CHAPTER 31.

QUINLAN AND ANGELA.

Angela sat at her desk in silence. She had a couple of minutes before her scheduled conference call with Mary and George. Her work with Quinlan had been her biggest challenge as ground patrol. She'd had difficult a.s.signments but none that held a candle to this one. She recalled a scene from an old Golden Girls episode.

Rose: "Can I ask a dumb question?"

Dorothy: "Better than anyone I know."

Quinlan was her Rose. The woman had intelligence, Angela knew that. She just didn't know where.

Her cell phone buzzed.

"h.e.l.lo there," Angela said, trying for an upbeat tone.

"How are you today?" Mary asked.

"Plugging right along." Trudging would have been more accurate. "George? Are you there too?"

"That I am," George said in his usual gravelly voice.

"I want to start by commending your work on this rather...difficult a.s.signment," Mary said.

"Thanks," Angela doodled across the notebook app on her iPad. "But I gotta tell you, I'm nervous we're running out of time. She's definitely not the brightest bulb on the tree."

"Once in a while we get someone who simply cannot or will not let go of their Earthly ties," Mary said. "And as you know, we have to alter our course of action accordingly."

"Let's kick it up a notch," George interjected. "I'll send you the particulars. And if this doesn't work, go ahead and give her the completion certificate."

Angela straightened in her chair. "Are you sure?"

"No worries. We'll handle it," George said.

"I hope you're right." Angela drew a red question mark on her electronic notebook then added a fluffy cloud around it.

"Thank you for working this one in, Angela. I know she's a handful, but I knew you were the ground patrol for the job." Mary's voice beamed admiration.

"She's been a trip," Angela responded. "That's for sure."

"Trust the process," George said. "I'm sending the information as we speak. Expect it shortly."

"I'll be waiting." Angela added lightning bolts around her cloudy question mark.

"We'll be in touch." Mary's words ended the conference call.

Angela rubbed her eyes. "The woman definitely wears me out."

Quinlan lay on her back across the bed, her crooked arm covering her eyes. She was bored to tears with all the lessons and instructions. She needed to get past all this to get on with the reason she'd gone to all the trouble to get back in the first place. She had to get to Gracie.

Her blue cell phone jingled.

"Hey, it's me."

"Hi Ruby," Quinlan answered, her eyes closed.

"I'm not supposed to call till Sat.u.r.day, but wanted to see how the trip went."

"I'm here," Quinlan replied. "Just busy, learning...things."

"So...the landing? Everything went okay?"

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ruby hedged. "Just something I heard."

"About Eddie?"

"Ummm...you could say that." Ruby's chuckle sounded more like marbles in her mouth than gum.

"Is he in trouble?" She thought she actually smelled the syrupy-sweet gum through the phone.

"Well, let's just say he's being fitted for his third pair of gla.s.ses in the last two months," Ruby said. "They decided to adjust his distance vision and give him one last shot at escort."

"Good," Quinlan said, in no mood for small talk.

"Yeah," Ruby added, "he's making another run this weekend. If he doesn't get this one right, he'll probably be checking ticket stubs at The Starz."

"Would that be his punishment?"

"Augh...punishment? Woman, have you not learned anything?" Ruby sighed loudly between chomps. "We do not punish; repeat...do, not, punish. The word is re-a.s.sign-ment."

Quinlan shrugged, not really caring what it was called. "Have you checked on Meghan?" She wasn't in the mood for Ruby, but she did miss her sister.

"Hey, yeah I have," Ruby said. "She told me to tell you hi and not to worry about anything."

"She's not cooking, is she?" Quinlan asked.

Ruby snorted a laugh. "Are you kidding?"

"Good." Meghan's cooking skills were minimal, which prompted Quinlan to stock several single-serving dishes in the freezer before her trip.

"She's not, but I am," Ruby said.

Quinlan pushed up on one elbow. "You're cooking for Meghan?"

"I gotta tell ya. I make a mean pot of chili."

She rubbed her eyes. G.o.d, the woman had a heart of gold, but chili? Every night? "I, uh...didn't know you were a cook."

"You bet." Ruby sounded pleased. "And after we're finished with my chili recipes, I've already got the next menu planned."

Chili Recipes? Good grief. Quinlan added Meghan to her Worry List. Her sister's cholesterol could skyrocket by the time she got back. Not that she knew if cholesterol even mattered anymore, but Ruby as head chef coupled with Meghan's poor food choices spelled nothing short of disaster.

"Well, gotta bolt," Ruby said. "Just wanted to stay on top of things. Over and out." Ruby ended the call.

She closed her eyes and pushed what she hoped to be the end b.u.t.ton.

Moments later she fell into a deep dream state. For a while she drifted through a pleasant, benign fog. As the mist lifted she found herself in unfamiliar, yet familiar somehow, surroundings.

She sat in a small canoe near a dock on a peaceful body of water. Soft waves lapped the sides of the vessel. She scanned the sh.o.r.eline. To the right, a deer drank at the water's edge. To the left, a bed of tree stumps rose out of the water like headstones.

An unknown force pulled her attention across the water to a forest, thick and colorful with moss-covered trees. Her foot rubbed against a weather-beaten oar lying on the bottom of the canoe. Her eyes fixated on the far away trees with an unknown urgent push to cross the lake. She had to get there.

Lifting the oar, she ran a hand over the dried smooth wood. With a desire that seemed to have a life of its own she lowered the oar in the water and paddled with long determined strokes.

She knew she was dreaming. Strange. She also realized a thick rope secured the canoe to the dock. Through her mystical dream-state, which makes little sense to the conscious mind, she knew she needed to untie the rope to cross the lake.

It was like watching herself in a movie. Untie the rope, Einstein, she wanted to scream. She kept her rowing pace through the water. The urge to reach the opposite sh.o.r.eline plagued her. The knotted rope held her back. Frustration built. She needed to untie the rope to free herself. Was she unable? Or unwilling?

After waking the next morning with a mood that registered with the sc.u.m-sucking mud dwellers of her lake dream she sat on the edge of the bed, residual frustration lingering. It was only a dream, yet it felt so real. Bizarre. And total nonsense. Why didn't she untie the stupid rope? She deplored helplessness in any fashion.

She dressed in slow-mo, unable to shake the futility of the dream. Seeing she had an hour before meeting Angela, she decided on breakfast. Maybe food and a shot of caffeine would give her a boost.

Finding the breakfast station empty, Quinlan opted for a blueberry bagel and strong, black coffee. The nourishment and caffeine helped open her eyes, but did little to dismiss her mood.

"Good morning," Angela said, entering the breakfast station. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" Angela took the seat next to Quinlan.

Quinlan found Angela's tone annoyingly chipper. "I suppose." She feigned a smile.

"Sleep well?"

"Yes, wonderfully." Terrible, actually.

"Good." Angela rose. "Ready to get started?"

"Yeah, sure." Quinlan really wanted to spend the day doing anything but follow someone else's orders.

"Before we start I've got an errand to run. Do you mind?"

"Not at all." Quinlan pushed up from the table. Like I have a choice.

"I need to go to the bookstore. We can walk." Angela led Quinlan outside and pointed down the street. "This way."

Quinlan fell in step with Angela.

"You feeling okay? You sound a bit...puny."

"I'm fine." Quinlan's voice flat. "I just had a strange dream last night."

Angela's eyebrows shot up. "Oh?"

Quinlan shrugged. "It was dumb. You know, dreams never make sense."

"Want to talk about it?" Angela slowed her pace. "Sometimes that helps."

"It's just...." Quinlan started, then decided she really didn't want to go there. "Nothing important."

"Hmmm, I see." Angela pointed ahead. "There's our stop."

Walking inside, Quinlan felt she had stepped back in time to a quaint mom-and-pop book store, the kind that preceded the more modern mega-bookstore chains. The smell of some wonderful coffee concoction filtered through the shop, adding to the ambiance.

"This way," Angela directed. "I need a gift."

She followed Angela to an alcove off one side of the building which housed a small art gallery. Water colors, oils, acrylic and exquisite scenic posters lined the walls. Several freestanding displays dotted the middle of the mini gallery.

"I'll just be a few minutes." Angela shooed Quinlan with a hand-wave. "Look around."

Quinlan wandered the perimeter of the exhibit area, glancing briefly at the art pieces with an unfocused gaze. She found Angela toward the back.

"How do you like this one?" Angela stood before a striking poster of a moss-colored lake with a dense autumn forest backdrop. Sunset colors drizzled hues of oranges and pinks through the water. A weathered dock in the foreground near the edge of the picture secured a small wooden canoe with a water-stained cable rope. The sinking sun behind the dense forest on the far sh.o.r.eline cast a looming shadow of the canoe on the water.

She tilted her head. "It's...." She moved closer. "Something looks...."

"Yes?" Angela edged in.

"It sort of...." Quinlan's eyes narrowed. "I don't know." She shrugged. "It looks familiar somehow."

"Did you see the quote at the bottom?"

Quinlan squinted to read the small print all but obscured in the darkened shadows of the water.

"You cannot discover new oceans Unless you have the courage to Lose sight of the sh.o.r.e."

"That's nice," Quinlan said, and walked off.

"Why don't you get us a latte at the coffee bar?" Angela said. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Sure." Quinlan's mood darkened further, refrained from adding whatever. Her att.i.tude sucked and she knew it. Sucked. Not a grandmother word.

CHAPTER 32.