Monday, August 8, 2011, 7:00 a.m. Los Angeles, California

I wake to the sound of Rose's cell phone ringing. Rising to my elbows, I roll over to snatch her phone from the bed stand. The incoming number looks international.

My eyes flick around the room for my sister. The bathroom door's closed. My sister – I mean – my mother - must be in the shower.

As my skin itches, my left hand snatches a strip of Suboxone. It's under my tongue before the aches and pains of withdrawal tear through my body. I answer the call with my right hand.

The woman on the phone speaks in a thick Irish brogue. "Rosalyn?"

"No, it's me, Aislinn."

The shower shuts off and Rose bursts from the bathroom in a towel. "Aunt Ester?"

I nod and put the phone on speaker.

Ester's disembodied voice floats across the room. "Yer father, he be dead."

The phone slips from my grip to land on the bed. Me and Rose exchange wide-eyed glances.

"When I went to the rest home, the staff tole me he died."

Rose gasps. "You're sure?"

Ester laughs in a barking cough. "I demanded to see the body. Nieces, I snatched the sheet off Seamus and checked for a pulse. When I didn't find one, I pinched his thigh. They'll have to screw him into the ground."

Rose pulls me to stand as her feet move in a little happy dance. "Praise be to Saint Brigid!"

"Indeed. Nieces, you owe me a visit. Bring Amber."

Hope flares in my heart. If Rose's rapist is dead, then Conlan's free of him. "What about Conlan?"

Aunt Ester snorts. "A bit of Seamus's trickery."

I squeeze Rose's fingers as tingling bursts from my chest to rush down my arms and legs. "Then explain to me how we saw Conlan in the Underground Seattle in 2007. Seamus didn't know I existed until a couple days ago."

She pulls me in for a hug and pats my hair. The scent of rosewater tickles my nostrils. "That psychologist Betty Morton probably conjured him."

My heart's squeezed in a vice, crushed under the weight of their denials. With both hands I shove Rose. "I'm not giving up! Conlan's here. I can feel him."

Aunt Ester groans. "Sorry my dear, but yer boy is dead."

I let loose a scream  as Rose ends the call.

The momentary joy over Seamus's death flees her face. Tears drip down her cheeks. "Aislinn, I can't bear to see your heart broken all over again."

For fuck's sake! I've got a chance to get my baby boy back, and she's treating me like a child. Like she's my mother.

The room seems to shrink and the air feels heavy. I've got to get out of here. Throwing the door open, I'm hit by a blast of hot air and the pungent scent of coffee.

I glance at my shorts and tank top, then at Rose in her towel. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

The steamy air clings to my skin as I walk the brick pathway under the eaves. Through the kitchen windows facing the courtyard, I see my ex. He's wearing a crisp, collared white shirt and his muscular arm lifts a cup to his mouth. Just as he takes a sip, his hazel eyes meet mine. Christopher waves his free hand and gestures for me to join him.

I enter the warm, sunlit kitchen.

My ex heats a half-cup of milk with a splash of cream in the microwave. His face shows no emotion as he removes the mug. "I remember how you used to like your coffee in the morning." Christopher motions for me to sit at the granite counter.

I wish I could tell him the good news about Seamus's death, and my quest to find Conlan. But my rocket scientist ex doesn't believe in magic. He'll write me off as an addled junkie.

As I slide onto a stool, he pours the mug's contents into a stainless steel frothing pitcher. Christopher grabs a hand-blender and whips up a steamy mixture.

My mind wanders to happier times. Me in our sunlit Seattle kitchen. Conlan babbling happily in his high chair. Amber watching silently as I feed my beautiful baby boy. The savory smell of coffee as Christopher prepares my mug, just as he's done every day since we got married.

His voice slices through my trip along memory lane. "I've got to leave for work. Is Rose awake?"

I nod, blinking back tears as Conlan's coos fade to nothingness. I barely register Christopher exiting the kitchen. The weight of my baby boy's death crushes me. The grief is suffocating, a rock pile atop my chest. What if Rose and Ester are right about Conlan?   Self-loathing and guilt consume me in the black pit of despair. I know this torture. The searing pain brought me to the needle.

If I shoot up, this gnawing sickness of spirit will stop.

Decided, I return to the guestroom and find my ex speaking to Rose. He hands her three pills. "Make sure Amber takes these with her breakfast. I left her favorite cereal in the pantry."

Silently, I slip into the bathroom. Of course I brought H with me. As I retrieve the fake tampon filled with black tar heroin, I listen for the sound of them leaving the bedroom.

With a click, the bedroom door shuts. I open the curtain covering the bathroom window a crack. Christopher's heading to the front door. Rose's lanky form crosses the courtyard, probably to wake Amber.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Time to fade into nothingness.

Suddenly the bathroom door flies open to slam against the wall. A gust of wind rushes through the now-open bedroom door,  bringing an unforgettable scent. I'm inhaling Conlan, as real as if I'm holding him and smelling the top of his curl-covered head.

Fuck it. My baby needs me!

As Rose enters Amber's room, I step out from the shade under the eaves and into the sun. It's not even 8:00 and the heat's pressing against my skin, slowing my movement. Retracing my steps from the night before last, I descend the stairs next to Amber's room. I pass the laundry room at the northwestern end of the house's horseshoe shape, then head east for the open space of the reservoir.

The chain link's hot as my hands grasp the fence. As I drop to the reservoir side, Lucy materializes in front of me.

"Thought you could get rid of me? Your little spell may work in the house, but it won't do shit out here." Lucy leans in and squints. "At first, I didn't believe it was you. Damn, you're old!"

My teeth clench as I battle inwardly. I'd tell her to fuck off, but I don't have time for Lucy's drama.

Conlan's wails float over the grassy meadow. Lucy's head snaps toward the sound, then back to me. Her mouth spreads into a wide grin.

"Oooh, is he yours?"

I ignore her to ease my way down the hill. As I pick my way past gopher holes, Lucy floats alongside.

"A dead baby! Bitchin'. I'm glad your stupid baby's dead. Because of you, I never got to have a baby."

Rage flares from my heart to my fists. I stop and swing, catching air.

Lucy throws back her blonde head in laughter. "Maybe I'll take your baby! I'll be his mama."

I break into a run and stumble on the slope. The forward momentum sends me into a roll. My head smacks against a rock.

Monday, August 8, 2011, 1:00 p.m.

My eyes drift open to the sound of a church bell tolling 1:00. Where am I? My nostrils flicker at the savory scent of mugwort, which we burned during the cleansing ritual.

I blink to clear the fog, and find I'm lying on the guestroom bed. Amber's sitting to my left, her face expressionless as usual.

From the end of the bed, Kibbles rises to pounce on my chest. His pink tongue darts to deliver a slobbery reunion kiss.

Rose leans in from my right to pull Kibbles off. He scoots to the center of the bed and flops his head against my leg. Rose grabs my hand and kisses it. "Thanks be to Saint Brigid, you're okay!"

I yank my hand from her grasp to touch the back of my pounding head. No sign of a nasty lump, but my hair's damp. Expecting blood, I examine my palm and find nothing. My heartbeat quickens with the memory of Conlan's cries, and Lucy's threats. "What happened?"

Amber shows no emotion as her fingers graze my left hand. "We found you at the bottom of the hill, outside the dining room."

Rose interjects, "It's 110 degrees, and you're sitting cross-legged, like you were meditating! You mumbled something about Conlan. Amber helped me get you up the hill and into the house."

I glance at my arms, expecting to find a nasty sunburn. As if she's reading my mind, Amber says, "Your magic must've protected you. Anyone else would be burnt like a crispy fry."

Rose leans in to brush a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. "Just to be safe, we put you in a cool tub."

I move to rise, and Rose throws her arm across my chest. "Where are you going?"

"Back out to find Conlan. This morning, I heard him crying out in the reservoir."

Rose pushes Kibbles aside to straddle me. "It's not Conlan! Seamus O'Donnell conjured a doppelgänger." She glances at Amber. "Now that he's dead, that's the end of it!"

Kibbles bounds off the bed to land at Amber's side. She pats his fluffy head, then looks away as her face reddens. "We can scry to find Conlan."

I shove Rose off and rise to face my daughter. "We can what?"

"See the present, past, or future."  Amber's eyes flick to Rose. "My brother is lost. I'm supposed to save him."

Rose throws up her hands. "Absolutely not! You could've died from heat exhaustion."

My face burns with rage. "Stop telling me what to do! You're not my mother."

As I pivot to flee the room, Amber's cold hand grabs mine. She never touches me.

Leaning in, she whispers, "We'll sneak out tonight."

My lips spread into a smirk as I turn to Rose. "Leave me alone. I need some space right now."

AUTHOR NOTES:

Character Illustration of Cowboy Joe

Banner Photograph of Peppergate Ranch's back yard taken by the Author.

Playlist: Cracking by Suzanne Vega

https://youtu.be/32GGaizRqu0