The Past-Life Chronicles

18

Greg drove Mom to her dental appointment earlier, so I'm borrowing her Yukon. She won't mind.

Never in a million years would I have thought I'd be driving myself here—or anywhere, period. And technically, with only a learner's permit, I shouldn't be driving by myself. But nothing stops me today. It's finally making sense with Heather, and I'm so determined to confront her that I will both get behind a wheel and set foot in a place like Grace Calvary.

In the church parking lot, I yank the keys out of the ignition and hop down from the silver Yukon. With quick strides, I cross the lot, breathing through the knots in my chest. I can already feel a barricade of stiff energy as I open the front double doors, telling me I'm not welcome there, even though no one's there to greet me—or turn me away—in the vestibule.

I search down a carpeted hall for the offices. They've got to be around here somewhere. There's a sanctuary to my left with auditorium-style seating, and I shake my head. Who wants to be sitting down when they practice their spirituality? Why not stand and chant, dance and invoke—be an active participant in the ritual?

I head down the hall, peeking into a few offices as I do, but all I see so far are closed doors or empty desks. Until I spot a secretary in a blue blazer hanging up a desk phone. She glances up, noticing me. "Can I help you?"

"Um...is Heather Huber in?"

"May I ask who's inquiring?"

"I'm her sister."

At the secretary's brightening smile, I assume Heather must not have told her co-workers about me and Mom, the fact we're pagan. Otherwise, I'm sure this woman wouldn't be smiling at me like that.

She lifts the receiver of her desk phone again, dials two digits, and announces, "Heather? Your sister's here to see you." She hangs up and directs me to the last office down the hall.

I follow her instruction, discovering the last office to be connected to the head pastor's. Thankfully, he's not at his desk. It must be the lunch hour or something.

"Willow?" My sister sounds more confused than surprised when I find her. She's just getting to her feet, a half-eaten pita-wrap on her desk. My theory about the lunch break is confirmed.

"Sorry." I take a step back. "I didn't mean to disturb you on your break." I shouldn't be disturbing her at work anyway. What had I been thinking?

"It's all right." She's still regarding me oddly. "What are you doing here?"

Making up my mind, I shut the door behind me, giving us privacy. "I came to talk to you."

"About what?"

Where do I even start? I'd barged in without even having a plan. What was I going to say to her? Surely, I can't just launch into a speech about reincarnation and discovering our shared former lives. She'd probably call security on me. Either way, she definitely won't believe me.

I hesitate, feeling foolish. "How are you? How's your health?"

She scrunches her brow. "Fine."

"I was just..." Anxiety plagues me as I stand there, facing my sister on her turf, in the church where she works and worships, having no idea how to tell her the real reason I've come. The truth was that we'd shared a lifetime before and had left our issues unresolved. Now those same issues are coming back to haunt us in our current lives, affecting the futures we've been trying to make for ourselves.

It's all connected. She needs to understand that—for her own sake.

"Look." I raise my chin, meeting her gaze squarely. I don't have a way around it, so I decide to just say it. "If you hope to become a mother someday, then you need to open up to our mother."