Tymber Dalton - Many Blessings

A vision of an event that had happened nearly a hundred years earlier.

An unrecorded, unreported crime, but one that Julie knew to the depths of her soul had occurred in that house exactly as she’d seen it.

Something that occurred before George murdered Evelyn and their children. A mystery that had lingered in the county’s history.

Something that could happen again if she didn’t stop it and rid George Simpson’s dark energy from that house—and from Sami’s husband, Steven Corey—for good.

A little after nine fifteen Thursday morning, Julie finished loading all her equipment in her kiwi green Honda Element.

“At least let me come with,” Mandaline begged as she watched. “Don’t go out there alone.”

Julie picked up Pers and hugged him tightly to her before kissing the top of his head. “No, I need you here.” She handed the trembling dog to her. “He hates storms.”

“He’ll live. I—”

Julie held up her hands. “Please, I know what I’m doing.” She hugged Mandaline, the little dog sandwiched between them. “I love you, sister. Take care of things for me. Promise?”

Every instinct in Mandaline’s body screamed how wrong this was, what a bad idea it was. But all she could do was nod. “Okay,” she whispered. “I promise. I love you, too, sister.”

Julie kissed her cheek before stepping back. She cupped the dog’s head in her palms and kissed his nose. “And take care of Pers for me. He’s my baby.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Julie assured her. “I’ll be back later tonight. Then we can crack open a bottle of wine and chillax. Matt Barry and Sami Corey are sweethearts. You’re really going to like them.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about, from what you’ve told me.”

“I haven’t met Steve in person yet. From what Sami’s said, he’s a troubled man, but he has a good heart. What kind of person would I be to turn my back and spit in the face of the Goddess and the good fortune She’s given me all these years? That house is my history, too.”

“You can’t save your great-grandfather, or your grandaunt,” Mandaline quietly said. “They went on to the Summerland a long, long time ago. That’s not your burden to bear.”

“No, I can’t. But if I help them today, maybe I can keep someone else’s ancestors from taking the journey too soon.”

With one final hug and kiss for Mandaline, and one final hug and kiss for Pers, she climbed into her Element and drove off with a wave.

Mandaline closed her eyes and turned her face up to the overcast skies. Astarte, Hecate, Nokomis, Cerridwen, Nodens, please protect her and bring her safely home. So mote it be.

With a shiver in the growing breeze, she returned inside and bolted the back door behind her.

Julie waited until the first red light she hit to pull the large, bulky, sealed manila envelope from her purse and tuck it in the space between her front seats where it would be easily visible. On it she’d written Mandaline’s name and cell phone number, along with the store’s name, address, and phone number.

If her visions were wrong and she didn’t need what she’d prepared, no one need be any wiser. She could tear up the forms and documents she’d had witnessed and notarized late yesterday at her bank across the square while Mandaline had gone home to pick up her things from the trailer.

If her visions were right…

She sighed and prayed to the Goddess they weren’t, that the future remained unwritten.

Julie had told Mandaline to keep the store closed, but to feel free to answer the phone if she wanted. Julie had already called the other employees and gave them a paid day off because of the storm. And Julie had called the clients scheduled for readings that day and cancelled them as well. As the morning crept on, Mandaline kept one eye on the Weather Channel and their nonstop coverage of the tropical event, and one eye on the clock.

She tried to keep herself busy. Pers followed her around the store, never more than a few feet from her as Mandaline dusted, rearranged displays that didn’t need it, and raked and re-raked the little countertop zen garden every time she walked past it.

That still didn’t settle her.

She went upstairs to the apartment where, the evening before, Julie had her dump all her things in the corner of the living room. She pulled out the box with her personal candles. When Mandaline had packed, she’d hurriedly scooped everything off her altar into boxes, and grabbed her herbs and other ceremonial items, along with pictures, photo albums, her Tarot decks, and a few books.

She’d only packed a few changes of clothes. She didn’t care about them. Only the things she couldn’t replace came with.

She rummaged through her things until she found everything she needed. Downstairs, with her cat curled on the end of a couch in the front of the store and Pers sitting at her feet, she lit several candles and some incense, cast a circle, and called the quarters. With her eyes closed and her hands upraised, working from her heart she poured her prayers out to bring Julie home safely.

Lightning flashed, immediately followed by a loud boom that made her and both animals jump. The lights flickered briefly but didn’t go out.

“Thank you!” She smiled, taking it as a good sign from the Universe. She closed her ritual, opened the circle, and set out to keep herself distracted.

If it wasn’t for the growing wind, she’d change clothes and go outside and dance in the rain. Her chosen alignment was water, even though she did most of her rituals with candles.

Times like this it makes me wish I had a boyfriend. Someone to cuddle with in a storm.

She nixed that thought. Sorry, Goddess. I didn’t mean that. Forget I said that. So mote it be! she quickly added.

She’d sworn off men for a while, at least. The last several disastrous relationships she’d had, including a short-lived and ill-advised marriage followed by an even nastier divorce, left her angry, doubting herself, and full of pain. Not to mention she’d nearly turned her back on her spirituality for her ex-husband because his family was full of devout Evangelical Christians, and she’d been desperate for their acceptance.

Never again.

It wasn’t worth it. Not until she could become a better judge of character and, apparently, better in charge of herself.

I’m thirty-four. It’s not like I’m going to become a spinster. Hence why she’d rededicated herself to her craft, to her life. The right man would come to her in the Universe’s time, not hers.

She just had to sit back and let it happen. Now, she felt the most peace in her soul than she had in her entire adult life. No, she wasn’t rich, but she was happy. To her, that was far more valuable. She could pay her bills, keep a roof over her head, and still do what she loved, which was work for her best friend while also teaching and doing readings for customers.

She helped people.

She realized yes, despite not liking her friend’s dedication in this instance, Julie was right. They helped people, eased their spirits and souls, brought smiles to their faces. Brought them peace.

She let out a little cry as another boom rattled the windows and shook her from her thoughts.

By lunchtime the shop phone still hadn’t rang. She picked up Pers and carried him upstairs with her to make lunch. Halfway up the stairs, the lights flickered out again.

Above her, at the top of the stairwell, she saw a woman silhouetted against the light struggling in through translucent strips in the storm shutter covering the apartment’s living room window.