The Pagan Stone Page 0,30

of them, their colors and shapes. When he heard the knock on the door, he glanced at his watch. It appeared Cybil was early. He left the cards where they were, grateful the simple game had kept his mind off the past, and off the woman as well.

When he pulled open the door, it was Joanne Barry on the front deck. "Well, hey."

She only looked at him for a moment. Her dark hair was braided back, as she often wore it. Her eyes were clear in her pretty face, her body slim in jeans and a cotton shirt. Then she touched his face, laid her lips on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips in her traditional greeting when there was love.

"Thank you for the orchid."

"You're welcome. Sorry I missed you when I dropped it off. Do you want to come in? Do you have time?"

"Yes, I'd like to come in, for a few minutes."

"Probably something to drink back here." He led the way back toward the kitchen.

" Cal 's got a nice place here. It's always a surprise."

"Really?"

"That he-all of you-are grown men. That Cal 's a grown man with this very nice home of his own, with its beautiful gardens. Sometimes still, just every so often, I wake up in the morning and think: I've got to get those kids up and off to school. Then I remember, the kids are grown and gone. It's both a relief and a punch in the heart. I miss my little guys."

"You'll never be rid of us." Knowing Jo, he skipped right over all the sodas, whittled her choices down to juice or bottled water. "I can offer you water or what I think might be grapefruit juice."

"I'm fine, Gage. Don't bother."

"Could make some tea-or you could. I'd probably-" He broke off when he turned and saw a tear sliding down her cheek. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"The note you left me, with the plant."

"I'd hoped to be able to talk to you. I stopped by Cal 's mom's, but-"

"I know. Frannie told me. You wrote: 'Because you were always there for me. Because I know you always will be.'"

"You were. I do."

With a sigh, she put her arms around him, laid her head on his shoulder. "All of your life, as a parent, you wonder and you worry. Did I do that right? Should I have done that, said this? Then, suddenly, in a fingersnap it seems, your children are grown. And still you wonder and you worry. Could I have done this, did I remember to say that? If you're very lucky, one day one of your children..." She leaned back to look into his eyes. "Because you're mine and Frannie's, too. One of your children writes you a note that arrows straight into your heart. All that worry goes away." She gave him a watery smile. "For a moment anyway. Thank you for the moment, baby."

"I wouldn't have gotten through without you and Frannie."

"I think you're wrong about that. But we damn sure helped." She laughed now, gave him a hard squeeze. "I have to go. Come and see me soon."

"I will. I'll walk you out."

"Don't be silly. I know the way." She started out, turned. "I pray for you. Being me, I cover my bases. God, the Goddess, Buddha, Allah, and so on. I pretty much tap on them all. I just want you to know that a day doesn't go by that I don't have all of you in my prayers. I'm nagging the hell out of every higher power there is. You're going to come through this, all of you. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SHE'D BE EXACTLY ON time. Not late, not early, but on the button. Cybil had that preciseness about her. She wore a shirt the color of ripe, juicy peaches with bark brown pants that cropped off a couple inches above her ankles, and sandals with a couple of thin straps that showed off those intriguing narrow feet with their toes painted to match the shirt. She'd scooped that mass of curling hair back at the temples so he could see the trio of tiny hoops on her left ear, the duet of them on her right.

She carried a brown handbag the size of a bull terrier.

"I heard you had a visitor. I'll need you to tell me about it so we're sure nothing gets lost in translation."

And right to business, he thought. "Fine."