Until I Die Again [On The Way To Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) Read online

  Hallie clenched her hands, but he could see that they trembled. “I was not sneaking around. I didn’t invite him here.” Her voice sounded close to hysteria, but she kept it under control with tight lips.

  “So you just happened to run into him in our yard? One of those, ‘I was in the neighborhood’ things, maybe? In the neighborhood miles from his home, after scaling a cement wall…”

  “Jamie, stop.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I know you won’t believe anything I say, so I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. I need to be alone.” With eyes red and watery, she ran upstairs and closed the bedroom door behind her with something close to a slam.

  Jamie didn’t want her to get away with it. Actually, he was quite pleased with the fact that he managed to find out when she was sneaking around with Mick. She used to become enraged, deny it until faced with the indisputable facts. This time she was different—rattled almost. Her hands had trembled, but he couldn’t stop himself once he’d started. Each cold word pushed her farther away from him. But something made him madder than catching her with Mick from his vantage point on the balcony. He turned and slammed his fist against the wall. It still hurt, damn her. Damn himself, too.

  Theresa appeared from around the corner, a questioning look on her face. “What was that noise?”

  She knew his manner of composing himself and hiding his emotions, but he tried anyway. “Nothing. Nothing important, anyway.”

  “James Angelo DiBarto, don’t lie to your mother.”

  He hated when she addressed him by his full name. It made him feel like a little boy caught lying about sneaking out of the house with his brother again. Miguel had enjoyed getting him into trouble; probably to make up for feeling as if Jamie was the favored son.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Does that suit you better?”

  Theresa placed her hands on ample hips. “It’s that wife of yours, isn’t it? Jamie, for the life of me I don’t understand why… okay, I do know why you brought her here, so much like your father I could tie you to a stake. Duty, honor, and you don’t see what she’s doing to you, been doing to you for years.”

  He took a deep breath, not wanting to get into this conversation again. “She’s only been a wench for the last year of our marriage. The first two were fine.” He shook his head, flinging the thought like a dog shakes water from its fur. “I couldn’t dump her into Mick’s care when she didn’t remember him. Now that she does—”

  “AAh, she was sneaking around again, wasn’t she?”

  Jamie regretted the words the instant they had left his mouth. “She doesn’t have to sneak around anymore. In any case, I’m not going to kick her out of this house when I brought her here to recuperate. I’ve given her a chance to leave without any bad feelings, and for some reason she chooses to stay. In two weeks she’ll be out of here and out of our lives forever, so just drop whatever it is you’re going to lecture me about and be polite until then.” Then he added with a smile, “Please.”

  Theresa touched his arm. “You’re too nice to her. She doesn’t deserve it.” Her expression grew alarmed. “You’re not thinking of giving her a second chance, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Her features relaxed. “And what about this Renee woman? Miguel tells me she’s head over heels in love with you. Which, frankly, is quite obvious by the number of times she’s called since you’ve been here.”

  He twisted his mouth in thought. “I don’t know. Right now, she’s just a friend. Maybe when my life is back in order, I’ll explore the possibilities.”

  Theresa’s face glowed. “I think you should. You’ll bring her here to meet me soon?”

  Her happiness at his step back into life touched him. He leaned down to plant a kiss on her soft cheek, “When the situation warrants it.”

  He watched his mother return to her mahogany roll-top desk from which she continued management of his late father’s investments. His shrewd investments gave them a life his salary as a vineyard worker could never have done, in California or back in Italy when Jamie was a boy. Armed with a thousand dollars and an uncanny feel for the stock market, his father had made them comfortably wealthy by the time Jamie was thirteen. Then he kept going, kept taking risks, and making more money.

  More than their growing wealth and position, Jamie remembered the tension that grew between his parents. The arguments he’d overhead when Theresa tried to drag his father away from that same desk stacked with company profiles. She called it an obsession with money; he called it taking care of his family.

  His mother had been happy with what they had in the early days—long days of work that made supper an occasion for togetherness. The money wasn’t worth his alienation from the family. Later his father made concessions, and they approached being the close-knit family they had been before. Then he died of a heart attack.

  Jamie hadn’t inherited that instinct for investing, although his brother Miguel had touches of it from time to time. His own lack of talent for the market didn’t bother Jamie. He had seen what it did to his family, and ultimately to his father after years of taking risks and worrying about the consequences. He had decided he didn’t want to put his own family through that. He needn’t have worried. Hallie’s professingsclaim to want children someday had turned into excuses and finally flat-out refusals to ever make herself fat and ugly.

  That didn’t matter now. He and Hallie were over, finito. Then he realized he had been walking upstairs. What brought him back to present was the sound of her crying. Actually, it was more like bawling. He walked to her door, not because of a need to comfort her, he assured himself. More out of curiosity. Never had he heard her cry as she was now. Not that pretentious crying she summoned to get her way or get out of trouble. This was out and out sobbing her guts out crying. He strained to hear the words she gasped out between sobs.

  “I—I w-want to g-go home! I w-want my mom. And d-dad. And Phoenix, T-tubby and Shelby.”

  Jamie frowned. She had never displayed a need for her parents. Especially her dad, who was virtually non-existent. And who the heck were Tubby and Shelby? And why did she want to go to Phoenix? It sounded as though someone else were in there and not Hallie.

  Then something triggered inside his mind. Her mother. Damn. She had called that morning while Hallie was still asleep. He glanced at his watch. And was coming to pick her up in an hour. He had meant to tell her when he saw her up on the balcony, but the conversation had taken a turn for the worse, and he’d forgotten. The same reason he’d forgotten again when she returned from her rendezvous with Mick. He certainly didn’t want her mother to find Hallie bawling, or even looking as if she had been. Velvet would rant and rave about his neglect, and he’d have to tell her where to shove her phony motherly concern.

  He was going to have to bust in on her crying session. When he knocked on the door, her crying stopped.

  “Go ‘way.” a muffled voice called out.

  He pushed the door open a few inches. She was sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up, her face buried in the pillow sandwiched between. Something about her posture reminded him of a little girl lost in despair. She didn’t look up at him. He leaned against the doorframe, trying to look more at ease than he felt.

  “Surely what I said didn’t upset you that much.”

  “Go away!” her muffled voice said again. “You would never understand.”

  He walked closer and wrapped his arm around one of the posts on the bed—the bed they used to share on their visits to Los Almeda.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She lifted a red, tear-stained face. “No. Your duties as my husband are fulfilled. You’re dismissed.”

  “I see.” Now he was curious. Did Mick dump her? “I didn’t want to interrupt you, but I forgot to tell you that your mother called this morning. She’s going to pick you up in about an hour. You’ll be staying with her for dinner.”

  He wasn’t expecting the panicked look t
hat emerged on Hallie’s face. She wiped away the tears and looked at him in an almost pleading way.

  “Just me?”

  It took him a minute to figure out what she was getting at. “Yes, just you. Did your mother ever include me in?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered, and he could almost believe she didn’t.

  “Hallie, your mother and I have a patent disregard for each other. In any case, there’s no need for me to accompany you. Maybe you should invite Mick.”

  He had succeeded in keeping his tone light, but she still shot him an angry look.

  He held out a hand in defense. “Listen, you’re the one who spent two weeks out of every two months visiting Joya in L.A. and playing single. You’re the one who planned to fly away to France with Mick, and you’re the one who instigated our divorce, which was the smartest thing you ever did. All I’m suggesting is that since he is the one you chose to spend your life with, or at least ‘til boredom do you part, he should be the one to accompany you to your mother’s for dinner.”

  She looked pitiful, staring up at him with a parade of feelings crossing her features. Anger, frustration, and something else he couldn’t pinpoint. He moved toward the door.

  “Hallie, I know you feel in limbo now. Soon you’re going to remember how your life was, and why you did the things you did. I can’t help you with that because I didn’t know you the last year we were married. I don’t know why you did what you did.” He couldn’t keep the sigh from his voice. “All I know is that it’s been a long year, and I want it over.” Then he turned and closed the door behind him.

  Chris sat there long after Jamie left, remembering the look on his face. Hallie had hurt her husband deeply. It sounded as if her affair with Mick had been the final straw. Yet, though he said he wanted it to be over, there lingered a trace of pain and regret in those frosty blue eyes. He had loved Hallie, and she had loved him too, if Chris had read their expressions right on the wedding video. What had torn them apart?

  How embarrassing, Jamie hearing her sobbing. Then he had the nerve to come in to assure himself that something he said hadn’t upset her. She smiled, but it vanished as quickly as it had come. He hadn’t cared what she was crying about, just wanted to tell her the terrible news about her mother coming. Not that she would have confided in him anyway, with the Sharp Rehabilitation Center lurking in the corner of her mind. Still, it would have been nice if he had tried to console her, even just a little.

  Pulling herself up, she lumbered to the bathroom and leaned on the long marble vanity. It was strange to see that beautiful face marred with red tear tracks and puffy eyes. When she didn’t have physical proof in front of her, she imagined looking like her old self.

  After splashing cold water on her face, she looked up and put on a resolve that didn’t feel as solid as it appeared. “I am Hallie now,” she whispered to the mirror. “Hi, I’m Hallie DiBarto. This is who I am now, not Chris Copestakes. This is my life.”

  She envisioned herself like a butterfly emerging from the cocoon, previously a fuzzy brown worm. Hallie walked away from the mirror, feeling the tiniest bit more in control of her life.

  That feeling of control slipped through her fingers as Jamie rapped on the bedroom door. A tightening sensation clutched her insides when he opened the door partway and peered inside.

  “Your mother’s here. She’s waiting for you in the living room.”

  Hallie tried to quell the urge to beg him to accompany her. Jamie in and of himself wasn’t particularly comforting. Still, the thought of having him with her somehow made her feel better, and the knowledge that it wasn’t going to happen left her spirit overcast.

  She slowly rose from the bed and moved toward the door, finding it difficult to maneuver in the suffocating blue jeans she’d found. His eyes glanced downward before looking at her face.

  “It’s strange to see you without all your makeup on,” he said, though she couldn’t tell how he meant it.

  “Oh. I just didn’t feel like going through the routine. Actually, she hadn’t yet done the routine, and wearing a lot of makeup wasn’t the norm for her. Something else to learn.

  As she followed Jamie down the stairway, a small hope harbored in her heart that he was indeed planning to go with her. When he reached the ground floor, however, he turned.

  “Ciao. Have fun.” Then he disappeared around the back of the staircase and into the confines of the house.

  “Yeah, thanks a lot,” she muttered, though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

  “Hallie, honey!” Velvet yelled when she opened the door to the living room. Then Velvet disdainfully looked around, putting her hands on wide hips. “That damn butler always makes me feel like some kinda lowlife every time I come here. He escorts me into this room and closes the door behind him like I might escape.” Then her face brightened again, helped by the vivid red lipstick and scarlet rouge. “You’re looking good, honey, real good. How do you feel?”

  Hallie shrugged. “All right, I guess.”

  “Good. Let’s get out of here before they accuse me of stealing something.”

  Velvet steered her out of the room by her arm, then pointedly ignored Solomon as he opened the front door for them. Hallie smiled at him, but his face remained stern. She decided then that she would make up for the old Hallie’s misdeeds toward the man.

  The pink paint on the 1976 Thunderbird was dirty, looking like the color of vomit. Velvet strutted to it as one would to a chauffeur-driven limousine. Hallie tugged on the loose door handle, and Velvet said, “You got to open it from the inside. Here, I’ll get it.” When she leaned over to pull the handle, Hallie thought the woman’s chest was going to pop right out of her flowery blouse.

  Once they reached the end of the driveway, Velvet turned to her with a sigh. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

  The question took Hallie by surprise, and all she could do was shake her head. The hand Velvet placed on Hallie’s thigh reminded her of a hooker’s, with long, red talons and glittery rings that only boasted illusionary diamonds and worn-out gold.

  “I might as well tell you, hon. We never did get along too good.” Velvet laughed uneasily. “I always thought it was because we were too much alike.” She shook her head. “But you never bought that. Maybe we can make a fresh start on things. You know, be like a real mother and daughter.”

  Hallie could only smile weakly, and that made Velvet grin more, then pull out onto the highway. Hallie could never picture this woman as her mother, never ever. Her real mother looked like a mother. And acted like one. She wore her brown, curly hair short and lady-like, dressed in casual, domestic clothing and never let any of her girls leave the house without making peace with them. In Janet’s eyes, there wasn’t room for dissention in the ranks, and never did a harsh word fly without being immediately followed by an apology.

  “Are you feeling all right, hon?” Velvet’s sandpapery voice sheared into her thoughts.

  Hallie replaced her homesick frown with a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to remember things, that’s all.”

  Every time she thought about her past life, that intangible, disturbing feeling crept in to shadow her memories. She wondered what Alan was doing now, and if he missed her. In some ways he reminded her of Jamie, with his brooding ways and mood swings. Jamie, however, seemed to have more reason behind his.

  “Aaaaahhhh!” Hallie’s thoughts were smashed as she looked up to see a truck cutting a wide turn toward their car. The scream had escaped her lips before she could hold it back, and Velvet slammed on the brakes and looked at her as if she were mad.

  With her hand to her chest, she said, “My goodness, girl! You nearly scared the living daylights out of me. That truck had plenty of room.”

  Hallie started shaking, and her face felt cold and clammy. She didn’t know what had triggered her overreaction, but memories of her nightmare bridges flashed in her mind, leaving the same trail of fear they left through the night.

  “I g
uess it just looked closer. I’m sorry.”

  Velvet glanced over at her before pulling back onto the highway. She seemed to drive with special care after that. Hallie stared out the window for a while, concentrating on the scenery and not her trembling hands. Once she was calm again, she studied the clutter on the floor of the car for clues about the woman she would now call mother. Two combs and a brush, Snickers wrappers, a discarded tube of lipstick. Not much to go on.

  They headed north of Escondido, then west toward the Pacific. The sun glistened across a cloudless sky, and Hallie vaguely thought of Jamie’s eyes. Blue like a sunlit sky. Cold as snow. Velvet turned up the radio and bounced around like a teenager to a rap song. At that moment, Hallie felt older than her mother. At least inside.

  They slowly cruised by bikini shops, sidewalk surfboard sales and beachside bars. Velvet turned down the radio, slipped on purple-rimmed sunglasses and turned to Hallie.

  “Does it bring anything back?”

  Hallie looked around, pretending an effort to dislodge memories. In fact, it was completely foreign to her. Surfboards attached to car rooftops, sun-bleached blondes in sandals, groups of teenagers leaning against souped-up cars. It was small town, but nothing like Maven, Colorado. Hallie shook her head when she realized Velvet was waiting for an answer.

  “I thought I’d take you around to some of your old haunts, you know, try to jar some memories. Hey, how about Kent and Steve? Do they stir anything up?”

  Hallie ignored Velvet’s wiggling eyebrow and waved back at two incredibly beachy looking guys. They looked as if they had walked right out of Beverly Hills 90210. Velvet cruised by them without stopping, thank God.

  “Did I go out with one of them?” Hallie asked.

  Velvet snorted. “You went out with both of them. At the same time! Deny it all you want, hon, but you’re just like your mama. It was two years before they talked to each other after that.”