday.”
“How?” I asked icily.
She met my gaze squarely. “Don’t come to their party.”
I couldn’t talk about Mom’s request, not even to Nona. My heart ached too much, and talking about it wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, Mom was right. Although I’d never met Leanna, she would recognize me as the “freak” who predicted her brother’s death. I’d warned him not to drive on prom night, but he’d just laughed about it with his pals. Only no one was laughing when he died in a fiery crash. Instead they pointed fingers of blame at me, as if knowing made me guilty.
And I loved my sisters too much to ruin their birthday.
How am I going to tell them I can’t go to their party? I thought, blinking back tears. Say I have a date? Fake a contagious illness? Or just blow them off like I don’t care? Lying is horrible, I hate it! But what other choice do I have? My lie will be like a secret birthday gift to my sisters, so they can keep believing Mom is perfect and I’m the screw up.
It was so hard, wanting to do the right thing yet not sure what would hurt my sisters more. Finally, I made what seemed like the hardest decision of my life. Before I chickened out, I went to my computer, logged online, then typed a short email:
Amy and Ashley,
Something came up and I can’t make your party. Sorry.
Happy birthday. Love Sabine.
Then I hit “Send.”
After that, I kept too busy for thinking, feeling, hurting. Since Nona wouldn’t let me back in her office, I tackled housework. Then I stayed up past midnight embroidering a pillowcase with delicate pink roses. The next morning, after washing and folding four loads of laundry, I shrugged into my jacket and went outside to gather eggs.
A sliver of sunshine broke through the gray sky, then disappeared behind puffy white clouds. The ground was damp with dew and fallen leaves crinkled under my boots. I tightened my jacket, rubbing my chilled hands together.
The basket was nearly full with brown speckled eggs when I heard a motor rumble and saw Dominic by the barn starting up his truck. His secondhand Ford had some dents, but was dependable. Dominic had proven himself dependable too. He’d helped me out of a few tough situations, and I was learning to trust him. Still we weren’t exactly friends, more like reluctant allies.
Penny-Love practically drooled over Dominic, flirting outrageously when he was around. He was good-looking, I guess, if you went for the surly, mysterious type. But I didn’t. I’d already found the perfect guy. Josh was tall, athletic, and so considerate he volunteered regularly at hospitals. How could I not fall for someone who made sick kids laugh by pulling stuffed rabbits out of bedpans? Josh embraced humanity, while Dominic avoided people, preferring to work outdoors with animals.
“Hey, wait!” I called to Dominic, setting my basket on the porch as I rushed over to his open truck window. “We need to talk about Nona.”
“When I get back,” Dominic said briskly.
“How long will that be?”
“Don’t know.” He had an irritating habit of speaking in short sentences—when he bothered to speak at all.
“You’re planning on being gone awhile or you wouldn’t have packed.” I pointed to the worn brown suitcase on his passenger seat. “Where are you going?”
“Astoria.”
“Oregon? But that’s over five hundred miles away.” I narrowed my gaze. “Does this have something to do with Nona’s remedy book?”
He shrugged. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“If I find it.”
“We’re supposed to work together. You can’t just leave without telling me anything. And who will take care of the livestock while you’re gone?”
His calm tone infuriated me. “Shouldn’t you tell Nona that you’re leaving?”
“Did already.”
“But you didn’t bother to fill me in on whatever lead you’re following. That’s not how partners work. If you found out something important, I demand to know what it is.” I grabbed the edge of the car window. “You’re not going anywhere till I have some answers.”
I expected him to yell at me to get out of his way. But instead of losing his temper, he broke into a smile. “You think you’re strong enough to stop my truck?”
“Probably not.”
He chuckled. “But you’d try anyway?”
“Sometimes trying is all you can do.”
“I know,” he said with a nod. “You’re good at it.”
Our eyes met and we weren’t talking about the truck anymore. Energy sizzled between us, making me hot and uncomfortable, like wearing a wool jacket on a sunny day. I didn’t understand these feelings, nor did I want to. Dominic and I only had one thing in common: my grandmother.
“Okay, partner, here’s the situation,” he said briskly, shutting off the truck’s engine so the yard was suddenly quiet. Even the chickens ceased cackling. “I’ve been making calls and checking records for Florence Jane Walker Tuttle.”
“Nona’s grandmother?” I asked eagerly. “What did you find?”
“I tracked down this guy, Alex Tuttle, who has old pictures of a distant aunt named Agnes.”
“Our Agnes?”
“Don’t know. But I plan to find out.”
“So you’re driving all the way up the Oregon coast? Couldn’t you just ask on the phone?”
“Not if I want to look through family albums.”
“Albums?”
“Very old family albums.”
“Wow. I’d love to see them.”
“So come with me.” He held out his hand invitingly, his fingertips brushing against my arm.
I jumped back, my skin tingling where he’d touched. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? We are partners.” He spoke the word in a soft, teasing way and he studied me with a look that made me uneasy.
“But—I can’t just drive off with you.”
“Why not? Afraid?”