gasping. The roar of the fire deafened her. She covered her ears, pressing with her palms to block out the screams.
No. The room was silent. She was at home, in her own bed, her own quiet bedroom. No sound at all except her pulse pounding like an aboriginal war drum.
It’s not real. I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.
She repeated the mantra over and over, willing herself to believe it. But her thudding heart refused to take heed.
The people of Seaside Cove must be warned.
The idea again seeped into her consciousness as though from an outside source. It went deeper than thought, more like intuition, something that bypassed logic and resonated in her soul with a sense of urgency impossible to ignore.
“It’s just a dream.” She spoke aloud to drown out the tumult in her mind. “A stupid dream that happened because I tried to play the piano and couldn’t. That’s all it is.”
But why was it the same dream as the night before? And why had it returned when she hadn’t taken any sleeping pills?
And why couldn’t she dismiss the thought — no, the insane notion
—
that she had to warn people about a coming disaster?
Chapter 8
Saturday, November 26
“Oh, Greg, I’m so happy. This will be the best Christmas ever.” The enthusiasm in his mother’s words bubbled through the phone line.
Greg laughed. “You say that every year, Mom.” Standing behind his desk, he cocked his head sideways to wedge the receiver against his shoulder. His hands free, he flipped through a stack of law journals, searching for the issue containing an article on exclusivity in property law.
“Well, a wedding on Christmas Day will definitely make this year the best so far.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” He couldn’t help but smile. Mom could always be counted on to applaud any decision he made, and she had loved Jill from the first time he’d taken her home to meet his parents. “You’re sure you won’t mind having Reverend and Mrs. Hollister there for Christmas dinner?”
“Of course not. Here, your father wants to talk to you.”
A shuffle sounded as the phone changed hands on the other end. Greg found the magazine issue he wanted and pulled it fromthe pile. He tossed it onto the corner of his desk, then straightened to attention as his father’s voice came on the line.
“Congratulations, son. Jill’s a fine young woman. She’ll make a good wife for you.”
Some of the tension left his spine at his father’s words. He’d been a bit worried that Dad would chide him for not talking this decision over with him first. “Yes, sir, she will. And I hope I’ll be a good husband for her.”
“Timing’s good, too. Marriage will be good for your career. People like their politicians to be married. Makes ‘em more sympathetic, easier to identify with. It’s a good move to get it done before the election.”
Greg indulged in an eye roll that his father could not see. He didn’t bother explaining that the timing of the wedding had nothing to do with the election. Dad wouldn’t hear him anyway. That seat on the HRM city council meant the world to his proud and ambitious father.
Mom’s voice sounded in the background. “Let me talk to him again, Harold.” More rubbing noises, and then she asked, “Are you and Jill free to come for dinner on Wednesday night? I can just see the ceremony in my mind, with you two standing near the fireplace and a cozy fire burning on the hearth. I want her to see what I’ve done with the mantle decorations this year. She might not like all the greenery. If not, we’ll need to hurry and figure out what we want to do instead.”
“Mom, we don’t want you going to a lot of trouble. We just want a simple family ceremony. No special decorations or anything.”
Her voice became stern. “Gregory, don’t be such a
man.
The most special day in a woman’s life is her wedding day, so I want to do whatever I can to make it perfect for Jill. Just bring my future daughter-in-law for
No. The room was silent. She was at home, in her own bed, her own quiet bedroom. No sound at all except her pulse pounding like an aboriginal war drum.
It’s not real. I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.
She repeated the mantra over and over, willing herself to believe it. But her thudding heart refused to take heed.
The people of Seaside Cove must be warned.
The idea again seeped into her consciousness as though from an outside source. It went deeper than thought, more like intuition, something that bypassed logic and resonated in her soul with a sense of urgency impossible to ignore.
“It’s just a dream.” She spoke aloud to drown out the tumult in her mind. “A stupid dream that happened because I tried to play the piano and couldn’t. That’s all it is.”
But why was it the same dream as the night before? And why had it returned when she hadn’t taken any sleeping pills?
And why couldn’t she dismiss the thought — no, the insane notion
—
that she had to warn people about a coming disaster?
Chapter 8
Saturday, November 26
“Oh, Greg, I’m so happy. This will be the best Christmas ever.” The enthusiasm in his mother’s words bubbled through the phone line.
Greg laughed. “You say that every year, Mom.” Standing behind his desk, he cocked his head sideways to wedge the receiver against his shoulder. His hands free, he flipped through a stack of law journals, searching for the issue containing an article on exclusivity in property law.
“Well, a wedding on Christmas Day will definitely make this year the best so far.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” He couldn’t help but smile. Mom could always be counted on to applaud any decision he made, and she had loved Jill from the first time he’d taken her home to meet his parents. “You’re sure you won’t mind having Reverend and Mrs. Hollister there for Christmas dinner?”
“Of course not. Here, your father wants to talk to you.”
A shuffle sounded as the phone changed hands on the other end. Greg found the magazine issue he wanted and pulled it fromthe pile. He tossed it onto the corner of his desk, then straightened to attention as his father’s voice came on the line.
“Congratulations, son. Jill’s a fine young woman. She’ll make a good wife for you.”
Some of the tension left his spine at his father’s words. He’d been a bit worried that Dad would chide him for not talking this decision over with him first. “Yes, sir, she will. And I hope I’ll be a good husband for her.”
“Timing’s good, too. Marriage will be good for your career. People like their politicians to be married. Makes ‘em more sympathetic, easier to identify with. It’s a good move to get it done before the election.”
Greg indulged in an eye roll that his father could not see. He didn’t bother explaining that the timing of the wedding had nothing to do with the election. Dad wouldn’t hear him anyway. That seat on the HRM city council meant the world to his proud and ambitious father.
Mom’s voice sounded in the background. “Let me talk to him again, Harold.” More rubbing noises, and then she asked, “Are you and Jill free to come for dinner on Wednesday night? I can just see the ceremony in my mind, with you two standing near the fireplace and a cozy fire burning on the hearth. I want her to see what I’ve done with the mantle decorations this year. She might not like all the greenery. If not, we’ll need to hurry and figure out what we want to do instead.”
“Mom, we don’t want you going to a lot of trouble. We just want a simple family ceremony. No special decorations or anything.”
Her voice became stern. “Gregory, don’t be such a
man.
The most special day in a woman’s life is her wedding day, so I want to do whatever I can to make it perfect for Jill. Just bring my future daughter-in-law for
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