Hearts Through Time

TWELVE

Nick's palms moistened and his heart knocked a crazy rhythm as he stood at his mother's door. He'd never enjoyed their visits, but now he realized a lot of that had to do with his father's anger and embarrassment. Nick wanted to see her this time, and he looked forward to what she had to tell him. Would it have anything to do with Abby? He still wondered how he could have a future with a ghost who'd been dead since 1912, but he hadn't given up hoping something magical would happen to make his dreams come true.

After taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. When the door opened, light from inside the house spilled onto the porch. His mother wore a yellow and green dress that covered her arms to her elbows, and most of her legs. White sandals laced across her stocking feet. The years had aged her, drawing lines around her mouth and eyes. Sadness still coated her eyes, the same way they had the last time he saw her. Guilt ate at his gut knowing he'd caused much of her heartache.

"Hello, Mom."

Her lips quivered as she returned his smile. "Please come in, Nick."

Knick-knacks decorated her front room, lining shelf upon shelf. Larger items sat on the floor next to a small television, and the worn sofas were covered with colorful afghans. Several rugs were scattered across the hardwood floor.

"Would you like to sit?" she asked.

He nodded and sat on the sofa he remembered hating as a boy. There was never anything for him to do when he visited his mother, just sit and read. She had never believed that the television was a good tool for helping to raise a child. Now he wished he had talked to her and gotten to know her better.

She paced the floor, squeezing one hand with the other. "It's good to see you. You've changed a little since I saw you in Hollywood."

"Yes, I think a lot about me has changed." He arched an eyebrow. "I realize now that I should have taken your advice about Leslie Blake. If I had, maybe my life wouldn't have been so hard."

"You wouldn't have learned so much if you'd listened," his mother said matter-of-factly as she sat next to him. "But I see something else in your eyes. You've suffered a lot, but I detect a bit of happiness. Am I correct?"

He grinned. "Yes, I'm happy now. I'm satisfied with the way I'm living." He grasped her hand and her eyes widened. "I've also found my soul mate, just as you told me I would."

Her breath hitched. "You have?"

"Yes, Mom. This woman traveled a long way to find me, just like you said."

"What's her name?"

"Abigail Carlisle."

"Tell me about her. What does she do? Where does she come from?"

Nick wanted to laugh. What did Abigail do besides hang around in a ghostly state and make him happy beyond measure? He definitely couldn't tell her she came from 1912. "Well, her father owns a newspaper, so she is an heiress in her own right."

"I'd love to meet her one day."

"I'd love for you to see her, too."

"If you care deeply for her, then I'm sure I'll love her."

"So, Mom," he said before taking a deep breath, "what do you need to tell me? Your phone call sounded urgent."

She stood and paced the floor again. "I know you've always thought me insane, but I'm not. I have a gift and I want to use it in helping people." She stopped by a shelf and straightened the knick-knacks that were already straightened from what he could see. "Lately, you have been on my mind, more now than usual." She turned and faced him. "I cannot see into your future very far, which worries me a bit, but I can sense how happy you are, so it eases my fear slightly."