“Is everything okay?” I asked.
Her voice shook: “Someone doesn’t like it when you wear that dress. Someone doesn’t like it when you wear that heart.”
“I’m taking off the dress,” I told her, “but not the heart.”
“Someone will be very angry.”
“Do you mean my mother?” I wondered if “Sondra’s” feelings were actually a projection of Nora’s.
“I won’t tell,” she whispered.
“Won’t tell what?” I asked loudly, and she drew back as if I’d threatened her.
“Don’t tell!” she exclaimed. “Don’t even think the words!”
She lifted her hands and held the sides of her head.
“Thinking can make it happen,” she moaned, then hurried down the steps.
I stared after her, trying to understand the darkness inside her. I’d lock my door again tonight.
Aunt Jule had laughed about the shoes stuck in the driveway and told me to leave them and trash them tomorrow. I had dumped my muddy stockings in the bedroom wastebasket and hung up the dress to dry. A long hot shower had washed away the last bits of mud and mascara, but not my apprehensiveness toward Nora.
I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t simply afraid for her but of her. The fact that Aunt Jule and Nick saw nothing in her to fear, and even Holly didn’t think her sister would harm others, made me feel alone. I worried that my own mind was playing tricks on me — perhaps I had never heard a voice like my mother’s.
I tried to read myself to sleep, but it was useless. When the bedroom lights of Aunt Jule and Nora finally went off, I pulled on shorts beneath my nightshirt and went downstairs again. On the garden side of the house, I restlessly walked the porch.
My thoughts shifted to Nick. I couldn’t believe I had kissed him, not just with my lips but my heart. Until now, it had been easy to blame my mother for her screwed-up life, labeling her as one of those girls who couldn’t live without a guy, who set herself up for disaster. But here I was, falling fast.
And what about Holly? I had told myself that she wasn’t really drawn to Nick-she wasn’t hooked on him. But by nature Holly was cool and collected, so there was no way to tell. It didn’t matter. Nick had clearly explained his dating policy: one girl after the next. After the prom he’d be working on whoever stood in line behind Holly and me. The red shoes seemed symbolic — abandoned in the mud.
I gazed out in their direction. The rain had stopped and the moon was peeking through quick-moving clouds, splashing silver on the soaked gardens and long path. What if Holly came home with Nick, found the shoes, and dumped them in the trash?
I had to have them.
I trudged through the mud, feeling foolish. The ruined shoes were useless — all I could do was display them next to my softball trophies. But I had to have them.
When I returned to the house, my feet looked as if I’d put on brown moccasins. I set down the high heels and headed for the greenhouse to fetch a bucket of water for dipping. I was just beyond the knot garden when I thought I heard a door open on the upper porch. Turning toward the house, I surveyed it.
“Hello,” I called softly.
No one answered, but I saw the slight movement in the shadows. If it were Aunt Jule, she would have replied. It had to be Nora, I thought, and continued on, determined not to be cowed by her.
The air was still and heavy, as water-saturated as the ground. It was the kind of humid Shore night I remembered as a child, when a light left on became a halo of mist and insects. When I entered the greenhouse, I kept the lights off so I wouldn’t be swarmed.
In the intermittent moonlight the glass house looked surreal. Plants, looming tall in the darkness, suddenly caught the light and seemed to bristle and straighten as I came near. Spider plants drooped long tongues over the edges of hanging pots. Short, thick plants reached out, then curled back on themselves with crooked stems.
Moonlit raindrops and condensation kept me from seeing beyond the glass panes. As I moved among rows of plants, I couldn’t get over the feeling that someone was outside watching me.
Something brushed my arm and I jumped. Just a branch, Lauren, I chided myself. Watch where you’re going and stop imagining things.
Still, the skin on my arms prickled as I moved toward the back of the greenhouse searching for a bucket. There was something in here with me — I could feel it — some disturbance in the air. There was no rational way to explain the sensation; the air didn’t move, but something unseen moved through it. I walked in the center of the main aisle and kept my arms close against my sides, reluctant to touch any of the plants.
Along the back wall was a bucket and six pots of vines, young plants that Nora was training on two-foot trellises. I leaned over to pick up the bucket. Something rustled. I glanced left, then right, and told myself I was acting paranoid.
I heard it again, soft but distinct, like leaves tussling in a breeze, though the air was as motionless as before. My forehead felt damp. A trickle of sweat ran down my neck.
I quickly picked up the bucket, then noticed the twisted shape of the vine growing next to it. The vine wasn’t just twined around the trellis, but knotted to it, its delicate tendrils tied in minuscule knots. I shivered, and with my free hand touched my necklace, running my finger along its smooth chain. Last night it had borne the same kind of knots. I looked at the other young vines. They were all knotted, some of their roots pulled up as if the force used to tie them had yanked them from the soil.
Clutching the steel handle of the bucket, I walked quickly toward the greenhouse sink, wanting to get the water and get out of there. But when I reached for the faucet, I stopped.
On the shelf above the sink sat a jade plant, its fleshy almond-shaped leaves glimmering in the moonlight. It moved. I took a step back, staring at it, knowing it was impossible, but certain I had seen it. The branches had moved, as if invisible fingers had riffled them.
I was going crazy. I was seeing what my mother had seen before she died, things knotting, things moving. “There’s no hand touching them, baby. They move by themselves.”
Maybe Aunt Jule was right: I was obsessed with my mother, so much so that I was imagining her experiences.
I fought the panic rising in me and reached for the faucet again, turning the handle hard. When the bucket was half full, I shut off the stream.
I thought I felt a trickle on my neck-spray from the faucet or my own sweat. Reaching up to wipe it, I touched dry skin and my necklace. It wasn’t water, but the chain creeping along my neck. I looked down at the silver heart, rising like a slow tide, moving closer and closer to my throat. I dropped the bucket and spun around, as if to catch someone pulling the necklace, but no one was there. I clawed at the chain, grabbing it before it could choke me, and yanked down. It snapped. Holding it tightly in my fist, I ran.
When I was outside the greenhouse, nearly at the porch, I opened my fingers and gazed down at the chain. The end of it was tied in a tiny knot.
I slept little that night. Whenever I did drift off, I slipped into dreams of swimming through dark water with ropelike plants winding around my arms and legs. The next morning, when I was fully awake, I thought I might have dreamed the events in the greenhouse. Then I found my chain on the bureau, broken and knotted at one end.
I had no idea how to account for what I had experienced last night. I didn’t want to think that Nora’s distorted perception of the world was infecting me, making me see things that weren’t real. But I had never believed in ghosts or other paranormal phenomena. It was terrifying to think that a power I didn’t understand was present when Nora was. How could I defend myself against something I couldn’t see?
When I got down to the kitchen, Holly was sitting at the table writing up another of her lists, looking chipper as usual despite her late night. Her steadiness had a calming effect on me. I poured a glass of juice and sat down across from her.
“Listen, Holly, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you last night when—” She held up a hand. “Hey, cut it out. We both know Jason was acting like a jerk. He asked for it and you gave it to him.”
I relaxed. “I wasn’t sure you’d see it that way.”
“Are you kidding? I wish I had a couple girlfriends like you. You’re sweet to a point,” she said, smiling, “but then you deliver the news straight.”
I was surprised and pleased.
“By the way, I put your purse on the hall table. You left it at the Queen.”
“Thanks. I forgot all about it.” I took a long drink of juice.
“So what can I do for the party? Clean? Pick up groceries?”
“I’d love it if you’d get the party platters from Dee’s. They’ll be ready at two.”
“Okay. How about before that?”