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“Whoa-kay,” I say, lifting my hands. I’m a little disarmed but trying not to show it. “My parents will be thrilled to hear it.”
“It’s no joke,” she tells me, and I feel Delia taking my hand again. For some reason, I can’t take my eyes off Josie. She has a surprisingly powerful presence. “And I think you’ll find your parents both have other plans.”
My dad does. A few very intelligent people choose to dine out on Thanksgiving rather than laboring for hours to produce food that’s so unremarkable people choose to make it only once a year. Those people like to be entertained, hence my father’s band always gets booked. But, again, that’s a matter of public record, easily discoverable.
My mother, on the other hand, is both anal and determined to impress Delia’s rich fiancé. There’s no way she’ll bow out of hosting Thanksgiving dinner—and there’s no way I’m leaving Delia to deal with our mother by herself. Sure, Burke would protect her, but he hasn’t been protecting her for as long as I have. She’d say she doesn’t need protection anymore, and maybe she has a point, but even so…
Still, my family dynamics are none of Josie the Great’s business.
“I’ll bet Danny has plans too,” I say. “It’s in a week and a half. Everyone who wants plans has them.”
“Not true,” Josie says. “The ether tells me otherwise.”
“Has it told you whether Danny’s soulmate is going to be there?” I ask flippantly.
“Yes,” Josie says with a sparkle in her eyes. “And so is yours.”
For a split second, I feel myself quaking, as if this news actually means something. Abadsomething, if she’s implying Danny’s soulmate is Daphne and mine is some random dude I haven’t met yet.
Then again, ifbothof our soulmates are supposed to be there, maybe…
It’s this disarming thought, and the slightly gooey feeling it creates in my chest that activates my bullshit detector. This woman is messing with me.
I have no soulmate, and neither does Danny. Because soulmates don’t exist.
All of these conflicting thoughts rip through my mind in an instant, before my sister blurts, “Please tell me it’s not Byron.”
“It’s not,” Josie insists before turning back toward me. “Just make sure you invite enough people. You’re going to want a lot of people there.”
“Because it’ll up the chances of her soulmate being present?” Shauna asks through the kind of silent laughter that makes her look like she’s suffering.
“It’s always good to have a full table at Thanksgiving,” Josie says. “It’s a holiday for giving thanks.” This is directed at me, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t sound just like my mother. “You’ll have regrets if you don’t make the most of it. This year especially.”
“You know what?” I say. “I have to give you credit for being creative. This is the most random fortune anyone’s ever been given in the history of fortunes.”
Poe coughs and nearly chokes on whatever he’s eating.
“Well, it’s the most random one I’ve ever heard,” I mutter.
“Ignore me at your own peril,” Josie says, and I can tell she’s pretty proud of her turn of phrase. I have to admit it’s a good one, as far as supernatural threats go. It helps that there’s that black wax melted all over the table and also that it’s started getting dark outside early now that November is nearly half complete.
“Where are we supposed to have this super-important Thanksgiving dinner?”
Her gaze lowers to my messed-up leg. “You don’t look like you should travel far.”
I can’t tell whether she’s being pragmatic, purposefully vague, or an asshole.
“So you’re talking about my apartment.”
She nods officiously. “You’ll need to expand the table.”
“We don’t have the kind of table that expands. And I definitely don’t have a soulmate.”
She gives the kind of shrug that says nothing while saying more than I’d like to hear.
I turn to leave, but then look back and ask, “Is my neighbor across the alleyway up to some shady shit?”
“Keep watch,” she says, and I’m embarrassed for having asked. Because, honestly, other than the very specific bit of advice about Thanksgiving and her upsetting news about Byron, this woman’s prophecies are exactly as vague as you’d expect from a hack psychic.
