“Me, too, sweetie,” Mom said. She wrapped her arm about Robin, Dad grabbed her small suitcase, and Derek and I followed them into the sprawling ranch house in which I’d grown up.
“I’ve made sandwiches and potato salad for lunch,” Mom said, then turned to Derek. “You’ll stay for the day, won’t you?”
Clearly, Derek was the authority as far as Mom was concerned. She was probably right to consult him instead of me. I would’ve been happy spending a night or two, but Derek had an actual office to run back in the city.
Dad poured everyone a glass of the new sparkling wine he’d been experimenting with at the winery. Robin took one sip, then set her glass down. I could tell she was still in pain and was glad to see Mom come over and rub Robin’s shoulders. She relaxed instantly.
We ate lunch under a huge oak tree on my parents’ terraced patio overlooking the vineyards Dharma was famous for. Off to the left of the house and rambling up the hill was the apple orchard Mom had started the first year we moved into the house. In honor of Robin’s arrival, Mom had made her fabulous Crazy Delicious Apple Crisp for dessert.
Many Thanksgiving moons ago, when, as usual, I’d insisted on pumpkin pie after the huge meal, Mom also brought out her fledgling attempt at apple crisp. Not impressed with the presentation at first—it wasn’t pumpkin pie, after all, and I was so devoted to pumpkin pie that my family and friends had taken to calling me Punkin—I forced myself to take one small taste. I didn’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings, after all. Then I took another bite. Then another. In the end, I declared it my new most favorite dessert ever. Especially the way Mom made it, with spicy, lightly sweetened apples and the crunchiest, most crumbly, crispy layers of yumminess on top. Her secret ingredient was a luscious caramel sauce she added at the end. And ice cream on the side of the dish didn’t hurt, either.
Whenever I visited my parents now, I always went home with a bag of apples. Everyone in town did. Mom was known as the Apple Lady at the local grammar school. I guess that was better than being known as the Murder Scene Queen. Just saying.
After lunch, Mom helped Robin move to the chaise longue and tucked a blanket around her. With great care, she daubed some cream on Robin’s swollen face and set a glass of bright green parsley water on the nearby table for her to drink.
I hoped Robin knew better than to touch that stuff. I still had nightmares about parsley juice, Mom’s cure-all for most ailments.
Then Mom turned to another of her cure-alls. She pulled a disposable lighter from her pocket, lit a small bundle of sage incense, and blew on it until it was smoky, filling the air with its pungent aroma.
“I’ll now recite an original healing love chant,” she announced. She bowed to Robin, then bowed to the four directions and hummed loudly. Waving her arms and shaking the bundle of smoking sage above Robin’s head, she began her chant.
Father Sun, Sister Moon,
Sweep out darkness, sweep out doom.
Mother Earth and all the clouds,
Dance the dance and sing out loud.
Free our Robin from this pain,
Take the hurt but leave the flame.
The flame of passion burns anew
And love is found when hearts are true.
Your eyes will meet, your hands will touch,
You’ll get the one you want so much.
You’ll do the funky Twist and Shout
That’s what I’m-a talkin’ ’bout!
Everybody sing! Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny!
Hey, hey, hey!
I started to applaud but Mom stopped me. “Not yet, there’s more.” Then she swayed and hummed and continued in an even deeper yet louder tone.
Sacred stones, circle of magic,
Here is the Dance, here is desire.
Circle of magic, do your thing,
Dance of desire, light my fire!
Everybody sing! Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny!
Hey, hey, hey!
There was a moment of silence, followed by a burst of applause.
“Wow, Mom, that was really something,” I said.
“Beautiful, honey,” Dad said, his eyes moist with emotion. “I think that was your best one yet.”
“I feel the fire,” Robin said, and I didn’t dare meet her gaze.
Mom laughed breathlessly. “That was crazy!” Her cheeks were flushed pink as she fell back into her chair. “Now, Robin, that spell was created especially for you. It’s meant to cleanse your aura, lift your spirit, and allow your heart to find joy again.”
“Sounds like you threw in a little dose of the wild thing, too,” Dad said, dancing in his chair as he wiggled his eyebrows.
“Oh, jeez,” I muttered.
“I do what I can,” Mom said modestly. She bounced up and kissed Robin’s cheek. “We’ll take good care of you here, sweetie.”
“Thank you, Becky,” Robin whispered.
Derek squeezed my hand as he said to Mom, “It was lovely, Rebecca.”
“Why, thank you, Derek,” she said, beaming. “I’ve been trying out a few new chants. I don’t know if you could tell, but I improvised some of the words.”
I raised my hand. “I could tell.”