A Most Excellent Midlife Crisis - Robyn Peterman Page 0,84
that important?” Missy asked.
“Not really,” I said, shaking my head. “But you’ll want to know her story at some point.”
“Why?” Missy asked.
“Getting there,” I promised, feeling on edge and unsure if I was ready for what was about to go down. “Birdie knew your great-granny and what she was. She went to her with my mother’s soul. Your great-granny told Birdie that you were the strongest Soul Keeper alive—full of love and magic. Both my mother and Birdie hitched a ride in you for many years.”
“But you said Birdie was a ghost,” Missy pointed out.
“I did,” I agreed, marveling at how well Missy was following. “She left you recently and came to me.”
“And?” Missy pressed, growing antsy and excited.
“And before she went into the light, she told me my mother’s soul was still inside you.”
Missy took another long swallow and handed the bottle to Heather. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the middle of the room and slapped her hands onto her hips.
“Fine. How do we get her out?”
Everyone was speechless—even me.
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” Missy demanded. “I sure as hell don’t want Clarissa showing up and trying to rip your mother’s soul out of me. So, I’d appreciate a little cooperation. You people feel me?”
“Umm… yes, I ahh,” I stuttered, standing up and feeling way over my head.
“How do we do it?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I have no idea, dude.”
Both of us looked around at the group of people who’d lived thousands of years longer than we had. They seemed more confused than we did.
Crap.
“We’ll wing it,” Missy said.
“Is that smart?” Tim asked.
Missy rolled her eyes. “You have a better idea, Tim?”
“Umm… no, I don’t. Winging it sounds like a good plan,” he said.
“You ready?” I asked my best friend.
Taking my hands in hers, she took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Missy’s hands were warm in mine. She smiled at me, and I smiled back.
“We’ve always been connected,” she said.
“Always,” I agreed.
“And we always will be,” she said, closing her eyes. “Just call to her, Daisy. She’ll come.”
A lightly jasmine-scented breeze blew through the room and an ethereal lavender glow surrounded Missy. Breathing in the scent, I closed my eyes and connected with Missy in a way I never had before.
“Alana,” I called out tentatively. “Come to me. It’s safe now.”
I waited.
Nothing happened.
Missy squeezed my hands. “Don’t be scared. Did you call her Alana when you were a child?”
“No,” I said with a little laugh, my eyes still closed.
“Call her what she will recognize,” she suggested.
“You think that will work?” I asked.
“I know it will,” Missy replied. “I can feel it.”
I’d always known Missy was special. It wasn’t until this moment I understood the meaning of the word.
“Mom? Mama?” I tried again. “It’s me, Daisy—your daughter. I’m here to lead you into the light. You’ll be safe with me. I love you so very much and… I want to save you like you saved me. Please come to me.”
The wind picked up and my eyes shot open. Missy’s eyes rolled back in her head and a beautiful golden soul orb appeared on her shoulder. I quickly wrapped my arms around Missy so she wouldn’t fall to the floor then I gently kissed the soul on her shoulder.
It wiggled and glowed. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Did we do it?” Missy asked, holding on to me for balance as she came back from wherever she’d just gone.”
“We did it,” I said softly, carefully taking my mother’s soul into my hands and leading Missy to the couch.
“Will she stay in that form?” Missy asked, marveling at the orb.
“No,” my father said, approaching me with tears streaming down his handsome face. “Alana, take another form. Come and say hello to your family.”
The Archangel waved his hand and the room filled with an enchantment so strong, I found it difficult to breathe. Shimmering gold flecks rained down from above, creating a sparkling backdrop to the magic that was happening before my eyes.
My father put his arm around me, and we watched in awe as the golden orb morphed into the woman I’d been missing my whole life. Her smile undid me, and my father continued to cry.
“I am so sorry, Alana,” he whispered hoarsely. “So sorry.”
She floated over and circled us a few times. I worried she didn’t recognize me. I’d been five when she’d died, and now I was forty.
“I’m Daisy,” I told her as she hovered in front of me and studied my face.