Rachel followed the young woman over to the produce stand, where there were many jars of honey for sale. It was then that she first met Liam, who totally charmed her. The dozen or so people who were minding the stand were equally affable, and she engaged in what she thought was a very heady conversation. For the first time in her life, she was discussing something other than reality TV shows, what latest celebrity had gotten liposuction, and who was doing what to whom in Hollywood. It was almost too much for her hitherto-unchallenged mind. The following week, she returned to the produce stand for more insight. After several visits and chats with the people in white, Rachel was invited to attend one of Liam’s talks. She was both nervous and excited. Before the evening was over, Rachel wanted to be a part of this group. This organization. This, whatever this was.
The next day she gave her roommates notice that she wanted to move, and it took only two weeks to find her replacement. South Florida was full of transients. Some good. Some not so good. Rachel had been lucky to this point with the company she kept, but now she was moving on to join a different set of people. For the first time in her life, she felt genuinely optimistic about the future.
When she arrived at The Haven, she had to turn over her material possessions, including her bicycle. She was surprised when she got a little choked up giving it over to the man in the black shirt and white pants. It was the first thing she had bought for herself after putting a deposit on the apartment. Sure, it was secondhand and as old as the hills, but it was hers. Until then. The man kept smiling but said nothing and handed her the clothes and scarf she was to wear. She couldn’t tell if he was Latino, Filipino, or just a well-tanned black-haired dude from Florida.
Two more years passed, and Rachel moved from Tyro to Pledge, where she remained. She preferred it. Even though she was much more serene than she had ever been in her life, she still felt that she didn’t have the brains or the interest to learn more. She kept to herself when they had free time, which wasn’t often. Their days were filled with chores, errands, and classes, or creating something to sell at the market. Her life was mundane, but Rachel was content. It sure beat riding her bike in monsoons to a job serving chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes to cranky customers. But even that life was way better than living in the meth-cooker she had escaped from. Life wasn’t so bad although she felt lonely, even with all the people around her.
They had no spunk. They were like the Stepford Wives. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt a flicker of gaiety. Contentment, yes. Exhilaration, no. Not for a while. Maybe never. Maybe it was because Liam was less visible. Many of his lectures were being given by the Luminaries, most of whom had no charisma.
Rachel finally felt a sense of delight when a new member joined. Perhaps she could make friends with someone who still had a flicker of emotion. Her name was Gabby. There was something about Gabby that Rachel liked. Even though Gabby was more than ten years older than her, Rachel felt in sync with the newbie.
*
“So? What? What are you so flushed about?” Rachel prodded.
“Oh, it’s silly.” Gabby wiped her forehead again.
“Silly don’t look like that.” Rachel pointed to Gabby’s forehead. That’s when Gabby explained about her encounters with Noah and Liam.
“Yeah, Liam is a good guy, but Noah can be a bit of a prick sometimes. Wasn’t always that way.”
Chapter Ten
Pinewood
Myra was awakened from her nap by the cacophony of dogs yapping, women laughing, and squeals of delight. She had been reading in the atrium when she dozed off. Barbara, her dead daughter, had appeared in a dream. Or was it a dream? It wouldn’t be the first time Myra had a “visitation” from her daughter. At least that’s what some psychic folks called it: a visitation. She swore she could smell Barbara’s perfume, Miss Dior by Christian Dior. Myra tried to shake off the fog before she met the rest of the group gathered in the kitchen. When she entered, instead of greeting everyone with a high five or a hug, she stood silently. She could still smell the perfume. Barbara’s perfume. Charles put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right, love?”
Myra perked up, and asked, “Does anyone else smell perfume?”
She realized it was a silly question considering there were several women in the room. Yoko was the first to speak up.
“I am trying out a new one. I wanted something that went with all the flowers in my greenhouse. Something that would complement me without conflicting with the other blooms. It’s Miss Dior.”
Myra’s knees went weak. Thankfully, Charles already had his arm around her. She blinked several times at Yoko. “Were you just in the atrium?”
“No. Just walked in the door. Why?” Yoko looked perplexed.
“Did you know that that was Barbara’s favorite perfume?”
“Oh my goodness. No. I had no idea. Myra, I am so, so sorry.” Yoko was mortified.
Myra smiled at Yoko. “No need to apologize.” She looked over at Nikki, who had tears in her eyes. “It’s a sign,” Myra said wistfully. With that, she hugged Yoko, then hugged everyone else. The atmosphere quickly turned jovial again.
In her usual fashion, Maggie was the first to ask, “What’s for dinner? It smells scrumptious.”
Charles had a glimmer in his eye. “Toulouse-style cassoulet and fresh loaves of sourdough bread.”
Maggie put the back of her hand to her forehead, pretending she was about to faint. “You’re channeling Julia Child again?” She pretend-swooned.
Myra touched her pearls. “Is there some kind of psychic theme happening here?” Everyone looked perplexed. “I should have mentioned that just before you arrived, I had a dream about Barbara. I could have sworn I smelled her perfume in the atrium. Then Yoko appears with the same perfume Barbara wore, but she was nowhere near me. Now you used the word ‘channeling.’ I find it very interesting considering that what we are going to be discussing tonight is a spiritual retreat.”
They all glanced at each other, wide-eyed, then started to giggle. “That is a bit spooky, eh?” Fergus chimed in with his British accent, except his was a bit more refined than Charles’s.
Annie hooted. “Then I guess it is the theme! Woo-hoo for Woo-woo!” Fits of laughter broke out until Charles whistled, bringing the roar under control.
“Ladies. Please. We’re not about to have a séance,” he joked. “But yes, I dialed up Julia on my bat phone.” More whooping followed his comment.
Fergus leaned into Charles. “I think they may be suffering from hunger. Better get some food into them to quell the hysteria.” That comment just brought more howling.
Annie stifled a laugh. “I think Fergus may be right. Let’s get the table set and indulge.”
As if they had done it a hundred times, as they probably had, the women knew what their duties were and moved about the kitchen like a dance ensemble. Within minutes, each place setting was on display and awaiting another one of Charles’s magnificent delights.
Maggie waited until everyone else was seated to sit down, which surprised all of them. “Are you all right?” Annie asked, half-serious.
“I am.” Maggie approached the table. “I guess I’m a little verklempt. I know, I went through this last night, too.” She nodded at Annie and Myra. “But I wanted to let the rest of you know how much I love all of you and appreciate you very much.” She was about to wipe her nose on her sleeve when Annie reached over and handed her a napkin. “See? This is what I mean. You all look out for each other, not to mention the countless people you’ve helped. And you look out for me, too.”