Ask a Shadow to Dance (16 page)

She could not dare to hope it could be over so quickly. “Will he be greatly impaired?”

Doctor Samuels smiled. “You’ll see differences, of course. With Jacob’s mind the way it was, the only significant change will be in his ability to get around. I would guess he’ll need help walking from now on. And his speech may be slurred. In time, it could get better. No way to predict for sure.” He handed her a bottle of medicine. She guessed it to be Laudanum. “Give him a spoonful of this tonight before you go to bed, and tomorrow morning, noon and night again. It’ll help him rest. Don’t try to force him to speak or move. His system needs time to recover.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Call me if he worsens.”

Aunt Portia showed him to the door. Now that the crisis was past, Lisette began to shake. Before she knew it, she was trembling all over,
then the sobs came as the horror of it all washed over her. Andrew came immediately and drew her into his arms, then over to the sofa. He rocked back and forth, holding her, saying nothing until the weeping was spent and she regained control.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He released her, then withdrew back to the hearth. “I came to apologize again and ask if you’d decided to forgive me.” He glanced at her. “It all seems quite petty in the face of such grave illness.”

She realized she was responding to Andrew’s words and reminded herself of his past behavior. If she allowed herself to succumb to this new personality, she might let her guard down, with disastrous consequences. She decided to see how far he was willing to go in this little charade—if, indeed, that’s what it was.

“My father’s illness is unfortunate, to say the least, but we shall cope with it. Thank you for your help.” In effect, she had dismissed him. She could tell by the expression on his face he wasn’t ready to be dismissed.

“While I’m here, Lisette, perhaps we could talk more about my father’s wishes.”

The weasel was showing his true colors. He would take advantage of her distraction with her father’s health to attain his own warped goals. If she shouted her indignation and repugnance at his tactics, he might take the revenge he had promised before. She had to be careful.

“My head is aching terribly, Andrew. Can’t we please wait until another time to talk? I’m sure Aunt Portia and I have a long night ahead of us.” If she had to ask him pointedly to leave, she would. Perhaps he would pretend to be a gentleman for a while longer and leave on his own.

He didn’t like it one bit. She could see it in his eyes. The fact that he’d helped with her father had to be viewed through the context of his treachery. She would be grateful for his help but was determined it would gain him no advantage elsewhere.

“Very well, Lisette. I shall call on you tomorrow. I hope your father will be much improved by then and you will feel better as well.”

“Perhaps so.” She didn’t show him to the door. He went on his own, closing it rather forcefully behind him.

Aunt Portia screamed Lisette’s name from the top of the stairs.

Lisette rushed to answer. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. He spoke to me! It’s a miracle!”

Lisette went upstairs, breathing a prayer of thanks, hoping with all her heart this crisis, too, would pass.

* * * * *

Sedonia’s sister, Selma, arrived just before bedtime to help care for Jacob during the night. It would seem he had suffered few effects from the seizure and even sipped some broth at Aunt Portia’s urging before taking the spoonful of Laudanum the doctor had prescribed and falling into a deep sleep. At least they would be able to rest during the night.

Before going to bed, she slipped upstairs quietly to her secret room and stood at the south windows, gazing toward the river. Mist had settled on the surface of the water and among the branches of the maples.

“David, where are you?” she whispered.

Chapter Nine

David could hardly concentrate. The impending hypnosis session that afternoon had him so agitated and anxious he could hardly finish a coherent sentence. It was a good thing Greg was taking care of the office. When Joe came by to pick David up at three in his Jeep Cherokee, his ankle was much better so he left the crutches at home.

“Hey, Bro! Are you ready for the séance?”

Leave it to Joe to turn the whole thing into a sideshow attraction. “Look, Joe—”

“I know. I’m sorry. The idea of your trying an out-of-body experience has me freaked out, that’s all. Blows my mind.”

“And you don’t believe it?”

“Not for a second. But it ought to be one hell of a show!”

David listened while Joe chattered on and on about Shirley MacLaine and Zen Buddhism and a bunch of way-out stuff he’d read about since their meeting with Bob Townsend yesterday. David would never admit to Joe he’d thought about doing similar reading. He couldn’t have his brother thinking they were alike after all these years. It could ruin his reputation as a sensible guy. Actually, their individuality was intact. David had thought about checking out books on time travel and past lives and all the new age stuff, but his car was still at the Peabody, so he had to be content with immersing himself in Memphis history. The only books he had at home on any remotely similar subjects to time travel were science fiction novels—not exactly the best sources for a quick study.

As happened more and more these days, his thoughts turned to Lisette. Joe chattered about the “astral plane” and whether David would see it if the hypnosis worked. Assuming, of course, the astral plane could be “seen.” Lisette was a much nicer subject to think about.

David knew enough about human development and aging to know she was twenty-eight to thirty years
old, give or take a year either way. Her desire to travel and see the world was certainly atypical for a woman of the 1880s, but she didn’t fit the stereotype of an old-fashioned woman in other ways as well. He couldn’t say exactly why, but it seemed that way to him. Something about her made his blood race and his breathing get ragged and heavy. And the desire he felt when he was with her, or when he thought about her, was something new and fiery and completely unique in his life since Fran died. He’d loved Fran with all his heart, and they’d been passionate about each other. But it was a quiet passion. Not like this. With Fran, making love had been warm and secure and homey. With Lisette, he had a feeling it would be more like fire and lightning. Explosive. It was beginning to sound like something out of a romance novel. And what these thoughts were doing to his system were definitely grist for the romance mill.

Since Fran died, he had dated off and on, with no particular interest in any one woman. Shawna had kept him supplied with hopefuls, and a couple of them had been attractive enough that he’d dated briefly from time to time.
Then, about eight months ago, Shawna introduced him to Candy. It had taken six months for him to even think about taking Candy to bed. Then, when she initiated intimacy, he was unable to go through with it. He guessed it was because he didn’t want casual sex. Only companionship. But Candy had expected more from David than he was ready to give. He had to admit, Candy was beginning to mean too much to him. Then why had he wanted to end the relationship? Something about it wasn’t right, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. It could be their relationship was too similar to what he’d had with Fran. No explosives.

Making love to Lisette
. He tried to imagine it. Would she be appalled at being touched and kissed? Another stereotype. Back then, “decent” women considered behaving passionately unladylike, didn’t they? He remembered when she turned to face him on the deck of the riverboat. The image of her hair blowing around her face, high color in her cheeks, fire in her eyes, led David to picture her lying beneath him, her hair splayed over the pillow, his fingers combing the curls, her face flushed with desire.

“Hey, Bro, we’re almost there. Are you with me?”

David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m here. Sorry. Lost in thought. Turn that air conditioner colder, would you? It’s hot in here.”

Joe nodded and turned the thermostat to sixty degrees. “I don’t have to ask what about.”

A few minutes later they parked, got out of the Jeep and walked toward the building.

“I just realized you’re walking again without the crutches. I thought Greg said you’d need a week on those things.”

“Greg was playing doctor for Lana’s benefit. I’m fine. We’ll pick up my car when we leave here.”

“Let me ask you something.
When you went back to her time—at the Peabody—was it November there too?”

David hadn’t thought about it. “I don’t know. There’s nothing that says that it has to be November there if it’s November here.”

“What’s the theory we’re going on?”

David motioned to the receptionist they’d arrived. “Einstein. All times exist at the same time. Now that I think about it, the Peabody lobby wasn’t decorated for Christmas then, as it is now.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. Commercialism has accelerated the holidays since then.

“You’ll have to ask her what day it is—and what year.” His forehead creased.

David could tell a light bulb had gone off somewhere in Joe’s brain. “What is it, Joe?”

“Where can we find one of those universal calendars? You
know, the ones where you can figure out which day of the week any particular day was on—or will be on.”

“Encyclopedia maybe?
Almanac? What are you thinking?”

“Well, the riverboat that disappeared—”

“The
Cajun Star
.”

“What day did it disappear?”

“November  21, 1885.”

“What day of the week was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, November 21 of this year will be on a Saturday. What if—”

“—the
Star
sailed on a Saturday? Is that what you’re thinking?”

“If so, then it’s probably the same day of the year and of the week in Lisette’s time as it is here.”

“Joe, you may be on to something. If there’s a year in the 1880s that has the same days as two thousand and nine—”

“Then we’ll know for sure how many days you have before the riverboat sails.”

“Joe, you’re a genius.”

“I’ve always thought so. Maybe Bob has an almanac?”

David asked the receptionist if she had anything with a universal calendar. She searched a few minutes, then handed him a dictionary with one in the back. They used the formula to find the years with the same layout of days as 2009. It didn’t take long.

“Eighteen eighty-five.
And today is—”

“November eighteenth. Damn, Joe. That means we have only three days before Lisette disappears on that riverboat.”

“You too, remember? That doesn’t give us much time, Bro.”

“I know. This has to work. If not …”

“It will, David. It has to.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in this new age stuff.”

“Hey, I’ve been known to be wrong once or twice.”

“At least.”

The receptionist opened the sliding glass window above her desk. “Doctor Stewart, you can come in now.”

“Thanks.” David laid the dictionary on her desk then followed her to the office with Joe close behind.

“I don’t have to come, David. If you want me to wait outside or go on home—”

“Are you kidding? I have to have a witness if we pull this off.” He stopped and spoke quietly so the receptionist wouldn’t hear. “Thanks for coming, Joe.
Really. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Anytime.
I’m here for you, David. You know that.”

“I know.” They went back to Bob’s office. Nerves hit him again. He needed a distraction.
“Hey, Joe. You never told me what Shawna thinks about all this.”

“I didn’t tell her. She’s busy with her thesis.
Type, type, type, all the time. I say ‘Hi, honey, I’m home,’ and she says, ‘That’s nice, dear.’ I say, ‘We’re having the dog for dinner—roasted,’ she says, ‘That’s nice, dear.’ If I’d told her, ‘David’s going to do an out-of-body thing at the shrink’s office tonight’—”

“’That’s nice, dear.’ I think
it’s best we don’t tell her.”

“Unless it works.
Then she’ll yell, ‘Why didn’t you tell me!’ Women.”

“Yeah.”
Would Lisette be like Shawna? David had to admit he didn’t actually know, but suspected she wouldn’t. After a lady-like pause, she’d held him there in the Peabody lobby, the same way he was holding her. No reticence, no reservation. If her aunt hadn’t interrupted when she did, he had a feeling Lisette would have kissed back too. It seemed hotter in this building than it had the day before. He’d have to confine his thoughts to a strictly professional level.

Bob Townsend opened the door and invited them to come in.

“Well, this is it, Bro. Fish or cut bait.”

“You know I don’t like to fish.”

“You never catch anything. Fish love to see you coming.”

“A perfectly good fishing trip can be ruined by catching something.”