‘Adam, I don’t even know if I do love him.’
Chapter Fourteen
‘
C
allie, I am so furious with you!’
Callie nearly groaned at the sound of her sister’s steel-and-honey voice. Gloria was the last person she wanted to deal with. She finished stocking the last few packets of incense and turned to face Gloria.
‘Gloria, I’m sorry.’
‘As well you should be!’ Gloria stood there dressed in a tight, pale green suit and matching shoes, her hands planted firmly on her hips. From the over-bright expression in her eyes, Callie could tell that Gloria had downed one too many martinis that afternoon. Shaken, not stirred, of course.
‘Look, come upstairs, and we’ll talk.’ Callie glanced at Tess, who stood behind the counter with a grin on her face as she examined Gloria’s puffy, blonde hair, inch-long fingernails and too-tight clothing. ‘Tess, I’m sorry, but I’ll be back shortly.’
Gloria’s head whipped around to fix Tess with a piercing look. ‘Tess? Are you responsible for enslaving my sister in this place?’
Tess laughed. Callie grabbed Gloria by the arm and forced her to walk up the stairs to her flat.
‘Stop making a scene,’ she ordered. ‘Didn’t you get my messages?’
Gloria held up two fingers and stumbled on the stairs. ‘Two messages!’ she sniffed. ‘Almost a month you’ve been gone and you have the balls to leave me two lousy phone messages. Have you forgotten I’m your sister? I accepted you even though your mother was a grocery clerk! I introduced you to Logan! I got you involved in the Ladies Guild and the historical –’
‘Gloria, be quiet!’ Callie snapped. She yanked her sister into her flat and closed the door. She pushed Gloria down on to the bed and put on a pot of coffee. ‘Now, if you just calm down, I can explain everything.’
Gloria drew herself up with dignity and patted her hair. ‘Well, you don’t have to manhandle me, you know.’ She glanced around the room and wrinkled her nose. ‘This is where you live? This is a shoe box, for God’s sake. And not even Gucci!’
She screeched with laughter at her own joke. Callie muttered a curse and sat down at the narrow desk. A headache began to throb at her temples.
‘Are you going to calm down?’
‘Why should I be calm?’ Gloria retorted. ‘I’m your sister! How could you leave me in the dark like that?’ Her blue eyes suddenly filled with tears and her lower lip quivered. ‘I was so worried about you, Callie. I thought you’d been murdered and left to die in a gutter with old cigarette butts and empty vodka bottles!’ She made a great show of sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. ‘Speaking of vodka, do you have any around here?’
‘We’re not speaking of vodka and no, I don’t.’ Callie poured a cup of strong, black coffee and handed it to Gloria. ‘Drink this.’
Gloria sniffed at the brew distastefully. ‘Ugh. I don’t drink coffee. It’s so bad for your health.’
‘Start drinking it now,’ Callie suggested, pushing the mug towards her. ‘Now, listen. I said I’m sorry I didn’t contact you more often, but I’ve really needed some time alone.’
Gloria rolled her eyes and sipped daintily at the coffee. ‘God, Callie, who are you, Greta Garbo? A husband like Logan and you need time
alone
?’
‘I don’t expect you to understand.’
Gloria’s lower lip quivered again. ‘You never want me to understand. I try and try to understand you, but you’re an . . . an enigma to me, Callie, that’s what you are.’
‘Look, Logan and I are figuring things out between ourselves,’ Callie said. She didn’t think this was the best time to tell Gloria that it looked as if her relationship with her husband was drawing to a close. Nor how much the thought pained her. ‘I promise I’ll tell you if there are any major developments.’
‘Callie, you must go back to him!’ Gloria wailed. ‘This is so terrible for him. Everyone is gossiping about you two, and of course that means my name is being tossed about like a beachball.’
‘And what a pity that is,’ Callie muttered. She bent to remove her sister’s shoes and eased Gloria’s legs up on the bed. ‘I think you need to take a nap.’
Gloria put the back of her hand against her forehead as if she were about to collapse. ‘Yes, perhaps that would be best. I’m so overcome by all this. It’s just devastating for me, you understand.’
‘I understand,’ Callie assured her. ‘I’ll come back to check on you.’
‘Go to see Logan!’ Gloria called as Callie opened the door. ‘We mustn’t continue with this nonsense, Callie, because what if Ted decides to run for mayor? Well, then we’ll just be in all sorts of scandalous –’
Callie shut the door, effectively blocking out the sounds of Gloria’s voice, and went back downstairs.
‘Wow, that was your sister?’ Tess asked.
‘Half-sister,’ Callie admitted. ‘Sorry again. She has a thing for James Bond and vodka martinis.’
Tess chuckled. ‘She’s a riot. Do you think she’d want to be in my
Sexology
show?’
‘I suspect she’s in her own
Sexology
show,’ Callie replied dryly. She glanced at her watch. ‘Listen, I have an appointment with Abiona at noon, so I might be back late.’
‘You can take the afternoon off if you work for me tomorrow morning,’ Tess suggested.
‘Great, thanks.’ Callie picked up her bag and fished around for her keys.
‘Why are you going to see Abiona again?’ Tess asked.
Callie didn’t want to lie to her friend, but she also wasn’t willing to tell her about her experience with Logan at the voodoo ceremony.
‘She’s going to give me another spell,’ Callie said vaguely.
‘I thought the one you had was working.’
‘Yes, but I don’t think it’s strong enough.’
Tess’s eyes widened with excitement. ‘Callie! You’re not going to give Logan a rash, are you?’
‘No, no. I would never do anything that might hurt him. I have to go, Tess. I’ll let you know what happens.’
She hurried outside and walked to Abiona’s house, shoving thoughts of her sister out of her mind. Summer had really started to heat up the air, and tourists were beginning to meander around the streets, entranced by the mixture of architecture and aura of the Old South that pervaded the city. Callie glanced around automatically for Logan, relieved when she didn’t see him or his car anywhere nearby. She knew that he would never hide from her; if he were following her, she would most certainly know about it.
Callie knocked on the priestess’s door and smiled when Abiona opened it. As always, the woman looked stunning in a multicoloured cotton robe and matching headband.
‘Callie, come in, precious.’ She bent to kiss Callie’s cheek. The musky, clean scent of sandalwood rose from her skin.
Callie entered the house, leaving her bag near the door. She followed Abiona into the sanctuary and sat down at the table. The scent of incense hung heavily in the air.
‘Is your mother here?’
‘No, she is not at home.’ Abiona lit a few candles and placed them on the table. ‘May I offer you some tea?’
‘I’d love some, thank you.’ Callie stood and examined one of the small altars. A carved, wooden figure rested inside, and a plank of wood in front of the altar was covered with flowers, nuts, perfume bottles, soap, golden rings, and even a few cosmetics and a mirror. Despite attending the voodoo ceremony, Callie still found herself fascinated by the mysterious religion. ‘Abiona?’
‘Yes?’ Abiona set out two teacups and began to pour.
‘Why do you make these kinds of offerings to the spirits?’
‘The
loas
have very human aspects,’ Abiona explained. ‘In fact, many of them actually used to be humans. They love to eat and drink just as we do. So, we offer them different goods depending on their preferences. For example, the
loa
you are looking at is Erzulie. She is the goddess of love and beauty, so she requires things that will be of use to her vanity.’
Callie sat back down and sipped at the sweet tea. ‘Have you been . . . um, mounted by her?’
Abiona nodded. ‘She is very coquettish, not extreme like Ghede. Grace, beauty and luxury are her trademarks, which is why she is the goddess of love.’
‘Love is a luxury?’
Abiona’s shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug. ‘Anything one does not require to survive is a luxury, I think. One does not physically need love.’
‘Then why do people die of broken hearts?’
Abiona’s face broke into a smile. ‘Perhaps one needs love emotionally, yes? I have never heard of anyone dying from lack of sex.’
Callie’s mouth turned upward. ‘True.’
‘So, tell me, Callie.’ Abiona placed her elbows on the table and leant forward. ‘Do you need love to survive?’
The question startled Callie. ‘I guess so.’
‘And do you love your husband?’
Callie sighed, remembering Adam asking her that very question. As much as she disliked some of Logan’s qualities, she also had deep affection for him that wasn’t easily diminished. ‘I think I . . . I love the person he could be if he tried.’
‘But not the person he is now?’
Callie thought of her last confrontation with Logan and shivered. She disliked that cold steel in him. If she knew for certain that the man during the night of the voodoo ceremony, the one with warmth and curiosity, was really her husband, then she could admit that she loved him. As things stood, she didn’t know that at all. Logan’s temperament had been so constant over the past three years, and now it seemed suddenly mercurial and changing. Callie no longer knew which person he truly was.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I want to love the person he is now, but I’m not even sure who that is.’
‘He came to see me again on Sunday.’
Callie’s eyebrows lifted. ‘He did? That’s not like Logan.’
‘I suspected it wasn’t. I am not at liberty to divulge what he told me, but suffice it to say there is darkness in his life.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Callie muttered.
‘He is a good man, Callie. I hope you know that.’
Callie nodded, wondering about the look in Abiona’s eyes as she talked about Logan. Had something more gone on between them than the priestess was letting on? Callie was mildly surprised to discover that she wasn’t terribly upset by the thought. Abiona was so full of beauty and compassion that Callie could easily understand it if Logan had been taken by her. After all, she herself was enchanted by the other woman.
‘I know he’s a good man,’ she said. ‘I just don’t know who that good man truly is.’
‘You will find out,’ Abiona assured her. ‘Sometimes a
loa
is not the force that mounts a person in order to help resolve issues.’
Callie hesitated to ask her next question, but she felt so extraordinarily comfortable with this woman that she couldn’t resist. ‘Will you tell me what it feels like to be mounted by a
loa
?’
Abiona’s expression grew thoughtful. ‘How can I explain? In the first few moments, it is quite terrifying, because you are aware that you will lose complete control of your own senses. It is a very helpless feeling. You become totally vulnerable, unable to move your own body. The
loa
is moving within you. Spasms can shake and torture you. It is a trace, a psychic leaving of oneself and entrance of another.’
‘Do you remember it?’
‘No. I always have a great feeling of both happiness and exhaustion afterwards, but little memory of the actual experience.’
‘Doesn’t that scare you?’ Callie asked.
‘No, of course not. It is the supreme honour, and I always know that my people will protect me should anything happen.’
She smiled and stood, reaching for a small bowl of henna. ‘For a sceptic, you are very curious about voodoo, yes?’
‘I guess so,’ Callie replied sheepishly. ‘I admit I was sceptical at first, but the ceremony was incredibly powerful.’
‘Yes. You must have felt it when you were dancing.’
‘Felt what?’
‘The losing of yourself to another force.’ Abiona moved to Callie’s side of the table and reached out to unbutton her blouse. ‘I don’t mean a
loa
, but to the rhythms of the dance and the drums.’
Callie nodded, aware of the light brush of Abiona’s fingertips on her skin. ‘Yes, I did feel that.’
Abiona smiled again. ‘I know.’
She was so exquisite when she smiled. Callie felt her heartbeat increase slightly when Abiona leaned in to begin working on the tattoo.
‘Do all voodoo practitioners use henna?’ she asked.
Abiona chuckled, her warm breath brushing Callie’s skin. ‘No. As I said, one of the more traditional methods is cutting and scarring. Some people still do that. Others get real tattoos, but for non-practitioners, we use temporary henna unless someone requests otherwise. Voodoo in the south has changed quite a bit from what it is in Haiti and Africa. We still retain many of the customs, but we have had to adapt to the needs of a new land.’