The Beckoning of Beautiful Things (The Beckoning Series) Read online

  The tiny birds batted against her insides, seeking escape. Her body ignited with excitement. “Um, bring them in and put them on the counter. I’m going to need a crane to get them into my car.”

  “Yeah, he was insistent that you get these here. He sent another bunch to your home.”

  A warm flush spread through Marissa’s cheeks. “Well, I’m not there. What do you do with them when the person isn’t there?”

  “Oh, if the porch is safe enough, we leave them there. Otherwise, we come back later. Don’t worry. Now, can I put these down? They’re heavy.”

  Marissa held the door open for the guy. He placed them on the front counter, nodded, and zipped away.

  Crazy Betty and the customer looked up from their Tarot reading and gaped. “Lord, lord, lord, child, did I tell it right or what?” The elderly woman heaved her body up from her seat at the counter. “What does the card say? Give an old woman a thrill.” The movement stirred her lungs into violent protest. She pressed her stiff white handkerchief to her mouth until the coughs subsided. “Buddy, Buddy, Buddy, the pathway is clear.” Her eyes rolled up in her head and then settled back into position like cherries in a slot machine. “And the angels are ready. You’ll be fine.”

  “You might want to get that cough checked out, Betty. Just in case it means that you’re sick.”

  Crazy Betty waved a hand in her direction. “The card, child. Read the card.”

  Marissa plucked the card from the little plastic holder, slid her finger under the flap, and extracted the beautiful contents. The fiber-specked paper appeared handmade. The cover read, “A birthday is a wondrous day. Yours is especially wondrous. It’s the day we met.” She swallowed as she read this and then opened the flap. A thick, folded piece of lightweight, handmade paper fell from the card. Marissa caught it between her fingertips before it floated to the floor. “I want to read this one in private, if you don’t mind,” she said to the two women before her.

  “Can you read us the big card? When I was a young gal, Mr. Sondheim – he was my first husband – he would leave me notes in my mailbox. It was so romantic. Did I ever tell you about the first note ne ever sent me?”

  “Yes, I believe you did.” Six times, so far. Marissa stared at the elegant script before her. It says, “Mi corazón, we have met at last.” Her face reddened. “That’s it.”

  “That’s it?” Crazy Betty said, fanning her face with her hand. “Child, you’re going to give me the vapors. He’s telling you that this is destiny. You two were meant to meet right now.”

  “Maybe,” Marissa began.

  The door to the back swished open, and Cara stuck her head out. She shot a laser beam glare at Marissa, tapped her watch, and disappeared.

  “I’ve got to go next door and get a sandwich before I faint.”

  “I’ve got me some leftover pork chops you can have.”

  “Thanks, Betty, but pork chops aren’t my thing.”

  “You kids these days and your diets. When I was your age, I ate nothing but meat and potatoes. It kept me from getting the vapors on the farm. I didn’t make it this far because I ate like a rabbit, I can assure you of that.”

  “I just don’t like pork. But thanks.”

  Marissa hustled next door to buy lunch, zipped back to her office, and chewed on the sandwich at her desk. The card and insert were kept tucked inside her purse until she could spare a moment. The beautiful flowers sat next to her monitor while she worked. An exquisite array of colors and blooms, she imagined him choosing each stem. The thought made her smile. From time to time, she’d ascend from her swamp of tasks, ponder the flowers, grin, and resume working. She had to get this stuff out the virtual door by end of day.

  At three, Cara stuck her head around the cubicle. “I’ve got a meeting until four, then another meeting at 4:15, then a dinner meeting with a client. I trust you to get this to me today whether I’m here or not. I’ll check my email before I go to bed. Any changes will have to be done first thing tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, she whirled away.

  “Whew,” Marissa said. When she heard the door to Cara’s office shut, she withdrew the card. Her fingertips moved slowly on the rough paper. “Handmade paper is so cool,” she said. Savoring the moment, she opened the card and unfolded the three page insert. Her eyes soaked in the elegant script. “How do people write like that?” She fingered the words flowing down the first page. Then she read.

  The Beckoning of Beautiful Things

  What person does not a beauty love?

  Mine eyes except me not.

  When beauty called I sought to please,

  Until my heart was shot.

  Of bronze and gold my yard explodes,

  The images of love gone past.

  But now my heart rejoices once more,

  For love returns at last.

  Marissa puzzled over the poem which hinted at heartbreak and hope. The tiny birds within swirled in a typhoon of sensation. Want. She swallowed and closed her eyes for a second. Taking a deep breath, she read further down the page. A list of flowers and their meaning followed.

  Alyssum (Lobularia maritima) – Worth beyond beauty (you)

  Baby’s Breath (Gypsophila paniculata) – Everlasting love (is it possible? I want to find out.)

  Bird of paradise (Strelitzia reginae) – Magnificence (you)

  Cherry blossom (Prunus cerasus) – Impermanence (everything)

  Everlasting pea (Lathyrus latifolius) – Lasting pleasure (is it possible? I want to explore.)

  Dogwood (Cornus) – Love undiminished by adversity (yes)

  Gladiolus (Gladiolus) – You pierce my heart (yes)

  Jasmine, Carolina (Gelsemium sempervirens) – Separation (Something I must do from my past)

  Jasmine, Indian (Jasminum multiflorum) – Attachment (Something I must guard against)

  Rose, purple (Rosa) – Enchantment (you)

  Stock (Malcolmia maritima) – You will always be beautiful to me (yes)

  Tuberose (Polianthes tuberosa) – Dangerous pleasures

  The last two words stilled the fluttering aviary inside, strangling them into quiet. Dangerous pleasures. Why didn’t he add anything to those words? Had he simply forgotten? And what were dangerous pleasures? Weren’t all pleasures worthwhile? That’s what Jason kept hammering into her head. She recalled a recent conversation.

  “Baby-doll, the ancient scriptures tell us to seek enlightenment through pleasure.”

  “What if I don’t want to be enlightened?”

  “Who doesn’t want to be enlightened?”

  “Oh, I’d say most of the planet. Have you looked around lately?”

  He’d scoffed at that part. “So that’s where we come in, baby-doll. We seek, we practice, we master, we share.”

  “I’m not training to become a teacher of Tantra, Jason. That’s your thing.”

  “But you’re so good at this. You’re a natural when you let go. You just need to let go more often.”

  And then they’d argued, her telling him it was not his job to be her instructor, and him telling her that it was his life mission to teach and instruct all around him. She shook her head at the memory.

  She carefully placed the top two sheets of paper on her desk and read the third.

  “There are five distinct gemstones in the bottom of the vase. Each stone has a unique meaning. Each stone will evoke a different ability in you. It’s up to you to discern the meaning.”

  Abilities? Abilities? Like being able to see faces in the water? Faces that chill and frighten? She eyed the stones holding the flowers in place. There were about five inches of clear, round, glass marbles at the bottom. Sure enough, she spied a few different colored, shiny stones interspersed throughout. She couldn’t really discern them through the water and stems. How will I solve this puzzle?

  She wandered into the break room, careful to not go past Cara’s office, and retrieved the newspapers from the trash. The head of the graphics department, an old coot who preferred
to read the newspaper rather than read the news online, faithfully subscribed to several.

  She snuck back to her cubicle and began plucking the flowers out one by one. I’ll never get it to look this good, but… When the flowers were arranged in neat rows on newspaper on the floor of the cubicle, she pushed up her sleeves and dug for the colored stones. The stones had been polished to glistening. It was easy to find one faceted clear red gem, one dark blood-hued gem, one golden orb, and a beautiful blue and gold flecked beauty she knew was lapus lazuli. Where was the fifth stone?

  She swished her hand around in the water, finding nothing distinct. Had he forgotten one? Had the florist removed it? She began taking out handfuls of the clear orbs and laying them on the newspaper. When she had taken out everything, she examined the sparkling marbles. “They all look the same to me,” she muttered. She squinted, eyeing each one. That one…right there…that one looks different. That one that had tiny spider web veins running through it. She picked it up between her index finger and thumb.

  Mi corazón.

  The words spun through her brain, making her drop the crystal sphere. The gemstone rolled across the floor. She lunged for it before it whirled out of her cubicle.

  “You alright in there? What are you doing?” a co-worker called.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. I just spread my research out on the floor. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay,” he said dubiously.

  When her hand made contact with the crystalline sphere, the voice whispered through her head.

  Mi corazón.

  “Who’s there?” she whispered.

  Can you hear me, Marissa?

  “Daniel? Where are you?” she hissed. Laughter filled her head. “Where are you? What’s going on?”

  I’m in your head. You’ve found the Herkimer diamond. Good.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Are you talking to me?” her co-worker called out. “You’re going to have to speak up if you are.”

  “No. You know me, always talking to myself. I’ll be quiet.” Again the laughter whirled through her mind like a warm breeze.

  Just think your answers. We’re communicating mind to mind.

  Marissa frowned. How is that possible?

  It’s the stone. Since I ground it, it’s attuned to me. Since you possess the mind of the Light Rebel, we can communicate this way.

  She stared at the tiny sphere and dropped it in her desk drawer. Sure enough, her head got quiet. She picked it up once more.

  Believe me?

  This is creepy.

  You probably do it all the time and don’t realize it. This is just a clear way to communicate with me. It’s like having me on super speed dial.

  Um, okay. It seems odd.

  Only because you’re not sure of yourself yet.

  Silence. Marissa didn’t know what to, er, say to that statement, not that she was saying anything. She was only thinking. She shook her head and hissed to herself. You’re making this up, Marissa. Active imagination!

  This is real, the voice in her head continued.

  It sure sounded distinct from hers. She thrummed her fingers on her desk.

  I realized we didn’t even exchange phone numbers. We’ve been backing up into our relationship. That’s the way of our kind.

  Our kind? Humans? Marissa rolled her eyes.

  Magi. Lux custodes. If we back into something, we don’t have to see it coming. We can pretend to be surprised.

  She could picture him smiling as he thought that. We don’t even have a relationship.

  Yes, mi corazón, we do. It’s begun. What’s your phone number?

  I’m not supposed to use it…the phone, I mean…at work. A lengthy silence followed. I don’t really know you. How do I know you’re not a serial killer? Marissa squirmed. How do I know I can trust you? Silence. Okay, it’s 555-9225. Another silence ensued. “Great,” she muttered. “I’ve just given my phone number to a serial killer who likes to back into things.” The connection seemed to have dropped as she continued to hear nothing. She looked at her phone, lying on her desk. Just because she wasn’t supposed to talk, didn’t mean she never text messaged. Nothing happened. She picked it up. Nothing. She tapped it with the diamond. Nothing. Thinking herself an imaginative fool, she dropped the Herkimer diamond and phone onto her desk and regarded the disarray on the floor. Stooping down to the floor, she grabbed a gladiolus and stuck it in the vase. The cherry blossom was next, followed by the jasmine. “How do they get these things to look so good?”

  “They don’t talk out loud and disturb their co-workers, that’s how.”

  “Sorry,” she called to the disgruntled male’s cubicle. Her cell phone ring jarred her cubicle and she yelped.

  “Can it, Engles!”

  “I said, I’m sorry,” she shot back, lunging for her phone. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Engles?”

  The voice ricocheted through her body like a pinball, lighting up her insides.

  “Believe me now?” His voice smiled through the phone.

  “Believe that I have an active imagination? Absolutely.”

  “How do you think I got your phone number?”

  “The phone company, Google, there are lots of ways.”

  “Yours seems to be unlisted.”

  Marissa blushed. “You tried to find it?”

  “What do you think? That I’m a patient man? I’ve been patiently waiting for you to show up and now you’re here. I didn’t want to leave things to chance.”

  The birds in her pelvis began to circle, like they were gathering speed, ready to burst through the pelvis floor. Want, want, want, want, want.

  “Still there?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I was, er, I was tongue-tied.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Engles!” called the cranky co-worker. “I’m trying to concentrate. Some of us have to actually work when we’re here.”

  “Wait,” she whispered into the phone. “I’ve got to step outside.” She hustled out of cube-land and zipped past Crazy Betty’s seat at the front counter. Pointing to her phone, she said, “It’s an emergency.”

  Crazy Betty looked over the top of her reading glasses. “Love is always an emergency, child.”

  Once outside, she held the phone to her ear. “Still there?”

  “When can I see you again?”

  “I, um, I don’t know. The last thing you said to me was that you’d be waiting for me. You know I was a bit upset when I left.”

  “I know. I waited as long as I could. And I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”

  “Well, you did. Thank you. The flowers are beautiful.”

  “And the stones? How did you find them?”

  “By digging through the water. My cubicle is a mess. The Herkimer diamond was a real hit.”

  “Sarcasm?”

  “Sorry. It’s a bad habit. The diamond took me by surprise.”

  “The diamond itself or the abilities they stirred?”

  “Both.”

  “Have you discerned the rest?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to find out. I’m swamped today.”

  “So when can I see you?”

  Casting aside her usual caution, she blurted, “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow would be wonderful. I’ll take you on a proper date. We’ll talk of proper date-like things.”

  “Such as?”

  “You tell me. I’m not really good at dating.”

  She thought a minute. “We can talk of movies.”

  “Ah ha, movies.”

  “Are you taking notes?”

  “No. Let me get the notepad I used last night.”

  “The invisible one?” A silly smile curved on her face.

  “Precisely. Okay, ready.”

  “Where you like to eat is a good topic. And any activities you might have. You can also talk about pets, your parents, where you grew up, and where you went to high school. Favorite books. Your favorite television shows.”
/>   “Ah. The mundane in all its glory. And you will speak of this as well?”

  “Actually…” She twisted a lock of hair around and around her finger. “I find those topics boring. I’m afraid we’ll have to wing it.”

  “Free flight,” he purred into her ear.

  The sound of his voice stirred the whirling birds inside into frenzy. In fact, Marissa was sure that the birds were now zipping above a herd of thundering horses, their hooves clattering on her pelvis floor, their exalted whinnies piercing her heart. Or maybe they were all fleeing from the forest fire of passion that was building inside. She fanned her cheeks with her free hand. “Yes, free flight.”

  “Then I shall see you tomorrow at, say, six?”

  “Yes, I’ll be waiting.”

  “Goodbye, Ms. Engles.”

  Marissa thought she was going to faint from all the flutters and stampede of sensation inside. “Goodbye…Daniel.”

  Excited about her date and intrigued by her new gemstones, her mind whirled. Jewels, she mused. I’ve got a mystery of jewels to solve. The name of someone in her past flickered in her head. Diego Perona! She Googled the name of his jewelry store and tapped the number.

  “Diego Perona,” he answered.

  “Mr. Perona. It’s Marissa Engles.”

  “Marissa! What a pleasure. To what do I owe the honor?”

  “Well, first…how are you? I haven’t seen you since Mom and Dad died.”

  “Oh, still here. I still have many clients. None as beautiful and talented as your mother, however. Your mother was the finest gem of them all.”

  A stab of pain pierced Marissa’s heart. “She was that.”

  “And you, mija. How are you?”

  “I’m well, thanks.” She looked up to see her boss glaring at her from inside the office. “I’m sorry, but my boss needs me. I’ve got to be brief. I have a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “I obtained some gemstones, and I need help figuring out what they are and what they mean. Would you be able to help? Or at least point me in the right direction?”