1
KENDALL
“You’re up,” Shirley says in that “don’t fuck with me” tone she likes to use whenever she’s in charge of something. Wine dribbles out of my mouth and down my chin as she forcefully yanks my chair back, the wooden legs screeching against the tile floor in protest. Shirley is so anal about our annual psychic night, ensuring everyone attends their session at the exact appointed time. Instead of running a furniture business with her husband, she should be training recruits in the military or something. She’d have them all quaking in their boots.
Setting my wineglass on the table, I stand, smoothing a hand down the front of my dress. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood for this tonight,” I admit, glancing anxiously at Mirabelle sobbing loudly in the corner of Shirley’s Shaker-style kitchen. Something the psychic said really spooked her, and I don’t know if I’m courageous enough to hear my truths tonight.
“You know you can’t pass it up,” Viola says, eyeing me with concern. We’ve been best friends since middle school, and she knows why I’m having second thoughts. Which is most unlike me, because I started our annual tradition.
I’m fascinated with things we can’t explain or control. I was that kid who bypassed rides at carnivals and headed straight for the fortune-teller’s tent, full of curiosity and excitement. When Curtis and I first moved to this street—when West and Stella were toddlers and Ridge was just a twinkle in my eye—I decided to host a psychic night at our house to break the ice and get to know my new neighbors. It quickly became an annual get-together for us girls, and we alternate houses every year.
We used to hire different psychics until we stumbled upon Dee three years ago and we knew we hit the jackpot. There are a lot of frauds in the game, but I firmly believe there are people out there with genuine ability. People who have a gift for looking into the past and the future and who see things most of us mortals don’t—like Dee.
I’m enthralled by the thought someone can guide us through life’s murky waters, shining a light on things that could be construed as preordained. But I believe we still have free will. We still have choices, and we choose the path we travel.
Which is why I’m not going to chicken out.
I smile at my best friend. “You’re right.” I take a large mouthful of my wine for bravery. “Time to pull up my big-girl panties.”
Viola squeezes my hand while Shirley taps her foot impatiently on the floor. Stepping away from the table, I follow Shirley out of the kitchen and ignore the nerves pricking at my skin. “I thought you liked Dee,” she says, as we walk down the hallway to the small study on the left just inside the front door.
“I do. She’s given me good advice these past few years.” I’m just terrified of what she might confirm tonight.
Shirley stops, placing her hand on my arm. “Is everything okay?” Her brows knit together as she stares at me, and I’m surprised. We don’t have this kind of relationship. She’s my closest neighbor and someone I know I can rely on if I need a cup of sugar or someone to watch Ridge for an hour if there’s a work emergency and Stella isn’t around to take care of her little brother. We do family dinners a couple of times a year, but largely we stay out of each other’s hair, and I like that. Close, but not too close. We don’t confide things in one another, and I’m not about to start. I like the friendship we have as it is. If I need to vent, I have Viola and June—my bestie from Bentley Law, where we both work.
“Everything is fine,” I lie, offering her a more robust smile. “I’m just tired. I’ve been pulling long shifts at work for weeks now, and I’m exhausted.” That’s no lie. Things are crazy busy at the office. Late nights and weekend work has become far too much of a regular occurrence lately. I’m close to blowing a gasket. Family time is precious to me, and my kids are growing up way too fast. I don’t want to miss time with them, and I’m getting fed up having to work overtime. I plan on speaking to my boss about it this week.
“I know we’re not as close as you are with Viola, but I’m here for you too. I just want you to know that.” Her features soften as she looks at me, and I wonder if she knows something. I didn’t confide in her three years ago, but it’s not inconceivable to imagine she heard something through the grapevine. If she heard rumors, she never addressed them with me. That’s one thing you can count on with Shirley. She’s discreet.
“Thanks, Shirley. I appreciate that. You’re a great neighbor and friend.”
“I can say the same for you.” She drops her hand from my arm, jerking her head forward. “Come on. We’re getting behind on the schedule.”
Pursing my lips and trapping a smile, I follow her into the study where Dee awaits.
I sit down in the chair in front of the desk as Shirley exits the room, softly closing the door behind her.
The older woman behind the desk smiles warmly at me. “Kendall. It’s great to see you again. How have you been?”
I shrug. “So-so.”
Her piercing green eyes drill into mine. “Are you still working at the law firm?” She clasps her hands on the desk while maintaining eye contact with me.
“Yes. Curtis got a big promotion at work nine months ago, and I put in a request to move to part-time working, but it was denied. It’s very busy at the moment. We won a few new high-profile accounts, and the timing isn’t right. I’m the only office manager, and there isn’t anyone else available to pick up the slack. I am hoping to reapply after Christmas, when things should be a little quieter.”
Her gaze continues probing mine, but it’s not uncomfortable. I felt a connection with Dee the instant I met her, and we just clicked. I feel relaxed in her presence, even if I’m anxious over what she might say. Her insights have been spot-on in the past, and I know she’s the real deal. I have considered organizing a few private readings during the year, but I just haven’t found the time to put that in motion.
“And the children? Are they well?”
I nod, and a genuine smile ghosts over my mouth. My kids are my everything. They keep me going on days when it feels like I can’t function. “They are all doing great. West is a senior this year. Stella is a junior, and Ridge has one more year before he starts middle school. They are growing up so fast. I wish I could slow down time.”
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Her warm smile comforts me like luscious hot chocolate on a wintry night, and I sink into the leather chair, unwinding a little.
She cocks her head to the side, studying me. “I can tell something is playing on your mind. What can I do for you, Kendall? What would you like to know?”
Drawing a brave breath, I grip the edge of the chair as I exhale slowly. “I think it’s happening again,” I admit, swallowing over the massive lump clogging my throat. “I think Curtis is cheating on me.” I unstick my tongue from the roof of my suddenly dry mouth. “Is he?”
Her brow puckers, and her tongue darts out, wetting her lips as she stares contemplatively at me. Anxiety blooms in my chest as the seconds tick by. “I’m not seeing anything in relation to your husband, and I sense you already know the answer to your question.”