THE SHADOWED ONYX: A DIAMOND ESTATES NOVEL (11 page)

“Oh, you know Maggie and her candles.”

She’d been selling them for years, which was fine, but to subject all of them …?

Joy had tiptoed into the viewing room, where they’d spent the day before greeting the family, shaking hands, and being squeezed by middle-aged women she’d never met. That day they were there to say good-bye once and for all.

The candles had been everywhere—every surface flickered with a tea light or votive. Maggie stayed near a glowing cluster and inhaled comfort of Melanie somehow. Joy would have to overlook the pumpkin spice that filled the room. At least it was better than roses. She stepped over to Maggie and put her arms around her. “How are you doing?”

“The best I can.” Maggie’s shoulders slumped.

“It’s all anybody can ask.” Great. She sounded just like the people who had driven her crazy with questions. Silly questions. Silly answers. Joy looked around the room. “The candles are a nice touch.”

“Pumpkin spice was Melanie’s favorite.”

That was true. Joy had forgotten. Mel always loved the minute leaves started to fall because she knew the boxes would start coming from her mother’s candle company.

“Pumpkin spice,” mused Maggie. “Gingerbread spice, vanilla—and she didn’t play with them. Remember the coffee beans? She’d smell the candle and then the coffee beans to clear her senses, and then another candle and more coffee. She would do that for hours.”

Joy remembered. They’d inhaled a lot of fragrance that way.

The pastor stood at the front. “Gather around, everyone. Take your seat and let’s start the service.”

Maggie clutched Joy’s arm. “You’re family. Don’t sit at the back. You’re the nearest family she had.”

Joy smiled softly and followed Maggie down the aisle. It couldn’t have been any other way.

Later she stood beside the family as the coffin lid was lowered. She held Maggie’s hand, squeezed it as they caught the last glimpse of their precious Melanie.

Joy shook her head. A touch of a smile teased her lips. Even in that dreadful moment at the funeral, the movie addiction she’d shared with Melanie bubbled to the surface. They’d have surely looked to M’Lynn, from
Steel Magnolias
, talking about the moment her daughter died for the quote-for-the-day.

“There was no noise, no tremble, just peace…. I realize as a woman how lucky I am. I was there when that wonderful creature drifted into my life, and I was there when she drifted out. It was the most precious moment of my life.”
Joy sighed. Shelby’s death, in the movie, was sacrificial in some ways because of what she’d put her body through for her son. A tragic but natural occurrence. Melanie’s was everything but that. So not precious. So unnatural.

What was it about cemeteries that drew people to them like magnets? Filing in for holiday visits and to bring flowers at the change of the seasons. Dead people didn’t know they had a new plant or a basket of silk flowers or even a visitor—or at least that’s what Joy had always assumed. Maybe she’d been wrong. Joy pulled in close to where Melanie was buried and turned the ignition off. She leaned against the headrest as rain pelted her windshield.

What was the truth? That question was what brought her there. She needed to reach out to Melanie with no one around.

To see if she could make sense of it all somehow.

Joy climbed from the car and shut the door with her hip. Her eyes went right to Melanie’s grave. The only fresh mound in the cemetery. She crept out among the headstones, careful to step around where she imagined the people lay six feet beneath the damp earth, and approached the churned heap of dirt.

It didn’t seem like a real grave without the headstone. Joy’s grandpa had selected and ordered it as a gift to Maggie while he was in town for the funeral. It would still be several weeks until it was ready. Wonder what Grandpa had engraved on it. Here lies a life ended too soon? Nah. Here lies a stupid, selfish person? No.

Here lies someone who had no hope.

Had the concept of hope dissolved for Melanie like it had for Joy?

Was Mel there? Could she see Joy? Joy’s head twitched as she sensed something. Someone? Don’t look back. The palpable presence wouldn’t be visible. Maybe if she spoke out … as long as Melanie didn’t speak back audibly. Joy couldn’t face that possibility out here alone in a cemetery at dusk. No way.

“Mel, you know me so well, I’m sure you know I can’t handle hearing from you, at least not yet, but I want you to know that I believe you exist somewhere between the world of the living and the dead. I don’t understand it at all, but it seems to be true. I want you to know that I love you. I hate what you’ve done to yourself, but I love you.” Joy scuffed the dirt with the toe of her boot. “Honestly, I could care less about Austin and what happened between you two. I came to your house …”—Joy’s voice caught with emotion—“that day to forgive you. And I do forgive you.”

Joy waited. She listened to the wind whistle in the trees. Winter was on its way.

Could the acceptance of forgiveness and love release Melanie from where she was trapped in the world of in-between? “It’s okay to let go, Melanie. I don’t know how it works. I don’t know if you’re stuck, or if this is where you want to be. I don’t know if you have a choice, but if you do, it’s okay to let go. It’s okay to release yourself to eternity if it’s a better choice than the one you’re enduring. I’ll be okay, and your parents will be okay. We miss you like crazy, but we forgive you and we love you.”

Joy collapsed onto the fresh dirt, her knees instantly damp and muddy. She scraped at the dirt and clutched handfuls as though hugging what remained of her best friend. Her tears mingled with the raindrops and landed on her mud-caked hands.

She fell forward onto the grave and sobbed. Her body wracked with the pain of tears withheld. She set them free. Her mind wanted to shout into the wind, “Why?” But she knew the wind had no answer. So she cried.

Hours later … minutes, maybe … Joy clambered to her feet, feeling much older than her seventeen years.

“‘Wouldn’t it be lovely if we were old?’” Joy whispered the quote from
The Way We Were
as she let the mud drop from her fists. “‘We’d have survived all this. Everything would be easy and uncomplicated; the way it was when we were young.’”

T
ime for us to talk about taking you to the next level.” Raven pulled the wrapper off her straw and rolled it into a tiny ball between her fingers. She flicked it and hit Ronald McDonald in the eye.

A little blond girl covered her mouth and giggled. Her mother grasped her hand and glared at Raven.

“Next level of what?” Joy had had enough of the stages of grief talk from the counselor. Was that what Raven meant? She pushed away her tray of fries.

“You going to eat those?” Raven nodded at the pile.

Joy waved her hand. “Help yourself. I’m done.”

Raven pulled the tray across the table. She squirted a huge pile of ketchup and then shook a flurry of black pepper over the mound of fries and a heavy dusting over the ketchup.

Gross. Raven selected three very peppery fries, dragged them through the puddle, and then shoved them into her mouth. “Next level of your spiritual journey.”

Joy looked away. The food was unappetizing enough on the tray, but half-chewed in Raven’s mouth? Disgusting. No wonder they were never very close before now. Totally different people. Something about that appealed to Joy now though. No expectations. No memories.

What had Raven just said? Joy needed to focus. “Did you say spiritual journey?” Her head whipped from side to side.

“Um. No way.” There would be no more journeying.

“Yeah. Listen.” Raven stuffed four more fries into her mouth then pointed her finger at Joy. “You got a lot of shadows, a lot of demons chasing you.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t just reject the idea immediately….” Raven laughed. “I can tell by the expression on your face that you’re hating this idea, but hear me out.”

Joy’s stomach twisted into a pretzel. No good could come of this conversation. Things had gone so far already. She needed to just grab her things and get out of there, take control back. But she couldn’t. It was like being stuck in a dream. She couldn’t move.

Raven licked the ketchup off her fingers. Finally. “Look. I know what it’s like to be confused and to have your faith blown to smithereens. Exactly what happened to me when my mom took off and my brother committed suicide.”

Joy gasped. “What? You’re kidding.”

“Yeah. Which is when I had to come live here with my dad. It wasn’t by choice. Before all that, I was a happy churchy kid like you were. Suddenly, I was face-to-face with being totally alone. Luc changed it all for me, and I can change it for you.” She shrugged. “It’s really not that big of a deal. If you could take the leap and believe in God without seeing Him or experiencing anything, then this jump is nothing. Especially since you’ve already seen the spirit world at work.”

She made a great point. It was true. Joy had blindly believed in something that had never, not even once, come through for her or even revealed itself to her in any tangible way. Yet here she was, staring eye-witnessed truth in the face and trying to deny it existed.

“It’s time for you to put aside blind belief in the unseen and embrace what’s right in front of you.”

Joy nodded. “I’m in.”

A leisurely stroll down a grassy lane with a white puppy on a leash. Joy reached down and patted the fluffy pup on the head then scratched it behind the ears. “You like that, boy?”

The little dog looked up at her with loving blue eyes that spoke his name from the very depths of his soul. Silas
.

They walked and walked. Along the familiar streets of town without a care in the world, like nothing had ever happened to either of them. They had been friends forever, as though born together. Maybe their souls had been united in an eternity past
.

Silas led the way. Not quite a puppy anymore
.

They walked on, not seeing a soul until a form appeared in the distance. A man. Joy would recognize those sandy curls anywhere. Austin
.

Silas began to pant. Even older—changes happened with each step forward
.

How did the dog know she and Austin had a history? It was as if Silas could read her mind or at least sense her heart rate
.

Joy felt the anger toward Austin rise in her chest like bile. A low growl came from Silas’s belly. He pulled at the leash, saliva dripping from his mouth, guttural growls coming at regular intervals. His strength magnified until he looked and sounded like a beautiful, full-grown wolf
.

Austin didn’t notice them at first
.

Silas barked once
.

Austin turned, probably expecting to see a dog walker
.

Silas and Austin made eye contact, and Silas began to run, yanking the leash from Joy’s hand
.

Austin’s eyes grew wide, and he half turned to run away. He couldn’t seem to pry his gaze off of Silas long enough to really attempt an escape
.

Full speed for a wolf was a lot faster than Joy could go, so she watched
.

Silas was at Austin’s heels in a matter of seconds, but Austin kept running. Joy could imagine how terrified he must be, but she couldn’t bring herself to cry out for Silas to stop. Would he if she did?

Silas stayed at the heels of his prey, foamy saliva dripping to the pavement. Austin ran … and ran, and ran
.

Joy heard a siren in the distance. Ambulance? Police car? It grew closer…
.

Joy’s eyes were dry. Blinking. Opening to reality.

Wait a minute. What
was
that sound?

Oh. Six o’clock in the morning. The siren was nothing more than her alarm clock interrupting her dream.

The dream had felt so real, almost like an out-of-body experience, which made no sense whatsoever. Joy shook her head. She was losing it. Hopefully it was nothing a hot shower wouldn’t cure.

“Tell me about what happened after you found Melanie on her bed.” Mary Alice Gianetti put down her pen and notebook and leaned forward, her elbows pressing into the tops of her thighs.