Haunted Honeymoon (23 page)

“So why did we break up?”

“We took missteps and every time we tried to fix them, others interfered.” He ran his fingers up my sleeve and along my arm, making me want to lean into his touch. “Both of us made mistakes, but if we had just gone ahead and gotten married, this never would have happened to you.”

“And how was it when we made love?”

“Amazing,” he said. “I remember the last time. We were in the City and we’d registered for wedding gifts. Then I’d done some consults. I came back to our hotel suite and you were wearing a white plastic miniskirt,” he said, and smiled.

I smiled, too. “That sounds very glamorous.”

“We were going to go out, but we stayed in and spent the night making love. If I had known it would be the last time …,” he said. “Oh, Milagro, I’ve missed you so much.”

He was serious and sincere, an irresistible combination in a fabulous man, so I didn’t even try to resist. I put my arms around him and his lips went to mine. Delicious sensations rippled through my body, and I thought of the magical kiss that awakens a sleeping princess and the magical kiss that transforms a frog.

Oswald pushed me through the doorway into the room and kicked the door shut behind us.

Each taste of his tongue sent all sorts of happy signals along my synapses. Maybe my memory could be recovered by a different magical act. I pressed myself against him, wrapping my leg around his, and then someone rapped on the door.

Oswald took his mouth from mine.

“In a minute,” he called out. To me, he whispered, “You always do this to me.” He went to face the window, blowing out his breath and adjusting himself in his jeans.

Through the door, Lily said, “Please don’t do anything detrimental to the healing process.”

Oswald said, “We’ll be out in a minute.”

After a few seconds, we heard her walk away.

He said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that when you’re not well.”

“I liked it, Oswald. I like you.”

“When you get your memory back, you may not feel the same way about me.”

I thought of the scarf I had found in my bag and I thought of how I’d come here when I was in trouble. “Can’t we start over? If we loved each other once … unless you’re involved with someone else.”

He gazed out the window for a long time and said, “There’s been no one else for me since you left.”

“So maybe …”

“Maybe. Let’s go back out.” He came to me and stroked his finger along my throat. “I think you came back to me for a reason.”

“I think so, too.”

When we returned to the terrace, everyone acted as if nothing had happened, but Oswald sat by my side and I kept glancing at him.

I had amnesia, but I also had a second chance with exactly the sort of man I’d always wanted—someone worthwhile, a human version of a substantial, hardback book, instead of the guys I usually dated, paperback beach reads that could be left on the bus for the next bored and aimless girl.

thirteen
Once Bitten, Twice Snide

After dinner, AG and Mrs. Grant went to watch a movie in her cottage, and Oswald and Gabriel went to the study to talk.

Lily said to me, “I’ve got to make phone calls. Will you be all right on your own?”

“I’m fine. I can work on my project.”

“The memoir?”

“From what I can tell from my notes, it’s entirely fabricated. I’m thinking that it’s more of a fakeoir, or maybe a fabrimento. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After I’d zipped out a chapter, I felt the need to stretch my muscles. I changed into sneakers and a T-shirt and went outside.

I looked up, astonished at the canopy of bright stars. I’d never seen so many in my life. I began moving slowly, testing myself, but after I’d reached the edge of the field, I broke into a jog, and soon I began to run.

I avoided the area where Mrs. Grant had pointed out a pond and circled the property. With my improved vision, I saw a luminescent
outline on small critters and insects. A coyote yipped in the distance.

The air was crisp and fresh in my lungs, and I felt so strong that I went around two more times.

As I faced the house, I saw the lights on upstairs, and a light glowed from the downstairs study. I walked quietly and stood to one side of the window where I could peer in.

Oswald and Gabriel listened as a man’s voice came over the speakerphone. The man said, “Wilcox’s parents are demanding an immediate Council investigation and you know what that means.”

Gabriel said, “Sam, she doesn’t remember anything, and we
know
Milagro. She didn’t kill Wilcox, or anyone.”

The caller said, “Don’t you wonder, Gabe? She’s definitely capable of violence, and she’s not always in control of her emotions.”

Oswald said, “She’s not the only one capable of violence.”

I was so preoccupied with these aspersions on my character that I didn’t notice the fuzzy young possum ambling toward me until it was on my foot.

“Shoo!” I hissed, trying to get it to move away. “Go!”

Oswald said, “Sam, you didn’t see her when she came here. She looked worse than when she was fighting the first infection, and that almost killed her. Do everything you can to buy time so she has a chance to recover.”

The possum snuffled at my ankle, and I caught only a few words of what Gabriel said, something about “as a Council director, he has the responsibility and right to interview her no matter what you think of him.”

I waved my hands in front of the stupid possum’s face and it fell over and feigned death on my other foot. By the time I’d edged my shoe out from under the creature, Oswald was saying
angrily, “Fine, but the only way I’ll have him here is if he agrees to my conditions. It’s still my house and she’s still … what
is
that smell? Skunk?”

I ducked into the bushes as Oswald came to the window, shut it, and closed the drapes.

The next day, Monday, I got up early and found Oswald in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee. He was dressed in a dark blue suit and a pale blue shirt, and his hair was brushed back.

No one was around so I went to his and leaned against him. After a moment he kissed me softly, his mouth tasting of toothpaste.

“Mmm, minty. What does the rest of you taste like?”

He laughed and pushed me away. “Not now, Mil. I’ve got to go to work.”

I took his coffee cup and took a sip. “So you’re a plastic surgeon. Why did you decide to do that?”

“You always had a problem with my career because of your mother’s plastic surgery. I always had a problem with your lack of a career.”

“I’m a writer
and
a gardener. That’s
two
careers. Back to my question.”

“Okay, I’m fascinated by the structure of the human body. Muscles, tissue, skin, bone, blood vessels. I’m not going to go into this when you could get your memory back and recall all of our previous discussions.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “Maybe later tonight we can have an in-depth talk.” I smiled and tipped my head to make my ponytail swing.

“Morning!”

I turned to see Lily. She looked younger and sexier in a pair of jeans and a stretchy teal T-shirt.

I handed back Oswald’s coffee cup and we both said good morning to her. “Lily, if you’re all part of an extended non-Mafia family, how come you haven’t met Oswald before?”

They looked at each other quizzically. She said, “Good question. I was signed up on the dating registry, but they matched me with one of the Van Burens. I went out with him for six months and decided I’d rather die a spinster, so I pulled my name off.”

I tried to puzzle this through. “Your family has a dating service? I think I’m a little squicked out.”

“It’s the equivalent of dating someone from a neighboring town,” Lily said, “but we can meet people who share our condition and values.”

Oswald smiled. “Actually, Lily, I think we met at one of the Council’s career retreats when we were in sixth grade. I remember a very intense, pretty, curly-haired girl who spent a lot of time disputing Freudian theory.”

She laughed and said, “That was me! Who were you?”

“I was the skinny little kid trying to impress you by talking about the endocrine system. You told me that you thought I had narcissistic personality disorder.”

“You were that pest! I noticed you at that big millennium party in Quebec.”

Oswald’s nice brows knit together as he stared at Lily. “I would have remembered you.”

She shrugged. “I’d cut off all my hair because I wanted to be taken seriously. You were running with the fast crowd, that fashionista Cornelia … um, a different crowd.”

“I’ve settled down since then.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Lily said.

After Oswald left to go to his office, and Gabriel joined us for coffee.

When Lily wasn’t looking, he flipped my ponytail, then said,
“Lily, we’re trying to stall the Council before they question Milagro … or take further action, but they’re under pressure from Wilcox’s family. I don’t know how many days we have.”

“What? You can’t put a deadline on a recovery.” Lily’s forehead furrowing in irritation. “I’ve got a week of vacation left, and I planned to help transition Milagro to another therapist.”

“Maybe we could just figure it all out ourselves,” I said. “I can help. I can go undercover in a blond wig.”

“No,” Gabriel and Lily said together.

So after breakfast, I had another session with Lily. She wanted to talk about my grandmother, and I found myself happily reminiscing about my small
abuelita
and her affectionate embraces, her sweet smile.

“I still miss her, and I wonder what she’d think of the person I am now,” I said. “She wanted me to be happy.”

“What do you think would make you happy, Milagro?”

“Not
what
, but
who
. I saw a photo of Oswald and me and we were happy.”

Lily scribbled on her notepad, then said, “You can’t look to others for emotional fulfillment, Milagro.”

“Lily, if others can make you unhappy, it seems to reason that the opposite should also be true.”

After lunch, when I suggested having our session outside again, Lily agreed, but once we were working, she asked me to talk about my father.

“There’s not much to tell. He started with one pickup and some old tools and built up a good landscaping business doing corporate campuses,” I said. “His name is Ray and his slogan, ‘Let Ray D-light you with a perfect new lawn,’ was on all the trucks.”

“Would he be proud of this garden?”

“Oh, no. He likes manicured lawns and uniform borders of
shrubs. He always made sure that he imposed order and symmetry on nature.”

“Why did your mother marry your father?”

“He’s handsome and a hard worker,” I said. “He devoted himself to providing for her.”

“So he’s a hardworking man who likes order and strict aesthetic standards, and lives with a dominant female,” Lily said. “Are you making any connections?”

“You’re the professional. You tell me.”

“Milagro, you’re supposed to work toward your own mental health.”

“If I go to a mechanic, he doesn’t charge me by the hour and make me guess what’s wrong with my car. He just fixes it.”

She glared at me for a moment. “We return to patterns that are familiar, our comfort zones.”

“This is the very opposite of my life with my family, so your theory is completely loony.” Her mouth set in a line, so I changed the subject. “Let me show you how to fan out rose canes to encourage bloom.”

I took off my cotton gloves to grip the branches as I demonstrated, and a large thorn caught on the back of my hand. It ripped my skin, and the jagged cut welled with glossy ruby blood.

“I’m so careless,” I said, and licked away the blood, revealing skin that suddenly mended over. It was as smooth as if it had never been damaged. “Holy cow.” I held out my hand for Lily to see.

She stared in amazement. “I heard you healed fast, but I’ve never seen anyone heal
that
fast.”

“It’s because I’m a superhero, right?”

“No.”

*   *   *

After Oswald returned we had cocktails on the terrace. AG and Mrs. Grant seemed much cozier than they had when I’d first met them. She handed him the first limoncello martini and he raised it to her before taking a taste and looking out to the horizon.

“Perfect,” he said. “Is this what I’ve been missing all these years?”

“It was your decision,” she said.

He smiled a crooked smile like Oswald’s. “Grant men are helplessly drawn to impossible women.”

Gabriel said, “That’s why I didn’t even bother with women. Although if I did, the Young Lady would be at the top of my list.”

“Thanks, Gabriel. If I was a gay guy, you’d be at the top of my list, too.”

Mr. Grant looked at his ex-wife and said, “Sometimes the world is too modern for me.”

“AG, you were old-fashioned when you were twenty,” she said. “I think your body finally caught up with your mental age.”

“You always called me a fuddy-duddy.”

“Did I?”

“I could tell some stories …,” he began, and Mrs. Grant glanced in my direction and said, “This is not the time.”

The conversation turned to other topics, and I shared my weird experience about healing from the cut. “The question is, how can I use my super powers for good?”

Edna started laughing and Oswald said, “You don’t actually have any powers,” and Lily said, “That shouldn’t be a concern right now,” all of which I found very discouraging.

After dinner, Oswald asked if anyone wanted to go for a swim. I wanted to be with him, but I panicked just thinking about the pool. Why did the pool’s clear water hold such darkness for me?

“I’m going to write tonight. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’d love a swim,” Lily said.

I went to the maid’s room and wrote feverishly, filling up page after page, until my fingers cramped. I put the pen down and it rolled off the desk. When I bent down to retrieve it, I saw my initials scratched into the underside of the desk. Beside them was daisy, rip.

The ooky factor rose in me again, so I decided to run off my tension. When I went into the night, I made a game of seeing how fast I could dart around rocks. “I’m a superhero!” I said to myself as I leaped over a boulder.