with?” I ask, totally amused.
“Why?” she asks a bit defensively.
“He’s not going to believe you’d send that kind of a message.”
“You’re right,” she replies, biting her lower lip. “I need to give you some information that only he and I would know—something you didn’t even witness on your trip with me. Let me think.”
She’s quiet for a couple of moments and then her eyes light up and I know she’s got it. “Tell him midnight blue .”
“Midnight blue?” I repeat puzzled. “What’s midnight blue?”
She grins ear to ear and giggles softly. “The first time we ever met, and I won’t share the particulars with you, he told me that I had the most exquisite midnight blue eyes he’d ever seen. He said they were so dark, he thought they were dark brown or black. He said a man could lose himself in those pools of midnight blue.”
Okay. Now that’s pure cheesiness, but sweet too.
“It is not,” she replies, her tone slightly irritated. “It’s way romantic.”
Rewind—what?
“Uh, Ma? I didn’t say anything.”
“I can read what you’re thinking , Parrish!”
Lovely.
“Yes. Quite handy,” she replies with an angelic smile.
“Okay, Ma. You’ve got it. I will do as instructed. I personally feel invested in this. My God, the seventies were...something else.”
“Tell me about it,” she replies. “Though I was much younger than Cece at the time,” she reminds me. “So, okay, I’m going to take off, but I’ll be back to check in. Oh, and Parrish?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you tell Dominic something else?”
“Sure.”
“Tell him that I love him up to Heaven and back.”
“I will, Ma.”
She fades from my dream, but I hear her sing-song voice echoing as she does, “Mommy loves you!”
I feel a tear escape while I sleep and that’s a first for me. Now, if I can just get back to my previous dream...
Chapter 21
Two days later…
So, I’ve had a discussion with Dad and passed along Ma’s message, which, just as predicted, he was dubious about. And then I throw the midnight blue gem in at which time, he does indeed chillax , and no further objections are given to my going back to Cece’s grave.
Alone.
I also pass along her declaration of love for him, from Heaven and back and, I swear, his eyes seem to actually sparkle. It’s a nice look on him. One that I haven’t seen very often but, then again, I’ve only been hanging out with him for a couple of weeks now.
So, I’m in Sheila’s Toyota, headed back to the cemetery in Wyoming where hopefully, I can wrap this trip to the 70’s up and get the final pieces of the puzzle so I can see where they fit in current time.
It’s frigidly cold out, which is typical for Wyoming…and Chicago and even New York this time of year. I’ve bundled up better today. Dad brought home a new ski jacket from the Pro Shop, along with a knit ski hat, gloves and boots. All for me. He insisted, who am I to argue with authority?
I reach the cemetery a little past noon. I stop first at the office and request a copy of Cecily’s death certificate. The lady eyes me suspiciously, but finally makes a copy of it and charges me a dollar.
It doesn’t give much detail. The box is checked next to ‘Post-mortem Toxicology, but unchecked next to ‘Full Autopsy.’ The cause of death is listed as blunt force trauma to the head, as a result of an automobile accident; decedent’s blood toxicology positive for barbiturates.
Hell to the no.
Cece owes me an explanation! I drive over to her section. Thankfully, no one else is here. I’m hopeful that Dad didn’t scare her off for good. There’s a lot more information I need, though I’m going to have a word with her about cutting to the chase.
I’m not sure why she’s taken me back so far down memory lane, unless, in some way, she needs me to feel the way she felt: confused, insecure, vulnerable, distrustful, indecisive and reckless to a point. As if that’s an excuse for getting
“Why?” she asks a bit defensively.
“He’s not going to believe you’d send that kind of a message.”
“You’re right,” she replies, biting her lower lip. “I need to give you some information that only he and I would know—something you didn’t even witness on your trip with me. Let me think.”
She’s quiet for a couple of moments and then her eyes light up and I know she’s got it. “Tell him midnight blue .”
“Midnight blue?” I repeat puzzled. “What’s midnight blue?”
She grins ear to ear and giggles softly. “The first time we ever met, and I won’t share the particulars with you, he told me that I had the most exquisite midnight blue eyes he’d ever seen. He said they were so dark, he thought they were dark brown or black. He said a man could lose himself in those pools of midnight blue.”
Okay. Now that’s pure cheesiness, but sweet too.
“It is not,” she replies, her tone slightly irritated. “It’s way romantic.”
Rewind—what?
“Uh, Ma? I didn’t say anything.”
“I can read what you’re thinking , Parrish!”
Lovely.
“Yes. Quite handy,” she replies with an angelic smile.
“Okay, Ma. You’ve got it. I will do as instructed. I personally feel invested in this. My God, the seventies were...something else.”
“Tell me about it,” she replies. “Though I was much younger than Cece at the time,” she reminds me. “So, okay, I’m going to take off, but I’ll be back to check in. Oh, and Parrish?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you tell Dominic something else?”
“Sure.”
“Tell him that I love him up to Heaven and back.”
“I will, Ma.”
She fades from my dream, but I hear her sing-song voice echoing as she does, “Mommy loves you!”
I feel a tear escape while I sleep and that’s a first for me. Now, if I can just get back to my previous dream...
Chapter 21
Two days later…
So, I’ve had a discussion with Dad and passed along Ma’s message, which, just as predicted, he was dubious about. And then I throw the midnight blue gem in at which time, he does indeed chillax , and no further objections are given to my going back to Cece’s grave.
Alone.
I also pass along her declaration of love for him, from Heaven and back and, I swear, his eyes seem to actually sparkle. It’s a nice look on him. One that I haven’t seen very often but, then again, I’ve only been hanging out with him for a couple of weeks now.
So, I’m in Sheila’s Toyota, headed back to the cemetery in Wyoming where hopefully, I can wrap this trip to the 70’s up and get the final pieces of the puzzle so I can see where they fit in current time.
It’s frigidly cold out, which is typical for Wyoming…and Chicago and even New York this time of year. I’ve bundled up better today. Dad brought home a new ski jacket from the Pro Shop, along with a knit ski hat, gloves and boots. All for me. He insisted, who am I to argue with authority?
I reach the cemetery a little past noon. I stop first at the office and request a copy of Cecily’s death certificate. The lady eyes me suspiciously, but finally makes a copy of it and charges me a dollar.
It doesn’t give much detail. The box is checked next to ‘Post-mortem Toxicology, but unchecked next to ‘Full Autopsy.’ The cause of death is listed as blunt force trauma to the head, as a result of an automobile accident; decedent’s blood toxicology positive for barbiturates.
Hell to the no.
Cece owes me an explanation! I drive over to her section. Thankfully, no one else is here. I’m hopeful that Dad didn’t scare her off for good. There’s a lot more information I need, though I’m going to have a word with her about cutting to the chase.
I’m not sure why she’s taken me back so far down memory lane, unless, in some way, she needs me to feel the way she felt: confused, insecure, vulnerable, distrustful, indecisive and reckless to a point. As if that’s an excuse for getting
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