THE SHADOWED ONYX: A DIAMOND ESTATES NOVEL (14 page)

Joy propped herself up on her elbows and watched Stella hold up her billowing sleeve as she adjusted some of her trinkets. “It’s just hard to let go when you thought you already knew the truth.”

“Right. When faith and doubt intersect, there has to be some kind of connection or explosion of truth that makes sense.”

Silas.

Melanie.

Joy couldn’t argue with those explosions of truth. “I like the way you put it.” Joy held Stella’s gaze. “I heard from Melanie.”

“Hmm.” Stella frowned. “I wondered. Tragedy has a way of opening people to the universe. The moment when a person is most vulnerable and open to be reached.”

“Yeah, makes sense to me.” Joy twirled her onyx ring around her middle finger. Get the focus off her. “So how did you get into all of this? What prompted you to dig into the spirit world?”

“Hmm. Good question. I’m not really sure it was any one thing. Just lived a lot of life that added up to me searching for the truth. Once I started feeling unfulfilled by organized religion and opened my mind to other options, doors opened and walls crashed down until I could see clearly.”

Joy nodded and crossed her legs, leaning forward on the bed. Stella made total sense. How strange. She was just the nice lady Grandpa married after Grandma died. Now Joy was coming to her for spiritual advice?

Grandpa poked his head through the doorway. Had he been listening?

“What are you two doing back here all alone? I miss my grandbaby. Come on out and see your ol’ granddad.”

Joy didn’t miss the look that passed between Grandpa and Stella. Uh-oh.

“Can you pass the sweet potatoes, Joy?” Stella reached a hand across the table, holding the flowy sleeve of her pumpkin-colored silk blouse away from the green bean casserole.

Gladly. Anything to get them out from under her nose where the sickeningly sweet smell of toasted marshmallows gagged her. Joy rose a few inches from her chair and passed the bubbly concoction across the table. Aunt Sue intercepted, spooned a glob onto her plate, then passed it to Stella.

Mom dinged her fork on her water goblet. “I’m so glad you’re all here with us to celebrate Thanksgiving. It’s been a rough year in a lot of ways, but an incredibly blessed one in so many other ways. So …”—she looked around the table with a smile—“how about if we each take a moment to say three things we’re thankful for this year?”

Or they could—may be a crazy idea, but—they could eat while the food was warm.

Mom’s smile was frozen to her face. “Who wants to go first?”

She had to be kidding. What could Joy say she was thankful for? She supposed she could tell her family about Silas. Would Mom be happy for her? Um … no. Joy glanced at Beatrice. There would be no talk of Joy’s new guardian spirit at the Thanksgiving table. They’d commit her for sure.

Maybe Joy could talk about her new friends who helped her talk to dead people. She could only imagine what Mom would say about that. No, she had to come up with some kind of acceptable answer.
I’m thankful for world peace. I’m thankful for food on the table. I’m thankful for a warm house to call my own
. Really. What kind of answer did Mom expect from Joy? It really wasn’t the year for sunshine and rainbows.

“Me. Me.” Beatrice beamed and waved her hand.

Mom sat down. “Okay, you can go first, Bea.”

“Well, I’m thankful that I’m going to be an artist.” Beatrice paused and looked around the table as though making sure everyone was listening. “I really am going to be an artist.”

Joy smiled. “That’s great. I’ve seen your work. You’ll be a really good one.”

“I know. And I’m thankful for my hamster, JoJo.”

Aunt Sue opened her mouth to say something, but Beatrice shook her head and held up a finger. “Just wait. I have more. And I’m thankful for my books and for playing in the snow and for swimming.”

Mom patted Bea’s hand. “That’s wonderful. I’m thankful for swimming, too.”

What could Joy possibly say that would top swimming?

Dad raised his glass of Pepsi. “I’ll go next. I’m thankful for a successful career, a healthy family, and the prospect of moving into our new home this year.”

In that order?

And it might be their new home this year if they ever got the work done. Wasn’t it about time to hire more people? Maybe that could be Joy’s answer. She could be thankful for contractors and construction workers and drywallers … maybe even painters. Wonder what Dad would say to that?

Joy ripped the corners off her white paper napkin. Mom had gone all out and bought the big ones that came something like forty to a pack. The supersized five-hundred pack was never good enough for Thanksgiving.

Mom’s turn. “I’m so very thankful for the cross.” Her hand rose to her neck, and she lightly touched the diamond pendant on the slender white gold chain. “I’m thankful for my eternal hope in Christ and that I can pass it on to my family.”

Typical super-spiritual Mom answer. Joy tore another strip off her napkin and added it to a growing pile.

And now Grandpa’s turn. “I’m thankful for my salvation and for a beautiful family who loves me.” He placed his calloused, liver-spotted hand over Joy’s pale one. “And I’m most thankful for my granddaughter who has just made it through the roughest moments in her life.”

That’s what he thought—the year wasn’t over yet.

Mom turned to Joy. “Your turn.”

Oh come on. Seriously? How about Stella? Or Aunt Sue?

Joy stabbed a bite of turkey and stuffing and popped it in her mouth, hoping to hold off the agony for as long as possible. Couldn’t she just pass? Did anyone really expect her to come up with something to be thankful for?

Okay. Just get it over with. “I’m thankful for … I really don’t know. I guess I’m thankful that we’re together and for a family that loves and supports me.” Wasn’t that enough? Joy flattened the pile of napkin strips without making eye contact with anyone. Come on, peeps, talk amongst yourselves. Nothing to see here.

But they remained silent. Had they set this up ahead of time? Joy could picture Mom gathering them in the corner telling them she worried about her daughter’s mental health and wanted her to realize there were good things in life among the pain. So like Mom.

Joy snuck a peek. Everyone stared at her, waiting. Okay. One more thing would get them off her back. She couldn’t very well say she was thankful for Silas. And Mom and Dad sure wouldn’t understand if Joy said she was grateful Melanie had reached out to her from beyond. How about napkins? She was thankful for napkins? No? Okay.

Ooh. She had it. “I’m thankful for new beginnings.” Joy sat up straighter. That should do it.

Mom beamed.

Phew. Joy stuffed her mouth with cranberry salad so no one would ask her for more info.

“New beginnings are a truly wonderful thing, sweetheart.”

Sure, but the beginnings of what exactly?

Raven had said the spirit world buzzed with activity on holidays, especially nights like Halloween, Christmas, but Thanksgiving, too. Wonder why? Joy raised her finger and pressed the doorbell. Three cars in Luc’s driveway, but the house was pitch-black. Were they in there?

The door opened slowly, and Raven stood in the dark entrance, her face illuminated by the candle dripping into the golden candleholder cupped in her hands. The same holders they’d used the other night. The night of Silas. Joy looked down to her right.

He wasn’t there.

She fought panic. Why had he left her? “Silas is gone,” Joy hissed at Raven.

Raven nodded slowly. “He must believe you are safe here.” She spoke in a monotone then turned toward the inside of the house.

Weird.

Joy followed Raven, mimicking her deliberate walk and silence. They passed through the threshold into the dark family room. The cloying scent of cloves and cinnamon attacked Joy’s senses. A breeze swirled around her and made her shiver, yet heat climbed from her chest and up her neck.

People clustered in three circles, four to each one. One group hummed in unison as they swayed to a rhythm only they heard. The second group huddled in the far corner with an Ouija board open between them. The third had their eyes closed as they passed a pipe around the circle.

No question what was in the pipe they smoked. What had Joy gotten herself into? Austin thought he’d stumbled onto quite the scene the other night; he wouldn’t believe this.

Raven beckoned to Lucas.

He passed the pipe and rose from his spot on the floor then approached with the same deliberate gait as Raven. “Hey Joy.” He spoke in that monotone hush voice as well.

What was with these people? She should have stayed home and played UNO with Grandpa and Beatrice. Grandpa had seemed kind of sad when she left until Stella told him to leave her alone. “Teenagers want to be out, free,” she explained as she twirled across the room. Then she’d promised him a few games of Yahtzee later. That part perked him up.

“Why don’t you take my spot over there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“Check it out. You say that every time you face something new … then you try it and love it. Why don’t you just go for it? You know you will eventually.”

Luc had a point. She sure hadn’t been exercising much resolve lately. But no drugs. Too far, even for her. “Yeah, I don’t think I can, Luc. It’s too much.”

“Okay, well, do whatever. It’s cool.”

The Ouija board. After Joy’s first experience with it, who would have thought it would seem like the least dangerous option in any room? She approached the huddle, recognizing only one of the two faces she could see. A boy in the grade below hers. What was that kid’s name? The other one seemed way older. The, uh, silent type.

Joy lowered herself in one of the gaps between bodies then looked to her left to see the girl who’d had her back to the room.

No way. Heather? “What are you doing here?”

“You’re into this stuff? Wow. I didn’t see that coming at all.” Heather grinned as she shook her head.

So glad to have amused her. If only the ground would open up and swallow Joy whole. She had to get out. Joy started to rise without bumping into the boy at her left, but Heather grabbed her hand and pulled her down. As she plunked to the floor again, the quiet guy bolted. Wow. That was fast. Something she’d said?

“Don’t leave, Joy. Look, I’m sorry I’ve been insensitive. I’ve been going through some things, too. It’s no excuse … just what it is.” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes looked sad. “Stay. You don’t have to say anything. Just join us. Maybe you’ll like it.”

Heather seemed almost normal. Almost human. All right, Joy would stay for a little bit, but the minute things got uncomfortable, she was out of there.

Something brushed against her leg. Joy looked down. Silas! He must have sensed her unease and reappeared. She reached down as if to stroke him. If only she could feel the heat of his body beneath her hand, but such was the limitation of the gulf between life and death.

The trio waited with their hands on the planchette. Joy rested her fingertips beside theirs.
Here we go
.

Heather opened her mouth. “Are you alive or dead?”

Well, that was an interesting way to start a conversation with a spirit.

The glass piece began to inch across the board.

B

This felt familiar. Not as creepy as the first few times though.

O

Joy stole a look at Heather. Her thick hair swung past her shoulders and draped across the game board. She flipped it back as the planchette slid toward the center. Her green eyes grew wide.

T

It took everything in Joy not to let go of the planchette to wipe her hand on her jeans.

H

Both?

Heather looked up at Joy and shrugged then back at the game board. “You’re both alive and dead?”

The planchette hovered over
Yes
.

Joy cleared her throat. “Are you saying you died once and now you’re alive?”

Yes
.

“Do you miss being alive in human form?”

Yes
.

Joy had to know, but she wasn’t sure if either answer would soothe her. “Would you come back if you could?”

No
.