Authors: Liz Schulte
“You look absolutely stunning,” he said, kissing my cheek and filling my senses with the smell of aftershave and roses. He ran his hands down my arms. “How was your day?”
“Strange. Thank you for the flowers.” I ushered him in and deposited the roses in a vase in the kitchen.
“Strange how?”
I told him about Cheney and how I couldn’t figure out who he was. Michael surprised me by laughing. “Well, what do you think he is, Selene? Obviously one of your friends is playing a joke on you. You weren’t seriously concerned, were you?” He brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers.
I forced a laugh. “Of course not. How was your day?”
“Great. I did a thirty mile ride this morning . . .” Michael kept talking and my thoughts wandered. I didn’t mind cycling on occasion, but I wasn’t as into it as he was. I paid enough attention as we drove to the restaurant to make the appropriate responses, but my mind was on Cheney again. None of my friends would pull a joke like that. And he knew I was a witch—something only someone in the coven could’ve told him, and that would never happen. Michael didn’t even know I was a witch.
We pulled to a stop outside of Tristan’s, a posh restaurant in downtown Raleigh. The valet opened my door and helped me out.
Michael took me inside with a gentle hand on my back and we were escorted to a table. I looked at him sitting across from me through the candle light. He belonged in a place like this and being here with him almost made me believe I belonged here, too. Michael was without a doubt the best looking man I’d ever met, and he chose me. I was still flabbergasted. He wasn’t arrogant like other handsome men; in fact, he was the most doting and considerate man I had ever met. Guys like him came around once in a life time—if you were extremely lucky.
He caught me staring and smiled, accomplishing the impossible—making his handsome face even more devastating.
“What are you thinking about?”
“How happy I am to have met you,” I answered honestly.
“Just think, you could’ve moved anywhere, but you moved to Raleigh and opened a store on the same block as mine. Now that’s serendipity.”
I flashed my most dazzling smile. “Maybe, or maybe not. I don’t like to think life is a series of accidents.”
“Well, fate or serendipity, I’m glad I ended up with you.” Michael took my hand and rubbed his thumb against my wrist. “There’s something I want to ask you, Selene.”
I met his eyes, an icicle of dread forming in my stomach.
“We’ve been seeing each other for a while, and I know we haven’t discussed this, but my family loves you and I, of course, love you.” He reached into his pocket.
My breath clogged my throat and I had the urge to drop his hand. This couldn’t be happening.
“Will you marry me?” He held out a velvet jewelry box.
I struggled to breathe, and speaking was next to impossible.
He smiled widely and opened the lid. Inside was the most beautiful, perfect ring. If I had a thousand rings to choose from, this one would have been my choice—a diamond encrusted platinum infinity band with a large princess cut solitary diamond on the top. It caught the light and flared in sparkling temptation.
“It’s beautiful,” I croaked. My brained scrambled for an appropriate response to all of this. I couldn’t force a smile though; my mouth stayed stubbornly motionless.
“Not as beautiful as you.”
The sound of my phone ringing completely broke the moment. Air gushed back into my lungs with a surge of relief, and I fumbled for my purse, apologizing. I thought I had turned off the ringer. I wrestled the phone from the pocket in my purse. It was a number from New Haven. My heart sank just a little.
“I think I need to take this.”
Michael nodded, then leaned back in his chair. Sipping his wine, he left the ring box open and watched me.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Warren?”
“Yes?”
“Your grandmother has been in an accident . . .”
“What? Is she okay? What happened? Can I talk to her?”
“Mrs. Meriweather fell down some stairs in her home. She’s pretty banged up, some broken bones and bruising, a collapsed lung. She’s being taken to the hospital now. Are you still in the area? She’s asking for you.”
“I’m in Raleigh. Who are you?”
“I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. Jasper Hixson. We went to school together . . . I’m a paramedic now. She kept saying your name, and I saw your number by her phone. I thought I should call.”
“Yes, Jasper, thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up. “Michael, my gram’s been in an accident. I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Michael looked very concerned. “Is she okay?”
I waved my hand, dismissing his worry. “I’m sure she’s fine, but she’s asking for me.” I don’t know why I acted like that. I didn’t know her condition at all, but I couldn’t stand his empathy.
“Of course.” He tossed money on the table, scooped up the ring, and ushered me out of the restaurant.
There was a roaring in my ears and my heart thudded in my chest. I felt so helpless and so far away from Gram. I barely heard Michael as he talked on our way back to my house.
He walked me to my door, his blue eyes even brighter with anxiety. “You’re being awfully quiet. Are you worried?”
“Just thinking about everything I need to do.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Thank you for understanding.”
He caught my arm as I started to walk into my house. “Selene, you haven’t answered my question.”
“Oh . . .” Leslie’s accusation echoed in my mind, but I wasn’t scared of moving the relationship forward. Michael was a good man, and I could do much worse. We just hadn’t discussed marriage before—that was the only reason I panicked. I nodded to myself before I answered. “Of course.” I kissed him again. “We’ll talk more about it when I get back.”
“Are you sure I can’t come with you?”
“No. We’ll plan a time for you to come down and meet her. I don’t want it to happen like this.” I was painfully aware of the minutes slipping by. “I’m sorry. I really do have to go.”
“Drive carefully, and call me when you get there or I’ll worry,” he said softly, holding me close.
I gave him one last chaste kiss. “I will.”
He gave me a half wave and a nod as I closed the door behind me.
Michael evaporated from my mind as I went into a packing, planning, and phone call frenzy. I called Jessica and told her what was happening so she could let the other girls know. I also begged her to watch my studio while I was gone. Then I called the other instructors to see if anyone could sub my classes. All the while, I threw everything I could fit into a suitcase. I cleared my bathroom counter into a plastic sack, then grabbed my cat and fought him into his carrier. And we were off.
The windows were down, Florence and the Machine blared in my ears, and I raced along with no regard for speed limits. It was just me and the moon tonight. I could feel the bright orb’s pull as it looked down on me and lit my path home.
“You keep her safe,” I whispered, as if something was up there listening to me. “Keep her safe.” I pressed harder on the accelerator.
It was after midnight when I tore into the hospital parking lot with my little red Ford Focus. I strode through the lobby directly to the desk. “My grandmother was brought in earlier tonight. Edith Meriweather.”
“Visiting hours are from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. You can come back in the morning, dear.”
“You don’t understand. I need to see Gram tonight. She was hurt and asking for me. I need to see her.”
The woman appeared to be wavering slightly, so I went in for the kill, letting my eyes fill with tears as I spoke the absolute truth. “She’s all have, please.”
She nodded. “Don’t stay too long. She needs her rest.”
I nodded to her, wiping my eyes.
“Room 413.”
The hallways were eerily quiet. I eased into Gram’s room. My hand flew to my mouth, and I choked back a cry. She had an IV in her neck, and her face was swollen and horribly bruised. An arm was elevated, as was a leg. Poor Gram looked like she’d been hit by a bus then backed over again for good measure. I touched her free hand. It was cold and still—completely unlike its usual self.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Gram. I love you. I’ll be back in the morning. Be strong.” Energy coursed from me into her.
I forced myself from the room. All of my nervous energy suddenly zapped, I walked slowly back to my car then drove the familiar roads home. I pulled up to the front of the two story brick and shingle home I knew too well. In the dark the house looked creepy because it blended in with the background, and its dimly lit windows were like eyes staring down at whoever dared to interrupt its slumber. There was something unusual about the house tonight though. A soft light glowed from the half-moon window in the attic, welcoming me home.
What on earth was Gram doing in the attic?
I hefted Stewie and my bags up the steps on the porch and sat them at my feet as I dug out my keys to let myself inside. Once the door was securely closed, I let Stewie out of his cage. He took off in an unhappy streak of orange. I surveyed the house. It looked and smelled exactly as it did the first time I’d arrived when I was 7 years old—lived in and fragrant with fresh bread and lavender. Not all was cozy, however.
Blood smears at the bottom of the stairs marked where she had fallen. I went to the kitchen and got a wet cloth. When I was finished cleaning, I dragged my bags to my room in the turret and collapsed onto my bed. The room was peaceful and dark, the moon the only light. I was surrounded by complete and utter silence. It was, naturally, driving me mad.
After a few moments I gave up on sleeping. I walked around the house, taking in every familiar detail and touching objects that held sentimental value. My parents’ photograph, Gram’s quilt, the clay bowl I made for Gram in my first pottery class . . . Her house was a scrapbook of my life. I walked out the back door to the center of the yard. In the distance, waves crashed against the shore. My friend, the moon, still cast its silvery glow down on me. I held my arms out wide, surrendering to the power it held over me. I spun in a slow deliberate circle, my face lifted toward the pale majestic beauty. I breathed out all my tension, letting the night take it away.
“Gram will be okay,” I said aloud to make sure the universe understood that was the only outcome I was willing to accept. She would be fine and the cosmos better have my back on this one. I’d suffered enough loss for one lifetime. “No more will be taken from me, not now. I’m not ready.”
Peacefulness washed over me with the sounds of the waves. I stopped spinning and lay on the ground with my arms and legs spread out wide. My senses filled with the sound of the ocean, which I’d missed terribly, and the glow of the moonlight. After a while sleepiness found me. I sat up and went to my bedroom, where I slept like the dead until the alarm on my phone brought me back to life.
The sun had barely opened its eyes when I was already on my way to the shore. I spread my mat out on the beach and began my morning routine, the sun salutations warming me from the inside out. I was having trouble focusing though. Something nagged at my consciousness, keeping me from relaxing fully. I glanced at my watch—barely 6 a.m. I couldn’t go the hospital for another hour. The feeling didn’t subside.
I collected my mat and turned to head back to Gram’s. I spotted someone off in the distance and had the distinct impression I was being watched. I was too far away to make out any features or even to tell whether it was a man or woman, yet I felt a steady stare penetrating me to the core.
I backed toward the house, seriously creeped out, but when the figure made no move to follow me I relaxed a little. I dropped my sandy mat on the porch, rummaged up some food for Stewie, and made a mental note to pick up cat food and litter. I showered and dressed quickly, wanting to make it to the hospital right at 7. I gathered my hair into a low ponytail, not bothering to do anything more than towel dry it, and pulled on the first things my hand landed on in my suitcase—olive green cargos and a blue and white striped sweater.
When I got to Gram’s room at the hospital, a nurse was standing next to her bed taking her vitals.