“Let’s do this,” Gabriel said, then took one step and wobbled. Derek and I both grabbed him, but he held up his hands. “I’ve got this.”
He led the way, slowly, to the spacious dining room and sat down at the large, dark wood Craftsman-style table where my family had eaten together for years.
My dad joined us, insisting that we try sips of a new batch of chardonnay he’d extracted from the barrel for the occasion. As we ate sandwiches, Derek and I brought Gabriel up to speed on the attacks at BABA. Mom and Dad listened, occasionally adding bits of insight I found remarkably useful. I guess they’d had some experience with some unsavory elements in their lives. Not all Deadheads were about peace and love, it seemed.
After lunch, Dad went back to work in the barrel room and Gabriel and Derek discussed logistics while I joined Mom in the big sunny kitchen.
“Tell me more about the gray aura you saw around Alice,” I said.
Mom set her sponge on the rack near the sink. “I was so bothered by it, I had to look it up to be sure.” She walked me back to my parents’ office off the kitchen, where she pulled a thick old book from the wall of bookshelves. Laying it open on the desk, she flipped to a bookmarked page. “See? Look at this.”
I began to read about auras and their meanings, skimming through all the colors of the rainbow until I reached the various shades of gray and black.
Gray auras were indeed often a sign of disease. Usually the grayness would appear spotty and clustered around those parts of the body most affected by tumors or cellular abnormalities. But the book also warned that a gray aura could indicate dark thoughts, or the dark side of a personality.
“That’s why her aura was so dark,” Mom said. “I thought it was disease but it was just plain old evil. If I’d been more aware, I might’ve prevented Gabriel’s . . .”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, gripping her arm. “She fooled us all.”
“Sweetie,” she said gently, “it’s not your fault, either.”
“Mom, I invited her into my home, introduced her to my friends. Then I brought her here. I brought that evil to Dharma.” Tears stung my eyes. “I’m not sure I can ever forgive myself for that.”
She rubbed my back and gripped me in a hug. “Well, I for one am glad you didn’t recognize her dark side.”
“What do you mean?” I pushed away from her and tossed my hands up in dismay. “If I’d known—”
“No.” She gripped my arms and forced me to look her in the eye. “You must never become so cynical that the first thing you see is the negative rather than the positive.”
“But I could’ve—”
She shook me. “Promise me.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, giving in to the inevitable. “I promise I’ll be a naive twit for the rest of my life.”
“That’s my good girl,” she said, smiling. “My little twit.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Come on, sing with me,” she teased. “You know the words, ‘Look for the silver lining . . .’”
I laughed. “Oh, my dear God.”
After Derek and Gabriel worked out the scenario they would follow to trap Alice (or whatever her name was), we settled in my parents’ quiet office. Gabriel collected his thoughts, then called Alice from his cell phone.
“Hey, babe,” he drawled.
It seemed Alice recognized his voice immediately.
“Of course I knew it was you,” he said a moment later. “I hate to mention it, but you’re still missing your target.”
She responded, and he chuckled. “Yeah, you always were a good shot. If you really wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have missed.”
She spoke for another few seconds. Gabriel rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah, I love you and miss you, too.” He looked at me and winked.
Derek watched, his mouth twisted in a tight grin.
“Here’s the thing, Mary Grace,” Gabriel said finally. “I want in on the book deal.”
He listened to her protests for a full minute.
“You’ve shot me twice now, Mary Grace,” he said at length, his tone hardening. “I’m not letting this one go. I’m in, or I take it to the cops.”
They spoke for another minute. Gabriel told her he’d meet her at BABA late the following afternoon. Then he disconnected the call and we finalized our plans.
That night, after Gabriel fell asleep in my guest bedroom, I brought linens and blankets out to the living room, where Derek insisted on sleeping. He met me halfway and took the bundle from me. “A blanket is all I need.”
I spread the sheet over the couch and began to slip the ends under the cushions. “You’ll sleep better if you have sheets and a pillow.”
“I daresay nothing will help me sleep well tonight.”
Concerned, I asked, “Do you want some warm milk?”
“No.” He tucked the sheet under the last thick cushion, then sat on his makeshift bed and reached for me. “Come here.”
With a smile, I climbed on top of him, cradled his face in my hands, and kissed him.