Page 2

Chapter

Two

Mandy blinked awake, disoriented by the bright sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. Mozart lay curled against her hip, while Bach had claimed his usual spot on the pillow next to her head. Her mouth felt like cotton, an after-effect of the pain medication from yesterday.

She fumbled for her phone on the nightstand, squinting at the display. 3:47 PM.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." She dropped her head back onto the pillow. "I slept for almost twenty-four hours?"

Bach chirped his agreement, stretching languidly before hopping down from the bed. Mozart remained firmly planted against her hip, clearly expecting his usual morning pets before allowing her to move.

Her back twinged as she shifted position, but the knife-edge agony from yesterday had subsided to its usual dull roar. Still uncomfortable, still present, but manageable.

"Okay, buddy. Mama needs a shower." She gently displaced the cat, who gave her an offended look before joining his brother by the bedroom door.

The pendant swung loose from her nightgown, the gem catching the morning light as she sat up, the blue stone seeming to glow from within. Mandy touched it gently, remembering the strange but oddly charming woman who had given it to her. Yearning for a shower to wash away the grunge of yesterday, she removed it, setting it on her dresser.

Steam filled the bathroom as she turned the shower on full blast, letting the water heat while she stripped off her nightgown. The hot water sluiced over her shoulders as she stepped under the spray, and she groaned in appreciation as some of the lingering tension melted away. Sitting on the built-in shower seat, she stayed under the spray longer than usual, letting the heat work its magic on her tired muscles.

By the time she stepped out, wrapped in her favorite fluffy towel, she felt almost human again. Her cats waited impatiently outside the bathroom door, their demands for breakfast growing more insistent.

"Yes, yes, I hear you." She slipped the necklace with the pendant over her head, then made her way back to the bedroom, pulling on comfortable loose pants, a soft t-shirt advertising I'M ONLY TALKING TO MY CATS TODAY - complete with two cartoon kitty faces - and fuzzy chenille socks.

Bach led the parade to the kitchen, his tail held high like a banner, while Mozart brought up the rear, occasionally bumping against her legs to hurry her along.

Mandy opened the cabinet where she kept the cat food, pulling out two cans of their favorite salmon pate. Bach wound figure-eights around her feet, as usual, and Mozart made cute little hops, acting as if they hadn't eaten in days.

"You do realize, you have a full feeder of kibble right over there." She shook her head at their dramatics as she divided the wet food between their bowls.

The cats dove into their very belated breakfast with enthusiasm, tails held high in contentment. Mandy's own stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.

Standing at the counter was too painful to cook anything proper. She pulled a package of instant oatmeal from the cabinet - not ideal, but quick and filling. While the microwave hummed, she poured a glass of orange juice, then leaned on the stool she kept in the kitchen, taking weight off her aching spine.

The cats finished their breakfast and wandered off to their morning grooming routine while she stirred brown sugar into her oatmeal. Taking small, careful steps, she made her way to her recliner. The familiar whir of the motor adjusting the chair's position brought a sigh of relief as she settled in with her breakfast.

The oatmeal wasn't gourmet dining, but it filled the hollow feeling in her stomach. Mozart hopped up onto the arm of the chair, eyeing her breakfast hopefully.

"Not for kitties." She took another bite. "This is people food."

His disappointed chirp made her chuckle. She finished the last few bites quickly, setting the empty bowl on the side table.

Mozart settled into her lap, his warm weight familiar and comforting. Mandy stroked his long orange fur, smiling as he started his thunderous purr.

"You know, most people would think I'm certifiable, having full conversations with my cats." She scratched under his chin, earning an even louder purr. "The classic crazy cat lady, living alone with her fur babies."

Bach appeared on the arm of the recliner, his regal presence demanding equal attention. She obliged, reaching up to stroke his sleek head.

"But who else am I going to talk to?" The words came out softer than she intended. "It's not like I get many visitors. And phone calls with my daughter once or twice a week don't really count as socializing."

Mozart head-butted her hand when she paused in her petting, making her laugh.

"At least you two are good listeners. You never interrupt, never judge." She smiled as Bach settled into his favorite sphinx-like position, his tail curling around his side. "Well, okay, you do interrupt sometimes. Usually when food is involved."

The quiet of her apartment wrapped around her like a familiar blanket. Just the sound of purring cats and the gentle whir of the air conditioning. Sometimes the silence felt oppressive, but right now, with her boys keeping her company, it felt peaceful instead of lonely.

Her mind wandered back to yesterday's ER visit. "You'll never believe what happened yesterday," she told her cats. "In the ER, I met this absolutely fascinating woman named Jacinth. She appeared out of nowhere while I was lying there in pain."

Mozart squirmed cutely and rolled over, exposing his furry tummy, only the very tip of his tail swishing as he begged for tummy rubs. Amused, she complied. Having moved from his previous spot to her desk, Bach was doing an excellent impersonation of a sphinx, blinking at her seraphically while she told them all about yesterday.

"She wore this gorgeous outfit, it looked like it was pure silk, it had that special sheen, you know? And she gave me this."

She held up the pendant for her cats to inspect. Predictably, Bach gave a huge yawn, as if he couldn't be bothered. Mozart's green eyes followed the movement, his tail twitching.

"No playing with this one, mister. It's far too precious." She tucked the pendant beneath her shirt, letting it rest against her skin, safe from claws and paws. "Though I still can't believe she gave it to me. Who gives expensive jewelry like this to a complete stranger?"

The opening notes of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" blasted from her phone, where it lay on the side table next to her recliner. Mozart shot her an offended look before hopping down to find a quieter spot.

Mandy's heart lifted at her daughter's ringtone. She picked up the phone and swiped the smooth surface, already smiling.

"Hi sweetie!"

"Mom! I was getting worried when you didn't answer my text last night." Sabrina's voice held a note of concern beneath its usual cheerful tone.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry." Mandy shifted position carefully, adjusting her stupid knee into a different position, hoping to get more comfortable. "I had a rough day yesterday. I ended up in the ER, then fell asleep as soon as I got home."

"What?" Sabrina's voice rose sharply. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Because I knew you'd worry, and there wasn't anything you could do from there." Mandy kept her tone light. "My back seized up - you know how it does. But I'm fine now. They gave me a shot of something wonderful in the ER, and I slept from the time I got home til straight through this afternoon."

"Mom." Sabrina's exasperated sigh carried clearly through the phone. "You're supposed to tell me these things. That's what daughters are for."

"To worry unnecessarily?"

"To support their stubborn mothers who don't know when to ask for help."

"I did ask for help." Mandy chuckled. "I called 911 like a responsible adult."

"That's... actually not reassuring." Sabrina's voice softened. "But you're really okay now?"

"I'm really okay. Back to what's normal for me, anyway."

Mozart chose that moment to hop back into her lap, demanding attention. His loud purr carried through the phone.

"At least the boys are taking care of you." Sabrina laughed. "Give them extra pets from their favorite human sister."

"You goofball! You're their only sister, human or otherwise." Mandy scratched under Mozart's chin, making his purr grow louder. "And they're always well taken care of, you know that."

"I do. But I still worry about you being alone out there."

"It's hardly the Wild West. And besides, I'm not alone. I have my furry nurses." Mandy smiled as Bach leaped down from the desk and joined them, curling up against her hip. "And I'm managing just fine."

"So how's everyone doing up there?" Mandy settled deeper into her recliner, fingers absently stroking Bach's soft fur. "I miss my grandbabies."

"Oh! I meant to tell you - Julie just got promoted at work!" Pride rang through Sabrina's voice. "She's happy as a pig in slop at that accounting firm. They moved her up to senior accountant last week."

"Accounting." Mandy echoed, and shook her head in wonder. "Are we absolutely sure she's related to me? I can barely balance my checkbook."

Sabrina snickered. "Yes, I know. Oh! And you'll never believe what Kyle did last week. That boy of mine got it into his head that he wants to be a rodeo star." Sabrina's exasperation carried clearly through the phone. "He was out in the pasture trying to ride Goldie."

"Goldie? Your best milk cow? The one that you sent pictures of with the blue ribbons from the county fair?"

"The very same. There he was, hanging onto her neck, whooping like a cowboy in some old Western, while she's just standing there."

"Oh no." Mandy could picture it all too clearly - her seventeen-year-old grandson perched precariously on the confused dairy cow.

"Oh yes. And it gets better." Sabrina's voice held that particular mix of frustration and amusement that only teenage children could inspire. "Right in the middle of his rodeo adventure, this stray dog wandered onto the property."

"Let me guess - Max and Duke went after it?"

"Like they were possessed. Barking their heads off, they went charging right under Goldie." Sabrina paused for dramatic effect. "Poor Goldie panicked, started bucking and running around the pasture like she thought she was at the Calgary Stampede."

Mandy pressed a hand to her mouth, torn between horror and laughter. "Was Kyle hurt?"

"Broke his arm in two places when she finally threw him." Sabrina sighed heavily. "I ran for him, of course. The idiot boy was sprawled in the grass, still laughing despite the pain. Said it was the most fun he'd had all summer."

"That boy." Mandy shook her head, remembering Kyle's perpetual search for adventure. "He clearly takes after his mother. Or have you forgotten the time you tried to parasail off the garage roof using bedsheets?"

"Mom! I was twelve, and we agreed never to speak of that again!"

Mandy laughed merrily. "Well, at least he comes by his adventurous spirit honestly. Oh! Speaking of the grandkids - I loved those new pictures you sent of Robbie. He's getting so big!"

"Isn't he?" Pride filled Sabrina's voice. "Though he's a bit spotty at the moment - he came down with chicken pox last week."

"Chicken pox?" Mandy frowned. "I thought they vaccinated for that now. Didn't he get his shots?"

"Oh, he did. Right on schedule." Sabrina sighed. "But sometimes they get it anyway, even with the vaccine. At least it's super mild - he barely even notices he's sick. Just a few spots here and there, and only a slight fever the first day."

"Well, I suppose it's practically a rite of passage." Mandy smiled, remembering. "We didn't have the vaccine when you were little. Though you were lucky - you had such a mild case yourself."

"Did I? I don't even remember having it."

"You were only six. You had maybe ten spots total. We wouldn't have even known what it was if I hadn't expected it, because of Tommy next door coming down with it the week before. You were more upset about not being allowed to play with your friends for a week than you were about being sick."

Sabrina launched into a story about Lauren's latest adventures in Seattle, and Mandy settled deeper into her recliner, letting her daughter's familiar voice wash over her. The pendant pulsed warmly against her skin as she half-listened to tales of her oldest grandchild's new job at a software company.

Strange - she'd meant to tell Sabrina about Jacinth and the mysterious necklace, but every time she opened her mouth to mention it, the words seemed to slip away like smoke. It felt easier to just listen, to let Sabrina's cheerful chatter fill the air while she stroked her cats' silky fur.

"I should let you go rest." Concern crept back into Sabrina's tone. "You sure you're okay after yesterday?"

"I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little sleepy still from the darned shot. Nothing a good book to read, some cat cuddles, and a nap later won't fix."

"Promise you'll call if you need anything?"

"Cross my heart." Mandy smiled at her daughter's protective instincts. "Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too, Mom. Talk soon!"

The call disconnected, leaving Mandy alone with her thoughts and two very demanding cats who clearly felt she hadn't provided enough attention during the phone call.

Her fingers strayed to the pendant again, drawn to its peculiar warmth. She lifted it from where it nestled against her collarbone, tilting it to catch the light from her reading lamp. Mozart's head lifted at her movement, but seeing no treats forthcoming, he settled back into her lap with a soft chirp.

She closed her hand around the pendant, and a wave of comfort washed through her. The warmth spread from her palm up her arm, easing the lingering ache in her shoulders from lying so long on that uncomfortable gurney. Her thumb moved across the surface in slow circles, almost of its own accord, the sensation mesmerizing.

It gave off a peculiar tingling, reminiscent of the pins-and-needles feeling when circulation returned to a limb that had fallen asleep. But this wasn't unpleasant - quite the opposite. It felt... soothing. Healing, almost.

The pendant pulsed once, hot against her palm, and the air around her grew heavy with unseen energy. A male voice shattered the silence, deep and resonant, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Who dares to summon me?"