"Emerald O'Brien… our paths seem meant to cross." He knelt beside me, ignoring everybody else. "I can never apologize enough for what my stepbrother did to you. There's nothing I can say that probably hasn't already gone through your mind. I'm just grateful you're going to be okay. You proved my innocence. I'm in your debt." He stood and offered his hand. I'd thought he'd been imposing enough at the memorial. Now I felt completely dwarfed. I gingerly accepted his gesture. He squeezed a little too tightly, and I pulled away.
"Actually, I prefer to think that I helped Susan find some sort of peace." His eyes twinkled. I knew he heard my subtext. "How's your mother?"
He cocked one eyebrow. "My mother is feeling much better, now that I'm out of jail. She wanted me to apologize to you. She's not a woman who says 'I'm sorry' easily, so please accept it as it is meant."
I nodded in silence, then curiosity got the better of me. "May I ask you something?"
"Of course. What is it?"
I glanced around the room. Everyone was waiting, poised to see what I'd say. I cleared my throat, feeling conspicuous. "Why doesn't your mother do something with that house and its contents? There are some lovely pieces of furniture in there, and I'd think she would want to preserve them."
Walter laughed. "Ever the shopkeeper, aren't you? I'll tell you why—the house belonged to Joshua. My stepfather willed the money to me, but he left the house and everything in it to Joshua on the stipulation that he not be told about it until Joshua asked about his own inheritance. When he heard I'd inherited the money, he took off. It was a game of power, if you will, between a stubborn man and his even more stubborn son."
The irony made my head spin. "So here was Joshua, angry at you because he thought you had inherited everything, when in reality he could have been a wealthy man if he'd swallowed his pride enough to ask."
"Yes, something like that. I followed my stepfather's wishes and kept quiet about it. Since Joshua is dead, the property automatically reverts to my mother and me. She wants to donate the china from it to your shop—you may sell it or keep it as you like. Consider it our way of saying thank you."
I gasped. There was thousands of dollars' worth of beautiful china in that house. Visions of table settings began to dance in my head.
"Please accept. We want you to have it."
Even though Walter was a rat, even though for a time I had really believed he was guilty, even though his mother was a fruitcake… I couldn't resist such a fortuitous gift. And besides' I'd earned it. "Thank you, I accept."
"Fine, I'll have it shipped over to you when we take inventory of the house and appraise what's there. It might be several months, but you have my word. And now, good-bye." He bobbed his head, even to Harlow, and Andrew showed him out.
"You realize you've just been bought off," Harlow said. "His way of asking you to keep quiet about his family's dirty laundry."
I gave her a smile. "It doesn't matter whether I say a word; the press will get wind of it by tomorrow, if they haven't already. And he really didn't kill Susan."
Harlow and James made their farewells. As they pulled out of the driveway, there was a squeal of laughter from the back door as Kip and Miranda raced into the room. They crowded around me, Kip chanting "Mommy! Mommy!" as Miranda dropped to the floor by my side and grabbed my hand.
"Cinnamon took us over to Ida's." Randa squeezed my fingers so tightly I thought she was going to bruise them.
"What happened? What's going on? Why are you in a cast?" Kip darted from one side of my chair to the other in a frenzy of motion. He grabbed me around the neck and planted a big kiss on my cheek.
As I stared at my children, it hit me just what I would have lost if Joshua had won. I could be sleeping forever in the basement of that old house. Shivering, I brushed my hand across my eyes, glad that I was sitting down. There had been too much death recently, I'd seen too many twisted sides to the soul—both in body and in spirit. I pulled Kip and Miranda close, smelling their hair, holding them safe.
"Mom? Mom, what's wrong?" Kip looked at me, worry creasing his forehead. I wanted to speak, to tell him how much I loved him, but I couldn't find the words. I buried my face in their hair and kissed the top of their heads. Overwhelmed, I cast a glance at Murray. She nodded, reading my expression, and motioned for them to come over to her. "How about if we decorate the tree so your mother has something pretty to look at? She's had a rough day."
They cheered as Andrew helped her carry in the blue spruce. I told Murray where to find the decorations, and she brought them out. They strung the lights first, then the sparkling garlands of beads, and after that the kids took over. As they chattered away, their moods lifted with each glimmering orb they hung on the tree. Andrew retreated to the kitchen and returned carrying a tray of hot cocoa and sugar cookies.
Murray poured the cocoa. By the time everyone held a cup, I had managed to get my emotions under control. I lifted my mug in salute. "I propose a toast. May all our spirits—and all the spirits—be joyful this Christmas." I nodded to Kip. "Turn on the lights, hon." As he plugged them in, the tree lit up in a shimmering rainbow of colors. The silver and gold globes reflected the dazzling array. I drew in a slow breath.
Randa ran over to kneel beside my chair, her head resting on my lap. "Thank you, thank you, Mom. It's so pretty."
Murray rested her hands on Kip's shoulders as he stared up at the glittering tree. "This is prettier than any tree we ever had," he said, his whisper hushed and reverent.
He was right. The tree was the prettiest one we ever had. Andrew and Murray excused themselves to make dinner, taking the kids with them. I leaned back in the chair, watching the lights twinkle. Samantha jumped into my lap, nesting in a circle before she curled up to purr. I thought about calling Randa in to tell her that she was going to Space Camp, but decided to put it off until after dinner. She would be okay not knowing for another thirty minutes, and I needed the time to sort out the whirlwind of feelings racing through my heart.
Snow was falling again, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. I leaned back in the recliner, clinging to the peace that had descended on the house, when I got the sensation that I was being watched. A glance around the room found Susan peeking out from behind the Christmas tree. Behind her stood the pale shade of another woman. It was Diana, with the shyest of smiles.
Susan's eyes sparkled, reflecting the lights. We looked at one another—I in my world and she in her shadowy realm—and a tremendous wave of relief washed over me. She would find her peace, and so would her daughter, and I was responsible for helping light their way. Susan held up her hand and they faded from sight.
Just then, Miranda came racing in from the kitchen. "Mom, this was on the kitchen table—it's got your name on it." She handed me a gift-wrapped package. I frowned, wondering who it was from as I unwrapped it. The paper fell away to reveal a thick volume—a copy of Susan's last novel. I opened the volume. Blinking back tears, I stared at the title page. In bold, looping letters, it read:
To Emerald O'Brien,
A woman who sparkles brighter than jewels,
Yours in eternal gratitude,
Susan Mitchell.
Charm
Mystic Moon Protection Charm
6-inch circle of purple satin or felt
1 yard of green satin ribbon
2 drops of lavender essential oil 1/2 cup of dried rose petals
1/2 teaspoon of each (dried):
Sage
Lavender
Black peppercorns
Spearmint
If edges of material are ragged, you might want to hem them using a very small seam allowance. Mix the dried herbs and rose petals; mound in the center of the satin or felt. Add the drops of lavender oil on top of the herbs. Bring the sides of the satin or felt together to enclose the herbs; then wind the ribbon around the neck of the sachet nine times while you focus on the energy of protection surrounding your home or car (depending on where you want to keep the charm). Tie the r
ibbon together with three firm knots and keep in your bedroom or your car. And always remember: Use your common sense. Lock your doors and keep an eye on your purse, because all the magic in the world won't do any good if you haven't taken practical measures first.
Yasmine Galenorn, Ghost of a Chance
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