Discovering (28 page)

“I have an idea, Gammy.”

“I bet it’s the same idea I have.”

Calla smiles, relieved. “I love you, Gammy.”

“I love you, too.”

“So Willow can stay here, with us?”

“Absolutely. If she wants to. And if
you
don’t mind. It’s going to be close quarters in your room.”

“I know . I don’t mind. It’ll be . . . like having a sister.”

“All right.”Odelia opens the refrigerator. “We’ll talk to her when the dust settles a bit, so to speak. What do you want to—”

The doorbell rings loudly, cutting her off.

“Do you have an appointment coming, Gammy?”

“No. Must be Willow’s father or a walk- in reading.”She closes the fridge. “I’ll go see.”

Calla sits at the table and worries about Willow. She’s got a rough road ahead, even with support from Calla and her grandmother.

The front door closes and she hears a male voice mingling with her grandmother’s in the front hall. Willow’s father must be here. Calla hadn’t expected him so soon. That’s a good sign. Maybe he really is—

“Calla? There’s someone here to see you.”

She looks up, startled.

How could she have forgotten?

“Calla, I’ve been channeling your mother for days now,”David Slayton announces. “She wants to come through to you.”

THIRTY-SIX

Lily Dale
Monday, October 15
8:02 p.m.

“Give me your hands, please.”

Calla hesitates, then reaches across the space between her chair and David Slayton’s, facing each other in her grandmother’s dimly lit back room.

As he takes both her hands in his, she feels a little jolt . . . like an electric shock, transmitted from his fingertips to her own.

Her heart, which has been doing double-time since he showed up in the kitchen a short while ago, beats even faster.

If anyone can bring her mother through to her, it’s David Slayton.

Then again . . .

As she watches him bow his head and close his eyes, she reminds herself that his son Blue doesn’t seem to have the abilities he claims to have.

But his father’s the real deal,
Calla decides. He must be, because she can literally feel the room, his body, his hands, teeming with energy.

Perhaps a full minute of charged silence passes. Calla doesn’t dare move, speak, even breathe.

Then David Slayton announces, “She’s here.”

“My mother?”

“Yes.”

Calla exhales a shaky breath, waiting, knowing better than to interrupt his concentration with comments or questions.

“She wants you to know that she’s proud of you. She says you’re stronger and braver than she ever knew. Stronger and braver than you ever knew, too.”

David Slayton opens his eyes and his smile catches her off guard. He nods intently, listening to someone whose voice only he can hear.

“She’s telling you that the danger has passed. You’re safe now. She’s saying you don’t have to worry about her anymore. Do you understand what she means by this?”

“Yes.”

He’s talking about Sharon Logan.

Rather,
Mom
is.

Calla can actually feel her mother’s presence emanating from the medium, senses the softening in his demeanor as he channels her.

“She asks your forgiveness. Do you understand?”

Again, Calla nods.

“She did what she had to do. She never meant to hurt anyone else. You, above all. For you, there is only love.”

“Oh, Mom . . . Mom, I miss you so much. Every day. I feel so alone without you.”

“No. You’re never alone. You’re surrounded by her love. She wants you to remember that.”

“I will,”she whispers.

“She’s saying she wants you to stay close to your family. That you’ve made the right decision. She says your family will be there for you. Your father, your grandmother, your sister . . .”

Calla’s eyes widen. “My sister?”

“She’s showing me you and your sister, holding hands. Very much together. Do you understand this?”

“I . . . I’m not sure.”

Is he talking about Laura Logan?

Or about Willow, whom Calla just told Odelia might become like a sister if she moves in?

He goes silent, apparently listening. He nods again.

“She wishes she hadn’t told you to ignore your abilities when you were a little girl. She’s sorry. She was frightened.”

“By . . . my abilities?”

Again, he listens. “When she was a child, things went very wrong for her because of her communication with Spirit.”

Yes. Her father left.

“She was afraid something similar would happen to you. She asked you to deny who you were. She’s sorry,”he repeats.

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay. I know why you did it. You only wanted what was best.”

David Slayton pauses, eyes closed.

“She says she never was true to herself. To who she really was.”

“What do you mean, Mom?”Calla whispers into the empty room.

The answer comes in a moment. “She suppressed her own abilities. Didn’t want anyone to know . She shouldn’t have done that. She should have listened to her guides. If she had, she would have known everything. Do you understand?”

About her baby being alive? Is that what she means?

David Slayton doesn’t wait for an answer. His eyes snap open.

“She has an important message for you, and your father, too.”

Calla draws a deep breath and sits upright in the chair. “What is it?”

“She says . . . she was true to him. Even though it may appear otherwise. She was true to him until the end. She wants to remind you that caring about someone new doesn’t mean you automatically stop caring about someone else you once loved.”

Calla recognizes the exact words that popped into her head weeks ago, when she was wondering how she could have lingering feelings for Kevin now that she’s involved with Jacy.

That really was a message from Mom.

“And your mother thinks that your father is making good choices now,”David goes on. “Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes.”Calla exhales in relief. “It does. I’ll tell him.”

Another long pause.

And then, “She’s glad you’re aware of your guides. They’ve always been a part of you, but you didn’t know it. Keep listening to them. Keep watching them. They’re there to help you.”

“Do you mean . . . Aiyana?”

“And others who will become known to you. Your mother wants you to know that you’ll have different guides at different times in your life, to enlighten you as you need it.”

Thinking of the phantom nurse in the hospital, Calla smiles faintly, then asks, “Is my mother one of my guides?”

“She’s with you. Always.”

“Mom, please . . . please, I need to see you.”Tears stream down Calla’s cheeks.

“
Feel
her.”

David Slayton’s hands are radiating energy.

“I
can
feel her,”she whispers.

But I want to see her. Just once. Just one last time. Please . . .

She clenches David’s hands like a lifeline.

Focus.

Tune in.

She isn’t sure whether the voice she’s hearing is her own, or his, or even her mother’s; doesn’t know whether the words are only in her head or being spoken aloud.

Tune in.

Tune in.

With every ounce of her being, Calla concentrates on opening herself to her mother’s energy, feeding off David’s.

Please. . . .

A blurry human shape begins to materialize before her.

“Mom,”Calla breathes, as familiar features, so strikingly similar to her own, gain clarity.

Mom.

She’s here.

Her mother’s hazel eyes gaze lovingly at her.

Her mother’s lips curve in a joyful smile.

Her mother’s graceful hand reaches toward her, and Calla feels the whisper of her gentle touch against her cheek.

Bathed in the glow of maternal love, she memorizes the moment, memorizes the feel of her mother’s hand and the expression on her mother’s face, knowing it will have to last her a lifetime.

I love you.

Her mother’s voice fills Calla’s head.

I’m with you.

Don’t ever forget.

“I won’t,”she promises. “I won’t ever forget.”

“She’s pulling back,”David announces, but he doesn’t have to say it.

Calla can feel it. Her mother’s energy is gone.

“Thank you,”she tells David Slayton. “Thank you so much. I’ve been searching for her everywhere.”

He nods, looking satisfied.

Then he asks, “Do you remember what I told you when we met?”

“You told me to keep my wits about me. You said I was in danger. You were right.”

“Not that. Do you remember what else I said?”

She does.

Slowly, she says, “You told me that I was gifted.”

“Not just gifted. You have tremendous power in your ability—power that’s unusual in one so young. You need to learn to use your mediumship for the greater good. It’s not always an easy thing to do, even for an adult.”

“How am I supposed to figure things out?”

“With the help of others who have been where you are right now.”

“Like Patsy Metcalf? I’m taking her class in Beginning Mediumship so that I can—”

“No,”he cuts in impatiently, “that’s not what I meant. It’s a start, but it isn’t enough.”

“You mean my grandmother?”

“Odelia is descended from a long line of powerful mediums— each generation stronger than the next. What does that mean to you?”

Unsure how to answer, Calla falls helplessly silent.

“You need a mentor whose ability is greater than your own.”

He walks to the doorway, then turns back, his eyes boring into hers, watching her as if weighing a decision.

Then he gives a firm nod. “I’ll help you.”

Shocked, she can’t even respond. This is a man who doesn’t give his own son the time of day. Why would he want to help her?

“You and I will discuss this further. For now, good night.”

With that, he’s gone.

Calla sighs and leans back in the chair, spent.

She can scarcely believe what happened here tonight.

She actually got to see her mother, just as she’s been yearning to do since she arrived in Lily Dale and discovered that it might just be possible.

One last time. That’s all I asked for. That’s all I wanted.

But it wasn’t enough.

It could never be enough.

David Slayton’s words echo in her head.

You have tremendous power in your ability, Calla
.

Maybe he’s right about that.

Only time will tell.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Geneseo
Tuesday, October 16
3:17 a.m.

The dream is familiar.

Laura walks in the sunshine along a grassy shore beside a beautiful country lake surrounded by rolling, wooded hills. Just ahead are charming Victorian cottages, and there are little white flowers everywhere: lilies of the valley.

She bends to pick one of the bell- shaped blooms and holds it to her nose to breathe in its fragrance.

“Heavenly, isn’t it?”

The female voice is familiar. Startled, Laura looks up to see a woman standing beside her, smiling at her with unmistakable love.

Maternal love.

“Mom?”

“I’m sorry, so sorry . . .”Her mother wraps her arms around Laura, holding her. “I never meant to leave you.”

“I know .”

“But you’re not alone. I’m here. I’m always here. And so are your guides. Look for them, Laura.”
If you look hard enough,
you can always find it.

Laura doesn’t understand . . . and then, all at once, she does.

“Father Donald?”she asks her mother, and her mother nods.

“But I don’t feel him. I don’t see him.”

“You will again.”

“I feel so alone, though. Like I don’t belong to anyone. I don’t belong anywhere.”

Her mother lifts an arm and points at the cluster of cottages. Suddenly, they’re much closer than they were before. Laura can even see the peeling pinkish orange paint on the one closest to her, a two- story cottage with a front porch.

Someone is there, she realizes. On the porch.

It’s her mother—but no, it can’t be, because her mother is right here with her, and the person on the porch is too young.