A Grave Conjuring Read online

  While I stared at her, Dad got up and strode over to the liquor cabinet. “Anyone else need a drink?” The clink of the bottle against the glass followed.

  Mom blew her nose and then pocketed the used tissue before taking the brandy which Dad extended to her before he sat back down. “She knows all about you, Keira.”

  “What? How?”

  Mom’s face took on a new shade of guilt and she looked at Dad. “I told her all about you.”

  “When?”

  Mom smiled wanly. “On my seasonal shopping trips with my girlfriends.”

  I closed my eyes and held out my hand. “Wait. You mean you and your bunch of friends who go on shopping trips four times a year? Your ‘Four Seasons’ gang?” Now I was starting to get mad. “You and your girlfriends would go and visit your mother? But you wouldn’t take me?” I stared at her. “You know, that’s pretty heinous.”

  “Take it easy, Keira,” Dad said. He leaned forward on the couch and put a hand on my knee. “There never was a ‘Four Seasons’ club. It was a ruse to enable your mom to get out for a few days every few months without raising your suspicion.”

  Now my anger faded under this new surprise and my mouth hung open. “No ‘Four Seasons’ club?”

  “That’s right.”

  “No shopping trips to Chicago.”

  “That’s right.”

  I looked over at Mom. “You never went to LA and Rodeo Drive.”

  She nodded silently.

  I looked over from my mother to my father and back again dumbly as it sunk in. “For all those years?” I said quietly.

  Mom’s voice was a whisper. “Yes.”

  “You lied to me? FOR ALL THOSE YEARS?” My hands went to my head and I scrunched my hair in my fingers. My mother had led a double life, not even bothering to let me know about my grandmother! And Dad had known all about it! But why? Why keep this from me? I had a right to know.

  “You didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, I would have liked to meet her? Why did she never come here? You said yourself, it’s just north of the border, not half way around the world, for God’s sake!” Dad hadn’t bothered to get me a drink but I needed one. I got up and went over to the cabinet and poured a stiff one.

  “She had her reasons. That’s all I’m going to say. You’ll find out more when you meet her.” My mother took a long swallow of her drink, eyeing me over the rim of her glass. She had collected herself and was once again all business. Every blond-tipped hair on her head was perfectly coiffed. The casual bangles on her wrist tinkled below the cuff of her top. It was all so cut and dried, her pronouncement, just like her everything about her.

  “I’m not sure I’m going.” I wandered back to the chair, being careful to not spill the drink on her gleaming floors. “I mean, she didn’t bother to try to contact me before this and now that she’s ill, she wants to get to know me? That’s cold.”

  “Keira—she’s not well.” Mom’s composure faltered again and her chin quivered. She’s very, very old and she’s asking for you now.” She looked over at Dad and some silent message passed between them and they both nodded and faced me again.

  “So I’m supposed to just pack up and go... to Canada and freeze to death and be her nursemaid?”

  “Keira, it’s June!”

  “It’s Canada!”

  Now they both started laughing at me, and that got me even madder. “I’ve been there! When we went skiing at that Mt. Tremblant place! That’s in Canada! It was freezing! And the snow was like really deep!”

  “That was a ski resort! There’s always deep snow! And it was February!” She wiped her eyes again, but this time from laughing. “The weather’s just like here for the most part.”

  Mom was laughing. At me. Oooh! I folded my arms. “I don’t know anything about taking care of old people. Doesn’t sound like something I’d want to do, taking care of someone I don’t know.”

  “Oh? I would think you’d jump at the chance. This is not only a lifeline for her, but it’s one for you as well.” Mom’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, peering at me.

  “A lifeline? Nursing an old woman who never cared enough to even meet me?” I shook my head and snorted.

  Dad leaned forward and held up his hand. “Hold on, Keira. It’s not that simple. And, have you considered your other options?” His mouth pulled to the side and he looked at me with sad eyes. “There aren’t any. You don’t have a job. Don’t have money. You don’t even have a place to live after the end of the month—which is three days from now.”

  My mouth fell along with my stomach. “What? I can’t stay here until I figure this out?”

  He shook his head and my mother sighed. “Nope. I need the keys to the townhouse back. If you don’t agree to help your grandmother, you’re on your own.”

  This time, it was my eyes that filled with tears. How could they do this to me? My whole world had slipped off its axis.

  FOUR

  THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS PASSED IN A HORRID NIGHTMARE. My apartment was packed up and cleaned out and now consisted of bulging boxes in the basement of the townhouse. ‘The last supper’ was a solemn affair with none of us terribly talkative. I was still fuming over the trip north the next morning and my parents were probably feeling a little guilty about this whole affair. At least I hoped they were.

  It was Mom who drove me to the airport. That was no surprise as Dad didn’t do well with emotional goodbyes. The streets flew by as she handled the Maserati like a race-car driver. It was probably futile but I had to give it one more shot.

  “Mom, I think you’d be better to go see Grandmother and take care of her. I mean, you know her, whereas I’m a total stranger. Considering her age, maybe that would be easier on her. I can look after Dad and put out some resumes to find a job while you’re gone.” We were only five minutes out from LaGuardia and time was slipping away too quickly. I looked out the car window at the city skyline and traffic, already missing them. What would greet me in Kingston? It couldn’t be anything like this.

  She chuckled. “Nice try, Keira, but you’re going. She specifically asked for you.” She flipped on her turn signal and entered the merge lane heading to the airport.

  “But what’s she like? Is she going to be a cranky fusspot who’s in full-blown dementia? God, she’s over ninety. What will we talk about?” I could picture it now, me carrying bedpans and watching her drool soup from the corner of her mouth. Gross.

  She smiled and glanced over at me. “My mother was... I mean has always been one of the smartest women I’ve ever met. She’s sweet but she can be stubborn. I remember once, we were staying at a hotel in Chicago. She took it into her head that she wanted to hear the blues singer playing in a club just down the street. We were late getting there and the place was packed. I wanted to just go back to the room and call it a night. We’d shopped all day and had a big dinner, but she insisted.”

  “What’d you do?” It was so like Mom to want to crash early and read a book with her feet up.

  “The old devil slipped a hundred dollar bill to the bouncer and said she was a friend of the singer, some old blues legend. Then she turned to me and told me to go back to the hotel.” She shook her head and laughed. “She rolled in at around four the next morning. Turned out she did know the singer and they partied until all hours.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “How old was she then?”

  “That was only a few years ago. She was eighty-eight.” Her eyebrows rose but there was a small smile on her lips. She leaned forward and peered out the front window looking for the entrance to the parking lot. “You remind me of her in a lot of ways. I’m glad you’ll finally get to meet her.”

  I turned to look out the window, trying to picture what she’d look like. From the sounds of it, she might not be as dotty as I’d originally thought. Which brought me to the question I hadn’t dared to ask. Even I had my limits being insensitive. How long would I be banished to the hinterland in Canada? Until she died?

&nbs
p; ***

  We didn’t stop at one of the terminals, instead followed a service road around to where hangars were for smaller companies. Dad had made all the arrangements, chartering a plane to take me directly to the airport in Kingston. We entered the office at the front of one and Mom went to talk to the clerk behind the counter while I wandered over to see what plane I’d be on. I hoped it would be the Lear we took a few times, but if it was a Gulfstream I’d suffer through it. After all, the flight would only take a short while. I had checked on Google and Kingston was less than 300 miles away—an hour and a half tops in a jet.

  There was only one plane parked out front and my eyes almost popped out on my cheeks when I saw it. What the hell? It was tiny! No first class, champagne flight for me. If you could call it a plane! It looked more like an oversized mosquito. It not only wasn’t a jet, it only had one engine. I could tell because there was only one propeller sticking out the front.

  Good grief, the boat Cerise’s father had was bigger, and it didn’t have to go up in the air!

  Some random guy around my age came out of an office behind the counter and shook Mom’s hand. She pointed to me at the window and he gave a wave. Uh-oh, from the stripes on the epaulets on his shoulder and the wings pinned to the chest of his blue jacket, I realized this guy was going to be my pilot. He did have a cute smile, but I wanted someone Dad’s age to be behind the wheel or whatever you call it in a plane. I wandered over and Mom introduced me to Roy.

  “How long have you been a pilot?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “Longer than you!”

  “Keira, Roy’s licensed on a lot of different aircraft and he’s very capable,” Mom said, her voice edgy. “Your father specifically requested him.” She tilted her head at me. “Do you think for one second we’d entrust your life in the hands of someone with less than a five-star rating?”

  “Okay, okay!” I said, waving my hands. I looked back at Roy. “You just look... so young.”

  He gave a smiling sigh. “Don’t worry, I get it all the time.” Tilting his head toward Mom, he added, “Your mother’s right though. I am wicked good.” He smiled again. It didn’t give me much comfort, but he seemed okay.

  Mom bent over and gave me a quick goodbye hug. My eyes started tearing up. Sure, I was taking a chartered plane and the pilot was cute, but I was still basically being kicked out of my home. I hugged back stiffly.

  I was still teary-eyed from leaving Mom at the gate, but even through the film on my eyes, the plane still looked miniscule. As we approached it, it seemed to get smaller and smaller somehow. He opened the door on the passenger side, taking my suitcases and setting them into the cramped rear. There were only four seats on this plane, counting the two up front at the controls.

  “You’ll ride up front with me,” Roy said. “It’s the most comfortable seat on the plane.”

  My eyes were saucers as I slipped into the seat and looked around at the instrument panel and gadgets. The pilot and I were going to be shoulder to shoulder.

  “This won’t take long. We caught a break in the traffic. It looks like we’ll be in the air in ten minutes.”

  To the right of me, in the main section of the airport, large airliners were taxiing down the runway lining up for their take-off. At least it was a clear day with blue skies and hardly any clouds to break the vista. I could be thankful for that at least.

  He settled in next to me and placed a set of headphones on his cropped, blond head. His head jerked from side to side and he closed his eyes. “Roxanne, you don’t want to put on the red light.” His singing voice was no threat to whatever band had played that tune!

  I could only stare, openmouthed when he started to laugh.

  “Just kidding. It never gets old for me, seeing the passenger’s face when I do that.” He started flipping buttons and checking instruments.

  “You’re hilarious, all right. I hope you can fly this plane better than you sing.” I tugged the seat belt over my lap and snapped it shut. Dad, I’m going to kill you if I don’t crash first.

  “Relax. I graduated top of flight-training class.” Again his grin, the glare from the pearly whites flashing, “Of course, there was only me in the class but that doesn’t matter, right?”

  Seriously? I was about to take my maiden flight in a small plane and a Jerry Seinfeld wannabe was the pilot? Going to see a grandmother I’d never met in some hick town wasn’t bad enough? This was a nightmare. I shook my head and looked out the side window again.

  “Okaaay. I see this is going to be a loooong flight.” He flipped a few more switches and the motor whined to life.

  The vibration seemed to go right through me. I’d been on commercial flights before but seeing the propeller twirl so close at the front of the plane made my stomach clench. I clasped my hands so tight together on my lap that my knuckles were ivory.

  Beside me, Roy leaned forward and slipped the navy jacket off his shoulders and loosened his tie. There was a small smile on his face and for the first time, he looked professional. We might just make it.

  The plane started forward, every crack and dip in the runway registering in my gut. When I looked out the side window, at the wing of the plane, and saw it fluttering, my breath caught in my throat. The wing was so flimsy. Was it gonna fall off?

  But surely that was normal. I mean, how many planes actually crashed considering how many were in the air? Not that I would know these statistics, considering the only source of news in my world was Facebook and Google.

  He mumbled something into the microphone next to his lips and the plane began to accelerate. I swallowed hard and stared dead ahead, noting the small lights bordering the black tarmac speeding by, faster and faster. I barely dared to breathe as the end of the length of runway closed in. The hum of the tires became softer and then was gone. I looked out and saw the dark surface below me. We were up!

  Roy looked over at me and smiled. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  As I was about to answer, the plane rocked on some turbulence and I clutched the arm rests. “We’re not there yet.” I muttered.

  Higher and higher we went until the clouds drifted by like cigarette smoke. Still the plane seemed to be hitting potholes, bumping and bouncing. What happened to the clear, blue sky? This was more like riding waves in a small boat.

  The breakfast of sausage and eggs churned in my stomach. My mouth watered and I covered it with my hand, staring wildly at Roy.

  He reached down and handed me a wax paper bag. It almost didn’t open fast enough before my entire breakfast was deposited inside. My eyes watered and my mouth tasted horrid. When I glanced over at him, he smiled and shook his head.

  “Don’t worry about that. It happens to the best of us.”

  I tried swallowing and my free hand dug in my purse for a tissue and gum. I wasn’t sure what to do with the soiled and smelly bag. A hot flush crept up my neck. Despite what Roy said, this was embarrassing. “How much longer will this turbulence last?”

  “Another three hours, thereabouts.” He nodded toward the bag. “You might want to keep that handy.” He grinned. “Can you crack the window a little?” Again the chuckle. “Just kidding.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. This was going to be an ordeal.

  FIVE

  I WAS A WET DISH RAG stumbling out of the plane three hours later. My knees were limp noodles, and my hair was plastered on my cheeks soaked with sweat. I wasn’t sure if undergoing a root canal would be worse than riding in that cramped tin can next to Roy whose joke cracking hadn’t let up.

  The fresh air felt good on my skin. The sun was still high in the sky, pouring down like honey as I scurried across the tarmac in Kingston.

  “This is where I take my leave.” Roy nudged me as he set my suitcases on the tiled floor. “The Customs desk is right over there. Good luck to you, Keira.”

  “Thanks Roy.” I managed to make a small smile. “It was a real experience but at least I’m here in one piece.”

  He
put two fingers to his forehead and with a slight nod he saluted me and then sauntered down the corridor. A jaunty whistle of the tune he’d sung just before takeoff followed him. Who the hell was Roxanne?

  “CANADIAN CUSTOMS” emblazoned the high counter just ahead, where a dark-suited, middle-aged woman sat. When I walked over I handed my passport to her and smiled. She glanced at the photo and eyed me suspiciously comparing the two.

  “How long will you be in Canada?” She typed on a keyboard while her eyes flitted to me, daring me to lie.

  “I’m here visiting my grandmother who isn’t well. So, I’m not sure.” Why did I suddenly feel like a criminal, like I was trying to hide something? I hated how these serious bureaucrats could do that to people. Yet if she refused entry into this backwater, would that be so bad?

  “Any drugs, alcohol or firearms in your possession?”

  I chuckled. What would she do if I said yes? For a moment I was tempted. “No, ma’am. Left my forty-five at home, right next to my stash.”

  She leaned forward, placing her meaty elbows on the counter. “You do realize I have the power to do a strip search, don’t you?”

  Oh my God. From the glint in her eye, she’d probably enjoy it! “Sorry. I crack jokes when I’m nervous. Seriously, I haven’t anything but my clothes.”

  She sniffed and lifted her chin. “If you stay any longer than three months, you must check back with Customs.” She handed my passport back and turned to her screen, dismissing me.

  When I left her station and picked up my bags from the scanning machine, an elderly man who’d been sitting on a bench strode forward. His gaze was steady from an ancient-lined face as he extended his hand to take mine.

  “Keira?”

  I nodded and felt his hand close over mine, noting the dry parchment of his grip.

  “I’m Lawrence Brady. Your grandmother sent me to pick you up.” He towered over me even though his shoulders were stooped with age. There were laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and his nose was slightly curved, like a hawk’s. There was the flash of a smile before he reached and grabbed my suitcase.