Page 7 of It's You
“I didn’t choose this monstrosity of a dress.”
Darcy pulled a light, cantaloupe melon-colored cardigan sweater out of her bag and unrolled it, shrugging it over her bare shoulders and buttoning the top three buttons.
“That’s more like it. Matches your hair. By the way, where’d you go this time? When you went inside? Where were you?”
Willow was the only person who knew about Darcy’s occasional visions, her escapes to the enchanted forest when she went inside. Darcy had started having the visions the fall after her fifteenth birthday. At first, they would just appear out of nowhere. A dizzying, swirling feeling would overtake her, and if she closed her eyes, she’d feel as though she was transported somewhere else. She’d be enveloped in the welcoming warmth of the forest, soothed by nature’s sounds, know the pleasure of belonging somewhere, and best of all, she’d hear Jack Beauloup’s voice from that night whispering softly in her ear once again.
But she’d also been frightened by the trance-like state that would last anywhere from thirty seconds to several minutes, no matter how good it felt while she was there. By Christmastime, she felt like she was going crazy, losing her mind, and fearfully confided the visions to Willow.
Thank God, because Willow, who was one-quarter Métis on her father’s side, had taken the news in stride, impressed and intrigued. Pouring over Métis books on trances and hypnosis for their entire winter break, they agreed that Darcy had somehow tapped into the gift of soul flight. Willow encouraged Darcy to master her special talent, control the length of her stays, when and where she welcomed them, and how to fend them off at inopportune times. Darcy had never actually been able to control them, but with the exception of the last few months, their frequency had diminished to two or three times a year. She didn’t mind them. She was grateful, even, to turn herself over tothe embrace of the forest now and then, to the warm heaven of Jack Beauloup’s low, urgent voice from long ago.
In the past few months, however, the frequency had increased again. She was going inside more and more often, unable to control the arrival and length of the visions. While it wasn’t exactly frightening her, after a decade of only occasional episodes, it was unsettling. And for the first time, the forest visions didn’t seem like a private world. For the first time, she understood something, or someone, was there with her.
“Darcy and Willow.” Honoria and her skinny bald husband, Bob, approached their table for the duty greeting.
For the first time, Darcy realized that the table was practically on the outskirts of the outdoor, tented reception, and only sat four people, as opposed to the tables of eight and ten closer to the dance floor. It was definitely the spot farthest away from the head table where the rest of the bridesmaids, led by Honoria’s twin sisters, Theodora and Aurelia, were doing a good job getting drunk on shots of clear liquid.
“I justknewyou two would want to be together, so I didn’t put you at the head table, Darcy.”
“How thoughtful.”
Willow stood up to greet the bride, her slim figure, black dress, and gamine jet-black hair a striking contrast against Honoria’s blonde chignon and cream puff of a gown. Willow gestured to Honoria’s belly with her champagne glass. “No drinking, now. Doctor’s orders.”
Honoria’s eyes widened, then narrowed as she gave Willow, Carlisle’s only local physician, a tight smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Dr. Broussard.”
“Congratulations, Bob.” Darcy stood up and opened her arms to her cousin’s new husband. Bob glanced quickly at Honoria, who answered his silent question with a curt nod as if to say,“Oh, for god’s sake, just hug her and get it over with so we can get away from these two,” before stepping into Darcy’s embrace.
“Welcome to the family,” she whispered into his ear. “Good luck with Honoria. You’re going to need it.”
Bob stumbled back, staring at Darcy, who smiled at her cousin’s new husband with amusement. “Why, Bob Fellows, you’d think I bit you.”
Honoria glared at the two women, then gestured to Darcy’s altered neckline and cardigan. “Always have to be different, right, Darce?”
Darcy met her cousin’s blue eyes with cool defiance. “You know me.”
“Unfortunately.” And then Honoria flounced away, dragging poor Bob behind her.
Without missing a beat, Darcy turned back to Willow to continue their conversation. “You asked where I was this time? A bed of needles. There was someone nearby. Watching me. Near me.”
“That’s happening more and more lately, isn’t it? Someone else in there with you…”
Darcy nodded, sitting back down and refilling her own glass with a bottle of champagne set on the tables for toasting.
“You know that I straddle the line between the medical world and the natural world, but I’m starting to worry,” said Willow, refilling her glass as well. “I’m wondering if we should get an MRI on that head of yours.”
“Don’t worry, Will. It doesn’t feel any different than it ever has. Nothing’s changed…except when I’m in there.”
“Okay. But I can arrange it in North Conway or at Dartmouth whenever you say the word. No one needs to know.” She paused and placed her hand over Darcy’s. “Who do you think it is? Who’s inside with you?”
Darcy had no answer for her friend, so she shrugged. In twenty years, she had never seen another person when she went inside. Her mind amended the thought.Maybe you haven’tseenanother person, but you’ve certainlyheardone.
And lately, shefeltsomeone. She knew someone was there, watching, waiting.
Darcy gestured to the two empty chairs at the small round table. “Who do you think these chairs are for?”
“For us.”
Darcy and Willow looked up simultaneously to see Darcy’s brother, Amory, standing over their table. Darcy smiled at her brother, shielding her eyes from the bright sun, then noticing, for the first time, the figure standing beside her brother, who stepped in front of the sun like a solar eclipse, blocking the light, but somehow not the warmth.
