“Oh, stop being so dramatic. We’ll figure this out. They’re just people,” I say, trying to bring some semblance of sanity back into this mix.
“Easy for you to say. I haven’t even had lunch yet,” he whimpers.
I twist around, pulling Renaldo up to a full stand. “What happened? How did this start?”
His face contorts as he shakes his head. “How do you think it started? The first nutter came in looking to have a word. I told them you were booked up, but I could get them on the schedule in the future. But before I could even open the appointment app, more were coming in. I practically had to beat them back to close up the shop. I even broke a nail.” He holds out his hand, whimpering at a tiny chip missing from his middle fingernail.
I roll my eyes, taking a few steps away. He’s as bad as I am with all of this. It’s no wonder Apollo thought I needed Kyros resurrected. His ability to swiftly sort the worthy from unworthy in the crowd was one of his greatest assets. It cut down my time as the conduit for prophetic visions considerably.
As good as Renaldo is with managing the store, he’s never done well when anything out of the norm presents itself. It’s simply not his forte, but it’s never really been needed, either.
“Shit,” I repeat, realizing there’s only one way out of this—and Ren’s not going to like it.
Before I have the chance to open my mouth, Kyros appears on the garden bench to our left.
Renaldo squeaks out a high-pitched cry, clutching at his heart. His eyes nearly bug out of his head as he does a double-take between Kyros and me. Kyros, on the other hand, looks almost bored.
“Well, it’s about time,” he says, inching his way forward so he can rock himself off the bench. It’s a painful endeavor to watch as each movement takes ages to get the tiniest of traction.
“Did he—” Ren begins, his eyes about to fall out of his head. “Did he just…”
Clearly, his brain has short-circuited because he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
“What is the ridiculously groomed man on about?” Kyros asks, quirking a white bushy eyebrow.
Renaldo’s mouth pops open.
I hold out my hands, stepping between the two of them like a referee. “Guys, now’s not the time. We need to get this hot mess under control and I’m going to need both of you to make it happen.”
“Oh, hell, no. You said—” Ren starts.
I turn to face him, putting on my best mom face. “I know what I said. Look, you like dealing with the chaos out there as much as I do. Kyros loves it.”
“I do,” he agrees, nodding like a child.
Ren scrunches his face in disgust. “This is beyond insane. Did I trip and hit my head or something? I did, didn’t I?” He raises his hands to his head, feeling around his scalp.
“The man doesn’t see what’s in front of him, does he?” Kyros asks, hobbling over to me.
“You should talk,” Ren says, eyeing Kyros from top to bottom. “Have you seen your sad excuse for an outfit?”
Kyros puffs up his chest, but the woman on the other side of the gate rattles the door again before he blurts out a retort.
“Come on, I just need to talk. Please, Diana, you’re the only one who can help—” she says, her voice reaching an octave of desperation.
“Look, we can hash this out later. First, we need to manage this mess. Are you with me or aren’t you?” I say, jutting out my chin.
I might not want to take on this craziness, but if there’s one thing I won’t back down from, it’s a challenge. Apollo obviously believes he’s backing me into a corner, but I’m going to show him I can handle whatever punches he can throw.
And still get to my damn date with Blake.
Kyros sniffles, but juts out a hand. “I understand this is a sign of truce,” he practically whispers.
Ren’s back stiffens and his face flattens. His brown eyes dart over to me, but when I raise my eyebrows in return, he sighs in defeat. “Fine. Truce.” He extends his hand, taking Kyros’s offering.
“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I say, grinning.
“Don’t push your luck, Diana,” Ren snaps back, crossing his arms and jutting out a hip.
“All right, Ren, I need you to call Blake and tell him we have Kyros with us,” I say, acutely aware of the fact that I’m going to need to dive straight into readings. “Kyros, you’re up. Sort through the mess and send away the outliers. Only those with legitimate concerns are being seen today.”
“Understood,” Kyros says with a nod.
Ren opens his mouth, then closes it again. His thoughts are a jumbled mess of confusion and he doesn’t know what to say or do first. Either way, he’s fine staying out of the way.
“Oh, and Ren—you’re in charge of the books. Anyone unable to be seen today will need to find a spot in the coming days. I need you to operate the booking app. Kyros won’t have a clue,” I say, wincing slightly.
Ren mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, “for fuck’s sake.” But instead, he tips his head toward the door as he reaches for the handle. “Come on, old man. Showtime.”
Kyros nods, shuffling after him.
Tipping my head to the sky, I inhale a deep, centering breath.
So help me, this better work.
I straighten my shoulders and follow behind them, entering my reading room, so I can ready the space. Moving quickly, I light the candles and incense and take a seat at my glass reading table.
My vision strays to the clock on the wall, and I whimper.
1:14 p.m.
Please, for the love of all that’s holy, let this move along quickly.
10
Where the future leads
Four hours later, we’re nowhere near clearing the line of people weaving its way around the block. If anything, we’ve gained more people as the message of my return spreads around town. This is saying something because the town itself only has a handful of residents in the first place. Its size was part of the allure of Helena, but I’m now regretting the choice—even though I’m sure the location would have made no difference.
Dammit, Apollo.
“The Pythia appreciates your faith in her service, but I am afraid to be the bearer of bad news in that your request does not meet her requirements for today. As you can see, she’s a very busy woman,” Kyros says, trying to tactfully remove the woman currently in the front of the line.
“How can you say that? Didn’t you hear me? My pookie is missing,” she cries from the other room. “Surely that’s a big deal.”
“Ma’am, your dog is missing. As unfortunate as that may be, Diana’s been dealing with far bigger concerns,” Ren fires back, coming to Kyros’s aid. “So unless your dog is of national security, we’ve got to get real and prioritize here.”
I snicker to myself. National security—now that would be something.
Thankfully, the requests coming at me haven’t gotten that bad but helping her find a missing dog that’s probably in her back yard chasing squirrels isn’t high on the list.
“But—” the woman begins her rebuttal.
“Madam, I’m certain your pookie will turn up very soon,” Kyros says, using one of his more empathetic tones. “Now, a little tip, if I may…. I’ve found if you lay out some swine kidneys, they’ll race back to enjoy their feast. Perhaps give that a try?”
The woman gasps.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. As helpful as he is, Kyros still doesn’t have a clue how about how to deal with people in the modern era.
From my seat in the other room, I sense Kyros gently ushering the woman toward the door. Ren, on the other hand, actively pushes back the imagery of swine kidneys from his mind, and takes up the next person in line.
After all the bitching about working with Kyros, ironically, Ren has spent the better part of the past few hours tag-teaming like they’ve been doing it their whole life. Of course, I’m sure within seconds they could be at each other again. It’s
like dealing with siblings.
So far, I’ve seen only four people who have truly had something urgent to contend with. The rest of the time, it’s been lovesick women wanting to know if they’re in the right relationship, old ladies looking for something missing—pets, keys, passwords, you name it—or guys wanting to find the best way to earn more money or advance their careers.
None of which I’m even remotely interested in dealing with today.
The objective I gave the two of them was simple—it has to be life or death in some way. The rest can all wait for another day. Or better yet, be handed off to a different psychic who needs the money.
As it is, I can only take on one more client if I’m going to have any chance of getting out of this mess in time to go on my date with Blake. And there’s no way in hell I’m missing that. He’s already been so patient with me today.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I’ll choose one final person for myself, the rest will all have to go home and come back another day.
Dealing with the clientele on the front-end isn’t my cup of tea, but it’s pretty clear the barrage isn’t going to end unless I put the kibosh on the waiting list.
I get up from my reading table and throw my shoulders back.
I’m a big girl. I can do hard things.
When I enter the front part of the store, the chatter at the front of the line ceases and both Ren and Kyros turn to face me like I grew a second head.
Without even acknowledging them, I turn to the crowd. “Thank you all for coming today. I’m sorry to tell you that I only have enough time for one more client. The rest of you will have to go home and try again another day.”
“Are you kidding me?” One guy says from midway down the line. “I’ve been waiting here for three hours.”
I turn to face him and quirk an eyebrow. “No one asked you to stick around. If you don’t like the way I’m managing my time, feel free to find someone else to deal with your hormonal issue,” I spit back, plucking his question out of the air without even needing to hear him voice it. “By the way, it’s gonorrhea. Might want to get that looked at by an actual doctor.”
His expression is horrified as he clenches his fists and stalks off.
“Now, does anyone else have a problem with how we’re dealing with this line?” I ask, looking in the eye of each and every one of the people within the vicinity.
The rest of them shake their heads quickly and keep their mouths shut. Blessed relief.
“Excellent.” I nod, turning to Ren. “Do we have any final contenders? Or should I pluck one from the mix?”
Ren blinks rapidly, obviously confused by my hands-on approach to dealing with the crazy. “I, uh—”
“Amar—Diana,” Kyros says, correcting himself again. “I believe there is one that should be seen today.”
I turn to him and wait.
He clears his throat and hobbles his way out the door. When he returns, a young woman no older than sixteen is in his wake. Her clothing is dingy, like it hasn’t been washed for a while and her hair has lost some of its luster.
Instantly, I get the impression of a child within her aura—a little girl growing inside her. The feminine energy is clear, but sadness and anxiety pulsate in the energy around her, and it's enough to make me take a step back.
She escaped a very abusive situation and she doesn’t know who to turn to. She isn’t even sure why she’s here, since she doesn’t have the money to pay for it.
“Thank you, Kyros,” I say, reaching my hand out to her. “I think you’re right.”
“But she’s hardly been waiting—” a woman says near the front of the line. She draws her designer purse close to her body as if it’s some sort of status symbol that will protect her from any backlash.
I quirk an eyebrow, fighting the urge to tell her where to shove that purse.
Instead, I turn to the old man at my side. “Kyros, see to it that this woman finds an alternative psychic. I’m booked from now until the end of eternity.”
Kyros tips his head and Ren covers up a snicker.
“Do you know who I am?” the woman says indignantly.
As a matter of fact, I do. She’s the governor’s sister and she’s used his status to try and elevate her own. She doesn’t care who she hurts to get what she wants, and believe me, she’s used to getting anything and everything.
“I don’t make it a habit of getting to know every gold digger in the state,” I say, knowing full well where that statement will land. But I couldn’t care less.
The governor and I don’t see eye to eye either.
She gapes at me and I turn to the young girl. Extending my elbow, I say, “Ready?”
Her hand shakes as she places it inside my arm, but she nods.
“Ren, Kyros, please let everyone know we’re done here for the day. Then lock up,” I say, pushing out my energy to enforce my authority in the hopes that it will buffer the two of them. If everyone knows this is out of their control, they’re less likely to flip their shit on them.
“You heard the woman, time to lock up,” Ren says, clapping his hands in the air and vamoosing them with the flick of his wrists.
Those inside the storefront grumble, some making snide comments. Others take the news in relative stride, clearly planning to come back another time because they have brains left in their heads.
With the young woman in tow, we walk to the reading room. I stop beside the client's chair, depositing her in her seat. Walking around to the other side, I claim my spot and place my palms on the glass table. I close my eyes, tuning into her energy on a deeper level.
Not only is she pregnant, but homeless, hungry, and alone.
When I open my eyes, her discerning hazel gaze is locked on me.
Silence stretches between us as we observe each other for a moment. While she’s not psychic, this girl—Jessica—has a deep level of emotional intelligence. Something that she’s had to develop to maintain the peace inside her precarious home.
“Jessica,” I begin, “why don’t you tell me why you’re here.”
Her eyes are wide when I get her name right, but then she bites the edge of her lip, afraid to use her voice. Instead, she drops her gaze as she picks at the frayed cuticles on her right hand.
“Okay, how about this. I’ll start and you just let me know if I’m on the right track. Deal?” I say, softening my voice. “You’re scared and alone. It’s been a few weeks since you told your parents you were pregnant—”
With the word spoken out loud, her head snaps upright, and tears spring to her lids.
“Am I on the right track?” I ask, hoping she’ll gather the courage to finish. Sometimes, people like her are really just here, seeking permission to speak their truth.
“Yes,” she whispers, dropping her gaze again, shame flushing the features of her face.
“There is no judgment in this space,” I say, extending my hand across the table.
She drops her attention to my offering and she reaches out, tentatively placing her hand over mine. When our skin touches, a vision of a little girl with dark curly hair and chocolate skin comes to my mind. The two of them are playing and laughing at the park.
“Your daughter is mixed race.” It’s not a question.
Again she inhales and nods. “We love each other very much.”
“Then I don’t see a problem,” I say, knowing full well the problem isn’t with her boyfriend. In fact, as her situation blossoms inside my mind, it’s the exact opposite. He’s been looking for her and is scared out of his mind because he doesn’t know what’s happened to her.
Jessica’s right hand presses against her lips as she fights back tears. “My family, they…” The pain and anguish leak from her eyes, streaking down her cheeks.
I tighten my grip on her left hand. “Hey, look. I know it must feel like the end of the world right now, but it’s not. You have a very bright future together with your little girl and Jay. I see yo
u laughing and playing together. This dark place is temporary as you shift the reality you want to live in.”
She inhales sharply from her nose, blinking rapidly to see through her blurry eyes.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to make this work—” she confesses, swiping at her face.
I nod, glancing down at her frail hand and the way she holds onto me like I’m her only lifeline. “No one does. Not really. This thing called life is a cluster of crazy. It doesn’t matter if you’re sixteen, twenty-something, or a hundred and twenty. Things happen that we can’t control and sometimes we’re even the cause of it. But what matters is that we show up and do the best we can with what we have.”
The message resonates inside me, as much as I know it resonates for Jessica.
I might not want all of this shit—but what I do with it is what matters.
“Look, here’s what I’m picking up. You are obviously free to choose your own path, but I hope you’ll at least consider this. Deal?” I say, offering the message I receive from my abilities.
She nods, practically holding her breath.
“Sometimes those who are closest to us can’t see the growth we need to go through. Loving your family doesn’t mean you have to agree with everything they say or do. You can still love your family and not want to live with them. I see a path for you with Jay and his family. If you go to him, they’ll keep you and the baby safe,” I say, running my thumb across the outside edge of her hand.
“But I’m not his responsibility…” she whispers, tears streaming again.
“No, but the child growing inside you is. So, why not work together and see where the future leads?” I say, keeping my tone low. “Do you think you could do that?”
She thinks for a moment, her gaze locked on the glass table between us. When she looks up, she pushes a dirty blond strand of hair from her eyes as she nods.
“Good. Do you want to use my phone? Or can I drop you off somewhere?” I ask, not wanting to just turn her back out on the street without something concrete in the works.
She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Maybe a phone call would be good?”
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