Between Darkness and Daylight (32 page)

"…We'll be there in about a half, Mom…No, nothing's wrong, we're just a little jet lagged and tired from waiting around so long for another flight…." He watched Ransom, just a step away, leaning back against the car rental's customer service counter with his arms crossed in front of him.

He looked obscenely bored, shaking his head and rolling his eyes up at Zane's bald-face storytelling. Zane reached out and playfully plucked the side of his neck, eliciting a gasp before Ran mouthed he was going to tell Grams on him.

Zane chuckled, holding the cell phone to his chest. "Behave." He put the phone back to his head. "No Mom, we're okay….See you soon. Love 222

Gracie C. McKeever

you." He pressed the Off button and clipped the cell back on his belt before heading outside with Ransom on his heels.

"I don't understand why you didn't level with her. It was just a fender bender. You said it yourself."

"Your grandmother doesn't know the difference between a fender bender and a five-car pileup. If one of her young’uns is involved, it's a disaster one way or the other."

"She has a right to know."

"If it was you, maybe I'd tell her. But it's me and I don't want her to know. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Besides, she's going to be molly-coddling the both of us enough as it is. If either one of us turned up there not perfectly healthy, she'd have a field day." Not that she wouldn't already. She did it whenever she saw her only child, even when he was perfectly healthy. Lord knew what kind of scene she'd make if he'd been hurt in a car accident, minor or not.

Zane started the car, knowing the kid hadn't bought one word of his explanation. He took another shot. "Ran, I can't explain it, but trust me on this. Your grandmother doesn't need to know."

That was the best he could do, beyond telling him the truth. He didn't want to worry Ran anymore than he already had. He didn't want the kid to look at him differently, like a delicate flower that might wilt away any minute.

He got enough of that from his mother and was sure she didn't even realize the lengths to which her coddling went. It was just her way, especially since the transplant, and most assuredly after they'd lost Sage to cancer. No way was Adair Youngblood-Baldwin going to let anything take away her remaining child, not if she could help it, not on her watch.

At Ransom's continued look of confusion and disbelief, Zane hooked an arm around his neck and ruffled his longish hair. "I'm sure you've got your secrets and didn't tell your mother everything. And not that I'm condoning it, but I'm sure you don't tell me everything, especially the stuff I 'don't need to know.'"

Ransom ducked his head, a sheepish expression on his face, but said nothing.

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Zane grinned. If his mom had taught him anything, it was how to have the last word in an argument. "Right. How about we hit the road now?"

* * * *

New rental acquired, they reached Treyburn in a little under a half-hour.

Driving by a tranquil forest preserve, various lakes and streams, and the lush fairways of a nearby golf course on the way to his Mom’s, Zane was reminded of the area where Sage had lived, where Nova lived now.

Not that Newburgh was anywhere near as country-style living as Treyburn, but in a pinch, the large network of winding trails and flourishing community came pretty close, and he was sure Ran was having pangs of nostalgia for his old home in the suburbs as well.

He glanced at the teen when they arrived at his mother's home in a suburb just outside of the Raleigh-Durham, Cary, and Chapel Hill area known as the Triangle, and his heart squeezed at the look of longing on the boy's face. They’d pulled into the driveway out front of the large but cozy garden home a few hours later than originally planned.

In times like these, he wished he could have kept Sage's house, if only to maintain stability for Ransom and not uproot the kid. He told himself he hadn't had a choice. There was no way he could have kept up with the payments, much less dealt with the memories of his sister's spirit and the other ghosts that lingered in every nook and cranny of the house. He'd felt them just from that one visit out to Nova's and wondered if…

She felt them too! That's why she bought the house, why it "felt
right…like home".

The sudden realization made Zane think there really was something to her profession of psychic abilities. And if she was telling the truth about that, and had drawn the sketch of him from second sight, it stood to reason that she had been looking for him. The only questions left were how and why. How had she pinpointed him to New York, and why had she needed to find him so urgently?

The possible answers left Zane cold.

"You coming?"

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Gracie C. McKeever

Ransom was halfway out the car door, eager to get to his

grandmother's spoiling, no doubt. Zane turned off the engine and joined him on the walkway leading to the front door, unconcerned about leaving the car unlocked.

His mom stood outside the door to greet them, as if she'd been sitting by the window since his call, waiting for a sign of their arrival.

Zane steeled himself for an emotional onslaught much worse than anything he'd ever experienced at Nova's. The memories of his dead sister were always strongest this time of year, especially when he was around his mother. Sage had been a mirror image of her.

"Hey Mom." He went into her outstretched arms as she came out onto the lawn to meet them halfway.

She gathered him into her arms, held tight for a long moment, surprising him with the strength in her slim arms and worrying him that she'd never let go. When she did finally release her death grip, she put him at arm's length, looked him up and down and frowned. "T'ain't nothing but skin and bones."

Zane knew where her mind was going and didn't want to take that particular trip down memory lane. He tried to find the humor in almost being crushed to death. Catching Ransom's eye, he gave him a secret I-told-you-so look before flexing his biceps to assure his mother he was fit as a fiddle. "Skin and
muscles
, Ma."

"Hmph."

"C'mere, you." Zane pulled her into a fierce hug, giving her a taste of her own medicine. "Solid enough for you?"

"Hmmm…" She rested a palm on his chest, seeming to revel in the strong beat of his heart. "I guess it'll do until I get a chance to work on fattening you up this weekend."

He chuckled as his mother turned her attentions to Ran.

"And
you…
" She waggled a finger at the teen.

Ransom ducked his head and shuffled over, and his grandmother playfully cuffed him then wrapped all ten of her long fingers around his throat and shook him. He squinched up his shoulders and giggled as she pulled him close for a hug.

"Mugging people on the street, acting a fool up North…"

Zane gave his mother a wide-eyed look. "How'd you…?"

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"I have my sources." She winked at her grandson. "Ran told me."

"You told on
yourself?
"

Sheepishly Ransom shrugged. "Yeah, kinda, sorta."

"Why?"

She answered for her grandson, "Because it was the right thing to do."

Zane grinned. "Are you trying to say I was wrong in not telling you first, ma'am?"

"Don't ma'am me." She took a good-natured swipe at Zane's head now.

"And Yes, you're darn right you were wrong in not telling me."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Mmm-hmm, and when you get through, tell the truth." She nodded.

"More like you didn't want me to think you didn't have control of the situation."

"What can we do to make it up to you?"

"You can eat a good share of this here Thanksgiving dinner I've been slaving over all day, is what you can do." She wrapped her arms around their waists as they all headed into the house. "I'm glad you're here, babies," she whispered.

Zane was glad, too, looking forward to shutting out his life back in New York for the next couple of days. He knew he’d have to face it all when he and Ran returned—the loss, the threats and vandalism, his kids’

unending problems. But the biggest aspect he didn’t want to face, but knew he had to, was his relationship with Nova Foxx.

How he was going to reconcile with her was as big an anxiety-inducting mystery to him as her gifts were.

226

Gracie C. McKeever

Chapter 20

Today marked the first time since Nova was a young teenager that she'd gone to the temple without being dragged kicking and screaming by her mother. She'd actually been looking forward to the trip ever since their heart-to-heart the day before.

Perhaps that was because the temple where her mother served as minister was welcoming. The building itself, inside and out, invited anyone who wanted and needed spiritual guidance or healing. A quaint brick affair, it was solid and warm, much like the homes it served in the surrounding community, holding no more than a couple hundred parishioners comfortably at any given time.

Sitting in a pew surrounded by the amiable vibes of so many true believers was an eye-opening experience for Nova. Listening to her mother’s sermon filled her with the serenity and peace she'd searched for since she walked out on Zane, or perhaps even longer than that.

But if she thought she could escape the prerequisite spiel about putting her gifts to good use and joining the spiritualist church, Nova had another thing coming, because her mom wouldn't go down without a fight for the good cause.

And the cause of the moment involved converting her daughter.

Nova took her mother's exhortations in the good-natured spirit in which they were delivered, nowhere near as averse to them as she used to be. Perhaps the holidays and being around the snug comfort of her parents had mellowed her out.

Her mother must have sensed her internal struggle, as she’d always been able to. Her final pitch was a suggestion that Nova take the trip with her up to Cassadaga Lake some time soon and attend a workshop or two on developing mediumship.

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"Just to get a feel for things," her mother assured, going on to extol the already well-known assets of The Dale and intimating that a person could do worse than follow in the footsteps of some of Lily Dale’s luminaries—

Mahatma Gandhi, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt, to name a few.

Nova, well aware of The Dale's virtues, told her she'd think about it.

Her mother took the hour-and-a-half-long drive up to Lily Dale, giving seminars and workshops at the NSAC General Offices, as often as time allowed. And as with her attendance at the annual convention, her trips to Lily Dale revitalized her spirit and reinforced her resolve to serve.

Nova could well understand The Dale's rejuvenating effects. She'd accompanied her mother to the spiritual retreat several times as a child and had enjoyed the pastoral atmosphere, been impressed by the Fox Cottage and Well House and stimulated by the Inspiration Stump at Forest Temple.

Covering some eighty acres in upstate New York, The Dale had all this and much more to offer in the way of education and recreation—its two biggest selling points to a precocious overachiever like Nova, who had a deep-seated desire to learn new things and meet new people. And the grounds were a great place for a young child to get her jollies just wandering around and exploring.

She still wasn't ready to walk among so many of the enlightened and anointed, though, didn't think she deserved to.

However, fortified by the earlier service at the temple, she told herself she was almost ready to go back home and confront Zane. Almost, but not quite.

The deciding factor came much later, after grace had been said over the table and she and her parents were well into enjoying the succulent seasoned turkey-and-all-the-trimmings dinner that her mother had started preparing the night before.

Nova tried to hide it when the first pains struck—fierce twinges shooting from her left shoulder, down across her chest, and finally ramming into her right hipbone, until these areas of her body were the beginning and end of her universe.

She stifled a gasp and almost dropped the spoonful of cranberry sauce she'd raised to her lips, finally remembering to breathe as she slowly set the spoon on her plate.

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Gracie C. McKeever

She realized she was slumped forward in her chair when she felt her mother's eyes on her, hot and questioning.

"Nova, baby, are you all right?"

"Your mother's cooking isn't
that
bad, is it?"

Nova gave a half-hearted smile at her father's teasing remark; it was the best she could manage under the circumstances. "I guess I'm not used to all this fattening food in one sitting. I think I might have eaten too much."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."

"Be flattered, Mom." She stood from the table. "I'm going to go lie down for a bit."

"Not going to watch the games with me?" her father asked.

She heard the crestfallen tone in his voice and tried not to laugh.

Whatever was wrong with her, she was sure laughing was not a good thing for her to do. Besides, she didn't want to insult her dad. "I'll catch up with you and Madden's six-legged turkey later, Pop."

"A nice walk outside in the crisp air would probably be a better bet.

Exercise off some of those
fattening
calories." Her mother smiled.

Nova grinned. "I'll pass." She leaned in, kissed first her mom, then her dad, and headed towards the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. She grabbed the newel and paused; the stairs looked insurmountable.

She felt her parents' eyes on her back and tried not to bow to the spasms in her hipbone. She took the steps as slowly as possible, gritting her teeth and trying not to draw more attention than she already had. The force of every step magnified her pain in spite of the plush carpeting covering the stairs.