The Beckoning of Beautiful Things (The Beckoning Series) (7 page)

Her chest compress
ed with the cold and she struggled to breathe. Her exhalation came out in icy puffs. Gasping and wheezing, her hands flew to her neck. Dread whipped her head back and forth like she was a weathervane in a windstorm.
What’s going on? What’s happening to me?
Her chest heaved, seeking breath, seeking life.

Vaguely catching the crackles of breaking branches, her eyes darted wildly, searching for the intruder.
Someone’s going to kill me. Someone’s going to… 
Sober Dober sailed through the underbrush and landed in the pond with a mighty splash.

The cold immediately cleared
, and she sucked air hungrily into her lungs. She rolled from the stone and landed on the wet grass on her back. Sober trotted out of the pond, cold droplets flying. He paused and shook, spraying Marissa with water. He licked her face with his messy, slurpy tongue. “Thank God you arrived.” She grabbed his neck and hauled herself up to sitting. “What the hell just happened?” Sober took another slurpy swipe at her face. “Okay, okay, I’m alright. I’m going to have to name you Demon Slayer. What the hell was that?” She picked herself up, brushed the debris from her pants, picked leaves from her hair, and retrieved Sober’s leash. Clipping the leash on the dog’s collar once more, she made her wobbly legged way back to her house.
Maybe, just maybe, there’s something to what Daniel had said. Just not the part about me…

When Marissa arrived at work, Crazy Betty sat at the front desk, as usual. Crazy Betty seemed as old as the brick building housing PS Publishing. She’d probably worked there since the beginning of time. Her real name was Betty Worthington, but everyone called her Crazy Betty – just not to her face.

Betty grew up in the hills of Virginia – the App-uh-l
atch-a’s, as she called them. “I’m hillbilly, and I’m not ashamed,” she often liked to say. She had been a chain smoker for much of her life and coughed like her body still heaved up tobacco memories, drank whiskey straight up on Friday nights, and spoke with a Southern drawl. Her sagging, wrinkled skin reminded Marissa of a Galapagos tortoise face. Her job was to answer the phones, but when the phone wasn’t ringing, she could usually be found spreading Tarot cards out along the counter for customers. She claimed to have “the sight.”

“Good morning, chil
d,” she said, looking over the tops of her red polka dot reading glasses. Her deep, gravelly voice tumbled from her mouth like sand over wet pebbles.

“Morning, Betty.”

“You look different this morning. What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Marissa stepped around the
blond wood front counter, heading for the back, where her desk was.

“My little Buddy did the strangest thing last night.”
Betty’s elder-mind drifted from topic to topic like she was finding her way through a conversation, stepping along stones and the occasional log to get to the other side of a creek.

“What did your Chihuahua do?” Marissa paused at the door to the back
office.

“He chased Pumpkin around the yard, something he hasn’t been able to do for years.” She hacked and coughed, reaching for the handkerchief she kept tucked in her bosom.

“It’s summer. Maybe he just felt good.”

“No, l
ord, no, I think his time is coming. I think he was chasing the Grim Reaper away, saying that he’s not ready to go just yet.”

“You said he was chasing the cat.”

“The Reaper probably disguised himself as the cat to make Buddy feel at ease. He can do that, you know.” She gave Marissa a rheumy-eyed glare.

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“What did you do to yourself? You look different.”

“It was my birthday
yesterday. I turned 26.”

“
Lord, lord, happy birthday, child! Come give Betty a squeeze.”

Marissa stepped
gingerly over to the elderly woman.

Betty folded Marissa into a cloud of
sour sweat, fresh-baked cookies, old-lady cologne and oodles of warmth, patting her back like she was a baby. She released Marissa and picked up her cards, tapping them on the counter. “Let’s see what the spirits have to say about your birthday.”

“Um, I should probably get my day started.”

“This will only take a minute. Twenty-six is a big year.” Tap, tap, tap. “That’s the year I met my second husband. My first died in a logging accident. The second, lord, he was with me for quite a while. Gave me three fine children. Did you know that?” Her gnarled fingers shuffled the deck.

“Yes, you told me,” Marissa answered.
Many times- Mary, Gary, and Frank.

Tap, tap, tap. “Twenty-
six is a big year,” the old woman repeated. “It’s the year you get your own face.”

“What?”

“It’s the year you get your own face. Or maybe that’s next year. I forget. Up until now you’ve been wearing the face of your parents.”

“What does that mean? My parents have been dead for years.”

“It means just that.” Tap, tap, tap. “Just because they’re dead, doesn’t mean you haven’t been wearing their faces.” Tap, tap, tap. “Oh, lord, Buddy! I’m going to miss that dog.”

“The dog hasn’t left you yet.”

“He will, child, he will. He’ll be heading towards Heaven by the end of this week, mark my words.” Tap, tap, tap. She laid the deck of cards on the counter. “Cut the cards, dearie.”

Marissa picked up half the cards and set them next to the other pile.

Betty placed the closest pile on top and deftly plucked a first, a second, then a third card out, laying them along the counter. As she pulled the third card, a fourth came with it. “Oh! Your outcome is unclear. Or blessed. All Major Arcana. This is big.”

“Which one is it?”

“Shhh. Wait, child. I’m listening to the spirits.” She cocked her head to the side and let her eyelids fall. Her mouth parted, and her breath came out like bottomless wheezes bubbling up from a deep well.

After a few minutes had passed, Marissa wondered if the old woman had fallen asleep. She shuffled from foot to foot, uncertain what to do. Slowly, she turned the doorknob to the back office.

Betty’s eyes popped open. “Buddy’s going to meet his maker, I can feel it. Did I ever tell you how Buddy came into my life?”

“Yes, I think you did, Betty.”

“He’s been such a good companion to me. He’s got the strength of all my husbands combined.” She dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief.

“Do you want to tell me what the spirits said about me?”

“Oh, yes, child, they’ve been yammering in my ear. You’re going to want to pay attention. Sit.”

“I need to get to work.”

“Sit.”

Marissa dutifully sat
, just like her Doberman.

“Look here.” Betty’s orange painted nail stabbed the first card.
The charms on her bracelet tinkled. “This is the card called La Mort.”

Marissa’s stomach lurched. “That’s death, right? Why would I get a death card?”

“That’s your past, child. Don’t be alarmed. It means a phase is completed.”

“What kind of phase?”

Betty looked thoughtful. “See how it came out upside down?”

Marissa nodded.

“You’ve been in inertia, child. You’ve been resistant to change - resistant to embrace your life journey.”

Marissa frowned.
How did this old woman know that? She felt like she’d been hiding for years.

“This card here.” Betty poked the card in the middle. “This is where you’re at right now.”

Marissa picked up the card and studied it. It looked like a jester cavorting on the card. “It looks playful. That’s not me.”

Betty took the card and placed it back on the counter. “That’s Le Mat – the Fool.”

“That sounds more like my idiot ex-boyfriend.” Marissa smiled.

“The spirits told me you’re with two.
”

“I went on a date last night
- just one date. He’s not my boyfriend.”

Betty nodded. A coughing fit erupted from her lungs. “Get me a water,
child,” the old woman wheezed between hacks.

When Marissa had returned with the water, Betty continued. “I think that was the obstruction to Buddy’s death that just passed through.”

“What was? Your cough?” Marissa’s forehead furrowed.

“Yes, I think we’ve freed him to cross over. I hope he waits until I get home. But he’s such a brave little warrior he’ll probably want to go it alone.”

Marissa glanced at the clock on the wall. “The reading?”

“Your two boyfriends,” Betty continued. “You’ve got to watch out for one of them.”

A dust devil of a shudder whirled up her spine. “I don’t have two boyfriends. I broke up with one and the other guy…well, we just met.”

“
The one you broke up with - he’s the one in the way.”

Marissa’s frown deepened. “What about the other? I haven’t agreed to be his girlfriend. I’m not sure if we
understand one another.”

“That’s because of
…” She tapped her fingernail against the desk.

Marissa rolled her eyes and looked up at the clock. “We need to finish up here, Betty. I’ve got to get to work.” She could feel her boss tapping her pen on the desk, looking for her.

“The Fool card is about new beginnings. It’s about important decisions – life-changing decisions that need to be made. I always feel hopeful when the Fool dances into my life.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Marissa’s eyes darted up to the clock. “Finish up, Betty.”

“You can’t rush the spirits, child. They speak in their own time.”

“Can’t you hurry them up?” She wrapped her arms around her abdomen.

Betty’s sharp nail jackhammered against the next card. “This card is important. It’s the Tower.” She said the name of the card in a low, ominous voice. “Major changes are coming, dearie. Big ones. You can’t hold them back.”

The dust devil reappeared, clearing a pathway up her vertebrae. Marissa clutched her stomach even tighter.

“The changes will have far-reaching repercussions. You won’t recognize your life when the Tower is through with you.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Not if you get the obstruction out of the way. Not if you embrace change.” The coughing spasms seized her again, and she reached for the water. “Don’t worry, Buddy, we’ll make it smooth sailing for your departure.”

Marissa’s eyes flicked to the clock.
Come on, come on, come on, old woman.
“Betty, I really have to go. Really, really, really.”

“Not yet, we have to finish up.”

“I’m listening. Go.”

“So you have the Tower…and then you have Le Diable.” She brought a bony hand up to her chin and rubbed it, causing her turkey waddle neck to wiggle back and forth. “This is going to be an intense year for you, dearie. You can always count on old Betty for guidance.”

Marissa released her arms from her stomach. She’d been holding her tummy so tight her arms were starting to ache. “Okay, Betty, that’s good to know. What doe Le Diable indicate?” Her eyes darted up and back, up and back to the clock.

“The Devil card is all about lust and obsession.”

Marissa’s jaw dropped open.
Want.
The word shot from her brain like an arrow. The little birds beat frantically inside of her core, and she pictured Daniel’s mouth pressed against hers. She clapped her jaw shut and swallowed.

“It’s also about oppression, hoarding
, and greed. It’s not clear to me, though, whether this is yours or another’s. It could be your obstruction.”

“Jason
? He’s not greedy in the least. He’s more like…like he can’t hold onto anything.”

“Greed isn’t just about things, dearie.” Betty gave her a pointed look.

Ignoring the ill-omened words, Marissa stood up, her purse brushing the cards. Another card flew off the countertop and landed face down. Marissa stooped to pick it up and handed it back to Betty. “Thanks for the reading, Betty. It sounds like it’s going to be a hell of a year.”

Betty glanced at the card and held it out triumphantly for Marissa to see. Two figures coiled around one another like snakes.
A star shone brightly overhead. “It is that, child. This card is L'Amoureux - the Lovers. For good or for worse, you’re going to be marked by love.”

At 1:25 – an hour later than her stomach would have preferred – Marissa managed to make her way to the front to grab a bite to eat. Crazy Betty
and a customer conferred over a Tarot reading. Marissa shook her head. Crazy Betty was the only one in the whole place who would not, could not, be reprimanded.
Must be her age.
She, on the other hand, was fair game for Cara Giannola, Marissa’s bossy, control freak of a supervisor. When Marissa entered the back room this morning, Cara tapped her watch and crooked her finger, indicating that she come in and meet with her RFN, an acronym that Cara often used – Right Fucking Now.

“Close the door behind you,” Cara said, without looking up. “We need that McCarthy account done RFN, as in
yesterday.
And we need the ad specs emailed to John Jacobs Clothier. And meet with accounting to go over the status of the Shirtless Boyz account. We may need to postpone their ad until they pony up. And since you’re late, you’ll be making up the time later tonight, right, Ms. Engles?” She pounded two sheets of paper between the stapler.

Marissa wondered if that was supposed to be her head getting stapled. “Yes’m,” she mumbled
, but Cara never heard her, or if she did, she didn’t acknowledge. That’s what Cara was like – you either said something interesting worth acknowledging or you didn’t. Most of the time you didn’t.

As she exited into the crisp
spring air, a floral delivery truck pulled up to the curb. She paused to see a uniformed man leap from the truck, trot to the back, retrieve one of the largest floral arrangements she had ever seen, and head for her office. He zipped past her, nearly knocking her over.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, steadying the huge vase.

“Who’s the lucky recipient? I work there,” she said, smiling.

“A gal named Marissa Engles.”

Marissa’s heart leaped up into her throat, and a shy smile crept along her cheeks. “That’s me.”

“Oh.” The man paused for a moment and looked at her. “Lucky lady. I was picking up my second round of deliveries when the guy came in. He was intense. He handpicked every stem in this arrangement, right down to the Baby’s Breath. Usually customers just poi
nt to a picture, pay, and leave.” He glanced down at the card. “He also wrote a virtual book. No little scribbled note for this guy. I had loaded up the truck and was ready to go when he finally finished with your card. Where do you want them?”

The tiny birds
batted against her insides, seeking escape. Her body ignited with excitement. “Um, bring them in and put them on the counter. I’m going to need a crane to get them into my car.”

“Yeah, he was insistent that you get these here. He sent another bunch to your home.”

A warm flush spread through Marissa’s cheeks. “Well, I’m not there. What do you do with them when the person isn’t there?”

“Oh, if the porch is safe enough, we leave them there. Otherwise, we come back later. Don’t worry. Now, can I put these down? They’re heavy.”

Marissa held the door open for the guy. He placed them on the front counter, nodded, and zipped away.

Crazy Betty and the customer looked up from their
Tarot reading and gaped. “Lord, lord, lord, child, did I tell it right or what?” The elderly woman heaved her body up from her seat at the counter. “What does the card say? Give an old woman a thrill.” The movement stirred her lungs into violent protest. She pressed her stiff white handkerchief to her mouth until the coughs subsided. “Buddy, Buddy, Buddy, the pathway is clear.” Her eyes rolled up in her head and then settled back into position like cherries in a slot machine. “And the angels are ready. You’ll be fine.”

“You might want to get that cough checked out, Betty. Just in case it means that you’re sick.”

Crazy Betty waved a hand in her direction. “The card, child. Read the card.”

Marissa plucked the card from the little plastic holder, slid her finger under the flap
, and extracted the beautiful contents. The fiber-specked paper appeared handmade. The cover read, “A birthday is a wondrous day. Yours is especially wondrous. It’s the day we met.” She swallowed as she read this and then opened the flap. A thick, folded piece of lightweight, handmade paper fell from the card. Marissa caught it between her fingertips before it floated to the floor. “I want to read this one in private, if you don’t mind,” she said to the two women before her.

“Can you read us the
big card? When I was a young gal, Mr. Sondheim – he was my first husband – he would leave me notes in my mailbox. It was so romantic. Did I ever tell you about the first note ne ever sent me?”

“Yes, I believe you did.”
Six times, so far.
Marissa stared at the elegant script before her. It says, “Mi corazón, we have met at last.” Her face reddened. “That’s it.”

“That’s it?”
Crazy Betty said, fanning her face with her hand. “Child, you’re going to give me the vapors. He’s telling you that this is destiny. You two were meant to meet right now.”

“Maybe,” Marissa began.

The door to the back swished open, and Cara stuck her head out. She shot a laser beam glare at Marissa, tapped her watch, and disappeared.

“I’ve got to go next door and get a sandwich before I faint.”

“I’ve got me some leftover pork chops you can have.”

“Thanks, Betty
, but pork chops aren’t my thing.”

“You kids these days and your diets. When I was your age, I ate nothing but meat and potatoes. It kept me from getting the vapors on the farm.
I didn’t make it this far because I ate like a rabbit, I can assure you of that.”

“I just don’t like pork. But thanks.”

Marissa hustled next door to buy lunch, zipped back to her office, and chewed on the sandwich at her desk. The card and insert were kept tucked inside her purse until she could spare a moment. The beautiful flowers sat next to her monitor while she worked. An exquisite array of colors and blooms, she imagined him choosing each stem. The thought made her smile. From time to time, she’d ascend from her swamp of tasks, ponder the flowers, grin, and resume working. She had to get this stuff out the virtual door by end of day.

At
three, Cara stuck her head around the cubicle. “I’ve got a meeting until four, then another meeting at 4:15, then a dinner meeting with a client. I trust you to get this to me
today
whether I’m here or not. I’ll check my email before I go to bed. Any changes will have to be done first thing tomorrow
.
” Without waiting for a reply, she whirled away.

“Whew,” Marissa said.
When she heard the door to Cara’s office shut, she withdrew the card. Her fingertips moved slowly on the rough paper. “Handmade paper is so cool,” she said. Savoring the moment, she opened the card and unfolded the three page insert. Her eyes soaked in the elegant script. “How do people write like that?” She fingered the words flowing down the first page. Then she read.

The Beckoning of Beautiful Things

What person does not a beauty love?

Mine eyes except me not.

When beauty called I sought to please,

Until my heart was shot.

Of bronze and gold my yard explodes,

The images of love gone past.

But now my heart rejoices once more,

For love
returns at last.

Marissa puzzled over the poem which hinted at heartbreak and hope. The tiny birds within swirled in a typhoon of sensation.
Want.
She swallowed and closed her eyes for a second.
Taking a deep breath, she
read further down the page. A list of flowers and their meaning followed.

Alyssum (Lobularia maritima)
– Worth beyond beauty (you)

Baby’s
Breath (Gypsophila paniculata) – Everlasting love (is it possible? I want to find out.)

Bird of paradise (Strelitzia reginae)
– Magnificence (you)

Cherry blossom (Prunus cerasus)
– Impermanence (everything)

Everlasting pea (Lathyrus latifolius)
– Lasting pleasure (is it possible? I want to explore.)

Dogwood (Cornus)
– Love undiminished by adversity (yes)

Gladiolus (Gladiolus)
– You pierce my heart (yes)

Jasmine, Carolina (Gelsemium sempervirens)
– Separation (Something I must do from my past)

Jasmine, Indian (Jasminum
multiflorum) – Attachment (Something I must guard against)

Rose, purple (Rosa)
– Enchantment (you)

Stock (Malcolmia maritima)
– You will always be beautiful to me (yes)

Tuberose (Polianthes tuberosa)
– Dangerous pleasures

The last
two words stilled the fluttering aviary inside, strangling them into quiet.
Dangerous pleasures. Why didn’t he add anything to those words? Had he simply forgotten? And what were dangerous pleasures? Weren’t all pleasures worthwhile? That’s what Jason kept hammering into her head.
She recalled a recent conversation.

“Baby-doll, the ancient scriptures tell us to seek enlightenment through pleasure.”

“What if I don’t want to be enlightened?”

“Who doesn’t want to be enlightened?”

“Oh, I’d say most of the planet. Have you looked around lately?”

He’d scoffed at that part. “So that’s where we come in, baby-doll. We seek, we practice, we master, we share.”

“I’m not training to become a teacher of Tantra, Jason. That’s your thing.”

“But you’re so good at this. You’re a natural when you let go. You just need to let go more often.”

And then they’d argued, her telling him it was not his job to be her instructor, and him telling her that it was his life mission to teach and instruct all around him. She shook her head at the memory.

She carefully placed the top two sheets of paper on her desk and read the third.

“There are five distinct gemstones in the bottom of the vase. Each stone has a unique meaning. Each stone will evoke a different ability in you. It’s up to you to discern the meaning.”

Abilities? Abilities?
Like being able to see faces in the water? Faces that chill and frighten?  
She eyed the stones holding the flowers in place. There were about five inches of clear, round, glass marbles at the bottom. Sure enough, she spied a few different colored, shiny stones interspersed throughout. She couldn’t really discern them through the water and stems.
How will I solve this puzzle?

She wandered into the break room, careful to not go past Cara’s office, and retrieved the newspapers from the trash.
The head of the graphics department, an old coot who preferred to read the newspaper rather than read the news online, faithfully subscribed to several.

She snuck back to her cubicle and began plucking the flowers out one by one.
I’ll never get it to look this good, but…
When the flowers were arranged in neat rows on newspaper on the floor of the cubicle, she pushed up her sleeves and dug for the colored stones. The stones had been polished to glistening. It was easy to find one faceted clear red gem, one dark blood-hued gem, one golden orb, and a beautiful blue and gold flecked beauty she knew was lapus lazuli. Where was the fifth stone?

She swished her hand around in the water, finding nothing distinct. Had he forgotten one? Had the florist removed it? She began taking out handfuls of the
clear orbs and laying them on the newspaper. When she had taken out everything, she examined the sparkling marbles. “They all look the same to me,” she muttered. She squinted, eyeing each one.
That one…right there…that one looks different.
That one that had tiny spider web veins running through it. She picked it up between her index finger and thumb.

Mi corazón.

The words spun through her brain, making her drop the crystal sphere. The gemstone rolled across the floor. She lunged for it before it whirled out of her cubicle.

“You alright in there? What are you doing?”
a co-worker called.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I just spread my research out on the floor. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” he said dubiously.

When her hand made contact with the crystalline sphere, the voice whispered through her head.

Mi corazón.

“Who’s there?” she whispered.

Can you hear me, Marissa?

“Daniel? Where are you?” she hissed. Laughter filled her head. “Where are you? What’s going on?”

I’m in your head. You’ve found the Herkimer diamond. Good.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you talking to me?” her co-worker called out. “You’re going to have to speak up if you are.”

“No. You know me, always talking to myself. I’ll be quiet.” Again the laughter whirled through her mind like a warm breeze.