Chapter 14

I always enjoyed dining at 21. The setting was elegant, the service impeccable, and the food delicious, delicious like my dinner guest. Nicole was breathtaking in the black dress. Not to boast, but between the two of us, we turned a lot of heads when we made our entrance.

Nicole ordered the wine - red and white, a bottle of each, and the sommelier congratulated her on her selections. I had to admit the wine enhanced the food. We didn't drink all the wine, less than half of each bottle, I'd guess.

"Tell me about the past life you remember," I said to Nicole.

She sipped from her glass of red wine, and said, "All right. I lived in Birmingham, England, with my mother until I married a man named John Albright. I gave birth to four children, three boys and a girl, and I think I died in a plane crash when I was about forty years old. I remember flying in a small aircraft, and something happened, but I'm not clear what. It was nighttime. My husband was the pilot, and I think... I don't know. I remember a brief moment of terror, and my memories stopped at that point."

"What was your maiden name?"

"Edwina Harrison. From my memories, I think I was born in the mid-forties and died in the mid eighties."

"What? 1945 to 1985?"

"Yeah, give or take a year."

"You mentioned a mother but no father."

"I have no memories of a father. I do remember asking my mother about my father - I was quite young, like eight or nine years old at the time - but she wouldn't talk about him. Another memory involved a sizeable amount of money I received when I was twenty-one. My mother told me that my father's father had arranged for the money before I was born, which made me very curious. I remember questioning my mother, asking for details about my father and his father, but my mother refused to answer any of my many questions."

"Are you aware that I was an Englishman in my immediate past life, living from 1917 to 1986?"

"Yes, not the years specifically, but Josh told me your name for that incarnation was Edward Smithe, I believe, spelled with an E at the end. Oh, and you had a title. Were you knighted, or something?"
"Yes, the knighthood was a given when I took charge of the family estates, which were substantial. Except for a few artifacts I've recently collected, I as Sir Edward assembled the items in my museum and established a fund to support the museum in perpetuity. I, as Sir Edward, also setup another fund that I, as Sandra Johnson, inherited from Sir Edward, or myself. If that sounds strange and convoluted, that happens when talking about yourself in terms of past lives. I've already made arrangements to pass the collection and a portfolio of real estate, stocks and bonds to whoever I become in my next life."

"How can you do that?"

"Upon my death, the museum and portfolio will go into a trust managed by a very old and trusted English firm. The trust can be claimed by anyone as long as the claimant knows certain facts and codes. I've noticed that I'm reborn about nine months after I die, but the memories of past lives don't arrive until the onset of puberty. About thirteen or fourteen years after I die, whoever I become in my next life will remember the facts and the codes along with the memories of our past lives, and that person can claim the collection and portfolio. It's not foolproof, but it worked once, so it should work again. Back to your past life. First tell me more about your mother, and then I'd like to hear about your husband and children. It sounds like it was a pretty good life."

"It was - a short life, though. I've thought about traveling to England and looking up my children, but..."

"Don't. It's heart rending, very painful and confusing, at best. Remember, you're not the same person you were. Because the memories come to you during your adolescence, you become a person in your own right before realizing that your current life isn't the only life you've lived. I can revisit locales where I lived before as long as I don't see anyone I knew in that previous life, but I'm more comfortable if at least fifty years has gone by, and a hundred is even better. I avoid the old haunts in London I frequented as Sir Edward."

"Makes sense. I remember my baby boy so well, Harold was his name, but to see him now would be difficult." Nicole grimaced. "He wouldn't be much older than I am now."

"What was your mother's name?"

"Mary. She was a loving, nurturing woman, and I loved her dearly."

"Mary Harrison!"

"Yes."

"How old was she when you were born?"

"I don't know."

"What did she look like?"

"What's goin' on, Sandy? You're agitated."

"I may have known your mother in my past life. Describe her please."

"She was a voluptuous woman, not plump, but... well, curvy. A blonde, bright blue eyes - kind eyes, not flashy."

"Yes, yes, how tall was she?"

"Average. Five-five, I'd guess."

"Unbelievable!"

"What?"

"If I'm right, Edwina Harrison was born in 1946. When I, as Edward Smithe, was about twenty-seven years old, I became quite taken with a young woman named Mary Harrison who worked as a servant for the family estate. We became lovers, and the affair went on for about a year. I, as Edward, couldn't marry the woman. Marrying across class lines just wasn't done in my family, but I loved her, and she loved me. One day Mary disappeared. For good reasons, I suspected my father had something to do with her disappearance, so I asked him about her. He told me that she was pregnant, but that I wasn't to worry about it, that he had taken care of everything. I searched for Mary for the rest of that life but never found her. Did your mother in that life have a birthmark on her thigh?"

"Yes! It looked like a butterfly!"

"Yes! Oh, my! This is amazing. Nicole, in our immediate past lives, I think I was your father."

Thursday, we shopped until we dropped. Nicole's delight with designer originals was contagious, and I purchased as many clothes and accessories as she... that is, Josh purchased them, or would when I totaled up the bill and gave it to him. We had lunch at Tavern on the Green in Central Park and took in a Broadway play after an early dinner. I was happy when Nicole admitted she was tuckered out, too tired to go dancing. Instead, we went to my apartment and soaked together in my large tub filled with soothing hot water and bath oils. Candles flickered as our only light source, and soft music filled the comfortable silences when we paused our conversation to change subjects or to consider what the other person said. Not surprisingly, Josh came up during our bath.

"You hurt him, Sandy. Why? And don't give me that song and dance about bein' afraid he'd make you do somethin' you didn't want to do. I understand the fear was real, but if you love him as deeply as he loves you, you wouldn't have let your fear become so overwhelming that you'd stay away from him all this time."

"You're right, of course," I said and explained the circumstances, how I felt about everything, and why I'd told him we shouldn't be lovers anymore. Even to my ears, my explanation sounded weak and made me appear uncaring, even selfish.

She interrupted my discourse and said, "Josh will be very disappointed. He still loves you, Sandy, and after being with you, I understand why. His expectations for the upcoming reunion are very high. He's as excited about being with you again as he is about his love for me. Before he boards that airplane tomorrow morning, I insist that you call him and tell him exactly how you feel. Don't hold anything back. His expectations will be dashed, but he'll handle the pain like he's been handling it for a while, and he'll arrive forewarned and with the proper mindset so the reunion between brother and sister rather than lovers can still be heartwarming for both of you. I won't let you hurt him again like you did before."

"You didn't let me finish, Nicole. Over the last six months or so, I've fallen in love with Josh all over again. He's a man now, all man, not a mature teenager. What he's done, what he's accomplished is..." I chuckled. "Well, it's amazing, but that's only part of the reason I fell in love with him again. His maturity, how he handles his work, our parents, his love for you and, yes, his love for me, too, how he's handling his life, period, made me realize why I'd fallen in love with him in the first place. My love for him early on wasn't the gut-wrenching kind of love, but it was deep and abiding. Now, it's... well, it's gut wrenching, dammit. I tremble with just the thought of having his hands on me again." I shivered with passion. "I want him to fuck me, Nicole, fuck me hard and fast, and then I want him to make slow languorous love with me. I want to please him and take pleasure from him."

"Whew! That's hot! If you truly feel that way, then I have a suggestion, no it's more than a suggestion; it's a strong recommendation. Forget the fucking shields. If you don't let Josh in your mind, he'll know you don't trust him, and eventually his love for you will whither and die."

When I didn't respond she said, "Tell me about your fears. What do you truly fear, Sandy?"

I told her, told her in graphic detail. When I finished, I thought she'd cringe away from me. Instead, she said, "Well, fuck, is that all? It sounds to me that the despicable brutes deserved to die."

"It's the sheer savagery of what I did that I don't want you or Josh to witness. I went berserk, out of my mind. I stabbed and sliced and cut until I was covered in the blood of my victims, and still I didn't stop. I cut off a cock and stuffed it into a mouth. I cut off a head, Nicole, and watched it roll away from me, its eyes still alive briefly, looking at me as if I were crazy, and that's what I was. I can tell you or Josh about it. I just did with you, but the thought of you or Josh actually witnessing or experiencing the events terrifies me."

She snorted a laugh. "Sandy, if I probed your mind for memories, they'd come to me in the form of thoughts. Telepathically, I won't, no make that can't witness any more than what you just told me. You have nothing to fear from me. I'm not sure about Josh. He reads emotions and sensations, so he might relive the emotions and sensations you went through during the incidents, and I stress might because I'm not clear how much detail he uncovers when he reads attitudes long buried, or even fresh attitudes, for that matter. He says he understands, whatever that means. We'll need to ask him what and how much he'll understand should he stumble onto one of the incidents you mentioned while checking the attitudes tied to your memories. I do know this. When he makes love with you, he'll want to take your orgasm as his own, and if you shield your mind, your sensations will come through, but your emotions will be blocked, and your emotions enhance your sensations. Somehow, they're tied together. So, if you shield your mind, you'll be denying Josh his greatest pleasure."

"Fuck!" I growled. Damned if I do, and damned if I don't. "I'm turning into prune. Let's get out of this tub and into bed."

Did I dare?

As Nicole rubbed a thick towel over my wet flesh, she said, "Drying you off is as much fun as drying Josh."

I melted, and then I pulled her into my arms and kissed her with all the sudden passion I felt. "And then there's you, Nicole Halliday! You, you wonderful creature, surprised me. I understand why Josh loves you so much, why he fell in love with you so quickly, because I'm falling for you myself."

"You are?" she exclaimed, her expression full of delight.

I just had to kiss her again, and she returned my passion, and more.

"Yes! Nicole, I want to try something. Let's get in bed, cuddle up, and I'll lower my shield. Take your time; probe as deeply as you want for as long as you want, and find the two incidents I told you about. I want, no I need your reaction."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes."

Fifteen minutes later, Nicole said, "You did love her, you as Edward, I mean, and I'm referring to my mother from my past life."

"Yes, what my father did to protect the family name still infuriates me."

"Hmm, I don't think I could be a prostitute," she said.