"Yes? Is there a problem?"
"Do you know a Brigit Malone?" he asked in reply to her question.
"Yes. Is she in trouble?" Maggie asked quickly. The sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach returned with such a force that caused her head to start spinning.
"I'm afraid we have some bad news..." was all Mama Dee heard over the phone before the screaming started.
Maggie hit her knees in the agony that ripped through her gut. Her worst fear had broken free.
3: Stalked
Brigit had tried to stop Maggie from going to the door when the policemen had returned to deliver the news of 'the accident'. As soon as she had walked through the door, Brigit had jumped to her feet and began the useless rant about what had happened to cause her delay. It was only when Maggie had called Mama Dee that Brigit grasped the fact that Maggie could not see or hear her.
As the realization sank in, Brigit had gone to the window and looked out. She could see him John Blackwick standing on the sidewalk across the street. He was leaning against the wall of the building with his hands in his trouser pockets. Even from the second floor through the heavy darkness, Brigit could feel his ice blue eyes boring into her. Anger began to well up from her gut as she returned his stare. It was only when she saw the police car pull up to the curb in front of her building that she broke her gaze and her attention snapped back to Maggie.
Mama Dee had arrived as quickly as she could. Brigit had watched helplessly as one of the policemen noticed the cell phone in Maggie's fist. Gently, he took it from her and handed it to his partner as he tried to coax Maggie from where she had crumpled to the floor to the sofa. His partner, noticing that there was a call still active, quickly began instructing the person on the other end to please come at once. When the call was ended, Brigit watched him place the phone on the table where they normally tossed their keys and a.s.sist his partner in helping the hysterical woman from the floor over to the sofa. It was only when Mama Dee arrived that the policemen took their leave after giving her some final instructions regarding identifying Brigit's body.
Brigit never felt so helpless in her life as she watched her partner falling apart and their dearest friend trying to comfort her while grieving as well. Finally, Brigit turned away again and returned to the window. The sobbing of the two women who had loved her most pierced her brain. The sound branded itself in her ears as she looked out at the darkness that had completely shrouded the street below.
He was still there. He had moved from leaning against the wall to leaning against the post of the street light that blazed brightly against the darkness of the night. Their gazes locked again and Brigit wondered momentarily why he was stalking her. As they stared each other down, she searched her memory thoroughly for any hint of a John Blackwick in it.
After what seemed like hours, she finally came to the conclusion that they had never crossed paths before. By the time she found this conclusion, Maggie had fallen asleep and Mama Dee could be heard shuffling around in the kitchen. An occasional sniffle indicated her tears were still falling as she washed that morning's breakfast dishes the girls had left in the sink.
Brigit finally ceded her position at the window and stood over Maggie as she slept on the sofa. Mama Dee had covered her with the plaid throw they kept over the back of the sofa. They had spent many a cool evening snuggled beneath it as they watched T.V. It wasn't a heavy blanket, but it was warm enough to create a sense of coziness when shared with the one she loved.
Brigit reached out to smooth back a curl from Maggie's brow. She was startled to find that it would not move. Her fingers pa.s.sed through it, sending a shiver down Maggie's features. Brigit felt her lip begin to quiver as she raised her hand to look at it again. She still appeared solid. She had felt the warmth of Maggie's skin as she had brushed her forehead. Yet, it confused her that she was unable to feel anything else. As she turned away from her sleeping partner, she could feel her heart beginning to ache with the thought she would never again be able to touch Maggie with the familiarity that she had known before this evening's event.
The funeral was on a Wednesday. Despite the crisp chill that was in the air, the sun was shining and the sky was clear. It seemed such a contrast to the feeling that seemed to prevail in the energy surrounding the services and the subsequent funeral procession through the cemetery to the site where Brigit's body was to be interred.
Brigit stood beside Maggie, unable to cease her irritated stare at the row of faces on the other side of the dark brown casket that held her body. Maggie should have been the one sitting there not the one standing through her grief; but then, if Maggie had remained in charge, none of this scene would have been happening in the first place, Brigit mused. The party would have already started.
She had come to accept the fact that she was indeed dead during the course of the last week, but none of this was part of her final wishes. She had-had the conversation a few times with Maggie regarding the disposal of her remains should anything happen. They had made the agreement to cremation. Their final instructions were to combine their ashes and then throw them from the highest peak their friends could find. Even in death, they had mapped out the intent to always be together. Brigit stared hard at the casket containing her body and frowned. The map had been shredded, torn from Maggie's hands before she could even realize it. Brigit had suspected it would happen as soon as Maggie had made the phone call to the woman she had never met.
Her eyes rested on the woman sitting directly in the middle of the family row. She wondered why her mother had bothered to show. She wondered how, after so many years, Liana Evans could suddenly have a care about any part of Brigit's life or death.
Actually, she didn't wonder. She knew.
Liana was hoping to snag the spotlight. She would be the grieving mother who had lost her only child in a bizarre accident. She would rue her actions as a h.o.m.ophobic mother that had shunned her daughter for being an embarra.s.sment. She would lament her grief at never knowing how happy her daughter had been, how strong she had been to make a choice that went against all the rules of her conservative upbringing just to be happy with someone who had filled her heart with so much love. Liana Evans, though, would never admit that Brigit had truly been happy though. She would eventually find some way to belittle the life Brigit had shared with Maggie.
Brigit imagined Liana at the dinner after the funeral. What she imagined made her smile. Her friends their friends would easily see through Liana. They had all lived through their own hardships with the lives they had been born into, with the paths they had walked to find their own peace and happiness with their place in the world. Brigit smiled because she knew that, standing behind her, were some bigger drama queens than Liana Evans could ever imagine being.
Brigit eyed her mother with amus.e.m.e.nt. Liana was dressed well, meaning to draw attention to herself; but the drama queens in the crowd behind her were in drag. Their glitz and glamour having gone all out to show their celebration and admiration for their friend lost too early. The sequins and feather boas, the lipstick and beehive wigs, the broad rimmed ladies' hats brought more attention and festivity to the service than Brigit could have hoped for. Today, they had Liana beat hands down.
Brigit turned to her right and smiled faintly as Mama Dee brought a handkerchief to her eye. She watched the older woman dab away the tear and sniff lightly as the preacher droned on the final words of the burial rite. Behind her, she could hear the quiet sniffles of the people who had been her and Maggie's friends. In Brigit's opinion, they should all be standing on the family side not the people who were sitting there.
A movement in the trees behind the family row caught Brigit's attention and she stiffened. He was there, looking the same as he had every day since their meeting in the alley leading to The Black Cat Club. His hands were shoved in his trousers and he had that infuriatingly patient look on his face as he locked eyes with her. Brigit suddenly felt her anger spark as the final words from the preacher reached through to her brain: ashes to ashes, dust to dust ashes to ashes, dust to dust...
Quickly, Brigit left the group surrounding the grave and strode across the lawn toward John Blackwick. She could feel her anger sparking in an effort to ignite as she approached him. He made no effort to move despite the obvious look of intent on her face. Instead, a gentle smile came to his face as he waited for her to confront him.
"What the h.e.l.l do you want?" Brigit demanded when she was within earshot of him.
"A conversation, Brigit Malone, that's all," he replied.
Brigit stopped three feet from him, her hands clenched into fists at her side. She wanted so badly to strike out at him physically. She had the feeling, however, that it would not wipe the smile from his face.
"You've been stalking me all week. What could we possibly have to talk about?"
"I have a proposition for you." John Blackwick revealed.
"Regarding what?" Brigit demanded. Her voice was shaking. Her anger was rising. She hated being pushed to the point where her anger would take control of her. It had always been such a draining emotion and Brigit had often been able to avoid it easily. Today, at the sight of John Blackwick, her anger suddenly seemed too near the surface and she didn't care.
"I have a job offer."
"A job offer? I'm dead, Mr. Blackwick, as you so eloquently pointed out last week. What kind of job can a ghost do?" He wasn't making any sense to her and it seemed to only urge her anger to rise all the quicker.
"There is a point, Brigit, where phantoms have the potential to become something more. You possess skills that I am most interested in and it is obvious to me that you have no intention of letting go of the life you had. I have a way to maintain some level of connection to it, if that is your true intention. It's a choice you have to make, darling."
"You're not making any sense," Brigit snapped at him. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about an opportunity to remain. Are you interested?"
Brigit glared hard at him. The urge to raise her fist and punch him square in the nose was still riding through her mind even though a tiny spark of interest was beginning to form behind the urge. She kept her silence as he reached inside his breast pocket and withdrew a small business card before extending it out to her.
"If you think about it, meet me at the Bleecker Street Cafe tomorrow and I'll explain your options. Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to carry out my a.s.signment in regard to you, Brigit Malone." There was a suddenly a serious tone to his words and Brigit felt a small shiver run down her spine. Something about the seemingly serene man before her suddenly felt very menacing.
"Is that a threat?" She asked, her own tone matching the seriousness of his.
"No, love, it's a promise."
Brigit snapped the card quickly from John Blackwick's extended hand and spun on her heel, turning her back on him. As she strode away, she heard his voice in her head.
"Enjoy the celebration of your memory, Brigit. Soon, their lives will move on and you will still be here. Make your choice wisely, love..."
4: Someone to Watch Over
Brigit had gone home along with the crowd that had attended her funeral. Once there, the food was brought out and the wine began to flow. Her friends had spared no expense in honoring her memory. They had hired caterers and ordered Brigit's favorite wine by the case. Gla.s.s upon gla.s.s was filled as stories were told about their various experiences with Brigit Malone and Maggie Devon. Accolades were posthumously lain out for all to see and agree and exalt as the autumn sun pa.s.sed quickly through the sky and began to descend to his resting place on the other side of the world. Brigit watched the face of each person as they spoke, sometimes through tears, sometimes through laughter and she found herself tapping into the emotions swirling inside them. With the amount of bodies crowded into the main room of their apartment, feeling the energy was easy for Brigit. They had never entertained such a large gathering before.
The only person unable to speak was Brigit's mother, Liana. What could she say after so much adoration for her daughter the woman she had never allowed herself to know had been displayed?
When the crowd began to disperse, she was touched by each friend's offer to be there for Maggie as they bid good-byes. Brigit watched her partner as she accepted the offers with a forced smile, a nod and a hug. Even in her grief, Maggie was still beautiful to her. They had been together ten years minus one day. Brigit had hoped it would have been a full life spent with Maggie. She had hoped they would have been old and grey before they no longer looked at each other every day.
Brigit had watched her every night since the accident. She had stood over her lover watching her sleep, noting when she dreamed, noting when she grieved. In her sleep, Maggie had cried and then, at other times, she had smiled. Brigit felt herself mirroring her lover's emotions, wishing she could reach out and wipe away the tears or caress the smile that had spread across her lips. She refrained, however, knowing that if she reached out, she would not feel anything but Maggie's warm energy under her fingertips. That thought was some consolation; but it was not the same as being able to touch Maggie and really feel her.
"Where are Brigit's papers?"
It was Liana's voice that snapped Brigit from her thoughts. She had wondered how long it would be before her mother would begin snooping through her life with Maggie. A sly smile came to Brigit's face as she watched Maggie square her shoulders and look Liana Evans in the eye.
"They're in the office. Why?" Maggie asked. Mama Dee had come from the kitchen and was standing at the entrance to the hall in silent witness to the exchange going on. Her presence blocked the path to the office where Maggie and Brigit hid the business side of their life together.
"I want to see them. Surely, my daughter meant for her family to handle her affairs in the event of her death. Now that-that has happened, her family will do so," Liana stated matter-of-factly.
Maggie and Mama Dee exchanged a brief glance. Carefully, Maggie set her wine gla.s.s on the small table next to her and returned her gaze to the woman attempting to trump her with the ties of blood. Brigit watched intently as her partner took a deep breath. Maggie had been drinking all afternoon and Brigit knew better than anyone that Maggie was a force to be reckoned with when her temper was ignited while intoxicated. Liana Evans was in for the storm of her life if she didn't listen carefully and heed the warning that Maggie would give her before firing all canons.
"Brigit did mean for her family to handle her affairs," Maggie began. Her voice was calm and level. Brigit knew her temper was standing ready at the door to be loosed on the woman that had abandoned her daughter for being a lesbian. "Her family has done just as she wished with the exception of being buried. As for her papers," Maggie paused. Brigit and Maggie had set everything legally in order when they had bought the apartment together. Right of Survivorship Right of Survivorship was a wonderful thing at this moment. "They have nothing to do with you." was a wonderful thing at this moment. "They have nothing to do with you."
"That's impossible. I don't believe you. I'm her mother," Liana spat vehemently.
"Who disowned her when she decided to follow her heart," Maggie pointed out. The intonation of her voice had risen. Brigit saw the fire spark in her partner's dark brown eyes.
"Brigit made her family of all the people you saw here today. You did her a favor by shunning her. She was free to choose wonderful, loving people to call her family. You shut the door on the blood lines, Liana. Brigit made sure that the people who truly loved her would be taken care of. So if there's anything you're looking to take away from me, you can go to h.e.l.l because Brigit made sure she would always take care of me. The house is mine, the accounts are mine, her memory is mine," Maggie explained. "I think you need to leave now."
Brigit watched her mother square her shoulders in offense that she would be asked to leave anywhere. Brigit could tell that Liana was considering pushing the issue further. The idea would do no good and Brigit saw that fact register on her mother's face as she stared into the dark eyes of Maggie Devon. Mama Dee made a slight movement towards Maggie, as if to reinforce the fact that it was time for Liana Evans to leave. Finally, Liana picked up her purse and started for the door.
"My lawyer will be calling you," she warned as she opened the door. Maggie made no reply as the door was slammed shut. Instead, she picked up her wine gla.s.s and drained the contents in one quick swallow.
"Hard to believe that Brigit came from that," Mama Dee sighed as she reached out and took Maggie's empty wine gla.s.s and disappeared back to the kitchen.
Brigit watched as Maggie walked over to the sofa and sank down on it. It had been a rough day for her even though she had kept a brave face and, on occasion, forced a smile to show everyone that she was doing all right. Brigit had left her side only once to confront John Blackwick at the cemetery. Even though she was dead, she was not about to let Maggie go through all this by herself.
Maggie ran a tired hand through her hair and sighed heavily. Her anger was keeping her from breaking down again. Brigit watched as her partner's eyes roved around the room. Everything that had been theirs as a couple was now solely Maggie's. She had told the truth to Liana. Brigit had made sure that Maggie would always be taken care of. It was a decision she had been made the day they had first met, when their souls had recognized one another and realized they were immediately whole.
It had been a warm day despite the fact that fall had already made its announcement of arrival. Brigit had accepted an invitation from her friend, Parker James, to hit the beach for the last party of the season. Usually, Brigit avoided the beach parties. She preferred to spend her weekends hiking or cycling through the mountains surrounding the small college she had spent the last four years at. They were more accessible to her than the beach, which was a two hour train ride away.
Parker had been adamant, however. They were best friends and Brigit had used up all the declining pa.s.ses to a beach party. Soon, Parker had pointed out, they would be going their separate ways and though their friendship would always remain, time spent together would become a rarity. Hoping to avoid any more of the guilt trip, Brigit gave in and packed her beach towel and flip-flops for a day by the ocean.
Maggie Devon had been a regular at the beach parties. She had seen her share of bonfires and hook-ups between the campus lesbians that were exploring their s.e.xualities now that they were free from the confines of their upbringings and the watchful eyes of strict parents. She had managed to refrain from becoming involved. None of the group moved her to the idea that they might be 'the one'. Instead, she had become the group counselor, the group mediator when a fight broke out and the occasional matchmaker. She had never thought she would find her soul mate on the beach.
Yet, there they were. Brigit had followed Parker across the sand, wondering if it had been such a good idea to come after all. Parker was filling her brain with all the drama that had been going on lately, warning her who to avoid and giving her tips on who it was okay to talk to with no strings attached. Brigit was getting lost in all the names.
Then, she saw her.
She was walking toward them with a slight bounce to her step. The ocean breeze was blowing the ends of her sarong away from her tanned legs. Her close cropped sandy brown hair gave her face a pixie's appearance as she smiled at the two women who here approaching her. Brigit was stunned into silence as she something deep inside her began wanting to rush to the beautiful woman.
"Hey you guys!" Maggie had called to them with a wave of her arm. "They're setting up around the cliff. There's supposed to be bigger winds when the sun goes down," she said. Her smile seemed to freeze as she stopped walking and looked into Brigit's dark brown eyes.
"Maggie Devon, this is my friend Brigit Malone," Parker introduced when the silence became too much. "Bree, this is Maggie."
"h.e.l.lo," Brigit managed to say, hoping there was some confidence in her voice as she extended her hand. Maggie gently slipped her own hand into Brigit's and they both acknowledged the energy that began to run between their palms by locking gazes again.
"Where are you headed?" Parker asked, hoping to break the mushiness of the moment she was witnessing. Maggie glanced briefly at Parker before returning her gaze to the dark woman who was still holding her hand softly. She suddenly wondered how she and Brigit had managed to never cross paths before this moment in time.
"Oh, I, uh, I left a few things in the car. I was just headed back to get them," Maggie answered.
"Do you need a hand?" Brigit asked, suddenly not wanting to leave the smaller woman's side ever.
"Uh, I, no, I think I can manage it. It won't take long," Maggie promised. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Okay, then," Parker said quickly. She was getting bored with the moment. "Bree, give Maggie her hand back," she instructed, punching her best friend in the shoulder. Brigit looked at her in surprise before realizing what she had been told to do. Reluctantly, she released Maggie's hand.
"I'll be back in a minute," Maggie promised. She hadn't wanted the dark woman to let her hand go; but she was on an errand and she was suddenly sure it was somewhat awkward for Parker to be in the middle of a meeting of souls.
"We'll see you then," Parker interjected before Brigit could say anything. She pulled on Brigit's arm, but Brigit remained where she stood. Instead, Brigit turned to watch Maggie Devon continue on her way, a devilish smile coming to her face.
"What's so funny?" Parker asked when she finally noticed Brigit's smile.
"That's the woman I'm going to grow old with," Brigit announced.
Parker looked down the beach at the retreating form of Maggie Devon. She had hung out with Maggie on many occasions and she had seen nothing special about her; but then, Parker had a certain taste in women and Maggie Devon had never fit that criteria.
"What ever you say, pal," Parker said. She clapped Brigit on the shoulder and pulled her toward the party that was waiting to begin on the other side of the cliff.
They had never been apart since that day. Maggie had returned as quickly as she had promised and found her place beside Brigit. Before the night was done, they had kissed and known for sure where their hearts belonged. Before the week was out, their pa.s.sions had been ignited and their love unleashed. Before the month was over, they were living together happily knowing they would outlast any of the relationships that had been formed that year. They had been right in their thinking for ten years minus one day.
Brigit had made a promise to always take care of Maggie. She had kept that promise.
As she sat watching Maggie, Brigit's thoughts turned to her brief conversation with John Blackwick. What had he said? He had a job offer. What kind of job could a ghost do? And, what was an opportunity to remain an opportunity to remain? Brigit couldn't imagine leaving Maggie's side. She was a ghost now. She could stay with Maggie every minute of every day if she wanted to and she did. What other option could there be?
"Everything is all cleaned up."
Maggie and Brigit looked to the hall and saw Mama Dee emerging. There was a weary look on her aged face. Brigit thought she had never seen the woman suddenly looking her age of sixty-three. Mama Dee had been with Maggie almost every minute for the last week. Her grief over the loss had etched itself into her black eyes and the dark circles underneath looked purple on her black skin. She had lost one of her babies, one of the children she was proud to claim.