Dancing on Moonbeams: Jennie's Gifts, #2

Dancing on Moonbeams

Jennie’s Gifts

Fiction Series Book 2

by

Lynn Thomas

2019

Summary of Dancing on Moonbeams

Fiction. Jennie’s psychic abilities continue to expand and flourish in her work as a professional medium. She's happy delivering messages from the spirit world to her clients, and her business is booming!

All is going well … until the phone call.

It’s Jasmine, Ben’s new wife, calling on behalf of the medium’s ex-husband and his mother. Jennie feels conflicted. How can she help the two of them when all they’ve ever done is mock and gossip about Jennie and her career.

As a professional medium Jennie has vowed to be of loving service to everyone. But does everyone have to include Ben and her ex-mother-in-law? Is she really expected to be of service to them?

She doesn’t want to dishonor her Gifts, but can Jennie set aside her feelings enough to be helpful? Or is it too great a sacrifice?

Copyright

Dancing On Moonbeams: Jennie’s Gifts Book 2. Also titled as: The Sacrifice.

Copyright ©2013, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019 Lynn Seeley Thomas.

This a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks and brand names used in this book are the property of their respective owners.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, stored, transmitted or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author, except in brief quotations embodied in reviews and articles.

http://lynnthomas.info

Published in the United States of America

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

In grateful acknowledgement of my husband, family and friends for their loving encouragement and support. Heartfelt thanks to Angela Thomas for her assistance with the original cover design and to Jamey Thomas for her numerous proofreads. And to Joan Piper for her evidential mediumship instruction, guidance and inspiration; and a special thanks to the creative and loving Spirit in which this was written. Also acknowledging you, Dear Reader, may this book inspire and entertain you!

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to

Jamey and Angela.

And, as always, to Tom

Chapter 1

January

THE MOONBEAMS HOVERED in space like lily pads floating on the surface of a pond. It was not the first time I’ve had this dream of skipping and dancing along the celestial pathway. And when I caught sight of the Earth spinning below I stopped to take in the view. But as I gazed down at the lovely planet I felt a vibration in the strands of light. Something or someone had stepped onto my path.

I looked back and saw a man walking toward me along the illuminated threads. He was dressed in dark brown trousers and a long sleeved white shirt tucked in at the waist. He wore his hat tilted forward, shadowing his face, and as he neared me, he removed it, revealing his friendly blue eyes.

Hi, Jennie, he said.

Do I know you? I asked.

You’ll remember me soon, he said with a laugh, then whistled and shouted, Jinx!

A cat appeared and jumped into the man’s arms. I stepped closer to the man to pet the tabby, and it purred in response.

We’ll see you later, the man said as he donned his hat, then walked away cradling the cat, its tail flicking contentedly along his arm. They strolled several yards before disappearing into the mist.

Who the heck was that?

You’ll know soon enough, a voice said from behind me.

I turned around and looked up at a tall shimmering entity. He had to be over seven feet! Who are you?

I am one of your guides, he said, then pressed a fingertip to my forehead. And you need to wake up.

☼

The room was dark as I opened my eyes. What woke me? A snippet of a dream came to mind... but as I grasped at it, it slipped beneath my consciousness.

Jake, still asleep beside me, drew me in with his magnetism. As I snuggled up to his back and closed my eyes to sleep, my spirit guide Mica said, Wake up!

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, as I telepathically asked, ‘Why do I have to get up so early?’

You need to get to your store, Mica said.

My store, the Sunflowers Shoppe, is in my home town of Del Vista, Florida, and is where I work as a professional medium with the assistance of Mica and other guides and spirits.

Get up now! Mica said.

I leapt from my bed and ran into the bathroom where I showered, towel dried and styled my hair in record time. But as I stood at the mirror slathering foundation on my face an edge of the dream came to mind. I pulled at it, willing it to come forward, but it slipped away.

Hurry and leave now, Mica said.

Mica startled my foggy mind. I’m not used to getting up this early, so it was taking me longer to get ready. After I got dressed, I walked up to the bed and gazed down at Jake, still slumbering. It was tempting to climb back in bed and cuddle with him.

Go now, Jennie! Mica said.

With a sigh I kissed Jake’s cheek and left the room. On my way out the door I stopped in the kitchen for a breakfast bar and wrote a note to Jake telling him I had to leave early for work. I felt grateful that he was supportive of my career. Unlike my ex-husband, Ben Malone, who took delight in disparaging my profession. His mother, Evonne, was no better. She never liked me or that I had married her darling boy.

But from that dreadful marriage I’ve been blessed with my children and grandchildren. My son, Nathan, lived in Ohio with his pregnant wife, Bridgette, and their daughter, Emily, age two. And my daughter, Kate, lived an hour from me with her daughter, Lola, age four, and her son, Evan, who’s three.

☼

As I veered off Main Street and passed the town square, my Sunflowers Shoppe came into view with its array of sunflowers painted on the front windows and signage. I chose the name and logo because the sunflower is a symbol of mediumship, and of good luck. After parking my Subaru I crossed the street, and when I unlocked the front door the overhead wind chimes rang out, breaking the predawn silence.

It wasn’t often that I arrived before Megan, who wouldn’t arrive for several hours. I had hired her last fall, just in time for our grand opening. She has proven to be an invaluable assistant and store manager, with a pleasant personality and wisdom beyond her twenty years. And because she finds and stocks such unusual items on our shelves, we have many customers who visit the store each week to see what’s new. Thanks to word of mouth the storefront has become profitable, and appointments for private readings have increased.

Still not knowing why I had been summoned to work so early, I walked down the hallway to my office, and tossed my purse on the desk. The layout of the room had proven functional with my roll top desk, reading table, and a chair that swiveled between the two. Across the table were two chairs for clients and beyond that a couch along the far wall that provided extra seating or a place for a quick nap.

The couch looked inviting, so I stretched out on it, and as I drifted to sleep the ringing desk phone woke me. Who would call at this hour?

I ran to my desk and answered the phone. Hello?

Hello, I’m looking for Jennie the psychic. Is she there? a woman said.

I bristled at the remark. Being called a psychic was a pet peeve of mine as I was a trained and certified evidential medium. But rather than correct the caller, I said, This is Jennie.

Oh, I’m so glad to reach you. My name is Caroline Werther. My cousin, Joyce Dillon, told me about you and gave me your number.

How may I help you? I asked as I jotted myself a note to thank Joyce, also known as JD, for yet another referral.

I’m at the hospital with my mother. She’s been unconscious since yesterday and her doctor says she won’t be with us much longer.

I’m sorry to hear that, I said.

Yes, well, the reason I’m calling is that my mother told me that my father had promised her before he died that he’d come for her when her time came. When I mentioned this to JD, she said you could tell if Dad’s spirit was here for her. Can you do that, and can you come right away?

‘Was this the reason I came to work so early?’ A tingling along my arms confirmed this was true. I’ll be right over, I said.

Oh, thank you, she said. I’ll have my husband, Keith, meet you in the lobby and escort you to my mother’s room. Please hurry.

My gut tightened as I hung up the phone. I’ve never sat with anyone making their transition. What should I do?

Trust, Mica said.

As always my guide’s presence comforted me, I wasn’t in this alone.

On my way out of the door, I stopped at Megan’s desk and wrote her a note about where I'd be.

But what was I getting myself into? I’ve always shied away from hospitals and the like after my experience as a volunteer at a nursing home when I was thirteen. The head nurse, a Mrs. Conley, assigned me to my first patient; a bedridden woman who laid flat on her back, staring at the ceiling all day. As I observed her the room started spinning. The next thing I knew I was waking up on a sofa in the nursing office with Mrs. Conley waving smelling salts under my nose.

What happened? I said.

You passed out, Mrs. Conley said.

As I sat up I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. Why do I hurt so much?

Because you fell over the bedrail. Why did you pass out?

I don’t know. I was feeling sorry for the woman, and how she can’t move or speak. And then the room spun.

You are not cut out for nursing, my girl, she said.

She was right about that. And I also learned that it was unwise, if not downright dangerous, to become overly empathetic.

Chapter 2

I PULLED INTO a parking space at the hospital just as one of my favorite Dave Matthews songs finished playing. The upbeat tune helped me feel more energized as I switched off the ignition and stepped out of my vehicle. I ran up the steps to the main entrance and when I entered the lobby I noticed a tall, thin man pacing the carpet. He wore a shirt imprinted with a company logo, and from his paint splattered pants and work boots, I surmised he worked in construction. As I walked toward him, he stopped pacing and looked at me.

Are you Jennie? he said.

Yes, I am.

Follow me, he said and took off at such a quick stride I couldn’t match his pace. When I finally caught up with him he was standing at the elevator holding the door open for me. I’ll miss my mother-in-law, he said as we ascended floors. She’s been decent. But I fear how Caroline will handle this; she and her mother are very close.

Before I could respond, the doors opened and Keith exited fast down the hallway and took a right. As I rounded the corner, I nearly bumped into him as he stood pointing at the closed door. This is her room, he said.

Aren’t you going in? I asked.

No, I’ve already said my goodbye. I can’t sit in that room anymore, waiting for her to die. If Caroline needs me I’ll be over there, he said as he pointed at the waiting room across the hall. The room looked to be well stocked with puzzles, magazines and a television for those having long waits and anxious minds.

As I pushed the door open a woman seated next to the bed glanced back at me, then stood up. She walked toward me, then asked in a hushed tone, Are you Jennie?

Yes, I said.

I’m Caroline. Thank you for getting here so quickly.

We walked toward the bed together while I held my empathic emotions in check. I didn’t want to keel over another bedrail.

This is my mother, Wanda, Caroline said as we gazed down at the frail woman on the bed, swallowed up in a mass of sheets and blankets. She’s had her eyes closed since yesterday, but I talk to her in case she can hear me. The last time she spoke was last night when she called out my father’s name.

Caroline took a seat, and I walked around the bed to sit in a chair across from her. As I tuned into my surroundings, I sensed a spirit in the room with us. As I made my connection, a male spirit materialized behind Caroline’s chair,