Bein' Dead Ain't No Excuse Page 10
“Neither,” I replied. “Do it back in a chignon and fasten in the sprigs of flowers that match my gown. The style and flowers will hide the singed portions I couldn’t cut off.” I pointed to several sprigs of dusty yellow and maroon silk flowers I’d placed on her workstation. “Keep it simple and no teasing. And light on the hairspray.”
Thankfully, Lizzie followed my instructions, and thirty minutes later I was finished. Mama was under the dryer, so I stopped to check with Deena for any unfinished preparations that needed doing before the ceremony at two. If none, I would head home for a quick lunch before leaving for the church. We had two hours before the ceremony began, and the photographer wanted to take pictures in the sanctuary first.
“Crunch time, sis,” I said as the stylist, Gail, fastened a curl into place with a rhinestone bobby pin.
Deena glanced down at her watch. “I’m almost done. What do you think? Is it too much?” She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. A hopeful look flitted across her flushed face.
“No, it’s perfect.” I touched the glossy curls pinned into place with rhinestones. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride, Deena. Now, is there anything I can do for you before I run to the house?”
“No, I just spoke with Cheryl, and everything is on schedule.” She handed Gail a twenty dollar tip and grabbed her purse from the counter. “Billie Jo and Roddy will meet us at the church around twelve-thirty.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “What about Mama? She’s not quite ready to leave. Is it safe to leave her here?”
I nodded. “Daddy’s not going to let her out of his sight. Once they’re finished here, they’re heading straight over to the church. Not much can happen between here and the church in the next thirty minutes.”
“Don’t count on it, Jolene. Our family isn’t known for having good luck. Are you positive I shouldn’t cancel the ceremony?”
The worry in her voice had my eyes glued to her face. Stress lined every smile line on her pretty features, and I felt another pang deep in my gut. Yes, I was worried about Mama, but I could hardly confess my fears to her on her special day. And especially not here at the shop where gossip traveled faster than the speed of light. No, I had to erect a façade of confidence and certainty and pray my family made it through the day without suffering a tragedy. If I failed in saving Mama, then at least I would see that Deena was happily married and assured of a new beginning. With that in mind, I took her by the arm and steered her towards the rear exit. “Stop fretting, sis. Have I let you down, yet? No? Then, come on, let’s get you married.”
****
Fairy-tale weddings are just that—fairy tales—and if my memory serves me well, Cinderella didn’t recover her lost glass slipper and bag the guy until the end of the story. Not only did she have to wait until the end for her HEA, but she had to endure dysfunctional family ties that continually threw a greased monkey wrench into her hastily made plans.
Well, that about sums up Deena’s wedding in a nutshell. Dysfunctional family, check. Pumpkins, check. Mice, check. Fairy godmother, check. (Scarlett popped in garbed in a transparent concoction of glittering pink angel dust which left nothing to the imagination. Good thing I was the only one who could see her naked butt cheeks.) Magic, for sure. Throw in Heaven’s assassin disguised as a grandmotherly singer, and you have one paranoid Maid of Honor walking down the aisle with the Pink Panther, my .38 special, tucked securely to my stocking encased thigh.
The spiritual equilibrium tilted off-kilter during the marriage ceremony. Ryder was just slipping the ring on Deena’s finger when the energy attunement skittered far to the left. My ears popped with the drop in the barometric pressure, and I noticed Deena doing the same. Over my shoulder, I heard Daddy clear his throat and Mama’s delicate cough. Scarlett, who perched invisibly atop the electronic organ, shot off into the air and circled the sanctuary like a buzzard before landing beside me with a whoosh that ruffled the hem of my maroon silk gown. I sneezed as a pink cloud settled over me.
“Ooohhh, something’s up in the cosmos,” she said with a twang. “I believe the long black train has pulled out of the station, Jolene. A sure sign that the Death Angel is gettin’ ready to do her stuff. Sorry, but it looks like the end for your momma.”
Adrenaline shot through my bloodstream, and I looked to the front pew where Mama and Daddy sat peacefully holding hands, their faces reflecting joy and total ignorance of the crisis unfolding in the invisible realm before them. This sounds crazy, but I swear to God, the deep-throated woo-woo of a locomotive sounded over Deena’s “I do.”
Now on high alert for any violence, I touched the gun strap under my gown, and I shifted my gaze to Sonya Jones standing beside the organ. Her cheery brown eyes caught mine, and she smiled as if she could read my thoughts. However she remained frozen in place, and I knew from yesterday’s rehearsal her next song was coming up after the vows were completed.
From the third row back, I spied Diane Downey and a pack of hens from the Ladies Auxiliary gawking at the back of Mama’s head like she was Medusa. No threat here. Only flapping jaws.
Midway down the aisle toward the back of the church sat Jimbo White and his wife, Caroline. The couple too had their hostile gaze penned on my parents, and another jolt of unease skittered down my back. Jimbo’s head jerked around, and his blue eyes glowered into mine. Yep, the peanut farmer definitely had a huge chip resting on his shoulder. However, I had to ask if he genuinely posed a physical threat to Mama? I doubted it. Jimbo was all bark and no bite. And Caroline? The poor woman looked much older than the thirty-six years I knew her to be. Hell, the woman had a half-dozen school-age children at home and one of them Lynette’s teenage years. No threat there.
Warm air blew in my ear. “Psst, Claiborne. I really need to shove off before the fireworks begin. The Boss warned me to stay away from you. If I’m caught here…well, its trouble, that’s what.”
I dared not answer with all eyes trained on the wedding party, so I lifted Deena’s bouquet to cover my mouth from prying eyes and whispered, “Don’t go yet, I may need you.”
“I’ve fulfilled my obligations.”
“Please stay for the reception.”
A shot of hot breath tickled my ear. “I’m not feeling it.”
The train whistle sounded closer. “Ten minutes,” I pleaded.
“Ten minutes, Claiborne, then I’m off to Stirling Castle.”
I lowered the bouquet as Pastor Inman pronounced Deena and Ryder husband and wife and presented the new couple to the congregation. With smiles wreathing their faces, they turned to face the guests, and I handed Deena her spray of fall flowers and took the best man’s arm as we fell in line behind them. Scarlett hitched a ride on my shoulder.
As Deena and Ryder proceeded to the reception hall, I waited at the double doors for my parents, as well as Billie Jo and Roddy. My niece, Lynette, a brown-haired, green-eyed beauty, was a knockout in a dark, navy, blue silk, sheath, and I experienced a pang of jealousy at her youthful exuberance. She immediately withdrew her cell phone from her shoulder bag.
“Cool dress, Aunt Jolene,” she said as she breached the door. “Where’s Becky and Hannah? I didn’t see them.”
“They haven’t returned from Israel,” I answered, and linked my arm in hers. “She hated to miss the wedding, but this was the only time Jacob could get away for an extended visit. His parents were anxious to meet Hannah.”
My daughter Rebecca, and son-in-law Jacob were due back in the States by Christmas, and I for one would be glad for their return. I missed my three-year-old granddaughter, Hannah, and planned to pull out all the stops for a huge Christmas celebration. One the entire family would never forget. That is if everything didn't go belly up.
But first, we had to get through today.
Together, we stepped outside into the warm, afternoon sunshine and mingled with all of the other guests meandering toward the reception hall. Diane and her gaggle of hens stood nearby chatting like a pack of hungry hyenas out for fr
esh game. They spied us coming and turned their backs—which was okay with me. After things settled down, I planned to speak with Mama about her finding new friends and possibly a new church home.
“I see the vultures are out in record numbers,” Scarlett buzzed in my ear.
Nearby, Jimbo and his wife were engaged in a conversation with Mr. Brown, a local farmer and longtime member of the church. There were sidelong glances, quick appraisals directed at us, and I knew they were discussing my parents’ abrupt reversal in selling the farm.
A flash of red caught my eye, and I turned to see Lilith Lacewell clinging to Preston’s arm as they picked their way through the crowd.
“What the hell is she doing here?” I said aloud. “And with Preston? He said he couldn’t get away from the hospital.”
“She’s an invited guest,” Roddy replied in a candid voice. “And my new client so lower your voice, Jolene. I need the work.”
Billie Jo reached out and caught my hand in hers. “I know how you feel, sis, but we need the money. Babies and college tuitions aren’t cheap, and we couldn’t turn her down.” She was trying to look strong and unshakable, but I read the uncertainty in her eyes.
The appearance of Sonya Jones out of thin air stilled my reply. Again, the spiritual equilibrium shifted heavily to the left, and the earth beneath me shook. I closed my eyes and drew in a long breath.
“Jolene honey, open your eyes.”
Stunned, to hear Granny Tucker’s voice—a sure sign that trouble was fast approaching—I opened my eyes and swung my head in all directions. First at Sonya as she poised ten feet from Mama, her face wreathed in serenity. Then at Lilith, as she and Preston bore down upon us. Even from this distance, I could see the evil intent shining from those amethyst eyes. Holy crap. The moment I had been dreading was upon me. I tore my eyes from the Dragon Lady as a loud police siren shattered the quiet murmurings, and the screech of tires on pavement brought the guests to a standstill. All eyes turned to Main Street as a speeding car shot out of a side street and hurled toward us with the police cruiser hot on his six.
Gunshots peppered the police cruiser as it closed in on the speeding car. Guests screamed and scrambled for cover as more shots pierced the warm, autumn day, and ricocheted off street signs and buildings.
I dove for cover behind a boxwood bush and peered around the greenery for any sign of my family. A scary, chill gripped me as I spied Mama standing frozen in place and Daddy lying face down on the sidewalk—motionless. Billie Jo, with Roddy’s body protecting her, huddled several feet from Daddy. Crouched behind the bush, I hitched my gown over my thigh and withdrew my gun from its holster for self-defense.
Bullets ricocheted off pavement close to Mama’s feet, but she remained frozen in place. Screams and shouts erupted around her, yet failed to penetrate her paralyzed state, and I instantly knew this was the moment of her death. Or not.
My breath slowed to a trickle as reality slammed into me—the do or die moment—okay, I was wrong about everything. Especially about myself and the sacrifice I’m willing to make for my family. I guess subconsciously I’ve always known I wouldn’t allow Heaven and Hell to play ping pong with Mama and me, so I guess today I’m going to die.
With my gun cradled in both hands, I scrambled from the bush and rushed to Mama’s side as another gunshot rang out. I pushed her to the ground but not before a bullet slammed into my chest. There was a sickening sensation of falling, then nothing as I gave into the suffocating darkness that comes with death.
Chapter Twelve
All I Have to do is Dream
I opened my eyes to a surreal world, and it took a moment or two before I realized that I was floating above my body, which was all too still for my liking, in a hospital bed. From my position near the ceiling, I had a bird’s eye view of the hospital room and nursing staff monitoring various machines and tubes attached to my body. The quiet of the room was broken only by the beeping heart monitor, and the whoosh, pause, whoosh of the ventilator.
A little freaked out by the scene below, I glanced down at my transparent hands and bare feet. “I must be dreaming.”
“I warned you to stay out of Heaven’s plans,” Scarlett spoke up from her perch on the overhead light fixture by the bed. “This is the price of interference.”
“So I’m dead?”
“Not yet, but soon.” She joined me on the ceiling. “I have it on good authority that your accommodations in Purgatory are being readied as we speak.”
I fingered a thin, silver string attached to my side just below my heart. It twanged as I stroked the smooth surface. “What’s this?”
“Your lifeline.”
“I believe I’m going to need more of an explanation, Scarlett.”
“It keeps you attached to your body.”
“Whatever for if I’m destined to die?”
“Your spirit and body must stay attached until Saint Peter pulls the plug.”
I zipped down to stand beside the bed and saw the thin, silver line attached directly to my body’s heart. A nurse adjusting one of the machines passed through me as if I were a breath of air. I shivered as I encountered her living energy. It stung like a bee sting, and I zipped back up to rejoin Scarlett.
“How long do I have?” I watched the nurse add another IV bag to the others.
“God only knows.”
“Will I get to tell my family goodbye?”
“Since you broke the rules, I’m pretty confident the answer is no.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“Yeah, well, we rule-breakers get a bad rap.”
“I did it for a good purpose,” I reasoned. “Shouldn’t I get points for that?”
“You’ll find out at your trial, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
A waft of antiseptic tickled my nose. “I hope my stay isn’t very long. It stinks in here.”
“I wouldn’t be so anxious to leave if I were you,” Scarlett said gravely. “Bein’ dead ain’t all I’ve cracked it up to be. It’s all work and no play.”
I gave her the once-over. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to be on your way to Scotland?”
“I told you there’d be consequences for my interference. The Boss grounded me when that snitch Sonya Jones reported back to headquarters.”
“Grounded? What does that mean?”
“It means I’m stuck here with you until my probation hearing for bailing out on my duties in Scotland. Damn. I knew I should’ve skipped the wedding.”
The sound of hushed voices halted our conversation, and I was surprised to see my parents walk up to the bed. Daddy reached for my hand, and Mama smoothed back a long lock of hair that had fallen across my face.
Both my parents were crying. I zipped down from the ceiling to stand at the headboard where I could see and hear them better.
“Jolene, can you squeeze my hand, honey?”
Daddy’s broken voice barely registered above the noisy machines. I willed my hand to move, but it remained motionless.
“The rest of the family is waiting to see you.” Mama sniffled and withdrew a tissue from her purse. “Deena and Ryder are here, and Billie Jo and Roddy. Lynette is too broken up, so she’s not here. I haven’t called Becky yet, but I will as soon as we know your prognosis.”
She broke down then, and Daddy dropped my hand to rush around the bed to her side. Taking her hand in his, he gently steered her out of the ICU. Once they’d gone, I rejoined Scarlett.
“There has to be some way to reverse this present crisis,” I pointed out. “Think Scarlett. Is there some way your boss will hear me out?”
“That’s the purpose of your trial. To hear your motivation behind your actions, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up, Claiborne. Rarely does the Council of Noble Purposes committee change their minds once a person is on the list.”
“But I wasn’t on the list.”
“You are now.” She shook her head, sending angel dust falling only to disappear like melting snowflakes
. “And not only did you alter Heaven’s plans, but you also drug me into your mess. Now I’m in a buttload of trouble.”
Shame and remorse washed over me for my rash actions. “Geez, Scarlett, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let Mama die. She’s the glue that holds us together. If I hadn’t acted, Mama would be the one down there, or worse, dead.”
“She’s supposed to be, Jolene. That was Heaven’s plan, but I warned you and now what’s done is done, and the past can’t be undone. Let’s peek in on the doctor’s conference with your family.”
“Can I do that?” I lifted the silver thread and pointed downward. “I mean, I’m connected to, uh, you know.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, you can do that. Come on, let’s eavesdrop.”
“Wait, I need to change.” I followed her to the glass door separating my room from the nurses’ desk. “This hospital gown doesn’t have a back, and my backside is exposed. It’s cold, and I’m barefoot, and you know how I hate bare feet.”
“Nothing to be done about it. You’re in limbo.”
“You mean I'm stuck with this getup?”
“Yep, just as I’m stuck with you.”
With the back of my gown clutched in one hand, I followed Scarlett out of the ICU double doors and into the waiting room where my family, still in their wedding finery, sat bunched together in the corner of the room in chairs and on a small sofa. Deena looked ready to collapse into Ryder’s arms, and Billie Jo’s makeup-streaked face reflected her distraught state. I floated over to her and placed a hand on her stomach and whispered a heartfelt plea for her to go home and rest. For the baby, I added. She, of course, didn’t react to my presence. However, Deena did. The moment I wafted through the door behind Scarlett, her huge brown eyes grew round as saucers and surveyed the room with interest. Her reaction confirmed my suspicions: Deena was a sensitive—a psychic in training.
She was my closest link to the living. If I could somehow communicate with her, I could get a comforting message through to my family assuring them I was fine on the Other Side and not to worry. Excited at the prospect, I zipped back to Scarlett who was circling the young, handsome doctor entering the room.