Page 79 of Tony

My eyebrows go up again.

“I texted her while you were getting dressed earlier,” Soshee says. “She’s cheating right now.”

Madam Ameci stands up straight and gets a little haughty. “I don’t need to cheat.”

“I’m gonna stop you there, Mom. Because what we’re about to tell you is gonna blow your mind.”

Soshee’s mother’s eyes are still locked with mine. “He knows your brother.”

“Yeah,” Soshee breathes. “How did you know?”

Her mother shoots her a look that says, Please. I’m a psychic. But that fades quickly and she sighs as she pulls out the chair across from me and sinks down in to it. “I knew this day would come eventually. And I didn’t need to use any psychic powers to predict it. I, along with the rest of the world, read the special wedding edition of that magazine with the photos of your sister and Jesse Boston. I’m actually surprised it took you boys this long to start figuring things out.”

“There are a lot of moving parts,” I say.

“That there are.”

“You knew about the witnesses?” Soshee says. “And you didn’t warn me? I literally just found out about them on the drive down. I’ve come here to bitch about Belinda Baker like six dozen times over the past couple years and you never said a word!”

“Warnings do no good, Soshee. You know that. Everyone needs to see the truth on their own timeline. And Belinda isn’t part of your story. He is. If you had come here bitching about Mr. Dumas, I would’ve calmed you down and set you straight. But you didn’t. You came bitching about Belinda. She has her own part to play and it has nothing to do with you. Now. Stir the freaking tea, Mr. Dumas. I’m on a tight schedule here.”

“But if you already know why we’re here, then why do I need a tea reading?”

“Silly boy.” She tsks her tongue. “You’re not here for that. You’re here for you.”

“Am I?”

“Stir. The tea.”

“Whatever,” I mumble. And stir the tea.

“Now drink it.”

I stare at the tea and make a face. It smells horrible. And it looks like red mud. “Is that really necessary?”

“Drink the freaking tea.”

“Fine.” I lift the cup to my lips and take a sip.

“All of it. In one gulp, please.”

I look at Soshee for help. “Just do it,” she says. “The quicker you let her read them, the quicker we can get the hell out of here.”

“Nice,” Madam says to her daughter.

I force myself to gulp it. Because Soshee is right. I’ve had about enough of her mother for one day, thank you. Then I set the cup down. Madam Ameci scoops the cup up almost before it hits the table. She peers down at the leaves and nods.

“What? What’s it say?” I can’t believe I even said that. All those years I made fun of Alonzo’s fascination with mermaids and sirens are now coming back to haunt me. He can’t ever know about this or he will never let me live it down.

“Just as I thought.”

“Jesus Christ, Mother. Just tell us.”

“It’s not what has been said, Mr. Dumas,” Madam Ameci replies, looking only at me. “It’s what hasn’t been said. Chew on that, mister. Now,” she says, standing up and straightening her robe-shift-mumu thing, “I have to go. Mrs. Chase is probably snoring by now. See you kids later!”

She makes a little hand wave gesture and then throws the breakroom door open and whooshes through it, disappearing as quickly as she came.

I look at Soshee. “What the ever-loving fuck was that?”