Chapter Three

 

"It is situations such as this that make me prefer to work with men. At least men do not faint or grow hysterical.' A male voice intruded on Libby's fuzzy world. "Well, there was that time with Henry VIII, but he was always a trial. The man refused to understand the problem was with him, not with his wives."

"I never get hysterical," Libby said in a weak voice. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at Matthias. "And what is this about you knowing Henry VIII? How old are you?"

"Too old for you to figure out," he said smoothly. "Do you feel better now or do you require a glass of water?"

Libby sat up and raised a restraining hand.

"No, I'm fine." She paused. "I think." She pressed her fingers against her forehead. She was surprised the skin didn't bum under her touch. She took several deep breaths and discovered her stomach wasn't going to go into upheaval the way she feared it would. She turned her head so she could see Matthias better. "You really knew Henry VllI?"

He rolled his eyes. "It was not one of my better assignments. All the man ever cared about was consuming as much food as he could in one sitting and finding himself a new wife."

The teacher in Libby was fascinated. For a moment she wasn't asking herself the logical question of how the man in front of her could have existed for as many centuries as he implied he had.

"Who else did you meet?" she asked.

He waved his hand in dismissal. "None of my assignments pertain to this case. What matters is you. Now, are you calm enough to listen to me? Or are you going to dissolve in more histrionics?"

Her expression was wary as she nodded. Matthias took the chair across from her. As he reached out his hand toward the table beside him, a glass of red wine appeared. He picked it up by its stem, then paused as good manners intruded.

"I apologize for my thoughtlessness. Would you care for some wine?"

She shook her head, amazed. "I think I would be better off with all my wits about me."

He nodded. "Perhaps that would be best." He sipped his wine and studied her with an air of contemplation. "It is natural that you would grieve for your daughter. After all, you had planned for her all your life, hadn't you? When you were seven you had a baby doll you loved to distraction and you announced she looked just like your first child would. You named her Sara. You also assumed you would marry Tyler Barnes when you grew up."

"How did you know all this?" Libby asked in a hushed voice, stunned by his knowledge,

"I read your file before I arrived here," he stated as if it were a given. "I know your older brother, Mike, pushed you off your bicycle when you were eight and your arm was broken as a result. Once your arm healed, you got even with him by covering his school project with superglue just before he picked it up. The doctor in the emergency room couldn't stop laughing as he separated Mike's hands from the display. Your parents took away your television privileges for two weeks."

"It would have been a month, but they couldn't stop laughing either, so I got off with two weeks," she murmured, smiling at the memory. She quickly returned to the present. "I still don't understand?

Matthias looked pained. "As I explained, I am here because you have been grieving your daughter's death for so long it has affected your entire family. You are in the process of alienating your husband and your family because you have completely shut them off from your feelings."

She stiffened. "I always felt a mourning period was appropriate."

"I am not saying you should stop mourning and forget all about your daughter. But you are a young woman, Libby. You need to go on with your life. Libby. You need to rediscover the richness you have within yourself. If you don’t you could miss out on something incredible."

"And you think I will do this because I no longer have any of my family around me?"

Matthias ignored her sarcasm as he continued sipping his wine. "That is correct. But isn't that what you wanted, to be alone with your grief? You are here as Libby Douglas. You moved here for a new job. The person you are replacing is going on maternity leave and doesn't plan to return. And please do not worry, you will not be staying in the motel for too long."

Libby closed her eyes in hopes doing so would stop the whirling images dancing inside her brain. It didn't. When she opened them again, she noticed a handbag lying on the bed. She didn't remember seeing it there before.

"Mine?" she asked Matthias.

"You will need the proper accessories for your new life."

She picked it up as if it contained a disgusting object and opened it. She pulled out the wallet and studied the contents. All the identification she found stated that she was Elizabeth Douglas.

"How can this be done?" She held up the wallet.

"For us, very easily. I do ask that you go easy on the credit cards. Of course, as long as you're here you will receive the bills." Matthias smiled.

"As long as I'm here," Libby mused. "Oh, I get it! You're just like Clarence."

"Clarence?" He looked puzzled.

"Yes, Clarence. He was the angel in It's a Wonderful Life. You know, the movie starring Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed. Jimmy, AKA George Bailey, hates his life and Clarence shows him what the town would be like if he didn't exist. And because Clarence succeeds, he gets his wings. You know that every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings."

Matthias looked heavenward. "Why does everyone use the visual media as an example of how we exist? I will not receive wings for any success. After I finish this assignment I will be entering the Council of Elders, as I richly deserve."

Libby wrinkled her nose. "Sounds ominous to me.

He looked offended. "On the contrary, it is a very honorable recognition for my work. But first, you need to understand what is expected of you."

"Expected of me?" Libby stared at him.

Surely, this was a dream. She probably had fallen off the swing at the park and hit her head. When she came to, Tyler would be holding her and her world would be back to normal.

"This is not a dream, this is the life you wished for," Matthias stated.

Could dream characters read your mind? she wondered.

He offered her a droll look as if he was tired of her trying his patience. "No, I am not a dream and yes, I can read your mind."

"Then what do I have to do to return to my life?" she demanded.

Matthias smiled. "That is for you to find out."

"That's a big help! You told me you were here to guide me."

"Guide you, yes. I'm not here to lead you by the hand."

"And what happens to Tyler during all this?"

Saying his name caused an unexpected ache. "Why should he have to go through this, too?"

"I hate to correct you, but he will not be going through anything. He is merely existing in a world that doesn’t include you."

Tyler? Without her? The ache intensified.

Matthias glanced at the small alarm clock set on the bedside table. "It is getting late and you have to report to your new job tomorrow. I suggest you get a good night's rest. I will see you in the morning."

He disappeared as swiftly as he had appeared.

"Wait!" But Libby's protest went unheeded.

Her shoulders slumped. While she would have argued with him that she wasn't the least bit tired, she discovered she was feeling weary.

She pushed herself off the bed and walked over to the suitcases. She unzipped the largest one and pushed the cover back.

"These are not my clothes," she murmured, staring at the brightly colored articles.

They are for Elizabeth Douglas. Do not worry. You will not find anything in a shade unsuitable for you. And they will be a perfect fit.

She looked around but couldn't see any signs of Matthias.

"But, they're so ... bright."

She checked the other two suitcases, digging through the contents until she found a robe and nightgown. She hung up the clothing, amused that wrinkles fell out the moment the garments were placed on a hanger. She also discovered a variety of reading material, including several books she'd planned to read but never managed to find time to.

Libby picked up the robe and a nightgown, then went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the bathtub. She added a few drops of bath oil to the hot water and was soon immersed in the spice-scented water.

"You better not be peeking, Matthias," she called out.

This time there was no answer.

After her bath, she cleansed her face and slipped on her nightgown and robe. By the time she settled herself under the covers, she felt her eyelids drooping and her body relaxing.

"I don't care, it still has to be a dream," she murmured sleepily, curling up on her side. As she fell into a deep sleep, a lone tear gathered at the corner of her eye and silently slipped down her cheek.

 

LIBBY, YOU HAVE TO wake up. It wouldn't be good form to show up late on your first day of work.

"Don't be mean, Tyler. Let me sleep," she murmured, burrowing under the warm covers. As soon as the words left her mouth she realized the voice she'd heard wasn't her husband's. Then she knew she also wasn't lying in her own bed. She opened one eye to find Matthias sitting in the chair.

"How can I get up?" she asked him. "It's so cold in here I'm likely to turn into a popsicle." At that instant, she could hear the heater switch on. "Now if you'll just go away for about an hour..." she suggested.

"Of course." In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Libby took several deep breaths.

"This has to be a dream," she muttered, grabbing her robe and shrugging into it.

Within the appointed hour she showered and put on her makeup. The lipsticks in the cosmetic bag were brighter shades than she usually wore, but she couldn't fault with how the one she'd chosen looked on her. It wasn't until she had a chance to study her choice of clothing that she felt anger at the entity sent to change her life.

"What is this?" she demanded, holding up a black-and-cream plaid skirt that ended well above her knees. Since there was no answer, she paired the skirt with a red sweater and black opaque tights and black flats. As she studied her reflection in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, she realized she was dressed the way she used to dress more than a year ago. Before…

"That is much better than those grandmotherly dresses you were wearing," Matthias pronounced, as he popped back in.

"Calf-length dresses are in style," she said, refusing to admit she did look better in a shorter skirt. She found red button earrings and a gold chain with an onyx pendant to accent the red sweater.

"Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Why, are you joining me?"

"Food is not necessary for my existence. But I will see you again. Here is where you will be working. I'm sure you will have no problem adjusting to your new job." He handed her a piece of paper and disappeared.

"Wonderful. He provides clothes, lodging and a job," Libby murmured as she looked down at the paper. Her face turned white as she read the words.

"No, please," she moaned, dropping onto the end of the bed. If she wanted Matthias to reappear and explain how he could do such a horrible thing to her, she was out of luck. There was only silence. It took her several moments to rouse herself and leave the room.

As Libby stepped outside, a familiar voice sounded inside her head.

The blue Maxima is yours.

"It better have a full tank of gas." She found the keys in her purse and unlocked the driver's door.

Naturally, it has a full tank. I wouldn't give you anything else.

Libby drove to a coffee shop she knew well.

At least, one she remembered well. Except she noticed Maxine's now had red-and-white striped awnings in front instead of the homey blue-andwhite gingham curtains at the windows. Inside was more familiar, with most of the tables and booths filled and waitresses scurrying to fill orders.

Libby's face lit up and she opened her mouth to greet Maxine, the owner, but the woman merely offered her a smile.

"Just one, honey?"

Libby’s face felt stiff as she gave the woman a jerky nod.

"Let's find you a nice table." Maxine led the way toward the rear of the restaurant. She gestured to a chair and handed Libby a menu after she'd sat down. "Would you like coffee?"

Libby nodded and coughed to clear her throat.

"Yes, thank you."

"Be right back with your coffee." Maxine took off.

Libby set her purse on an empty chair and opened the menu. As she scanned the offerings, she felt desolate and wondered if she could eat anything at all.

As I explained before, Libby, no one here knows you. You are nothing more than a perfect stranger to them.

That doesn't mean it can't hurt, she thought, positive her speaking out loud would only cause unwanted attention.

"Here you go, hon." Maxine set a filled cup in front of her. "Have you decided what you want?"

"I'll have the Belgian waffle with scrambled eggs and bacon," she murmured. "And a large glass of grapefruit juice."

Maxine nodded as she jotted down the order.

"You're new around here, aren't you?"

Libby nodded. "I start teaching at Miss Parker's Preschool today."

"That's right, Bonnie is going on maternity leave next week. Well, darlin', if you need anything, you just ask for Maxine." She patted Libby's hand before she rushed off.

Libby could feel her throat close up. I went to school with her daughter, Karen, she thought. I worked here every summer while I was in high school. Maxine was one of the first people to come see me after Sara was gone. And now she doesn't even know me.

You wanted everyone to leave you in peace, Libby. All I did was grant your wish.

Now she truly understood the adage of being careful what you wished for.

Libby couldn't remember ever coming in here and eating by herself. She always ran into people she knew. She would either share their table or someone would sit down with her, even if it was only to have a cup of coffee or an iced tea while they chatted.

She glanced around the room and saw many familiar faces. A few looked up and offered her a pleasant, but impersonal, smile. How it hurt that she couldn't walk up and say hello.

But that didn't stop Libby from covertly watching Denise Watkins, who was having breakfast with her fiancé, Carl Lindsay, the manager of the hardware store. She remembered receiving their wedding invitation. She had gone to school with Denise, and years ago they had spent a lot of time together, but Libby couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to her. She'd never even asked her about her wedding plans. And now Denise didn't know her.

Libby pulled a paperback book out of her purse and began reading. She gave Maxine a wan smile when the woman refilled her coffee cup and again when she set her breakfast in front of her.

If I say I wish l'd never made that wish, will my life go back to normal? she asked silently.

No, Libby, it won't. It's too late now.

Are you saying this is a learning experience for me? She didn't bother to hide her sarcasm. I am a teacher. I am familiar with lessons that are meant to turn you into a better person. I can already tell you I don't like the lesson you've planned for me.

Perhaps not, but I can assure you that once this is all over, you will feel better for the experience.

Now why doesn't that thought give me comfort? Libby finished her meal as quickly as possible.

She couldn't handle sitting there any longer watching people she knew but who no longer recognized her.

Now there was only one problem. She was beginning a new job today at the last place she wanted to be.

She didn't need to ask for directions when it was time to pay her tab and leave for work. Not when she had worked there for the past six years. Not when it was the same school she herself had gone to and always visualized her daughter attending.

Libby parked her car in the preschool parking lot and watched cars pull in and the drivers drop off their pint-size passengers. Her eyes stung with tears as she watched little girls and boys run into the building.

"I can't do this," she whispered.

Of course you can.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as if she wished to take flight.

Go on, Libby. Go in and face your greatest fear.

Libby took several deep breaths to calm her racing pulse. Then she climbed out of the car and slowly headed for the entrance.