Dylan’s chest vibrated from the swift pounding of his heart. The wet sand between his toes felt more like cement preventing him from moving his legs. As the air around him spun, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck swayed with it.
A faded image in the back of his mind swirled through the fog of memories. His mom was telling the truth. Vague pieces of memory danced near the surface, but not close enough for him to grasp. Why couldn’t he remember the dreams?
“Dylan, are you okay?”
Though she stood right beside him, he was barely aware of her hand gripping his shoulder. Her voice carried to him as though she were at the far end of a tunnel. If what she said about his dreams were true…
“I’ve gotta go, Mom.”
“Why, Dylan? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just need to get back to L.A.,” he began as he glanced at her and then down the beach. Off in the distance he noticed a woman packing some items into a beach bag. She looked as if she might be leaving. He couldn’t see her face, but her long, dark, wavy hair reminded him of the girl in his dreams.
Could it be…no…well, maybe.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, as he handed her his guitar and took off running across the sand.
“Dylan? What are you doing?” she called to him, but he didn’t have time to explain.
He had to get to this woman before she left and see if it was her. Maybe he did know the girl from his dreams. Since the woman was at the beach this early, it could be a sign that she lived close by. What if it was someone he’d gone to school with and just couldn’t recall?
The muscles in his legs burned and pinched, but he didn’t stop.
He reached the woman in a matter of seconds and was about to ask her name when she turned around to look at him. The moment their eyes met, his gut clenched.
It wasn’t his angel.
* * *
“Dylan, you’re really starting to worry me.”
He should never have told her anything; he regretted every word that had passed through his lips. Why did he think telling her his problems would pacify her? She was his mother. The worrier. Her wisdom was great but not worth the price of upsetting her.
“I already told you I’m fine. I’m tired, and I need to head out so I can get back to the house. I have a long list of crap to do before tonight.”
“Let me do a reading.”
“What? No!” he said, shocking himself at the callous tone in his voice. He loved his mother more than he loved anyone else in his life, but they didn’t see eye to eye on everything. Her practice of New Age beliefs was, for better words, peculiar. He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t necessarily believe in it.
His eyes fell over crystals of every shape and color spread across the room like a rainbow.
Amethysts, garnets, turquoise, citrine.
She owned many. They all had a purpose, though he’d never taken the time to learn their usefulness. He did know the stone she wore around her neck was a moonstone. It increased intuition.
He laughed to himself.
Like she needed any help with that.
“Why are you so opposed to a reading?” The edgy tone in his mother’s voice penetrated the chaos in Dylan’s mind. He didn’t remember the walk back to her house, only that she insisted she could help him with her gift.
“Because I don’t need a reading. I’m fine. All I need is some sleep. Give me a week to catch up on that and I will feel like a new man.”
He couldn’t really expect her to believe him when he didn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. The seam of his life continued to unravel like a spool of thread. If anyone held the key to unlocking the mysteries in his mind, she did.
He just didn’t know if he was ready to face the truth.
“I can’t force you to do it, but I think it will help. Please, let me try. What’s the harm?”
His eyes skimmed over a wooden box sitting on the shelf near her reading table. Carved inside the rosewood, a pattern of intricate vines and flowers caught his attention. The contents of the box seemed to whisper to him.
We hold the answers you seek.
The longer he stared at the box, the more anxious he grew.
It was official.
He was going nuts.
First dreams, now voices?
“Why after all these years are you so persistent that I get a reading? You never wanted to do one before.”
“You’ve never been this lost in life. The tarot is for guidance, Dylan. It shows the path your life is on. You can decide if you want to stay on course or change things.”
Dylan turned to face his mother. Her eyes, plagued with concern, narrowed. Even though she was twenty years his senior, he thought she hid her age well. But not today, not at this precise moment when he was scaring the crap out of her with his abnormal behavior.
He returned his attention to the box and said, “Okay, I will stay if you can make it quick.”
She didn’t speak but simply nodded her head before walking over to the table. Striking up a match, she lit a couple of white candles before sitting in her chair. She pointed to the seat across from her.
“Please sit.”
Dylan stared at the chair. Hesitantly, he eased into it, clearing his dry throat.
“What are the candles for?”
“White candles bring spiritual enlightenment to those who seek the truth,” she explained while opening the box of cards. After she put the box away, she handed the cards to Dylan.
“Shuffle the cards and think about what you want them to tell you. By doing this, you’re charging the cards with your energy. When you’re ready, hand them back to me.”
Reaching across the table, he wrapped his fingers, calloused from playing guitar, around the deck of cards. An electric charge crawled up his arm and spread through his body. Did something shock him? He wasn’t sure, didn’t really care at this point. All he wanted was to appease his mother and then go home.
Dylan thought about what he wanted to know most. Who was the beautiful girl in his dreams, why was he dreaming of her, and how long had she been appearing in his dreams? He thought about it repeatedly, then handed the cards back to his mother.
“I’m ready,” he told her.
“Then let’s begin. I’m going to do the Celtic Cross spread on you. This spread is more in-depth than a single card.”
His mom began to spread the cards out in front of him. Dylan watched closely as her eyes widened with each card she placed on the table. At one point, she glanced over at him with an arched brow as though she had discovered a deep, dark secret.
When all the cards were in proper position, it reminded him of a cross with a vertical line to his left. His mother pointed at the center card, underneath a card crossing it.
“This card represents the heart of the matter. It’s the reason why you are sitting before me; why you sought to have a reading. This is what is happening with you,” she explained, as his eyes fell to the eerie card. The picture showed a man lying on the ground with swords stuck into his back.
“This is the Ten of Swords.”
“What does that mean?” Dylan asked, as he gazed up at his mother. The look on her face made his stomach clench.
“The Ten of Swords represents pain and mental anguish.”
He snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
“But if you look further into the card, you will see that the dark sky is giving way to the golden sunrise. All that is bad will not remain bad. Think of it as the light at the end of a tunnel. The pain and suffering you’re going through is about to end.”
When his mother’s eyes met his, a sense of calmness filled him. At least, until he looked at the next card. This too was a card filled with swords. Instead of piercing the figure in this picture, they dangled above her head.
“If the anguish is going to end, then why does the next card look just as grim?”
Her eyes fell back to the cards. She placed her index finger on
the one he mentioned.
“This represents influences or obstacles. It’s crossing you. The Nine of Swords often means anxiety, but it can also represent something troubling you or making you lose sleep. You mentioned your dreams when we were at the beach. That would coincide with the Nine of Swords.”
Dylan felt a chill run up his spine.
“The cards are honest,” he admitted.
His mother didn’t look at him. She was looking at the next card.
“This is the root of the cause. It’s causing the problem you’re facing.”
“What card is that?” he asked. It was a brighter card, with what looked like goblets of gold. Each goblet contained a white flower. There were two people on it, children, perhaps. One was handing a goblet to another.
“This is the Six of Cups, the card of the past. Something or someone from your past is causing the torment you’re facing.” She gazed up at him, again. “What’s troubling you, Dylan?”
“Lack of sleep,” he lied before gazing back at the cards.
“I only ask because this next card, The Moon, tells me that your subconscious is trying to tell you something. It is also a card of dreams and fantasies. If your dreams are bothering you to the point that you’re causing yourself mental anguish,” she paused as she pointed to the first card, “then you need to listen to what your dreams are telling you. If you don’t, you will continue to be stuck in limbo.”
“I don’t know what my dreams are trying to tell me. All I know is that I’m dreaming about…”
He didn’t finish. Golden eyes filled his mind once again.
“I think they are telling you that something bigger than you is at work here. Look at this card,” she insisted.
When Dylan gazed down, the card she pointed at had a woman kneeling beside a body of water. White stars seemed to fall from the sky while one larger, golden star crowned her head.
“This position in the spread shows a possible outcome. The Star card is about having faith and hope on our side. Think of it as divine intervention. Someone up there knows what is best for you, even if you don’t.”
“I wish they would let me in on the secret.”
Her lips pressed tightly as she nodded. “You must have faith and trust in yourself as well as this higher power. If you don’t, the thing you seek most could slip away. Without hope and faith, you cannot see the love of heaven.”
Dylan thought about his mom’s words. If he was receiving divine intervention, did that mean the angel in his dream was just helping him to find what his heart wanted most?
He wanted her.
But what if she really is an angel? How can she be helping me if the thing I want, I can’t have?
A crack of thunder shook the house. Dylan flinched at the sound, casting his eyes to the large bay window. The sky grew dark with gray clouds floating across the horizon, causing the room to darken as well. His skin crawled with pins and needles as he wondered if the storm was an omen.
He should not have agreed to this reading. Some truths were better left untold.
“Are you still with me?” she asked. Dylan cut his eyes toward his mother, who was now frowning. “Where did you just go?”
“Nowhere,” he answered. “Just taking in everything you’re telling me.”
“Then you’ll be interested in this next card,” she said, circling it with her finger. “This is your future card. What it reveals in this spot will happen within the next few weeks.”
Dylan studied the card, noting the white hand holding a golden goblet. Water poured from the cup in a waterfall pattern before pooling in a stream or some type of reservoir below it. He shifted in his seat as lightning lit up the room.
Another boom of thunder echoed off the walls.
He met his mother’s eyes, wondering if she could sense his uneasiness.
“Does the hand on this card represent God or something?”
“Not necessarily. The Ace of Cups has several meanings. One is the great seed of love and affection. It predicts new relationships on the horizon. If you are searching for love, this card is a positive sign.”
Every sound in the room faded.
No way…
“And if I’m not searching for love, what does it mean?” He wanted to believe in love, wanted to believe it could happen for him. But with all the bad experiences, he wondered if a relationship would be worth his time and energy.
“The Ace of Cups also has deep roots in intuition, but it still leads back to love. It could be romantic or platonic. Only you know the answer to that. You have to trust what your gut is telling you.”
My gut tells me I’m crazy for agreeing to this reading. The one woman I could imagine being with isn’t real.
“Are you ready for the next card?”
Dylan pushed his thoughts aside and sat up straight.
“No. I’m done. I can’t listen to any more of this. I’m sorry, Mom.”
The words left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially when he noticed her eyes. Disappointment lay in them like a child who didn’t get the toy he wanted for his birthday.
“We don’t have many cards left. Please allow me to finish,” she begged.
“I can’t. I really need to go.” He stood up and turned to walk away.
“Will you at least let me tell you about your last two cards?”
He stopped short of escape. Why did she insist on doing this? Had she found something in the cards that she felt he had to know? Hanging his head, he let out an impatient sigh before turning toward her.
“I don’t mean to be irritable toward you, Mom. I hope you know that. This is just too much to take in right now.”
“You don’t have to explain. The Hanged Man already warned me.”
Dylan gazed at the card she pointed to. The image of a man hanging upside down on a pole struck him as odd.
“I guess this is the part where I ask you what the card means, so lay it on me.”
“If you hang on to your fears and doubts, you will lose what you hold closest to your heart. Don’t be afraid to let someone else get close to you. Surrender to what your heart wants.”
But what if he couldn’t have what his heart wanted?
“I’ll take that into consideration,” Dylan said, forcing a smile onto his face for his mother’s benefit.
“I hope you do, because if you let go of your fears,” she said and pointed toward the last card, “your results will be rewarding. You see, this last card is the outcome. For you, it is the Two of Cups. On a spiritual level, this card means an emotional balance. But this card also represents a union of two people, a bond so powerful that you and the other person can be lost in it.
“If you heed the warning of The Hanged Man and cast your fears aside, your heart will guide you to the place you need to be. Listen to your heart, Dylan. You will get what it desires.”
Dylan’s eyes grew larger.
“Are you sure about this?”
Her nod filled him with a sense of hope.
His mother pushed her chair out and came to a stand. She wasted no time in walking toward him, hands reaching for his.
“Baby, will you tell me what’s going on now? I mean, I have a sense of what’s going on, but I want to hear it from you.”
Gazing down at his mother’s hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze before pulling back. He walked over to the large bay window overlooking the shore. The storm wreaking havoc over the beach reminded him of the dream’s effect on his mind. The waves beating against the rocks were like his dreams beating against his subconscious. Both wanted a release, but kept hitting a roadblock.
As he thought about the cards and what they represented, he tried to make sense of what it all meant. How could he get his heart’s desire if what he wanted most was a figment of his imagination—or divine intervention?
“Dylan? Please. What is it?”
He let out a long sigh before turning his head toward hers.
“It’s the angel, Mom. She’s back in
my dreams …and she’s all grown up.”
* * * * *
CHAPTER 4
Heaven stepped aside as Ms. Cheryl dragged a large garment bag inside the room and placed it on the hook beside the changing room. The zipper growled on its journey to the floor. Ivory lace peeked from within, grabbing Heaven’s attention. She sucked in a gasp.
As her eyes swept across the tulle fabric, the ache in her heart throbbed a little harder. Though the dress wasn’t the classic style she envisioned for her own wedding, she knew it would look fabulous on Chelsea. Especially the corseted empire waist. It would hug Chelsea’s body perfectly.
Heaven’s eyes fell to the clover-colored bridesmaid dress that lay across the settee by the dressing room. Her face heated as she imagined white silk and lace in its place.
Would she ever get the chance to wear such a beautiful garment?
The bridesmaid dress was beautiful and sexy. She might have a chance to look sexy for the first time in her life. But who would appreciate it?
No one. At least, no one that she wanted.
Like him.
His appearance in her dreams had plagued her for months. Why couldn’t she shake him from her mind today? Maybe if she could remember more than espresso eyes and russet hair, the longing inside her heart would dissipate.
And that smile…
No one else’s smile made her feel like she was floating on air.
Chelsea’s fidgeting broke the magical trance. Like a sixteen-year-old who had just passed her driver’s exam, Chelsea lit up the room with her smile.
Time to put the daydream aside. This was Chelsea’s day. Not hers.
“You will look amazing in that dress,” Heaven said, mustering up her best smile when their eyes met.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Chelsea asked. Her eyes moved from Heaven and back to the gown. “I can’t wait to wear it.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Heaven walked to the garment bag and removed the dress. The silky softness continued to feed the longing in her heart. She released a sigh.