Conversation

On Friday, after she had recovered somewhat from her jet lag, Sylvia sought Catherine out. At the time, Phoebe and Trelawney were playing with the dollhouse. They were both very happy about Hal's sabbatical. Catherine and Rob were pretty happy as well. They were both hopeful that once Hal had spent some real, quality family time with her and the children that he would never allow himself to get so caught up in his work again. In fact, right now, Hal was completing the decoration of Phoebe's old room as the nursery. The wallpapering was done and he was painting the trim.

Despite the fact that Sylvia wanted to spend time with the girls, she also knew that they needed their time alone. Catherine knew that it was their time as well and let them be. And she was pleased to have the opportunity to get to know another Figalilly better. Rob was out at the theatre putting the finishing touches on the toymaker's shop set for the ballet, so they would not be disturbed. Sylvia wanted to talk about Aunt Henrietta.

"She really is bonkers," she said bluntly. "I'd like to avoid her myself, but I have no doubt that she'll be summoning me once she knows that I'm here. Old Lew got off easy, popping in and out before she was even aware that he was in town."

"Yes," replied Catherine. "I guess that he did. Your father told Rob to toss her out of the house if she came by, but I am afraid of what she might say before we got her out the door."

"Well," said Sylvia. "It's clear to me that one way or another, she's decided that Phoebe and Trelawney Rose are going to find out about her messages from the great beyond. I just wish that she'd leave poor Auntie Meg out of it. The very idea that she would want the girls separated is ludicrous. She certainly made enough people back home promise to keep them together."

"That's true, now that I think of it," said Catherine thoughtfully. "And it seems as though every time we turn around, another promise made by another person comes to light."

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" answered Sylvia with a smile. "And it does seem that Auntie Meg anticipated that such issues might occur. Like all of us she was very prescient. But I have noticed that none of the Trelawneys seem to have made any of those kinds of promises."

"Or Grandfather Trelawney has scared them into keeping their mouths shut," replied Catherine. "It's hard to fathom that he is also your grandfather, but you have no trouble standing up to him."

"It's your father's family that counts in our world," she replied with a shrug. "I, we, give Grandfather the respect that's due him as our grandfather, but it's to Dad, as head of the Figalillys that we owe our allegiance and obedience. I know that this will sound archaic to you, but in family matters he basically tells us what to think. Of course not our Christabel anymore, she's married into the Chenowiths. So she's one of them now. You know she's due to have another little nipper in the fall as well."

"No," said Catherine. "We didn't know. I suppose that we've been so caught up in the girls' issues that we haven't thought much about the rest of the family. However, I always look forward to learning more."

Sylvia smiled. "I can guarantee that you'll never learn enough to satisfy your curiosity, if only because there is really just so much to learn. Remember this. You only need to know as much as you need to know at any given time. For the rest of it, let go and let God."

"I'm guessing that you're not an agnostic like Emmeline," commented Catherine drily.

"Humph!" said Sylvia with a touch of scorn. "Emmeline's a cool one, she is. Part of all that rot is about needling Mum and Dad. She thinks that she's so worldly, she does. It's more like arrogance if you ask me. She and Liam are quite a pair, they are. It's good really, that she doesn't have his temper as well."

"We've heard about his temper," said Catherine. "Is it really true that he would kill Cholmondeley if he saw the need?"

"I'm surprised that he hasn't done it all ready," she answered. "We were all home, all six of us when Aunts Agatha and Justine returned. Most of the other family was too. Trelawneys were there as well. Of course Liam's fury was nothing like Grandfather's. I'm surprised that the poor old devil didn't have a stroke on the spot. He's really a bit crazy himself when it comes to Trelawney Rose."

"Lewis told us," replied Catherine. "Could the girl really be your Grandmother Rose come back to life?"

"I don't think so," said Sylvia slowly. "It's really not likely at all. Looks are more genes and coincidence than anything else. When I saw her after not seeing her in over a year I was struck by the growing resemblance with her Mum, God rest her soul. Then again, Auntie Meg knew that she was coming and waited years for her, long before Grandmother Rose passed away, God rest her soul.

"And of course she couldn't be Auntie Meg come back to life despite the even closer resemblance. But there are all sorts of family resemblances. There always are, you know. When they were growing up, there were those who didn't know them that mistook Phoebe and Em for twins. It's just one of those things."

"Yes," said Catherine. "I suppose that it is."

"It's a pity that Aunt Henrietta's premonitions are so full of layers and confusion," said Sylvia. "It makes it all very difficult to sort out."

"And the more difficult it is for us to sort out," added Catherine. "The more stressful it is for Phoebe."

"Yes it is," replied Sylvia. "I have to admit that what concerns me most are the three lives hanging in the balance. Bad luck and bad karma are one thing, but the idea that three may be in mortal danger is quite disturbing."

"And you have no idea of who the three might be?" asked Catherine.

"Do you?" answered Sylvia with a sigh. "It's hard to say if any of those others mentioned elsewhere are overlaps with the three. The ranting and raving are also a source of concern if it's not theatrics. While I don't want to see her making a ruckus, seeing her myself would probably tell us the truth. There's ways of knowing if she's all smoke and mirrors as usual or not. Phoebe or Trelawney Rose would know, but they shouldn't go near her. Who knows what she'd say that would start more trouble?"

"But if it is not the smoke and mirrors," asked Catherine. "Could there be real danger for the girls?"

"It's too hard to say," commented Sylvia. "But I do think that Phoebe has the right idea. It's better if she just puts it out of her mind and allows us to worry about it. It's not good for the baby. Have you told Trelawney Rose anything?"

"No," said Catherine. "And her contact with the outside world is so limited now that chances of her hearing about it are pretty slim."

"Unless she discerns it from your minds," replied Sylvia.

"Yes, well, like Phoebe almost all of her focus is on the baby when she is not thinking about the play," answered Catherine. "The distractions are good. She has finally put on some weight and is beginning to fill out. She doesn't need to start worrying again."

"Yes, poor dear," said Sylvia. "Bit if irony there you know. Trelawney Rose needs to put up more weight; Phoebe needs to take it off. Poor child has had to worry about many things that the average twelve year old doesn't. It's a pity. It would be nice to see her behave more like a child. She concerns herself too much with adult matters. But she does have a heart of gold."

"And I do think that her ability to retreat into her own fantasies helps her to cope," said Catherine. "She may be a little fey, but it does serve to protect her from the storms of life. And it really does make it difficult for others to dislike her."

"But there are those that do," replied Sylvia. "Still, it's mostly those that like to hide behind masks rather than show their true selves. Trelawney Rose's second sight means that she sees past the deception. However it does seem to me that she's been using this for the good recently. Phoebe told me about her role in getting the children's grandmother to first accept her, and then the baby."

"Yes, that is certainly true," said Catherine. "While the rest of us were busy being angry with her because she was so hurtful to Phoebe, Trelawney saw that Bernice was hurting more than anyone. I thought at first that it was odd that she accepted Bernice so uncritically. She is extremely protective of Phoebe."

"Yes," said Sylvia. "But our wise little girl knew that it was best for the whole family, especially Phoebe who felt so guilty, to reconcile the grandmother with the children. Our Trelawney Rose is good through and through. And that kind of goodness in this world is very fragile. To destroy Trelawney Rose would be something akin to destroying goodness itself. That's why we in the family are so protective of her. She is our hope that goodness can endure despite the evils of this world."

"And Aunt Henrietta?"

"Is a silly, old fool at best," replied Sylvia. "And a gullible tool of forces that she does not understand, at worst. She truly loves Phoebe very dearly and means no harm. In fact, in her own pathetic way, she may even think that she's protecting her. But she has no clue as to what she wants to protect her from or that perhaps it might even be her own words."

"Therefore," said Catherine. "To use one of your words, we have quite a "muddle" on our hands."

"Yes, indeed," answered Sylvia with a smile. "But in the end it will unravel itself as these things do when given enough time. And if we keep a sharp lookout for trouble, the premonitions will probably turn out to be nothing more than a nuisance."

"So we go on with our lives, and keep up our guard," said Catherine.

"That's about it," replied Sylvia. "If you stop to think about it, life is full of perils large and small everyday. We can't live every moment in fear."

"So we just let go and let God," said Catherine.

Sylvia smiled. "As our little Trelawney Rose does, at least consciously. It's the nightmares that prey on her sleep that are most worrying. But she hasn't had a bad spell of them in a while. That's an indication that all is changing for the better, but we must not become complacent."

Catherine knew that she was pleased by the present state of things. And she was pleased to know Sylvia. She was the first of Phoebe's relatives that she had met when they were not under some point of duress. Other than being exceptionally wise for her age, she was a perfectly lovely and normal young woman. In that way, she reminded her of Pastor Jason.

Gifts

After Sylvia had spoken with Catherine, she went looking for Phoebe. She found her with Trelawney Rose in her room. Trelawney Rose was reading to her and Maisie from a book. If the girl weren't so abnormally cognizant of the child, she might have thought it was charming. But Lewis had told her to be on the watch for the child's connections with the unborn baby.

He had sensed them, but had not had enough time to really explore them. Everything that she had observed so far between the two sisters had confirmed his intuition. There was no doubt in her mind that Trelawney Rose and Maisie recognized each other, knew each other, and were even looking forward to actually meeting each other. While it was something that she would have expected from Trelawney Rose, it was most startling to find it in Phoebe's child who had been conceived with an outsider. This child promised to be most unusual.

There was no doubt that this was a fated child. Emmeline had tried to assure them of that, but with Emmeline you never knew. Dad had also believed it, but still wasn't entirely sure. Trelawney Rose had most certainly been a fated child as well. There were many in the family who believed that Phoebe and Trelawney Rose were both children of light. Everything that Trelawney had said about her parents since they had passed indicated this. But Maisie was another story. She appeared to have a great deal in common with Trelawney Rose.

It was impossible to know. But she had two things for Phoebe that her own Mum had sent her. She asked Phoebe to join her in her room. After she had closed the door, she took out the smallish, flat box.

"What is this?" asked Phoebe.

"Open it and see," replied Sylvia. "Mum sent it along because she knew that you would want it."

Smiling, Phoebe opened the box. She caught her breath as she pulled out the beautiful white gown.

"It's the christening gown!" she said, her voice full of emotion. "It's the dress that Grandmother Rose made for me. The last time I saw it was when Trelawney Rose wore it nearly twelve years ago."

She cradled it in her arms, sat down on the bed, and wept. Sylvia knew that there was nothing that she could say or do to comfort her. Sitting beside her, she put her arm around her and let her cry. Mum had known that it would be painful for her to see it, but Auntie Meg had once told Mum that she had promised Grandmother Rose that she would be sure that her granddaughters, as well as her daughters, wore it. Mum had known that Auntie herself had planned to give it to Phoebe when her first daughter was born. Since she was aware of the intention, Mum had carried it out.

"Mum knew that Auntie Meg wanted you to have it," answered Sylvia, her own voice full of emotion. "While she of course never promised to give it to you, knowing her intention, she wanted to carry it out. The promise that the granddaughters would wear it was made to Grandmother Rose."

"I don't know if I can ever thank Auntie Anna enough," said Phoebe.

"When I tell her of your tears," replied Sylvia softly. "It will be thanks enough. Today you're crying tears of sadness, because by all that's right and proper, your Mum should have been able to give it to you herself. But when you dress your daughter in it for the christening, they will be tears of joy. Our Grandmother Rose stitched every stitch with love in her heart. We have one as well that Christabel used for our Libby. All our girls are blessed by their great-grandmother when they wear it."

Phoebe nodded, obviously caught without words for such a sacred moment. This was a precious gift, not only from her Mum, but also from her Grandmother Rose. It was another heirloom, like the wedding dress, to be passed down. But Sylvia was not done.

"Phoebe, this is a letter that Mum wrote to you," she said. "She knew that you were far from home with none of the mothers of our kind to talk to. And most certainly Em and I can tell you nothing. Without your own dear Mum to write her own letter to you, she's done it herself. It's all the little things that you will want to know about your child that even your loving Catherine can't tell you."

Phoebe silently held the envelope in her hand. Sylvia got up.

"I'll leave you alone to read it," she said. "But be careful of what you do with it. It would never do for outsiders to learn of this. Someday, you will tell Trelawney Rose what she needs to know."

"Does that mean that Trelawney . . ." she began.

"Only God knows, love," replied Sylvia quietly and left.

After she left the room, she took a deep breath. She had known that Phoebe's reaction would be emotional, but had not been aware of how deeply painful it would be for her to see that dress again. It was a pity, because it meant that she was not yet done with the worst of her grieving. In all probability, she had been so concerned with the girl, her husband, and the baby that she hadn't taken the time that she needed to grieve herself.

She shook herself out of her thoughts when she saw Trelawney Rose in the hall waiting patiently for her. She had a knowing look on her face.

"Phoebe indeed has not done with her grieving," said Trelawney Rose very softly, and then indicated that she wanted her to come into her room.

"So then, you know what that was about?" asked Sylvia when she had closed the door.

Trelawney Rose nodded.

"I know more than any of them," she replied. "But I cannot say. It is not allowed."

Sylvia nodded. Those such as Trelawney Rose must be very careful of what they revealed to others. The simpler the mind, the expansive the knowledge it held. Those such as Trelawney Rose were indeed very intelligent, but if they became too acquainted with modern sorts of knowledge and ways of thinking, they would lose their sense of second sight.

If that happened, her deep connection with the universal consciousness would be lost. It would be a great pity indeed. In a very real way she would lose herself. Her innocence and lack of sophistication was her shield. It was difficult to explain to outsiders, but for her to truly understand the complexity of the outside world, she would have to lose her understanding of the other world, the world of light and darkness.

"My Phoebe is quite sad, you see," she said simply. "When she is with us all, she feels happy. She loves the Professor and the children. She loves the family who now surround her; she is truly one of them. She loves me, and all our relatives. But, my poor sweet, there is a hole in her heart, an emptiness that cannot be filled."

Sylvia looked at her and noticed that the clear blue of her calm aura was deepening to violet, the color of spirituality and inspiration, even as they were speaking. It was very unusual for such a young person to have this deep connection with the spiritual world. As she looked into her sky blue eyes, she could see the wisdom of the ages. This soul had lived many journeys.

"Yes, Sylvia, I have lived many journeys," she said with an ethereal note in her sweet voice. "This may be my last. I am a child of light, and so is Phoebe. Mum and Papa have made their final journey home. They now reside among the angels. There are no more dark nights for them."

"Trelawney Rose, do you know why Aunt Henrietta is here?" asked Sylvia carefully.

"She thinks that she knows why she is here, but she does not know," replied the girl, not answering the question.

"Why does she think that she is here?" asked Sylvia, following her lead.

"She believes that she is here to bring me home to Grandfather," she answered. "He thinks that I am one who I am not."

"Do you know why she is really here?"

"No," said Trelawney Rose, shaking her head. "It is not allowed."

"Do you know of the premonitions, the ones that you are not supposed to know?" asked Sylvia curiously.

"Yes, I do," she said. "Francine told me a long time ago. She is afraid for me."

"Are you afraid?"

"No," she said. "The good queen protects Trelawney. She also protects the lovely lady and the fair maiden. But the brave knight must now do his part. Danger stalks the fair maiden at this very point in time. But fear not, fate has given the brave knight a right path. If he follows it, all will be safe. The wise gentleman knows, but he does not know that he knows. The wise gentleman protects us all."

"Trelawney Rose, why is there no good king in this place?" she asked.

"The good king is here, but he does not know that he is here," she said simply.

Sylvia looked at her and for the first time noticed that she had assumed her posture of wisdom. She was standing very straight, with her hands neatly folded in front of her. Looking at her neatly dressed in her jumper and white blouse, with her hair carefully plaited in two braids she looked any proper English schoolgirl. Her face was relaxed and in repose, her eyes were shining as if she saw things that no one else could see. And then, barely discernible in the purple glow of her aura, for a brief moment, Sylvia saw the twinkling white lights.

But then the girl tossed her head and laughed, very much like herself again.

"Cousin Sylvia," she said sweetly. "May you not tell anyone of my knowledge? It would be most disturbing for my poor Phoebe. And that would make my dear Maisie very sad indeed. We want them to be happy now, don't we?"

"Yes, I promise, little love," she replied instantly. She knew that what she had just seen and heard would disturb her cousin very much. But oddly, on a level that she could in no way understand, she herself felt at peace. And now she knew why Aunt Henrietta wanted her to go home to England. Or at least she thought that she did.

"Yes, you are probably right," said the child nodding. "Poor Aunt Henrietta. She is a silly old faker and means no harm. Would you like to see if Mama Kate has lunch for us?"

"One moment, Trelawney Rose," she said, taking her arm before she could leave.

"Yes, Sylvia?" she inquired.

"May I tell them of the good king?" she asked.

"If you like," she replied. "But it won't matter a bit."

As she went skipping out of the room, Sylvia went over to the rocking chair and sat down to collect herself. Things made more sense now. But the more she knew, the less she understood. And she couldn't even speak of most of what she had just learned. Moreover she could not even be sure about the little white lights. And that was the most important thing of all, perhaps. They must all now be on the lookout for the good king.

Words from Afar

Phoebe sat down on the bed in the guest room to read Auntie Anna's letter. She looked at the handwriting on the envelope and was struck, as she always was, by the similarity of her handwriting with her mother's. But that made sense since they had both learned their penmanship at the same school. Like Trelawney's it was soft and curving, like copperplate. Her own penmanship was more angular and less rounded. It was more distinctive and less like the style that she had been taught to imitate in the copybook.

Carefully she slit the envelope open with her fingernail and unfolded the creamy white stationary.

Dear Phoebe,

I have given this letter to Sylvia to hand over directly to your own person. You must be very careful to let no one else read it, not even your dear Trelawney Rose. I know that you have been yearning for your Mum whose joy and duty it should have been to tell you all the little things that a woman of our race, carrying a child should know. As the sister who was closest to your Mum, both in age and spirit, I will now take this duty upon myself. It is a sacred duty. As your little Trelawney Rose is now also without a Mum, it will be your duty, as her older sister, to tell her these things if and when the time comes. But that foreknowledge is only in the mind of God.

I also know that if you had returned to the village and married Cholmondeley, then it would probably have fallen to me to tell you. What I can tell you is only from my own experience, as one who married within our race, and what I have heard about others who have married an outsider. But I have never spoken to such a woman myself. Of what I have heard, the difference is quite simple. If your child is not fated, then your experience will be like that of an ordinary mother.

You will love the child as you carry her close to your heart. You will feel her move when she is active. As the time of birth approaches, you will feel her move less. Do not worry. It is simply that she has less space to move. She will know your voice and probably her father's as well. You will love this child with all your heart and protect her at all costs.

If your child is fated or of pure lineage, then she will feel your emotions and she will respond to them. You will feel her little joys and sorrows. She will try to comfort you when you are sad. She will rejoice when you do as well, and you will feel her movement in response. She will not merely know her father's voice. She will also know his touch. You will feel her kick when she feels his hand upon your belly. You will know no closer bond in your life, until she is born. For after our children are born, they slowly separate themselves from us and grow into their own persons.

You may feel a pang of sadness when this begins to happen and then you will yearn for another child. It is why our families are so big. We bear our children until we are content with the brood around us. Your Mum was different. First she ached for you and then for Trelawney Rose. You are both most desired and loved children. It is why you are both capable of loving so deeply and so many. You learned this from your Mum from the very moment you were conceived.

Many outsiders do not wish to believe this, but we of our race know the truth. When the father plants the seed within the mother, the soul makes its descent to become the living being. Young Trelawney Rose loves as few others. She waited a long time for the moment when she was granted the freedom to break from the heavenly sphere and make her way to your mother.

Meg told me when she was pregnant with the little one that it was different than with you. She believed that it was because she had been desired for so long that she felt the spark of life the instant that she was present within her. From my own experience, I can tell you that I never knew so soon. But she knew that Trelawney Rose was special from that moment. And the child was always aware of what was happening in the world around her. Yes, dear Phoebe, I suspect that even then she was a little fey.

When the time comes for your child to be born into the world, you will know before the pains start. If you are well and healthy, let her be born into your home. She will know the difference between home and hospital. Children of our race who are born in hospital are also more fearful than most. They need the security of the loving home, with their family about them, from the first. They miss the safety of their mother's womb more than the others do.

You saw your own Trelawney Rose born and that was a difficult birth. As old Mrs. Pengally, God rest her soul, said at the time, the little one didn't want to leave your Mum. Now that we know her, we understand why. But your children should come more easily into the world, as mine all did. As you know, those such as Trelawney are very rare indeed. You cannot expect to see another in our family within your lifetime.

Now, Phoebe dear, I have a warning. While you are carrying your child, your senses towards the outside world and connection with the universal consciousness will fade for a time. Your focus will be centered almost entirely on your child. This is how it should be. It is a very dangerous time for you both. You will not be as aware the things around you that could be trouble. Let those that love you, care for you. They will keep you safe if you let them.

Finally, if you feel all the wonderful bonds and emotions that a child of our race feels, then rejoice. But if you do not, remember that it is because she will be like her father, in whom you have chosen to entrust your very body and soul. I hope to meet him some day. He sounds like a very good and loving man. I also hope that when your Uncle David returns for the christening, that I will travel with him.

I miss you and dear Trelawney Rose both. When the time comes for your babe to make her entrance into the world, I know that you will feel your dear Mum and Papa with you. Do not be afraid. They will be the angels by your side, sent by our Father, to guide your little one from within your body to lie in your loving arms.

May God bless you and keep you, my darling niece. I will be praying for you each day.

Love, Your Own Auntie Anna

Phoebe dropped the letter in her lap. She felt limp after having passed through a myriad of emotions as she read the words. Within her, she could feel her child responding as well. The gentle movement was soothing, for now she knew that it was true that the child knew her mind. Her dear Maisie, the child who was named before she was conceived, was indeed a fated child. She rested her hand on her growing belly and felt the little kick in response.

But as the emotions wore off, she suddenly realized that she was hungry. It was time to go down and try not to overeat. It was a pity that she liked food so much.

The Big Day

The day of the dance recital had finally arrived and there was not a single person in the family who was not ready for it to be over and done with. Prudence had been talking about it nonstop for more than a week. Hal was pleased that his semester's work was done and he was able to spend more time at home. But more time at home meant more time to listen to Prudence and watch her dancing her little dance over and over. The dance instructor had given her a cassette tape to practice with and she played it so many times, that his son Butch had finally stolen it.

However, he had taken it too late. Prudence had memorized the music so that she could sing the tune it to herself as she danced. And this she did loudly. The only one who had any patience for it was Trelawney. Thankfully she was able to play the tune by ear, so Prudence was able to go up to Mother's house to practice. Mother didn't mind, but Dad thought that he would go out of his mind.

He attempted to bribe Butch into returning the tape, but he couldn't sway his mercenary little heart with any amount of money (he stopped trying at five dollars). Then Hal told him that he had told Butch that he would best any amount of money that Grampie offered by a dollar. Just when he thought that Butch had learned that everything didn't have to have a price, his hopes were dashed. He guessed that that was what he got for naming him after his brother Ben.

On Saturday morning, Prudence was pounding on their door at six am. She wasn't due for her call until one pm, but she didn't want to be late. It was unusual, but this time it was Phoebe who told her to go away and let them sleep. Hal had noticed that Phoebe had been in a funny mood since yesterday afternoon. She seemed to have closed up inside of herself. He would have been more worried, but Trelawney told him to let her be.

"Don't worry, Professor," she had told him. "Since you've been to the doctor she's been thinking on things and missing our Mum. When she is ready to tell you she will."

"Can I do anything for her?" he asked.

She smiled as she always did when he asked for her advice about her sister.

"Love her."

He should have known better than to ask, but in the end decided that it was the best and probably the only advice that she could give. So when they came home that night and the children were asleep in bed, he took her in his arms. She clung to him and he held her close. He could tell that she wasn't looking for passion, but his gentle care. He settled her so that she was comfortably curled up in his arms and softly stroked her hair. He told her the many ways that he loved her until her breathing fell into an even pattern and then he fell asleep himself.

In the morning he was very glad that he had locked the door anyway, because it reduced Prudence's efforts at waking them up to knocking, incessantly, and calling. Fortunately, she also woke up Hal, who told them not to worry. When they got up a few hours later, they discovered that he had given her breakfast and set her down in front of the television to watch the Saturday morning cartoons, a forbidden indulgence.

But when he asked him about it, Hal shrugged and inquired if he would have preferred to hear her practicing. Gratefully, Hal thanked him for his brilliant mind and offered to repay him the six dollars that he had given Butch. But Hal just laughed and said that he didn't do it for money. It was just one of those things that big brothers did. As he walked away, Hal noticed that he looked like he had put on another inch. He was damn proud of the kid and was going to miss him when he went away to Cal Tech in a few weeks.

By 2:15, the family was all seated in the community theatre. They made a formidable presence with the four grandparents, Hal, Butch, Trelawney, Francine, Sylvia, Phoebe, and himself. Bernice had brought a large bouquet of flowers that she planned to present to Prudence after the show. In addition, she carefully carried another small gift in her purse. Despite everyone's curiosity, she refused to say what it was. Hal also noticed that she had taken an extra program and was carefully putting it away. Trelawney asked her about it.

"At home," she explained. "I have a collection of all the programs from all of Helen's dance recitals with a picture of her dressed in her costume. Tom has the little Kodak camera so that we can take a picture of Prudence today. I plan to start another collection of Prudence's recitals."

"What a lovely idea!" said Phoebe. "I am sure that you must treasure them."

"Yes, I do," agreed Bernice. "They've been a great comfort for . . . the past few years. I am very pleased that I will be able to continue the practice with Prudence. In later years, it will give her a sense of continuity with her mother's life."

"Yes, it will," replied Phoebe, thinking of the cradle and the christening gown and the connection that they gave her to her own parents. Catherine had told her that Helen had not appreciated such things, but it was clear that Bernice did. Trelawney caught her eye and sagely nodded.

Hal noticed the glance that passed between them. He had suspected that Trelawney had had something to do with the Williams' appearance at last week's ballgame. Now he was sure of it. It then occurred to him that Trelawney was beginning to use her intuitive gifts for good rather than mischief. He watched as his mother lovingly smoothed back the golden curls that had begun to escape from her ponytail. Mother truly had taken the girl into her heart. He was glad for them both.

Once the ballet began, it was very entertaining to watch. It also had a very definite beginning and ending point. Prudence's previous recitals had been a seemingly endless collection of "numbers" performed by dancers of all ages and in several genres. But this performance was ninety minutes in length. It was even a humorous story. He even once caught Butch laughing in spite of himself.

Prudence did very well. First she had to sit very still in the toymaker's shop and then allow him to pick her up and wind her up to dance. The dance number was then a combination of different dolls dancing at different times as well as together. He could now see why Prudence had wanted to practice so much. She was the youngest "doll" on stage and there was a bit of complex timing involved.

He also suspected that his father's work on the set might have influenced the casting choice. After all, that was how these things generally worked. But Prudence didn't know any better. After seeing Hal and Butch's successes, she wanted to have her own bit of recognition. He was glad that she now had it.

After the show, there were the usual rounds of hugs, kisses, and congratulations. Prudence was delighted by the lovely flowers. Many of the other girls were receiving flowers from their families, so Hal was glad that Bernice had known about the tradition. Prudence would certainly have noticed if she did not have her own bouquet. She then insisted on driving back to Mother's with her Nana and Papa in their car.

Once there, Bernice brought out the picture of Helen dressed as "Coppelia" for her to see. Everyone "oohed" and "aahed" over the pretty costume. Sylvia noted that Helen had the looks of a classic Balanchine ballerina. Bernice was pleased with the comparison. Hal of course, had no idea of what she was talking about.

"Do you have more pictures of my Angel Mommy dressed up as a dancer?" asked Prudence.

"Yes, dear," replied Bernice. "But they are at home."

"Oh," said Prudence, looking disappointed. "Will I ever get to see them?"

"You may see them the next time you visit," promised Bernice. "Now I have a little something for you to remember your first real ballet performance with."

She took the small package from her handbag and carefully placed it in Prudence's hands.

"Be very careful when you unwrap it," she said. "It's very fragile and very special."

Carefully, Prudence undid the wrapping and the ribbon and then opened the box and pulled out an object wrapped in tissue. As she undid the tissue, a beautiful china figure of a ballerina emerged, carefully balanced in a pirouette. Hal noticed a small key on the side. It was a lovely music box, but clearly not a brand new one. With tears in her eyes Bernice explained.

"This is Aurora, from Tchaikovsky's ballet "The Sleeping Beauty," she said softly. "Many years ago, your mother danced in that ballet as a little fairy. It was her first recital. My mother, your great-grandmother, gave her this box to remember it. I have saved it all these years, but I know that she would want you to have it now."

"Thank you, Nana," breathed Prudence. "This is one of the best gifts that I ever got. And I didn't even wish for it, because I didn't know that I wanted it."

Everyone was very moved by the sweet gesture of the grandmother on behalf of the mother. No one knew what to say. But his son Hal decided to break the tension with one of his little jabs at Trelawney.

"Geez, Prudence," he said rolling his eyes. "Now you're really starting to sound like Trelawney."

Everyone laughed, but Bernice said seriously, "Everyone should be so kind and thoughtful as little Trelawney. Could you come here for a minute, child?"

Trelawney walked over and stood in front of her. Gently grasping her shoulders, Bernice gave her a kiss on each cheek.

"Thank you, little one," she said. "You do not know the joy that you have returned to my life."

Trelawney smiled and bowed her head. Hal suspected that she did know.

Later that evening, as he and Phoebe were tucking Prudence into bed, she asked if she could hear the music box play one more time. Sighing, Hal turned the key. It seemed that they now had another endless tune to listen to.

Wishes

Catherine insisted that the next day belong to Trelawney. She knew that the child had very generously orchestrated Prudence's big day, the day before. As always, she was impressed by the perceptiveness of the little girl. What had made the day truly special for Prudence was not being the center of attention, but the very real bond that she was beginning to build with the mother she had never known. Bernice was never going to be her own favorite person, but she could see the very positive and healthy role that she was playing in Prudence's life at this time.

Just as Phoebe was becoming absorbed in her own child, Bernice was building a connection with Prudence. Perhaps Prudence would no longer relentlessly pursue Phoebe's attention, now that she had her Nana to shower her with the love and affection that she so desperately wanted and needed. As always, it now seemed, Trelawney seemed to know exactly what was best for all of them. She asked Sylvia about it.

"Yes," replied the younger woman. "This is another sign that our little Trelawney Rose is growing up. In this way, she is very much like Phoebe. One day, a very difficult decision will have to be made with regard to the girl's future. The ability that she is showing to make those things that were wrong with people right is one that is best used by one who roams. But those such as her are more likely to stay at home."

"What do you think will happen?" asked Catherine.

"I cannot say," said Sylvia. "There is no way to know. For now you will love and protect her. The future will take care of itself."

"And Aunt Henrietta?"

"We must keep her away," replied Sylvia gravely. "She does not understand Trelawney Rose one bit. And what she does not understand, she may destroy. There are larger forces at work that she does not understand. They use her ignorance as a weapon."

"Oh," said Catherine. This was nothing new. But Sylvia, after a few minutes of thought, seemed to have made a decision.

"Catherine, Trelawney Rose has added another character to her landscape of archetypes. Phoebe told me that you were the one who made sense of them in the first place."

"Yes," replied Catherine. "I know enough about medieval tales and Carl Jung to understand it."

"Good," she said. "I asked Trelawney Rose why there was no good king in this place."

"Yes, Emmeline told us that back home the good king was her father," answered Catherine.

"Yes," replied Sylvia. "She told me that as well. But when I asked her about it, the girl told me that the good king is here but he does not know that he is here."

"Well that makes sense, if you know Trelawney. It seems that most people are here but they do not know that they are here before they do know that they are here. But it is not Rob," said Catherine. "Rob is the wise gentleman."

"I know that," Sylvia smiled. "She told me. The question now is, who is the good king?"

"I have no idea," said Catherine. "And I know that it is useless to ask. Most of the time, she will use these names and then we must figure them out. In the case of the good queen, she didn't know herself when she first heard of her. And of course I didn't know until she hinted at it. That time for once, my son Hal figured it out."

"Yes, I suppose that that is the way that it is," replied Sylvia. "But the good king is critical to the protection of the fair maiden and the lovely lady. I hope that we can discover who he is before Phoebe gives birth. By the way, she is not giving up on the idea of a home birth. In fact she feels more strongly about it than ever."

"I was afraid of that," sighed Catherine. "Yesterday when she was talking to Bernice, she was hinting around at it. It worries me."

"Why is that?" asked Sylvia. "At home, healthy women give birth in their own beds all the time. Now I know that you all have more technology here, but giving birth doesn't really require a lot of that."

"My concern is with the skill of the doctor involved," replied Catherine. "Since almost no one gives birth at home anymore in this part of the States, I can't think that we could even find someone with enough experience to safely deliver a child."

"Well, I will warn you to start thinking about it," said Sylvia. "She'll not give up on the idea easily.

That's too bad, thought Catherine. Hopefully she won't find anyone who is willing to risk it.

Later in the day, Francine and Sarah arrived for Trelawney's little celebration. Sarah was driven over by Topher, who was also asked to stay. One look from Trelawney and he couldn't say no. In addition, Mike came over with his mother and brother Tim. Tim was there in deference to Butch's wishes. He had been strenuously objecting to two days in a row of family time. And then, as a special surprise, Rob went out to pick up Mr. Just Jim, Mrs. Kaufman, Aunt Lottie, and Mrs. Darmstadt from the nursing home.

Looking around the backyard at the odd collection of guests, Sylvia was amused.

"Leave it to our Trelawney Rose!" she commented. "She's friends with young and old alike. And knowing her, she doesn't see the difference."

"No, she doesn't," said Catherine. "I do feel bad for poor, little Sarah though. Francine and Trelawney will be leaving her behind in public school when they go to Our Lady of Mercy in the fall."

"Why is that?" asked Sylvia curiously.

"As I understand it," replied Catherine. "Lois could get her into the school, but Sarah's parents can't afford the tuition. Topher is off to college in a year and there are twin sisters right behind him, as well as two little girls younger than Sarah. Mr. Tucker makes a good living as a mechanic, but six children are a lot to feed and clothe. The focus now is on Topher. He is going to be the first in his family to go to college. They want all the children college educated, so that's where the money will go."

"What a pity," said Sylvia thoughtfully. "Now you say that the woman Lois is mixed up in all this?"

"Yes, but mixed up in a good way," explained Catherine. "She went to school there. Because she has no daughters of her own, she sponsored Francine and Trelawney. We needed a little bit of influence since the school does not normally accept the girls at eighth grade. Seventh and ninth grade yes, but not eighth. However the situation was such, as you know, that we needed to start her there in the fall."

"And you say that but for the money, Sarah could go too?"

"That's about it," replied Catherine as she walked inside to prepare some hors d'oeuvres. As she left, she didn't notice that Sylvia was making her way over to Lois.

The gift giving was very simple. Rob and the boys had built another bookcase because the one that they had made for Trelawney for Christmas was overflowing and she would be getting more books today. Rob had also made a lovely canopied bed for Tessa complete with bedding sewn by Catherine, Phoebe, and Prudence.

Sylvia's gift was very special. It was the etui that had been Meg's back at home. Trelawney was very moved when she saw it. It looked handcrafted with soft fabric, beautifully embroidered on the outside. Most certainly her mother, who was a gifted seamstress herself, used it everyday. Forgetting everything else, she held it on her lap and gently smoothed the cover.

"Your Mum wanted you to have it, love," Sylvia explained. "She left a letter with Mum expressing those things that she especially wanted you and Phoebe to have for yourselves. Now I have something for Phoebe."

Rob and Hal carefully brought out the heavy crate that she had carried with her from England. Using a hammer, Rob pried the lid off to reveal the tightly packed bedding. Sylvia gingerly lifted out a large item on top and handed it to Phoebe.

"Open it slowly, love," she warned. "It's very delicate."

As the layers of wrap slowly came off, Catherine realized that it was something made of porcelain. Then, when it was completely uncovered, she saw that it was a beautiful blue and white delft teapot. It was exquisitely crafted with scenes of ships and the sea that were clearly hand painted. Phoebe gazed at it, speechless. Trelawney filled in the silence.

"It's Grandmother Figalilly's tea set," she said in wonder. "It has cups and saucers and a creamer and a sugar bowl. There is also a set of silver teaspoons. Mum got it when Grandmother died, because Papa was the oldest son. Everyday when I returned home from school, Mum and I would sit and have tea using it. It's very precious, but Mum said that such a set was not for display but for use."

"Mum and I also had tea with it everyday when I returned home from school," said Phoebe, who had finally found her voice.

"Well, I have never seen anything so lovely," said Mrs. Kaufman. "You're a very lucky girl to have so many beautiful things to pass along from your family."

"Yes, I am," replied Phoebe. "Thank you, Sylvia. Trelawney and I have many happy memories associated with this tea set."

"You should thank Mum and Dad. She gave him the letter of bequests," answered Sylvia. "He knows that your Mum would want you to have these things to enjoy, but with the baby coming it will be a while before you can travel home to collect them."

"Yes, it will," said Phoebe.

Catherine smiled and offered more drinks before dinner. It was a jolly meal. Trelawney was a good sport about everyone singing "Happy Birthday" to her. When they were done with the cake, she went inside with a group who wanted to hear her play the piano.

With Sylvia and Lois's help, Catherine began to clean up. From the kitchen, they could hear Trelawney playing a lighthearted piece by Chopin. Rob, Hal, and the boys had just finished cleaning up the yard, when the music stopped. Suddenly on guard, Sylvia rapidly led the way into the living room.

There with Mrs. Fowler, who must have come to pick up Francine, was Aunt Henrietta. Catherine felt every muscle in her body tense. She saw her son Hal bolt over to sit beside Phoebe on the couch and put his arm around her. Trelawney had stood up from the piano and was calmly facing her aunt.

They made a stark contrast, Aunt Henrietta with her colorful flowing scarves and Trelawney with her simple pink and white dress; the very large and imposing woman, and the small, slender girl; the colorful turban, and the flowing blonde curls held back from her face with a simple pink ribbon. Elspeth had planted herself in front of the girl and was viciously growling. Catherine had never seen the dog look so threatening, even when Cousin John had been there.

"Heel, girl," said Trelawney firmly.

The dog instantly responded, but remained at attention.

"I have birthday greetings from your parents," said Aunt Henrietta dramatically.

Without losing her composure, Trelawney inclined her head.

"Your dearest parents wish you a most happy birthday," she said with a grand sweep of her arm. "But their wish for you is that you return home to your Grandfather Trelawney."

No one said anything. This was no a surprising statement. She had been saying this for months. Trelawney leveled her gaze and waited.

"There is danger here," continued the old woman, now leaning forward and shaking her finger. "Three lives hang in the balance. Beware of the guardian. The child is a threat."

"Says who?" asked Trelawney with more than a touch of defiance in her voice.

"My darling Rosalie," replied Aunt Henrietta, as she drew her arm back and now touched her breast. "Rosalie negotiates the regions of the world on the other side. She imparts this knowledge to me alone. This is the knowledge that will keep my darling Phoebe safe."

Catherine looked across the room. Hal was holding Phoebe close and Topher had moved behind them. He was clearly angry. Trelawney was unmoved.

"Rosalie is a little fool and always has been," she said calmly. "The angels have no truck with her. Please say nothing else. Mr. Everett, I believe that Uncle David told you to toss her out of the house if she popped in. Please do, or I will not be responsible for Elspeth."

The dog growled fiercely. Rob walked over to the door and opened it. For a moment, Aunt Henrietta seemed uncertain, but then, holding her head high, proudly walked out, scarves flowing behind her, followed by Mrs. Fowler and a very reluctant Francine. There was silence in the room.

"Who in the hell is that crazy old broad?" asked Mr. Just Jim, scratching his head. "And who the hell is Rosalie?"

But no one answered him. Trelawney had walked over and knelt before Phoebe. She gently took her hands and looked into her eyes. They seemed to be completely unaware of everyone else in the room. Hal let go and made room for Trelawney to sit beside his wife. Trelawney took his place and within seconds girls were clinging to each other.

Trelawney was holding Phoebe in her arms and softly rocking her. As she did, she gently patted her back and whispered, "There, there," as Phoebe had done for her so many times before. The roles were now clearly reversed. Standing beside her, Catherine heard Sylvia gasp. She looked at the girls but could see nothing.

Courtesy of Aunt Henrietta, the party was now over.

Quietly the others left, but the girls were oblivious. Before he left, Tom Williams looked at them for a long time. Before he left the house, as Bernice was fussing over Prudence, he pulled Catherine aside.

"Let me know if I can do anything," he said in a low voice. "That woman does not know what she is doing. The only threat to Phoebe is she."

Catherine looked at him as she was seeing him for the first time.

"How do you know?"

"I don't know how I know. I only know that I know," he replied, and pulling Bernice away from Prudence, he quickly exited. Catherine looked after them, stunned.

Later, when all the guests had left, she asked Sylvia, "Did the auras merge?"

"Yes," replied Sylvia tensely. "It was different from what Dad saw. It was Trelawney Rose that was strengthening Phoebe. The child has a very powerful aura for one so young."

"Can you explain it?" asked Catherine. "What colors were the auras?"

Sylvia looked at her suspiciously. Catherine realized that she must now know that she had discussed this with Pastor Jason. And she knew that for whatever reason, Pastor Jason did not want to meet any of the Figalillys. However she must have decided to answer her question anyway.

"Phoebe's aura was a dark, cloudy blue. She was very much afraid," she replied. "Trelawney Rose's was a clear yellow, she was projecting confidence and optimism. When they merged a healing clear green emerged, as if Trelawney Rose's clear aura had scrubbed the cloudy blue clear."

"And this was not what your father saw?" asked Catherine.

"No," she said. "Trelawney Rose's was a different kind of fear that time, and Phoebe's was a different kind of strength. But that does not matter now. We must keep Aunt Henrietta away, particularly from Phoebe."

"Why is that?"

"Being pregnant, Phoebe is more sensitive right now," explained Sylvia. "She very conscious of her precious cargo, so to speak, and feels more vulnerable. And emotionally, she is. Her perceptions are skewed by her focus on the wellbeing of her child. Even without a physical threat, her anxiety is out of proportion to the danger."

"Did Aunt Henrietta do any harm?" asked Catherine anxiously.

"Fortunately, no," replied Sylvia. "Trelawney Rose made short work of her, before she could do any. She was not able to say anything new."

"Was this real or theatrics?" asked Catherine. "You said that you could tell the difference."

"No doubt about it, this was theatrics," she said. "Trelawney Rose knew and that was why she was so bold. But once again our little one was wise. She knew that she had to get the old bat out of the house before she could go into an actual trance. Such a thing could be extremely dangerous."

"Oh, dear," said Catherine. "I guess that we have gotten a little complacent."

"You all must be more watchful," she replied. "You don't want to let her to catch you off guard again. Hal needs to be on the alert now also. Just as you need to stay close to Trelawney Rose, he needs to be close to Phoebe. The sabbatical is quite literally, a Godsend."

"How do you know?" she asked.

Sylvia just smiled and shook her head. Catherine sighed as she walked away. As usual she was not going to get all the answers that she wanted. She would tell Hal what she had said about staying close to Phoebe. But she knew that she really didn't have to. The look of fury on his face when he realized the emotional impact of her nonsense on his wife was intense.

It was good that he had let Trelawney come over and calm her, and from what Sylvia had just told her, essentially heal her. Rob had to take him outside to walk off his anger before they could let him take her home. If he were going to effectively guard his wife, he would need to keep his own emotions in check. By the time he came back in, he was under control again and ready to walk Phoebe and the children home.

But the new wild card in the deck appeared to be Topher. She almost felt sorry for Aunt Henrietta if she ran into him again. She knew that Topher had always been very protective of Trelawney, but she had not realized how strongly he felt about her. He also seemed to feel the same way about Phoebe. What he had seen and heard, especially after her grandson Hal had fully explained it, seemed to have really raised his ire. She suspected that he would not let go of his anger easily.

And she was completely bemused by Tom. Since when had he started talking in circles? Normally, he didn't have much to say for himself at all. He let his wife do most of the talking. She knew that she and Rob would have many things to discuss. It was going to be a very long night.

She went upstairs to check on Trelawney. She noticed that the light was on and she was lying in bed with her eyes wide open. After she kissed her good night, the child spoke.

"Mama Kate," she asked. "May you please sit with me until I fall asleep?"

"Yes, sweetheart, of course," she replied and settled herself into the rocking chair.

"Mama Kate?" called the girl.

"Yes, dear?"

"We must find the good king."

To be continued . . .