the only one that will know anything of the events of the past month. Everyone else will be unaware that anything has changed."
The melancholy look still sat squarely on Roland's handsome face. Grace tried one more time to invade his thoughts, but it was still no use. He simply looked directly into her eyes.
"We are done here, Grace."
With that final statement, Roland Stillson disappeared in a puff of smoke. Grace looked around the room that had been filled with elegant furnishings and velvet wall coverings only moments before. It was now nothing more than an empty building filled with dust and remnants of past tenants. The desk dematerialized and the ornate chair she sat in was suddenly nothing more than a folding metal seat.
Grace unceremoniously rose from her rusting seat and walked out the door of the building, sidestepping old soda cans, empty cigarette packs and crumpled newspapers. The sign outside that read "For Lease" sat askew in the dusty front window, hanging there like a condemned criminal at the end of an executioner's rope. She hurried to her car, eager to be away from the dilapidated building and the ghosts that lay within.
Driving back to the house where her father sat alone during the day, missing his wife, she thought about the strange feeling she had encountered when trying to read Roland's mind. The expression of sorrow that overtook his face when she agreed to sign the contract weighed on her mind as well. This mystery was doing nothing but giving her a headache and a heavy heart. She continued the drive and did her best to keep her mind completely clear. She turned on the radio and listened as Aerosmith instructed her to walk this way .
The driveway of David's house appeared in front of her car as it had a million times before. She pulled in and almost forgot to put her foot on the brake as she approached the house.
There in the front garden was a woman with long blond, if slightly graying, hair. The lady was on her knees in front of the bed of pansies that had been planted in the early spring, digging in the dirt and pulling stray weeds.
Grace did manage to stop the car and stepped out, not exactly sure what to expect. She walked over to the flowerbed, and the woman turned around and flashed a bright, familiar smile.
"Hey there, Munchkin. How was your appointment?"
"Mom?" Grace stumbled over to Kayla in a daze.
Kayla quickly rose to her feet, dropping her trowel, and rushed over to where Grace stood dumbfounded.
"Honey, what is it? Are you okay?"
Grace was unable to respond. She moved her mouth as if to speak, but nothing would come out. Standing there like a zombie awaiting a head shot, she continued to work her mouth back and forth to no avail.
Kayla reached out again and put her arm around Grace's shoulder as if to steady her.
"David, Harold! Something is wrong with Grace. Come out here, quick!"
As Grace felt her mother's arm around her and smelled the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with the earthy smell of soil, she burst into tears and grabbed tightly to the recently dead woman.
"Oh Mama, is it really you?"
"Of course it's me, Munchkin. Who else would it be?"
"I just⦠I'm so glad to see you," Grace stammered through her sobs.
"Are you all right, sweetie?" Kayla looked her directly in the eyes and Grace could see that she was frightened and confused.
"I'm fine. Nothing is wrong, and the appointment went great. It must be hormones or something."
Grace smiled, overtaken by a feeling of pure joy. She pulled away from Kayla, reluctantly, and started toward the front door holding her mom's dirt covered hand.
David and Harold rushed out of the house and down the front steps to where the two women stood.
"Honey, are you okay? What's wrong? Is the baby okay? What's wrong?" Harold looked as though he was about to cry as well. The terror on his face mirrored the fear in David's eyes.
"She's fine. I'm so sorry I scared you; it was just hormones." Kayla smiled at the men as