The Rosaries (Crossroads Series) (28 page)

He really liked
London
. If it wasn’t for the fact that his focus was directed on other more important tasks, he would not have minded to do a little sightseeing of his own, away from the tourist traps – that’s how one can really taste the full flavor of the place.

He went through Trafalgar Square, and stood now in Piccadilly Circus, staring at the multitude of strangers walking by him without even seeing him. Power was close at hand – he could smell it in the air, and that alone was enough to get his blood pumping. His official goal – the excuse he used to go - was to spend some quality time with his wife, but there was so much more connected to his decision! The rosary was near. His whole body was electrified at the mere thought of holding it, and he savored the moments that separated him from victory; he grinned with the same arrogant satisfaction of the hare sure to reach the finish line.

By the time they arrived back at the hotel, Melody’s emotions were tangled into a knot, and she didn’t know what to think. She trusted Mario with her life, yet every cell of her being was screaming that something was wrong. Her mind was too terrified to conceive the possibility he could be unfaithful to her.

He lay down the moment they got to the room. “Wow! This was quite a day, wasn’t it?” He said with a smile, more as an affirmation to himself than as a question to Melody.

“It really was,” Melody answered, her heart still flip-flopping uneasily in her chest, “Olivia and Graham seemed very happy. It’s always good to see couples in love.”

“Hopefully they will be as happy as we are.” Mario interjected with a smile.

“Are you happy with me, Mario?”

He looked at her with a halfway amused look in his face. “Of course I’m happy with you. What on earth would make you ask something like that? I’ve never been this happy in my life, Honey.”

Mario’s reassuring words were a balm for Melody’s trembling heart. “I’m just asking, Mario, no reason at all.” She didn’t say anything more for a minute, which caused Mario to look at her with a mixture of confusion and worry painted on his handsome face.

“Is something wrong Melody? What’s bothering you?”

Melody tried her hardest to stop tears from rising up and spilling out, but the urge to cry out her frustration was too strong, and she quickly gave in to the need of releasing the pressure she felt. “Have you ever cheated on me, Mario?”

“What are you talking about, Melody? Of course not.”

By now tears were streaming freely down Melody’s face. “You are never home, Mario, and then I hear you telling someone that there is a lot you need to explain but you are afraid. Were you really talking to Branson earlier?”

Mario got up quickly and rushed to hug Melody, who was now standing by the bathroom door looking at him with pleading eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, Sweetheart…Branson is having some issues with someone at the office, but even if he has every right to be angry, the situation must be handled by internal affairs and it takes time. I discovered some interesting things right before leaving for this trip which I haven’t shared with
him yet, but I have to be careful about what I say because Branson can be quite impulsive and would probably rush into things and talk to the wrong people. I don’t want to lose Branson.”

As Mario’s soft words filled the space between them, Melody felt relief pouring through her whole body and spreading down to her limbs. “I’m so sorry, Mario…I don’t know why I am so insecure. I have dealt with betrayal before I met you; I suppose some of those wounds are still not fully healed.”

Mario held her tight and Melody buried her face into his chest, deeply inhaling his masculine scent mixed with a touch of Eternity. “It’s all good, Sweetheart. We’ve been so busy we haven’t had the chance to talk much lately. I love you, Melody, you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted.” He picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently on the white, cool sheets. They made love for a long time, and all along Mario whispered how much he loved her. After they were spent, and sleep finally claimed Mario, Melody lay awake in the darkness of the room, unable to switch off. 

Although Mario’s words and obvious physical attraction had set her mind at ease, she couldn’t let go of the nagging feeling that kept her heart in a tight squeeze, so she got out of bed, and tiptoed to Mario’s suitcase in the closet. She listened to his breathing to be sure he was asleep before she quietly took the bag out of the closet and into the bathroom.

Her heart was pounding against the confines of her chest, and her hands were shaking as she rummaged carefully through his things. Her sense of unease increased by the minute, as her frantic search didn’t produce any books, but her hand finally closed around something rectangular in shape, rigid and velvety to the touch. She pulled out her find and saw that she was holding a jewelry case; when she opened it, she stared at a beautiful necklace of fine white gold and sparkling sapphires.

I just wanted to bring back something…

Melody’s heart sank. Suddenly Mario’s reassuring words and his gentle lovemaking felt as if they took place light years before, in a time when Mario still loved her and she was the happiest woman in the world.

Phillip Sanders leafed through the hotel’s directory trying to decide what he and Angela should do the next day. They briefly met Natalie after dinner, but couldn’t visit with her for very
long since she had several things to finalize before the art show, and for the first time in years he regretted not being closer to his daughter while she grew up. They had become estranged over time, or maybe, as the sad realization of it suddenly hit him, they had always been. Perhaps never consciously, Phillip knew that his affection toward Natalie hurt Catherine, and he had gradually eased himself off the ties that connected him to his daughter. It was time to make amends to her, and also to Angela, even if he couldn’t shake the attraction he felt for his beautiful, young secretary. The list of his priorities really needed to be rearranged – Phillip was suddenly aware of what he needed to do, as he watched Angela sleeping peacefully. He still had time to change the cards on the table.

Natalie worked late into the night, which wasn’t really a problem since she couldn’t sleep anyway. Her big chance of being recognized as an artist was only two days away, and her excitement was mixed with a growing anxiety. One of the things that pleased her most was that her paintings were going to be exhibited right beside Aunt Catherine’s – for the first time in her life, Natalie felt like she finally belonged with at least one person in her family. Even if she and Aunt Catherine never had the opportunity to develop a relationship while her aunt was alive, their mutual love for the fine arts would unite them forever.

Lakeisha
sat in her bedroom while Natalie worked, staring at the dancing flame of the candle as its occasional flickering broke the continuity of darkness. The ghost of Catherine’s daughter was present. Some of the earthly pain the young woman felt before her death was still lingering in the energy that surrounded her manifestation.
Lakeisha
knew that for spirits – even those who have a hard time crossing over – it takes tremendous effort to appear to humans. Their vibrations are higher than those of incarnated beings, and although they move within the confines of the same space, they function in different dimensions, and are usually unable to communicate across the barrier that separates the two worlds.

Suzanne – such was the name of the lovely creature sitting across from
Lakeisha
– described how sadly painful her earthly life had been, and how much resentment she had toward her mother for abandoning her, the whole time she was alive. After dying she learned that her
mother was also leading a tortured existence, and had never chosen to abandon her of her own will. As her feelings of resentment evaporated she was now free to cross over, but something held her back; she didn’t know the reason, but accepted the wait as part of the process. She was energetically attracted to Tom’s house, and had no idea what her task there could be; all the old man in a pinstriped suit told her was that her role would become apparent to her as things continued to unfold. As she sat across from
Lakeisha
right now, Suzanne felt that something blocked the woman and she felt compelled to touch her head.

The moment Suzanne touched her,
Lakeisha
felt something she never felt before – a door was suddenly opened, and she saw Suzanne’s life flash in front of her eyes. She saw her as a little girl, shy and severely lonely, playing in her room alone while her adoptive mother read book after book on child rearing, also alone in the living room. She saw Suzanne as a teenager ready to enter Grammar school, and felt the crushing sense of overall rejection the young girl experienced; she lived the first day Suzanne used drugs, and the haunting feeling of numbness that ensued from that experience.

As Suzanne’s life continued to flash in front of her eyes,
Lakeisha
saw a young boy - Suzanne’s first boyfriend most likely - and was overwhelmed by the fleeting sense of belonging they hungrily shared. And suddenly, she felt something stirring in her womb, a baby gently fluttering its tiny limbs in its first home, and was overcome with a feeling of deep love and anguish. Suzanne had wanted her baby, but knew her parents would never accept her choice. She couldn’t let the baby go, and decided that if they couldn’t be together in life, then they would be together in death. The answer to her problem came in the form of a disposable syringe.

Lakeisha
wept. She cried for the two children who never had the chance to spread their wings and fly away. She cried for Catherine, who experienced the same pain her own daughter lived through, and she cried for herself, for she would never know the incredible love of feeling a child of her own grow in her womb. And suddenly, something else happened. The fog that entrapped her mind in the past weeks lifted and she saw the face of her attacker, the anger and fear in his eyes. In a moment that felt like an eternity,
Lakeisha
stared into the face of pure evil. The worst part of all was that she knew him all too well.

Chapter Eighteen

The day of the show finally arrived. It was a day Natalie would not soon forget, for various reasons. She could hardly sleep the night before, too exhilarated to relax, her mind past the realm of nervous. Before the gallery opened that morning, she walked back and forth in front of the paintings, mentally preparing for any questions that might arise. The press had been alerted about new, previously unreleased paintings by Marcie Walker, so the buzz was on and Natalie was a tangle of jumping nerves.

“So, are you ready young lady?” Tom surprised her from behind, “That’s an unusual necklace you’re wearing.”

“Yes, it was Aunt Catherine’s,” she replied, “She bought it when she thought she was going to meet her daughter, and instructed me to give it to her if I found her. Unfortunately, as you know, that will not be possible.”

“It’s alright, Natalie. I’m sure that Catherine would be proud to know you are wearing it on such a special day.”

Natalie touched the rosary gently, stroking the cross, “I hope so, Tom. I’m just sorry I can’t honor her last wish.”

In that moment, a large spider crept out from behind one of the sheets that covered the paintings, and Natalie jumped. It stopped halfway across the floor and remained still for a few seconds, before it resumed its journey toward the other side of the room and disappeared out of sight.

“Ugh! That was so gross! I don’t like spiders,” she told Tom crunching her nose.

“My late wife believed spiders are magical creatures, and always allowed them to go free in our home. She would never kill one or let anyone else do so, for that matter. It was almost as if she welcomed them wherever she was,” he said, “I can almost hear her now…”Spiders are the power that keeps us all in balance, they weave the fibers of energy that enable circumstances; Insects believe the web is a flower as they fly around, and they don’t know that what they perceive as sustenance will mark the end of their existence.”

“That’s kind of sad,” Natalie interjected softly.

“It is, but like everything else, it is part of the cycle of life, Natalie.”

“I guess that’s true…think of all the people who run around always wanting to achieve more – what they believe will buy them happiness will likely be the same thing that will lead them to an early death.”

“Exactly. Well, let’s get those paintings ready, Love; the show will start before you know it.”

“Oh God, Tom, I don’t know that I can go through with this…just thinking about people looking at my paintings makes my stomach flutter; the thought of art critics lurking in the crowd makes me want to throw up.”

Tom laughed heartily, “You will be fine, Natalie. Your paintings are wonderful, and today will mark your debut into the world of fine arts.”

“My grandmother always said that a good breakfast will chase the demons that cause anxiety, Natalie,”
Lakeisha
said entering the beautifully adorned door. “You really need to get something to eat and, maybe even get a little rest before the show. I’m sure you have checked those paintings a hundred times by now -- they are fine.”