Stranger in the Mirror [Shades of Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) Page 2
“What the devil are you doing out here by yourself?”
She shrugged, staring down at the toe that kept her swing moving. He dropped down in the swing next to hers. They sat in silence as the early morning glow filtered through the oak trees. She looked at him for a few minutes, studying him. He held her gaze, wishing he could read her eyes. There was something different about her, but of course, there would be, given her recent trauma.
“Do you believe in God?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes. “Sure, I do. Do you?”
“I do now.”
“You think it was God who helped you get away from the… creep who attacked you?”
“It’s a lot more complicated than that.”
He wasn’t following her, but he wanted her to get out her anxieties. “Sometimes near-death experiences bring people closer to God, or give them religion when they didn’t have it before.”
She laughed, a strange, thick sound. “I’m not talking about a near-death experience.” She pressed a clenched fist against her lips. “What do you think happens to people when they die?”
“They go to Heaven. Or hell.” He shrugged. “But you didn’t die.”
“Do you think it’s really cut and dried like that? I mean, is your only choice Heaven or hell, or is there another option?”
He shrugged. “Catholics believe in Purgatory, so I guess that’s a possibility.”
She studied him again, as if weighing whether to go on. “What if a person dies, but they don’t go to Heaven or hell. They wake up and are alive … but they’re not in their body anymore.”
“Marti, you’re not making sense.”
“Humor me. If that happened, what would you think had occurred?”
Something had gotten knocked loose in her brain. “It couldn’t happen.”
She bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“Marti, what you’re saying is crazy. It would be incredible, amazing.”
“But God can do anything, right?”
“I guess, sure. But things like that don’t happen.”
“Yes, they do. Something crazy, incredible, and amazing happened to me. I don’t know why, but it did.” She took a deep breath, muttering what he thought was, “‘Cause I sure didn’t deserve it.” She spoke louder and enunciated each word, as though he were slow. “I am not Marti. My name is Hallie DiBarto, I’m from California, and I’m married to a man named Jamie.”
She might as well have been speaking a foreign language as far as he was concerned. It had to be delirium. Encouraged by his silence, she continued.
“Two months ago something happened inside my brain, and I died. I think God gave me a second chance here, in this body, this life.” She gestured vaguely around her.
There was no hint of craziness about her, no dilated pupils, but she was sure talking crazy.
“You’ve been through a lot. It’s just the stress—”
She stood and faced him, taking the chains of his swing in her hands. “It is not stress. I know it sounds crazy, it is crazy.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But it’s true.”
“Wait a minute, let me understand this.” He ran his fingers through disheveled hair, trying to make his brain understand. “You’re saying that you’re someone totally different in Marti’s body?” He was trying to put it together, but it sounded so… she had the right word: crazy. “That you died and came back in Marti’s body?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
He stood and paced a few feet before turning to face her. She dropped into her swing again and twisted nervously, watching his reaction.
“If you’re really some woman from California, then where’s Marti?”
She touched the bruises around her neck. “I don’t know. She must be dead.”
“Nolen Rivers swore you were dead when he found you by the side of the road, but—no, it’s crazy. I’m calling Dr. Toby—”
“No!” she said as loud as her hoarse voice could manage. “There’s nothing she can do about it. Do you think I’d make something like this up?”
“The problem is you believe it.”
She looked so fragile, sitting on the swing with desperation in her eyes. Like a battered doll. But it couldn’t be true. Yet, it could explain why she didn’t know she was pregnant. And why she didn’t look at him with annoying adoration the way she had before the attack. He shook his head.
She stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not, I won’t be around much longer anyway.”
He realized then that the woman before him was like a stranger. Those were not Marti’s words. “What do you mean by that? Where are you going?”
“Probably home to California. I can’t stay here. I’m married to someone else, for Pete’s sake, and I don’t even know you.”
Those words made him smile. “You didn’t know me before the attack either, doll.” The endearment had slipped by.
She relaxed her tensed shoulders. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I hardly knew you before we had sex. It just sorta happened, and you said you were on the pill to make your periods lighter. A month later, you were pregnant. That was two weeks ago.”
She seemed to absorb that. “She tricked you into getting her pregnant?”
“You tricked me into getting you pregnant. At least you finally admitted it.”
She let out a sound of exasperation. “I’m not admitting it. As bad as I was, I would never have used a baby to snag a guy.”
“Marti, enough of this bizarre conversation. Let’s go inside.”
After breakfast, Hallie watched him clear away the dishes. “Tell me about Marti. What was she like?”
He bowed his head. “Marti, this conversation is making me crazy.” He looked at her. “You work at the Bad Boys Diner with my sister, Caty. She brought you home for dinner at my Ma’s a few times. You were quiet, nice enough.”
“How’d you, um, get with her?” she asked, interested in knowing everything she could about the girl who used to be Jesse’s wife. “I mean, if you didn’t know her very well.”
Exasperation saturated his expression. “One night after dinner, you looked like you really wanted to talk, and Caty had to take off for class. So we picked up a six-pack of beer and headed down to the river. You were lonely, weren’t making many friends. You got another six-pack; we kept talking. We were both full-out buzzed when you leaned over and kissed me. That’s how it started.”
Hallie rolled her eyes. “Sounds romantic.”
“Drunk sex is never romantic.” He stuck his hands in his jean pockets, tilting his head. “Marti, are you doing this because you want out of the marriage? Because if that’s what you’re after, you don’t have to make up all this crazy stuff—”
“You still think I’m making this up? How can I prove to you that it’s real?”
“Why don’t you call home, this place in California where you supposedly came from? You’ve got to have family there, someone who knows you.”
Home. What was home to her anyway?
She dropped back onto the chair. “Oh, sure, and say, ‘Hey, remember me? I died, but now I’m in some other body in some godforsaken town in Florida.’” She felt a frown stretch her mouth. “Besides, there is no home. My mom’s a bitch; I’ve never even met my father.” Her tears, previously pent-up with disbelief, slipped down her cheeks. “I was a lousy wife.” She sat up, facing Jesse. “Look at me. I’m a brunette, shorter… and pregnant! How can I tell them I’m alive? They’ll think I’m crazy.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No-o-o, why would they think something like that?”
“I thought you would understand.”
He laughed in disbelief. “You thought I would buy a zany story like this just because you say it’s true? I could tell you I’m the ghost of Elvis. Would you believe me?”
“Where’s the phone, oh, king of rock and roll?” she snapped.
Jesse got a phone from the living room and handed it to her. He was waiting for her to make the call. Testing her. If she talked to Jamie, told him who she was, would he believe her or slam the phone down? Would anyone believe her? Another look at Jesse’s smug expression prompted her to start pressing buttons.
First, she called the mansion in California. Solomon, the butler, sleepily informed her that Jamie was at Caterina. Jesse leaned against the doorframe, watching her with curiosity. She punched in the number for Caterina.
“‘Mornin’, Caterina,” a sing-song voice answered.
“Jamie DiBarto’s office, please.”
“Certainly, one moment.”
The accent brought back memories that seemed like days ago.
“Good morning, may I help you?”
Hallie’s heart stopped mid-jump when she realized it wasn’t Jamie’s voice. Her hands didn’t stop shaking, however.
“May I speak to Jamie DiBarto, please?” her hoarse voice whispered. It was Miguel, Jamie’s brother.
“He’s out on the boat all day at Stingray Point. Can I—”
“Stingray Point?”
“Yeah, his wife started swimming with the stingrays on the west end, and now it’s our biggest attraction. If you’re adventurous—”
She choked out the words, “H-his wife?”
“Yeah.” Miguel’s tone lowered. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Heat engulfed her face. Holy Toledo, Jamie had already remarried!
“His w-wife, is her name Renee?”
Miguel laughed. “No, her name is Hallie. Who is this?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper as she tried to catch her breath. “Is Hallie there? Right now?”
“No, she’s out with Jamie.” His voice lost the friendliness. “If you want to leave a message—”
Even using two hands to hold the phone, it slipped out of her grasp.
Jesse lifted it to his ear for a moment but didn’t respond to Miguel’s voice. He hung up, giving Hallie a curious look. “Are you all right?”
She swallowed the huge lump in her throat. “Hallie is there. She’s there with Jamie.”
“So this Hallie didn’t die then. And if she didn’t die, then you can’t be her, right?”
She shook her head, taking deep breaths to calm herself. “I did die. I was Hallie. So how is she still alive? How can that be?”
“Same crazy logic that you’re here when you supposedly died?”
Her eyes widened. “That’s it! Someone got a second chance in my body. With my husband.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But you’re right.” She pulled her hair away from her face in a tight ponytail, staring at the blanket. “I’m not the only one. See, there are more of us getting second chances in other people’s bodies. It’s possible. Does Jamie know?”
“Marti, you’re talking crazy again. So now you’re going to tell me that you’re jealous and want your husband back, right?”
She shook her head, reality sinking to the bottom of her soul. “It doesn’t matter; we were getting divorced anyway. I asked him just before I died.”
“Oh. I’m … sorry?”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m sorry enough for both of us.”
CHAPTER 2
For the rest of the day, Jesse kept busy around the house, staying close in case Marti needed him. What a heavy story she’d laid on him that morning. He couldn’t ignore the possibility, bizarre as it seemed, that it might be true.
Wherever she had called that morning, she’d talked to real people. And knew the numbers by heart. Marti didn’t know anyone in California or some place called Caterina. His curiosity got the better of him, and he figured he deserved some answers. He pressed the redial button on the phone.
“‘Mornin’, Caterina. May I help you?” a woman’s rich voice sang out.
“Where are you located?”
“We be just east of Jamaica, on da Isle of Constantine.”
That threw him. That was nowhere near California. “I see. And is there a Hallie DiBarto there?”
“Yah, ‘dere is. I can put you through to the house, or to her husband, Jamie’s office. She do the books ‘dere. Which you like?”
“Uh, no, don’t put me through to either. But can I ask you another question? Did Hallie… die two months ago? Something to do with her brain?”
“Yes, she be in California when her brain explode, but she come back to life. It was a miracle from God.”
So she was from California.
“This is going to sound a bit crazy, but since the brain thing, is she different?”
“Oh, yah, very different. She and Jamie have da light of love in ‘dere eyes, you know? You don’t want to talk with her?”
“Maybe I already have. Thanks for the information.”
Jesse hung up. Hallie DiBarto did exist, she had suffered some kind of stroke in California, and she did have a husband named Jamie. Jesse sauntered over to the front window. Marti wasn’t sitting on the swing with slouched shoulders anymore. She was… swinging?
Every time she reached the bottom of her arc, her shoulders rose up to give her more height. At first he was glad to see her doing something besides moping. When the swing went so high that there was slack at her upward reach, a pang of fear shot through him that she might jump.
He strode across the leaf-strewn ground toward the swings, camouflaging his worry with a smile. “What’cha doing?”
Marti grinned. “I haven’t done this since I was in grade school.”
She appeared to be enjoying herself. Her face was regaining its normal shape as the swelling went down. On the forward swing, she closed her eyes in the sun. On the backward swing, she got lost in the sun-dappled shade beneath the oak tree’s upper branches. Her hair floated behind her as she came forward, then washed over her shoulders on the way back.
“Who built these swings?” she asked.
“I put them up for my brother Billy’s kids. They haven’t gotten much use since his ex-wife, Abbie, took the boys and left town two years ago.”
“Why did she leave him?”
“He was a jerk. Spent more time with his fishing buddies than her and the boys. Abbie was going nuts, raising two little hellions by herself, so she dropped ‘em off here now and then. Eventually she got a job in Georgia. I get a postcard from ‘em every month.”
He ducked around her and sat on the other swing and soon got in sync with her. “You look like you’re feeling better.”
“I feel a little more in control. I’ve accepted that I’m Marti. Now I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to do.”
A thought pushed itself into his mind: What if she leaves? He would be free again. Not that he’d planned on settling down, but he wouldn’t have to wait until the baby came before getting back into racing.
Another surprising thought crept in, too. That was his baby inside her. His. No matter the inconvenience, that baby was his responsibility. No, he couldn’t let her leave until she had the baby. Then she could do whatever she wanted, and he’d work the rest out somehow.
Hallie sat on the swinging bench out on the front porch that evening. What was she going to do? Getting back to her home turf would help, but she had some planning to do before she could hop on a bus to California. Losing her identity was the hardest part.
She looked down at herself. Well, she had an identity, all right; it just wasn’t hers. Since she was stuck with this one, the first step was to make it her own. I am Marti now. I’m Marti. Marti. And Marti glanced up as Jesse walked out the front door and sat down beside her, making the whole thing creak and swing.
He said, “Chuck called today, wondering when he could expect you back to work. I told him when you were good and ready. Don’t let him push you.”
Work? She remembered mention of a job before but couldn’t remember what it was. Work meant money, and money meant escape. That was the second step to gaining control over he
r life again. She’d already discovered that Marti had only twenty-nine dollars in her savings account and not even one credit card.
“Where did Marti work?”
“She—you work at Bad Boys Diner.”
She wrinkled her nose. “A diner? Don’t tell me I was a cook.”
“No, you’re a waitress.”
“Oh, gawd.”
“It was good enough for you before.”
“Before was a completely different story. I didn’t deliver other people’s food and clean up their dirty dishes.”
“Well, la tee dah. Maybe you should have picked a princess’s body to pop into.”
“I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t even know what had happened until I was already here.” She narrowed her eyes at him, sitting there in the crook of the swing, a smug grin on his face. She didn’t let herself notice how the muscles bulged beneath his white T-shirt with his arms crossed in front of him. Okay, she’d noticed, but she wouldn’t dwell on it. “I think I’m being tested.” She gave him a pointed look. Or punished.
“You’re being tested?” He gave a hearty laugh, making the swing rock. His expression sobered. “If you hadn’t been nearly raped, I’d think this was one of those practical joke shows.”
“It’s not.”
“Okay, miss priss from California. What did you do in this other life? CPA? Attorney?”
“I’m not talking to you about it.” She looked away from him, concentrating on a squirrel hanging upside down to steal from a bird feeder.
“Ah, you might as well tell me. Maybe you’ll have some useful skills.”
Her nose wrinkled. She met those green eyes of his and realized he was still having fun on her. “I, well, I went to college. And I modeled.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You were a model?”
“Don’t look so surprised. I was tall, blonde, and I had nice boobs.”
Jesse regarded her appraisingly. “Nothing wrong with the way you look.”
“But this isn’t me. I wasn’t petite; I was sexy. I even did ads in major magazines. That’s how I met my husband.”