Moondance (46 page)

“You’ve gotta stop sneaking up on me,” Althea said. Michael laughed.

“I’ll work on that.” Althea stood aside, putting the courier package on the hall table for now.

“Thanks.” She led him into the kitchen. “It smells great in here.” He held out one of the bags. “I brought appetizers.” She looked inside: a bottle of hot pepper vodka. And jalapeño-stuffed olives.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“We don’t have to have it, I thought —”

“I’m kidding, honest. I love martinis.” Althea took the bottle and put it in the freezer.

“I knew that.” Althea tilted her head at him.

“Wonder how.”

She poured him a glass of wine and they sat at opposite ends of the sofa in the living room, facing one another. Althea turned toward him, resting her chin in her hand. He took a sip of wine and looked into her eyes.

“So how you doin’?”

“I’m good. Been spending some time on my own. Thinking a lot. I’m writing again.”

“That’s great. I’m really glad you called. I didn’t know whether you would.”

“You gave me a few things to think about.”

“It took them a full three days to pry my foot out of my throat. It was messy. The paramedics never saw anything like it.”

“You taking it all back?”

“Hey, I said it was messy, but you know, sometimes getting to the truth is messy. Doesn’t make it less true.” His eyes met hers. “Do you think the truth sets us free?” Althea sipped some wine and smiled.

“I don’t know. Depends on what you mean by truth. I think that running from our own truth is confining. Even dangerous to our sanity.”

“I agree. I’ve been there.”

“Me too. Took me a while to figure that one out. When you saw me on the side of the road, I was running. And at the gas station, too.”

“I know.”

“I was still figuring it all out. Still am.”

“Me too.” They sat in silence, listening to jazz.

“What’s in the bag?” Althea asked. Michael looked down, as if he was embarrassed. He shifted forward, handed it to her. Althea reached inside and pulled out a book. She looked at the cover, which contained
a drawing of a man standing on top of a staircase shaped like a pyramid,
his arms up.
The Links
, by Michael A. Foster.

“This is yours.”

“Hot off the press.”

“You’re a freakin’
writer
.”

“Newly out of the closet.”

“And you never
told
me! Even with all the stuff you knew I was going through. I can’t
believe
it.” She leaned forward and hit him on the arm with his book, and he laughed, spilling some wine as he swerved to move out of the way.

“Hey, you got an early glimpse of my first draft. That’s more than most people.”

“
Again
with the muddy notepaper. Well that’s great, good for you. Vince is helping me with mine right now too. We’re close to going to print.”

“I know. He’s excited about it.”

“Am I the last to know
everything
?” She took another swipe at him, as she got up to pour them another glass of wine. She topped up his glass, and sat down again, closer this time, their legs touching. The silence was comfortable.

“Would you like it if I kissed you?” she asked. Michael smiled broadly.

“A woman who knows what she wants. I like it.”

“I do know what I want.” She moved to the floor on her knees, and leaned between his legs, her hands on his sides. He leaned forward and his moss green eyes closed as she kissed him softly for the first time. His finger traced her cheek.

“I used to wonder what you looked like when you smiled. How your dimples looked,” he said.

“Now you know,” she said, smiling, kissing him again, until the air around their bodies felt very warm. She climbed on the couch and laid across him, putting her head on his chest. His arms wrapped around her. She could hear his heart softly thumping. Michael stroked her hair, and she drifted away, feeling as if she was returning home after a long journey. He kissed her forehead.
This is part of it
, Albert said.
The circle is complete. It’s why it can happen now. Not the end, the beginning
.

With each stroke of Michael’s hand on her hair came a deep comfort, a certainty. Not specifically of what she would do in the future, or of what they might do together, but of a faith in her ability to understand the process, to
know
and to
grow
. The destination, where she ended up, where they ended up, didn’t matter. It was the journey, the walk, the dance, the surrender.

The courage to wish upon the moon, and the faith to let it unfold.

As Michael stroked her hair, she could feel his heart on her cheek and pulled him closer, her desire mounting. She had been given an opportunity, a choice. And so had he. They’d receive more. Every day.

My creation. My life. My choice
. She moved her hand up, into his hair, over his lips. She wanted him inside her, she wanted
him
. As she drifted, Albert’s eyes danced in delight, and Sophie’s gaze was intense, like her own. Gregory Brecht’s thick mop of hair fell over his forehead. Gregory, taken too young. Michael’s heart. Gregory’s music. Michael’s hand stroking her hair. Albert watching.
In a flash, she knew
. She directed
her thought to Albert.

“I knew Gregory. Sophie didn’t know that I knew him, too.”

“Yes. She knew, of course, but not consciously.”

“Sophie wanted to be with Gregory. Michael.”

“Yes.”

“But how would that have worked? She couldn’t come into
me
. Could she?”

“Not directly, no.” Althea felt the hairs on her arms stand up as Michael caressed them.

“As a child of mine.”

“Yes.”

“Her obsession with me finding someone, and me having children. And wanting to control every aspect of life. And death.”

“Yes.” Michael hugged her tighter, stroking her back, and she nuzzled into his neck, smelling his scent, warm and clean, breathing him in, exhaling her thoughts to Albert.

“I knew Gregory.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“You know.” Althea kissed Michael again, immersed in him, their tongues intertwined. She held him tight, her cheek moving over his cheek to his chest, listening to his heart, each beat taking her back to another time.
An explosion. A fire. The chop of a helicopter
.

His face took on a resonance then, a glow, a depth, like a rip in the fabric of reality, and for a moment, she saw it all: the times they had known each other, his many faces and her own, and the most recent, as a young man, wounded, and she had been there, a fellow soldier, the blood magnified in his face as they lay close. The fear. The comfort they had found in each other in the end. The promise their souls made.

“We died together. In Vietnam.”

“Now you know.”

“Now I know.”

“You know what?” Michael whispered. His face was close, his breath deepening, and she looked at him with desire through slitted eyes, her hands moving over his shoulders, his chest, his erection. She wanted him with every cell of her body. More than Kevin, more than Daniel, more than all of them put together.
It was all worth it, the pain, the wait, everything. Perfect
. Her whole body was on fire, and she imagined what it would be like to be underneath him as he orgasmed, what it would be like to take him into her mouth, to drive him wild, for hours, for days.

Althea felt a surge of emotion rush over her, soft and joyful. Her eyes filled with tears. Michael kissed her cheek, then her neck.

“I know ... what I’m supposed to write next,” she whispered.

“What?” His voice took on that soft teasing quality he had sometimes. As he spoke, he kissed her nose, her cheek, then shifted so that the length of their bodies lay close.
Familiar
.

“How we met.”

“Which time?” He kissed her neck, his hands under her shirt, moving his lips over her breasts, sucking gently as she groaned, her hands in his hair. She pulled him on top of her, kissing him fully, urgently.

“All of them,” she said, sinking into the dreamtime.

All of them
.

to be continued

• • •

Life is like a ride in an amusement park. And when you go on it, you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it’s very brightly colored and it’s very loud and it’s fun — for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question, is this real, or is this just a ride? And other people have remembered and they come back to us. They say “Hey! Don’t worry, don’t be afraid, ever, because, this is just a ride.”

— Bill Hicks (1961–1994)

• • •

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Reflection questions

1. Have you ever had a painful situation in your life recur again and again? Why do you think that happened for you?

2. Do you think that Althea was right to forgive Tori and Kevin?

3. Do you think Michael was right to forgive Lara?

4. Have you ever been in a relationship where you gave up your power to another, like Althea did with George?

5. Karmically, why do you think Michael chose Lara as his wife?

6. In Moondance, Althea’s mother Sophie is big-time into control. Do you like Sophie? What do you think about how Sophie handles her life?

7. Do you believe in spirit guides, like Albert?

8. Do you believe in karma and past lives? Why or why not?

9. Do you believe that every choice you make can have enormous implications for you and those around you?

10. Do you understand why your life has unfolded the way it has?

11. Do you have an idea of what your purpose is?

• • •

Althea’s reading list

KAREN M. BLACK
,
TheSoulmateSite
Thought-provoking, inspirational essays about Love, plus lots of practical resources

Dr. David R. Hawkins, M.D., Ph.D.
,
Power vs. Force — The Hidden Determinants of Human Behavior
(Carlsbad, California: Hay House, 1995)

Esther and Jerry Hicks
,
Ask and It Is Given
(Carlsbad, California: Hay House, 2004)

M. Scott Peck, M.D.
,
Further Along the Road Less Traveled — The Unending Journey Toward Spiritual Growth
(New York: Touch-stone, 1993)

Neale Donald Walsch
,
Conversations with God — Book
I (G.P. Putnum’s Sons, 1996)

Brian Weiss, M.D.
,
Many Lives, Many Masters
(New York: Simon & Schuster, 1988)

Brian Weiss, M.D.
,
Only Love is Real — A Story of Soulmates Reunited
(New York: Warner, 1996)

Documentary
:
What the Bleep do we Know?
whatthebleep.com

Gary Zukav
,
The Seat of the Soul
(New York: Simon & Schuster, 1989)

David Wilcock
,
The Source Field investigations: The Hidden Science and lost civilizations behind the
2012
prophecies
(New York, Penguin Group, 2011) DivineCosmos.com

Gina Cerminara
,
Many Mansions: The Edgar Cayce Story on Reincarnation
(Copyright 1950, first Signet printing, July 1999)

Do you remember?

(you are not imagining it)

Karen’s self led audio program explores how our hearts and bodies change as we awaken. Are you experiencing emotions and situations you don’t understand?