Occult Suspense for Mothers Boxset: The Nostalgia Effect by EJ Valson and Mother's by Michelle Read (2 ebooks for one price) (40 page)

CHAPTER 60

I wake up to blinding morning sunlight in my eyes. I roll over to my other side and will myself to fall back to sleep. Michael is on the opposite side of the bed with a small blanket covering him. We stayed up until almost 3:00
a.m. talking. When he asked me about soul mates, our conversation turned introspective and we discussed how soul mates could be your best friend, family member or just someone who makes an impact in your life -- but not necessarily your true love. We agreed that we were supposed to meet. He told me he was grateful we became friends and promised to stay in touch when he got back to Sweden. He said once he makes a good friend, he will always be there for them. I know he is telling the truth. I know that he is very loyal.

When we finally went to bed together, it was platonic. We didn’t even get under the covers. We instead slept on top of the comforter and we each had our own blanket.

Michael starts to stir awake, jostling me from my thoughts. He reaches over and touches my shoulder. “Come spoon with me,” he grumbles.
Without hesitation I turn and fold into his body. The blankets are still between us, but he is holding me. We are like innocent adolescents. Not kissing, not holding hands. Wanting to touch, but not crossing a line into serious physical intimacy.

The doorbell rings and disrupts our moment. I jump from the bed and scurry to the window in my mom’s office down the hall to see if there is a car parked outside to indicate who might be at the door. I’m relieved when I see that Lewis’ car is in the driveway and not Joe’s, though I don’t know why he would come here.

“It’s Lewis!” I call to the bedroom. I hear Michael shuffle out of bed. He face is puffy from sleep, as we only got about five hours of rest.

He heads down the stairs and opens the door.

“Hey,” he says, as Lewis comes in.

“You ready to go?” Lewis asks him.

I walk down the stairs. Lewis looks at me and gives me a wink. “You two have a good night?” he teases, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, stop,” I say jokingly.

“Probably not as fun as you,” Michael retorts while putting on his sweater and shoes.

“I guess I should call Stacy and get the details,” I tease Lewis back.

“Women,” Lewis huffs while shaking his head, but I see a grin on his face as he turns to walk back to his car.

“Bye, Lewis,” I shout after him, as he walks away. He keeps his back turned but raises his hand in a wave.

I approach Michael, though
I’m not sure how to say goodbye. Michael leans in and embraces me. I hold him tightly, but briefly. He still smells good, though his cologne has faded through the night.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, then gives me a short peck on my forehead and leaves.

I slowly close the door behind him and lock it. I sit down on the cold hardwood floor and let my body adjust to the loneliness that immediately washed over me when he walked out the door.

My body is pulsing with the urge to hold him again, kiss him, tell him I love him. It’s as if it has been awakened even more so. There is a gravitational pull to him. I feel like I have lost a part of my physical self. It still functions, but not as well when he isn’t with me.

“This won’t do,” I say to myself. Something has to give. I can’t force it, but
I’m running out of time. And what if things don’t happen the way they did the first time? What if I take the wrong step and throw fate off course?

“Tell me what to do?” I say looking up. I don’t know who I’m talking too. God, life, destiny? Maybe all three. But I need a sign. I need something to guide me to the next step. I need to know that I am doing

CHAPTER 61

The rest of the day moves at a painfully slow pace. I am sad and feeling depressed. I call Astrid in the afternoon.
I’m in a funk and need her to talk me through it. She is the psychic here and should be able to tell me if I am on the right course. To my disappointment, her machine picks up. I leave a short message and hang up.

I slump on the couch in the quiet house. I don’t even have the energy to turn on the television or stereo, so I settle for lying down and thinking about the night before. What is this? What is the point of this? Why am I
really
here? Did I do something wrong to deserve this? Did the life I remember with Michael even happen? Are we really supposed to be together or am I not supposed to be with him after all? Did I make a mistake the first time around and now have to correct it?

I’m
feeling all the confusing emotions I did before I found him again. But they are magnified now. Before, I felt him, knew of him, saw our life. But after some time passed, it’s as if the emotions and memories buried themselves within me. Now, the closer I get to him and the more I am with him, the stronger I feel about our past and the more intense the emotions get. I feel wonderful when I’m with him, but when he leaves it physically hurts and drains me. What will happen when he leaves in a few weeks? Will I survive it?

At 6:00 p.m. I head to my dad’s for dinner, filled with a sense of dread. Joe asked to take Olivia with him to his parents for Sunday dinner, so I am alone when I arrive. I’m welcomed by the smell of roast chicken and garlic mashed potatoes. I realize that I’m starving, as I barely ate during the day.

“Take a load off. Dinner’s almost ready,” my dad says, after he and Mary greet me with hugs.

I plop down on the couch. The news is on television but I can’t focus on the subject. I’m too distracted by my thoughts. My dad heads to the kitchen to help Mary and leaves me alone. I notice a plastic spaceship-looking thing on the coffee table. There is a black plastic sphere in the middle.

“Hey, Dad? What is this thing on the coffee table?” I yell towards the kitchen.

“Oh, that’s an electronic Twenty Questions game,” he hollers back. “It’s fun, but it will guess right every time!” he warns with a laugh.

Hmm. I shrug. Why not? I hit what appears to be the power button and lights come on, then red block letters scroll across a little screen.

“Ready!”
it reads.

I think for a minute of what my answer will be, then I hit the YES button.

“
Is it an animal
?”

I push the YES button again. This makes me laugh, because my answer is “Michael” and he isn’t a mineral or vegetable. Let’s see how good this thing really is. Like it will guess a name!

“
Does it eat meat
?”

YES,
I press.

After about seventeen more similar questions that make me laugh, I am sure I will have this thing guessing “bear.”

The game occasionally teases me and says things like, “
I know what you’re thinking
.” I doubt it.

I’m proud of my attempted trickery when I get to the last question.

“
I’ve got the answer!
” it reads.

“Sure you do,” I sarcastically whisper.

“
Soul mate!
” the screen displays.

I freeze. This damn game has bested me. My heart is thumping in my chest as I hold this plastic object that is flashing the answer, waiting for me to confirm if it is right.

“Holy shit,” I whisper. I asked for a sign. I asked for an answer. I got it.

C
HAPTER 62

The work week is slowly creeping by. The only reason I want it to hurry is because Stacy decided to put together an impromptu trip to Seattle for Bjorn and Michael, as they have never been there. Joe wanted to take Olivia camping with his family, so it worked out in my favor.

Though I miss hanging out with Olivia, I know that I will have that opportunity when Michael leaves and my weekends aren’t occupied with trying to get every minute I can with him. Sometimes when it’s just him and me, whether it’s getting coffee in the kitchen or on the drive to take him home after work, there is a familiar quietness between us. It feels so normal that
I’m almost convinced we will be going home to the same place at the end of the day.

Thursday night I do laundry and pack for the weekend getaway. I am nervous and excited. Though I feel like this is something we have done before, I can’t put my finger on it. I have flashes of Michael’s face with the
Space Needle in the background. But I’m not sure if this is my imagination or a real memory.

Olivia is in the living room with Joe watching television, so
I’m alone in my room when my cell phone rings. It’s Astrid. “Astrid? I was beginning to worry about you,” I say when I answer. I still had not received a call back from my voice message that I left more than two weeks ago.

“Oh, I know. I decided to go to the mountains with some friends,” she says whimsically. “It was incredible. We meditated, drank wine, and ate fabulous cheeses…..just had a splendid time!” she explains.

“Well, I guess psychics need time off too,” I joke.

“You got that right, Love. It’s too much noise down here in civilization,” she laughs. “So, I got your message and saw your missed calls. You sounded a little down. You OK now?” she asks.

“Yeah. Actually I am,” I say, surprised by my own response.

“Good!” she exclaims. “Well, I hope this makes it even better. I just talked to John. He left me several messages and was finally able to reach me. It seems he has found the gentleman we were talking to him about last time. And it’s a match,” she finishes.

I freeze.
“So, what now? What’s next?” I ask.

“Well, the man isn’t in the best shape to talk.  Apparently there were some….effects,” she shares.

“Effects? What kind of effects?” I ask, concerned.

“I am not sure of the details, but he isn’t really able to communicate his story. His brother is doing most of the talking for him and he is giving John only bits and pieces. I think he wants to establish trust first. But it sounds like there is more for John to learn. We won’t know more until later next week, or the week after,” she explains.

I deflate. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. Just when I get a high, it drops -- and rather than enjoy it I feel sick to my stomach.

“OK,” I say, my voice full of disappointment

“Chin up, Buttercup!” she chirps. “I also wanted to tell you, I had the strangest dream. You were in it and I could clearly see you walking with a man holding hands. You were near water. There were boats nearby, like sailboats. I couldn’t see his face, or much about him, but I knew there was a strong bond. But the strangest part is you turned to the side and you were pregnant. Largely pregnant,” she says.

“OK, but that is just a dream,” I respond.

“Oh, no, Darling,” she corrects me. “My dreams aren’t like yours.

They are visions and usually ones that are concrete. Anyway, gotta run. Off to a spirit meeting,” she says.

“Oh, OK,” I say, unconvinced. We say a brief “goodbye” and hang up.

It’s just like Astrid to call and try to reassure me, but instead confuse me even more. This is not helpful information. This is frustrating.
I’m the type of person that likes to get things done. I like instant results and this has been the biggest test of my patience that I can recall. Everything is a waiting game, nothing feels tangible and I have no way to know if I am doing the right thing.

CH
APTER 63

Dusk is setting in over the Seattle skyline as we pull into the city on this crisp May evening. Lights from tall building windows illuminate the air and I grow excited as we take the exit to our hotel.

The ride here was pleasant. Lewis drove Stacy’s car and she played DJ. Michael, Bjorn and I squeezed into the back, with me in the middle. This forced me to be close to Michael, who let me lay my head on his shoulder when I wanted to nap.

“Ok, so I think we take a right here and it should be a half mile down that way,” Stacy says, navigating from the directions she printed from the internet. Michael snaps pictures as we drive through the busy streets. The camera preview shows smears of car lights and businesses. The pictures aren’t clear, but are artistic-looking.

“Ohhhh,” Lewis says, starting to laugh as we approach the hotel….or rather motel. Stacy had booked a hotel online that was downtown and within a twenty minute walk to
Pike Street Market and the Space Needle. The price for a double suite was decent and now we know why.

The outside of the building is painted a mint green color that’s showing serious signs of wear and it is obvious that people don’t just stay one night. I am inclined to believe that some people live here, because there are potted plants in a few of the windows.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Michael says.

“Dammit!” Stacy says, disappointed.

I lean forward and squeeze her shoulder. “It’s OK. We won’t be staying in the room that much and the location is good. We will just make sure to lock the doors!” I assure her, laughing.

“What’s that guy doing up there?” Bjorn says, pointing to a room on the second level. A man with a large video camera on his shoulder puts out a cigarette and walks back into a room, then shuts the door.

“Making a porno movie,” Michael and I say in sarcastic unison. We look at each other and laugh.

“Great,” Stacy says, as she gets out of the car to check in at the lobby.

A few minutes later we head up to our room, which is luckily on the opposite side of whatever movie is being made in the other unit. Upon entering our room we are hit with the smell of cigarette smoke coming from the room next door. I drop my bags near one of the three twin-sized beds in the main room and decide to take a tour. On my right is a full-sized bathroom, decorated in dark pink and green. Across from that is an adjoining door to the smoker’s room. I grab an extra blanket from the closet shelf, bundle it and press it against the door to block the smoke.

“Good idea,” Michael says, noticing what I’m doing. I shrug and nod.

The main bedroom is festooned with old wood paneling, and a painted cinder block wall supports windows covered in plaid curtains. The queen-sized bed is slightly sunk in the middle and I am praying the sheets are actually clean.

“OK, so girls in this room, boys in the front?” Stacy asks when she enters the room.

I quickly glance at Michael, who makes eye contact with me. “Sure thing,” he agrees, and leaves the room.

“So no cuddle time with Lewis tonight?” I tease her.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she quickly responds. “One night of cuddling and he thinks we are married. I need to draw the boundary line,” she adds.

We freshen up after the four-hour car ride and decide to walk to dinner. Once we get out of the motel parking lot, the city offers a more visually pleasing experience. The sidewalks are clean, the trees are maintained and the businesses around us are upscale and inviting.

We settle on the Pie Palace, as it is still Happy Hour and they have plenty of seating. Michael has been a bit quiet during the walk here.

“You OK?” I ask him quietly when we sit down at our table.

He smiles politely and nods. I know this face. He is distracted, something is on his mind. Dinner comes quickly, and we eat up and then drink even more. Stacy, Lewis and Bjorn are caught up in the moment and enjoying the loud atmosphere. But Michael has been more reserved and I am having a hard time tuning it out.

When we leave I grab Michael’s arm to slow him down to walk with me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he replies, unconvincingly.

Lewis, Stacy and Bjorn continue ahead of us, not realizing we are hanging back while they laugh and talk as they walk down the sidewalk back to the motel. Michael is walking with his head down, lost in thought.

“OK, stop,” I say, stopping him in the middle of the walkway. “What is up with you, tonight?” I ask frustrated. I don’t care how well we do or don’t know each other at this point. I hate sulking and that’s what he is doing. I just want to have a good time and I can’t with him in this mood.

He looks down for a minute and thinks, then looks up at the sky and sighs a big sigh. “I just want this weekend to go well. But mostly, I’m having a hard time imagining leaving. I love being here with you guys, and I have a little over a week until I have to go back home,” he says.

“So, are you afraid that if you just let go and have a good time it will be harder to leave?” I ask.

He stares down at the sidewalk and nods. He is embarrassed by his emotions, but they are honest. It’s almost childlike and my mothering nature kicks in.

I gently place my hands on both sides of his face and lift his chin so he is looking at me. “I don’t want you to leave either. But we need to make the most of this weekend. We need to not think about you leaving. We need to let ourselves go and make memories and not have any regrets,” I explain.

He looks into my eyes and I don’t look away. He really sees me.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” he says and with that he takes my hand in his and lifts it to his mouth and gives it a kiss. He doesn’t let go of it as we make our way behind the rest of the group.

We walk all the way back to the motel holding hands. It feels so natural. I lean closer into him as he tells me a story about his best friend in Sweden. I don’t even care when Bjorn, Stacy and Lewis stop to wait and notice us holding hands. It isn’t their business, it isn’t their life.

When we get back to the hotel, Stacy starts making vodka tonics for all of us, and turns the radio on. If there is any motel where we could get loud and not worry about getting in trouble, this would be the place. After midnight, I decide to go to bed.

“I want to play Truth or Dare,” Stacy says, pleading like a child who doesn’t want to go to bed.

“You have fun with that, but I am going to bed,” I say chuckling.

Michael is lying down on one of the beds, almost asleep. “Do you want to play?” Stacy asks him, trying to shake him awake.

“No
thanks. I would rather sleep,” he says, with his eyes still shut.

“OK, OK, you go to my room and I will sleep out here,” she says half slurring. I perk up, because that means he can share a bed with me tonight.

I casually make my way to the bathroom to wash my face and take a quick shower after the long day. When
I’m finished, I try to make myself looks less bland without makeup, but there is no point really. In the morning, I will look my worst and I guess he will take it or leave it!

Michael and I pass in the hallway as he makes his way into the bathroom. I hear the shower turn on as I flip on the bedside lamp and nervously make my way into my side of the bed. For some reason I always choose the side closest to the bathroom. When Michael returns he is in a pair of workout shorts and a t-shirt.

“Do you mind if I crack the window?” he asks. I shake my head.

He gently lies down on his side of the bed.

“OK, goodnight,” I say, as I turn to switch off the lamp.  

I lay staring at the ceiling, as the room isn’t completely dark due to the city lights outside. I can hear Stacy laughing in the front room. I know she has had too much to drink, but she can handle herself.

Michael is lying with his back to me. He starts to stir a bit and turns on his back. We both lay there in silence. I’m not sure if he wants to talk or sleep. I feel his hand searching around the covers, then his fingers are suddenly intertwined with mine.

“Goodnight, Love,” he whispers.