Occult Suspense for Mothers Boxset: The Nostalgia Effect by EJ Valson and Mother's by Michelle Read (2 ebooks for one price) (39 page)

CHAPTER 57

The following week
I’m more than relieved to step into the solace of the Marketing department and get my mind off of the days before. Olivia didn’t take the news that we were splitting up as badly as I anticipated, but the night we told her I heard her quietly crying in her bed until she fell asleep. All the while I wondered if we were doing the right thing. I hate hurting her, but I know that other things in our future and other people could be sacrificed if we take the easy way out. And neither of us would be happy in the end – including Olivia.

Joe and I have a long talk and decide that we will get the divorce paperwork started immediately. Luckily, Oregon has a pretty easy “do-it-yourself” process, and since we aren’t fighting over any assets, we should be able to get through this quickly and simply.

We decide that we will take turns with Olivia every other weekend, but to avoid taking her from her environment, we will alternate staying with her at our house while the other person stays somewhere else. Joe will also pick her up after school every day and bring her home as usual. On Wednesday’s he will come over and have dinner with her and I am welcome to join them.

I decide to let him have the first weekend with her and I will go stay at my mom’s. She is heading out of town to visit family so I will have the house to myself while I watch her dog.
I’m actually looking forward to it.

Since Stacy lives down the street from my mom’s, we decide to have a BBQ on Saturday if the weather holds up. It has been surprisingly warm for mid-April, so we plan to take advantage of it.

The work week goes by quickly. However, there is a change in the atmosphere between Michael and me. It is familiar. Sort of a mix between flirtation and comfortable buddies. One day when I stepped out of my office to go to the copy room, I ran into Michael in the hallway. He surprised me by jokingly picking me up and placing me back in my office.

Luckily no one was looking, but it was funny….and familiar. The best part was feeling his embrace. Even if that is not what was intended. For just a brief moment, I could smell him, feel him and pretend that he knew who I was to him.

On Friday night Stacy and I have another girl’s night and split a bottle of wine at my mom’s. We sit on the back patio and look up at the big night sky. All the stars are shining bright.

We talk about life, work, vacations we want to take…her chaotic love life. “You know, I think Michael likes you,” she says, breaking a moment of silence.

I try to not react and play it cool. “Yeah, maybe, but we are just friends,” I say.

“Mmm, hmmm,” she teases.

I giggle. “Look, trust me, I like Michael. But
I’m still going through this stuff with Joe and it wouldn’t be right to rush into something,” I explain.

“Well, my d
ear, you may have to rush because you don’t have much time until he leaves. May is approaching quickly,” she says.

Damn it! In the midst of all the chaos with Joe and trying to get Michael to notice me, I failed to remember that we are in a time crunch here.

What will I do if John doesn’t get back in time to get me out of this situation before Michael leaves? What if Michael leaves and that is that? What if he goes back to Sweden and we are still just friends? If I am stuck here, living my life all over again, then it could mean living my life without him…and without Stella.

I can’t remember all of the details of how Michael and I finally got together. Only the “Deja vu dazes” give me clues, and those are sporadic. And even if I could remember, Astrid warned me not to intervene and try to control the outcome. I am walking a fine line and hanging in a balance that is tough to navigate.

My heart starts to race and
I’m doing my best not to panic in front of Stacy. But I know I have to spend as much time with Michael as I can, without forcing myself on him. I remember enough about Michael to know that he doesn’t like aggressive women. Confident, yes, assertive, yes, but desperate, no.

“So, who is coming to the barbecue tomorrow?” I ask Stacy.

“Um….my sister, her baby, her boyfriend, you, Bjorn, Michael and their roommate, Lewis.” she says.

“For sure, all of them?” I ask.

“Uh huh. Michael is even cooking. He wants to make a shrimp fettuccine dish, so he will be over earlier to cook since their kitchen is lousy,” She replies.

“So will I,” I say.

“Of course you will,” she teases.

CHAPTER 58

At 4:00 p.m.
the next day I walk over to Stacy’s from my mom’s house. The afternoon is unseasonably warm, but I know it will be chilly after dark. I am now wishing I would have brought a sweater. I am wearing a jean skirt, flip flops and a striped t-shirt. I didn’t want to over dress, but I have managed to look cute for the occasion.

I take my time walking while focusing on my breathing. My nerves have been running high all day. I slept in this morning after tossing and turning all night. Between the wine swirling in my head and anxiety about Michael leaving soon, I couldn’t settle down and didn’t fall asleep until sometime after midnight.

I managed to get up around 10:00
a.m., then ran down to the private community gym that my mom has access to. The exercise helped stave off my stress for most of the day, but when it came time to leave, I started to feel sick with nervousness.

Part of me wants to tell Michael the truth, but I know that’s irrational. It’s
highly
unlikely that I would be able to sit him down and say,
“Michael, you probably won’t believe this, but I’m your wife from the future. Somehow I woke up in my past, but one that I never actually lived. But before I woke up here, you and I were married and we had a daughter. Can you please just believe me and stay with me for the rest of whatever I have left of this life?”
Yep, sounds crazy even to me.

I’m half a block away when my cell phone rings from my back pocket. It’s Astrid. “Hi, Astrid,” I answer.

“Jennifer, I’m sorry to bother you. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was more of a nagging sensation,” she rambles. “Anyway, I just wanted to call you and tell you to
relax
,” she says.

I’m a bit annoyed that she is so tuned in to me, but I appreciate her support nonetheless. “Thanks,” I reply.

“Look, I’m sure you are getting tired of my input, but I want you to enjoy what is happening right now,” she explains.

“But he is leaving soon, Astrid,” I whine. “I have about a month before he goes and I’m afraid I will never see him again,” I continue, beginning to panic.

“Shhhh, none of that,” she chides. “Listen, I can’t make sense of any of this either. But remember that our fate and destiny is formed by us taking opportunities. It sounds like recently you have had a few that have just manifested on their own. I still can’t see any future visions, but for some reason I’m at peace with what you are currently doing in regards to Michael. Oddly enough
I
have actually relaxed. Ha, ha!” she says, laughing.

I roll my eyes, thinking, “That makes one of us.”

“Hey, this is frustrating for me, don’t misunderstand me,” she continues. “I have never been around someone whose future I couldn’t read, but who I could sense so well,” she explains. “BUT, if
I
were you I would go along with this. You may or may not end up together, Honey, but the fact of the matter is you have this time with him. Don’t think about tomorrow, don’t think about next year, or ten years from now. Just be with him now, while you can,” she encourages.

I’m almost on the verge of tears. She is right. This is what I need to do. Live in the moment and get whatever time I have with Michael now…and appreciate it. God knows I took it for granted right before I arrived in this life.

Distracted by my conversation with Astrid, I don’t realize that I have walked right up to Stacy’s driveway. I stop to collect myself for a moment before I go in. I have to enjoy this. I need to be upbeat and positive. I can’t sour the mood.

I hear a car pull up behind me and park. When I turn around to look, I see it is Lewis’ car. Michael is in the passenger seat and Bjorn is in the back.

“I gotta go,” I say.

“OK, Love,” she says, her voice bright.

We hang up and I wave at Michael. He steps out of the car. He is dressed in shorts and a short sleeve button up shirt. He has a big smile on his face. “Hey! You here to help me cook?” he jokes.

I shrug. “Sure!” I say.

“Great. You can chop all the onions, because I’m not crying tonight,” he says with a sarcastic smile. I can only hope that I won’t be either.

He heads towards me carrying a grocery bag and a six pack of beer in one hand, then steps straight up to me and gives me a big friendly hug.
I’m taken back a bit, but I know this is him. I remember that he is warm and always greets close friends and family this way. This is a good sign.

I take the beer from his hand and carry it inside. This small act comes naturally to me. We walk into the living room, moving close together. Stacy has lively, acoustic music playing on the radio.

“Hey guys!” she says greeting us all with hugs. “Come on in. Michael, the kitchen is all yours,” she says, pointing towards the kitchen.

Everyone easily settles in. I help set out wine and chips. The guys open their beers and Michael gets to work cooking. The happy ambience pervades the house. We are all light hearted and living in this moment together.

Stacy heads out to the patio with her sister, Bjorn and Lewis. This leaves Michael and me alone in the kitchen.

“Here, can you chop this?” he asks, handing me an onion. I dutifully take out the cutting board and knife and start my task.

We are quietly preparing a meal together, something I feel we have done many times. At some point we start singing along to a song together. It is easy, natural. We are content in this space together.

Dinner is delicious. When I taste Michael’s food
I’m thrown back into a moment of familiarity. It tastes like home. I am instantly comforted by its aroma and flavor.

After dinner, Michael pulls out Stacy’s abandoned acoustic guitar and starts to strum. Her sister’s ten month-old daughter crawls over to him and pulls herself up to stand near his legs. She begins to bounce along with the song he is playing. He looks down at her and smiles while he continues to play.

I am thrown into another flash of memory. I see Stella. I see Michael singing in Swedish to her. Then my memory jumps and I see him teaching Olivia to play the guitar when she is eight. I am quickly pulled back into the present. My face feels hot and
I’m a bit dizzy.

I glance around the room, but no one seems to notice my frazzled state. I slip out of the room and go to the patio for some fresh air. Breathe, breathe, breathe, I tell myself.

I allow the evening breeze to kiss my face as I turn towards the setting sun. I close my eyes and focus on getting my heart to slow down. I feel a hand touch the middle of my back. I jump and turn to see who it is.

“Hey, you OK?” Michael asks.

“Oh, yeah, I just got warm in there,” I reply.

“So, how are things with you? Everything going alright at home?” he asks, concerned.

“Yes, actually, it’s really good,” I say.

Michael pulls two patio chairs over for us to sit in. For the next hour we get lost in conversation. I explain Joe’s and my situation and tell him what our plans are. He talks more about finishing school when he gets back home and the traveling that he wants to do. I tell him I want to go to Paris. He jokes that if I end up going, he will meet me there.

We talk about Sweden and what it was like growing up there, and more about his friends and family. As he tells me about it, I feel as if I could finish most of his sentences. I don’t remember things in detail, but it all sounds like stories that I have heard before. Probably because I have.

CHAPTER 59

The night continues on with more wine, beer, singing and laughter. It’s midnight when Bjorn
 passes out on the couch. Stacy’s sister and her family have gone home, so only the five of us are left. Stacy and Lewis seem to hit it off. They spent most of the evening flirting and talking. Throughout the evening Michael and I have also managed to have some deeper conversations about relationships, life and the future.

It’s getting late, but Michael doesn’t feel comfortable driving and Lewis isn’t in any shape to drive either. After a while, I realize Stacy and Lewis have disappeared.

“Uh oh,” I say to Michael, when he notices their absence as well.

“Great,” he says sarcastically. “Lewis has a tendency to get clingy, so this might not be ideal,” he explains.
I nod in understanding.

“Well, I should be heading back to my mom’s now. Her dog needs to go out,” I say. I don’t want to leave, but I can’t shirk my responsibilities.

“OK, I will walk you home,” he says, rising. He grabs his sweater from the back of a chair as I head to the front door. I suddenly feel something drape the back of my shoulders, which startles me. I grab my shoulder and feel his sweater. “It’s cold outside,” he remarks. I smile.

We quietly make our way down the sidewalk. The night is very still. The houses are dark. Occasionally a glow of a television beams from a bedroom. I hear crickets and frogs from the nearby wetlands. We say nothing as we walk. We are both content with hearing the night noises and feeling the cool brisk air.

We arrive quicker to my mom’s house than I anticipated. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” Michael asks, as I unlock the front door.

“Go right ahead,” I say, walking inside.

The dog quickly makes her way to greet us, wagging her tail and sniffing Michael’s legs. He kneels down to her level and pets her. She nuzzles his chin and gives it a quick lick, which makes him laugh.

“Sweet dog,” he says.

“The bathroom’s the first door on the left,” I say, while taking off my shoes. He slips his off as well and makes his way down the hall.

While he is in the bathroom, I wonder if he took his shoes off to stay or if it is habit. I realize he did this at Stacy’s too, so there may be nothing behind it. I’m almost certain it is common courtesy in Sweden.

I walk to the kitchen and grab a glass for water. My throat is sore from all the laughing and talking. I hear the toilet flush, the sink turn on and off and the lock unlock. Michael meanders to the kitchen, taking time to look at the artwork and pictures on the wall.

“Do you want some water?” I ask.

“Yes, thanks,” he says while casually walking towards a picture of me on the mantel. “Pretty,” he say’s holding it up to show me.

I blush. It is my senior picture and one that I actually like and don’t mind it being out. I was so young, flawless and unaware. “Thanks,” I say, while handing him a glass of water.

“Is this your mom?” he asks, while picking up a picture of her and her husband at the beach.

“Yep, that’s my mom and stepdad,” I reply, sitting down on the couch.

“I bet you were a cute kid,” he says.

“I was. Wanna see?” I tease.

“Humble too,” he jokes.

I get up and open the cabinet under the television stand. Inside is a box of old pictures my mom keeps close by, as Olivia likes to take them out and look through them when we visit.

“Wow, that’s a heavy box,” he says, taking it from me and sitting down on the couch. Before I get a chance to sit next to him he has already opened the box and taken a stack of pictures out. “Cute,” he says, showing me a picture of my three year-old self in a pink tutu and orange bathing suit.

I smile.
“I really wanted to be a ballerina when I was little,” I explain.

For the next thirty minutes we sit close together on the couch and rifle through my childhood memories. I point out family members and tell him about places we went, friends I had. He listens intently, making occasional eye contact, but mostly just studies the pictures.

“It’s funny. In some of these pictures, you look familiar,” he says unexpectedly. “You look like someone I know, but I can’t place it. Maybe like a girl I grew up with, I think. It’s sort of strange,” he shrugs it off.

I catch my breath. I don’t know what to say. Could it be that he remembers looking at these, or something is resonating with him? Of course he would have seen all these pictures at some point in our future, but that hasn’t happened yet, so how could he recognize them?

“Do you want a beer?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Sure, why not,” he replies, still looking through the pictures.

I grab us each a beer, then turn on the stereo. My mom has a CD in it that I gave her of one of
 my favorite bands, so I play it softly for background music.

“The moon is so bright,” I say, noticing how the backyard is lit up by its shining light. “I think I’m going to go sit outside and look at the stars,”

“I’ll come too,” he says, getting up.

I grab a blanket that is draped over the couch and wrap it around my shoulders. The night is cool and quiet. The feeling of the crisp air on my face helps with the rush of heat I feel when I am with him.
I sit down in a reclining patio chair. Michael finds another one and pulls it closer to me. We would be touching if the chair arms weren’t between us.

We sit quietly for a moment, staring at the sky and listening to the sounds of crickets. I have always loved it out here. Though it is a typical suburban neighborhood, the part of town that it rests in is close to the river and hay fields. It’s a little country-ish and the big open sky above has always made me feel like I can breathe better.

“I’m sad that I have to leave soon,” Michael says, out of the blue.

I turn and look at him. My future husband is right before me. And in this light he doesn’t appear as young. He looks like the man I recall waking up to every morning and kissing goodnight before bed every night. He is through and through connected to me. He just doesn’t yet know how much.

My heart is in my throat. I feel a lump swell and I fight back tears. I swallow hard, for fear if I speak, and I will choke on the emotions I am trying to hold inside.

I nod.
“Me too,” I say quietly.

He looks back up at the sky. “Do you believe in soul mates?” he asks.