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Chapter One
Dee
“I really don’t want to go in.” I stare toward my best friend Tess with the downturned expression of a four-year-old trying to get out of a bath time.
“You’re being a baby. It’s a psychic, Dee. You love psychics.”
“I do… in theory.”
She twists her long blonde hair to the side of her shoulder. “You took me last year, and you ranted on about how accurate this lady was for months. That’s why I got you this gift.” There’s a prodding empathy in Tess’ tone that’s genuine and soft. She means well. She always does. That’s what I envy most about her. Where most folks have an agenda in mind with most things they do, Tess doesn’t. She’s the girl that does things out of the kindness of her heart, just because. This gift, for instance. We don’t exchange gifts. Still, she wanted me to have something she thought I’d like.
Maybe that’s why I’m single and Tess isn’t.She’s a kind person and I’m secretly a bitch. Then again, it’s probably not a secret.
“I know. Thank you. I really do appreciate this. I guess I’m just nervous. What if she tells me something I don’t want to hear?”
“We don’t have to go in. I’m sure she’d understand.” Tess reaches out in comfort. I really need to be more like her.
“Why don’t you go in? You want another reading, right?”
“No. It’s a gift for you. I’m not taking your gift.”
I land my hand on top of hers. “You’re not taking it, I’m giving it to you. Besides, you’re into all this. I’m your pessimistic sidekick. It’s our thing.”
“You’re not pessimistic.Stop!” She stares out the front window for a long moment before looking back toward me. “You’re sure?”
Relief washes over me. “Positive.”
Her tone brightens. “Okay, but I’m buying you lunch afterward, and you have to come in with me. Understood?”
I nod and climb up out of the jeep, crunching through the snow toward the little cabin in the woods where Mrs. Beaux has lived for as long as I can remember.
For the most part, the cabin is like any other. It’s settled sweetly near the winding river with large pine and cedar blanketing the space with generous limbs. There’s a cute front porch with two rocking chairs made from bound twigs, and there’s a window box filled with evergreen boughs and bright red berries. It isn’t until you get close to the door and see the Celtic etching in the wood that you start to question where you are. It’s about that time that you hear the pressed penny wind chimes, and your gaze is drawn to the tree at the side of the house with straw dolls and glass bottles hanging.
This isn’t my kind of place.
“Girls! You’re here. I had a feeling you’d be early.” The front door swings open and startles me. I’ve seen Mrs. Beaux once before with Tess. She had a reading for her birthday last year. A year ago, the woman looked old. Now, she somehow looks younger. She wears a hot pink robe with a cheetah print dress beneath it. Her hair is short, sleek, and silver, and her face is buried behind a pair of big, black glasses. Maybe she’s sucking the souls of children. I make a mental note to check that out later. Right now, I’m hyper focused on how great her hearing must be. That must be how she knew we were here, the creaking on the front steps. Though, I guess she could have surveillance out here too.
I reach my hand out toward her. “Hi, I’m Dee. You probably don’t remember me from last year, but Tess and I have decided to—”
“Change readings. I know. You’re scared, child. No worries. I’ll take Tess with me. You can wait in the living room if you wish.” Her frail hand is cold. “There are all kinds of stories on this time of day. Game shows too, if that’s your thing.”
Shouldn’t she know what my thing is?
“If it’s okay, I’d like her to come back with us.” Tess is back to twisting her hair. She must be nervous, too.
Mrs. Beaux glances toward both of us. “You’re both welcome to come. I only ask that you stay quiet so as the spirits don’t get confused.”
“Confused?Okay…” I bite back laughter as we maneuver through the sweltering house. She must have the heat cranked to ninety. Which makes sense, considering all the tropical greenery she’s growing inside. Bright colored leaves, and small petaled flowers. There’s even a potted lemon tree in the back corner stretching toward the UV light that’s been hung overhead. “You really like to garden, don’t you?”
“Oh, I do a bit of everything.” Mrs. Beaux guides us into the back room where a small round table and two chairs sit center stage. On the walls are colored tapestries and a vintage-looking sign that says, ‘Psychic Advisor.’Now if that’s not someone taking their title too seriously, I don’t know what is. She sits at the table, closes her eyes, and lies her hands palm up.
This is where she loses me.
