“I don’t mean in this life, but in our last one. You and him were both there...the oracle and the seer.”
“Who?” Seth asked.
“That’s what we’ve called them in the past,” Jenny said. “She’s the oracle. Her opposite is the seer, a very nasty soul.”
“Are you talking about reincarnation?” Mariella asked. “I thought you didn’t believe in that.”
“I can remember hundreds of lifetimes,” Jenny said. “I mean, not all at once, obviously. And the last few are the most difficult for me, because the person who opened my mind to my memories...Alexander...he didn’t want me to remember those lives. So he blocked them, or kept me from opening them, or something. I’m working on unraveling the last one, because I think it matters now.”
“I knew it!” Mariella said. “I’ve always felt that I’ve lived before.”
“We all have,” Jenny told her. “And you were part of the last one, and so was your opposite. That’s why it’s important we figure out what happened. It’s the only way to figure out what the seer wants and how we can stop him.”
Seth was raising his eyebrows at her, clearly surprised she’d told Mariella so much. Jenny shrugged. Let Seth judge for himself when he learned more about who she was, Jenny thought. Mariella’s past life didn’t necessarily tell Jenny who Mariella was in this lifetime, and it was always best to be suspicious.
“Can you tell me about my past lives?” Mariella asked.
“I will, if you feel like listening. The duck’s going to roast another hour. I’ll have to catch you up on the story so far...and this calls for another glass of wine, so let’s pretend I’m drinking one.” She slid her glass across the table to Seth, who drank it down like it was Jell-o shot. “You might as well open the next bottle, Seth.”
He smiled and walked to the kitchen. Jenny’s plan was to get Seth completely sloshed before Mariella left. Maybe she could put off the big pregnancy talk one more day.
“The last time we saw each other, it was the Great Depression,” Jenny said, “1933.”
Chapter Seventeen
Just before they reached Charleston, Barrett took over the driving from Juliana, explaining that city driving was a little more complicated, and there were rules to learn.
The city of Charleston was full of life, with street vendors hawking everything from newspapers to fresh shrimp, trolleys crawling through the crowded downtown, music playing from open windows and balconies. It was a far more beautiful place than Juliana had expected, full of masterfully worked wrought-iron gates and fences, brick walls and high columns. Mr. Barrett must have brought in craftsmen from Charleston to build his mansion, Juliana thought, because the style was the same.
Massive old trees lined the streets, live oak and magnolias dripping with Spanish moss and wisteria. The towers of churches and cathedrals reached toward the sky on almost every block.
“I love this city,” Juliana said. “You wouldn’t even know there was a Depression at all.”
“You can thank the United States Navy for that,” Barrett told her. “They’ve expanded the shipyards and they’re turning out battleships like clockwork. Good for jobs, good for business. I was even lucky enough to invest in some of the companies that provision the shipyard. Really helps us weather the economy.”
“Battleships?” Juliana asked. “Is another war coming?”
“The more battleships you have, the easier it is to keep the peace.” Barrett honked at a slow, horse-drawn wagon loaded with vegetables blocking up the street ahead of them. “Remember, we have two big oceans to control, the Atlantic and the Pacific. That takes a lot of ships, and Charleston is proud to provide them.”
They finally reached a four-story, colonial-style office building a few blocks from the wharf, its bricks painted a cheerful blue color, its windows trimmed in gold and white. The artfully carved and painted wooden sign by the front door listed several businesses, one of which was “Barrett Mercantiles.”
“This is where I have to be dull and go through paperwork,” Barrett told them as he got out of the car. He circled around to open Juliana’s door, but Sebastian climbed out first and beat him to it, holding her hand as she stepped down from the running board. Barrett gave Sebastian a smirk, then handed Juliana a pair of twenty-dollar bills. “The city is yours. Buy clothes, a suitcase, whatever you want for your journey.”
“Do we need to buy food for the trip?” Juliana asked.
“Of course not. You’ll eat in the dining saloon, all expenses charged to my account,” Barrett said. “You may want books and magazines. It’s nine days at sea before you arrive in Hamburg. Meet me back here at sunset.” He tipped his hat and walked up the brick steps into the building.