Believe It or Not

by Tawna Fenske

  “But it’s a successful business,” Violet said. “Drew must have some savings or—”

  “His ex-wife took all the cash,” Sam interrupted. “That was the agreement when they divorced. Drew kept this place, and she pretty much wiped out the savings.”

  “A loan then?”

  “Maybe. I guess he’d have to weigh whether it’s worth it. Whether the clients would even follow us to a new location.”

  Violet clutched the note in her hand as a tear slid down her cheek.

  “Hey, don’t cry,” Sam said. “It’ll all work out. Don’t you believe that?”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  Sam gave her arm a squeeze and Violet took a breath, trying to steady herself. “How’s Jerry doing?” she asked. “Drew told me what happened.”

  She didn’t add “when he was yelling at me” or “it’s all my fault,” but that was in the back of her mind. She wondered how much Sam knew.

  “Jerry’s doing well,” Sam said. “They actually think he’ll be able to come back to work in a few weeks.”

  “You’ve seen him?”

  Sam nodded. “Jamie and I went to visit him at the hospital this morning. Jamie had all these plans for incorporating Jerry’s cast into a dance routine. He even had this idea where the two of them would pretend to get into a fight and—”

  “Wait, I thought Jamie was leaving. Afghanistan, right? Isn’t he going to build schools?”

  Sam shook her head. “Now that Jerry’s hurt, Jamie doesn’t want to leave him. He said Jerry needs him here. He thinks that may be his mission, to help Jerry recover.”

  “But… what about Jamie’s big plans?”

  Sam shrugged. “This seems to be his new plan. I don’t know if it’s a good one, but we’re glad to be able to keep Jamie safe here for a little while longer.”

  Violet sighed and stuffed the notice into her purse. “That’s good news. I mean, not that Jerry got hurt, but—”

  “I know,” Sam said. “I know what you mean.”

  Violet turned away and stuck her key in the door. Behind her, Sam cleared her throat.

  “Drew was asking about you this morning.”

  “Oh?”

  Violet didn’t look up, but she felt her heart starting to hammer in her chest.

  “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two—it’s none of my business, really—but, well, just don’t give up on him. He needs you. You’re good for him.”

  Violet swallowed back the tears and turned to look at Sam. She gave a dry little laugh, figuring it was better than a sob. “I don’t think I have any say in it. Drew’s the one who made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me.”

  “He’ll change his mind. He’s stubborn and a little hotheaded sometimes, but he’s smart. He knows you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Just give it time.”

  “Time,” Violet repeated. She shook her head and pushed open the front door. “You want to come in for a cup of tea?”

  “Thanks, but I have to run. Think about what I said though, okay?”

  “Okay. And Sam? I’m really sorry about everything.”

  “Don’t be.”

  With a sigh, Violet yanked the key out of the door and stepped inside, flipping on the lights. She spent the next few minutes robotically going about the business of watering the plants, feeding the mice, checking the messages. There were none from Jed Buckles, and Violet allowed herself to wonder briefly what the hell had happened there.

  If only he’d called.

  If only Violet had just gone through with the damn appointment, told Jed what Frank wanted her to say.

  None of this would have happened.

  Okay, some of it would have happened. The thing with Jerry, the fight with Drew, her stupid, idiotic confession about the songs.

  Violet winced, remembering the way Drew had looked at her. Like she was crazy, and not in a good way.

  Hell, maybe she was. Maybe it was a stupid theory. She’d been a moron to blurt it out like she had, when he was already poised to hate her. She might as well have lit his hair on fire and then peed on him to put it out.

  The phone rang, and Violet picked it up, depressed at the thought of giving yet another psychic reading.

  “Miss Moonbeam’s Psychic Pservices. This is Violet.”

  “Violet, honey… this is Mom.”

  “Hi, Moonbeam,” she said, tucking the phone against her shoulder. “I was just getting ready to come visit you.”

  Moonbeam gave a familiar squeak of delight. “Your gift just keeps getting more attuned, Violet. I was calling to ask you to come down here. It’s like we’re cosmically connected, dear.”

  “That’s great, Mom,” Violet said without enthusiasm. “Just let me wrap up a couple things here and I’ll be there in about an hour, okay?”

  “Actually, honey, can you get here a little sooner than that? There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”

  “Mom, I had a really rough night last night and I’ve got some bad news to share. I really think it would be best if we could talk alone for—”

  “Jed, dear, would you hand me that glass of water?”

  Violet stopped talking. “What did you just say?”

  “Sorry, honey, I wasn’t talking to you. Thanks, Jed, you’re an angel.”

  Violet swallowed. “Mom?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Who is your visitor?”

  “Oh, he’s a wonderful new client I just met last night and—”

  “Is his name Jed Buckles?”

  “Why yes, dear,” Moonbeam breathed. “My goodness, your psychic skills are just uncanny. I was just telling Jed that—”

  “I’ll be right there, Mom. Don’t let Jed leave.”

  Chapter 22

  Violet covered the distance to the rehab center in a fraction of the time it normally took. When she reached her mother’s room, her blouse was clinging to her sweaty back, and she was panting so hard one of the nurses frowned at her.

  Classy, Violet thought, and stopped in the doorway of her mother’s room to straighten her blouse and catch her breath.

  “Violet, dear, is that you? I sense your presence.”

  “Sure, Mom,” Violet said, not bothering to make a snarky comment as she strode into the room trying to project competence and professionalism.

  She stopped marching as she spotted the man lounging in the chair beside Moonbeam’s bed. He wore an off-white caftan tunic over loose-fitting trousers. His goatee looked like a breeding ground for a family of hamsters, and what little hair remained on his head was gathered in a sloppy braid at the nape of his neck. He looked like any other happy hippie in her mother’s circle of friends.

  But this happy hippie held her mother’s whole future in his happy-hippie hands. Did Moonbeam even know that?

  “Violet, honey,” Moonbeam said from her bed. “This is Mr. Jed Buckles. Jed, this is my daughter, Violet.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Violet,” he said, rising to take her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “You have?”

  “Oh, yes. Your mother has told me what a gifted clairvoyant you are. It actually made me feel shame for my actions, but everything has its purpose, don’t you agree?”

  “I—” Violet stopped, not sure she was following the conversation. She looked to Moonbeam for guidance, and quickly realized how bizarre that was. Things were really going downhill fast if she was seeking guidance from her mother.

  “Jed called me yesterday evening, dear,” Moonbeam said. “He wanted to consult with a psychic, and when he heard I was here—”

  “It’s nothing against you, Violet,” Jed interrupted. “I’m sure you’re every bit as talented as your mother says you are. But I’ve wanted a consultation with Miss Moonbeam for years, and when I heard she’d been injured… well, I just had to come here and see her. I was certain her powers would still be strong even in an environment like this.”


  “He’d heard about me all the way from Santa Fe,” Moonbeam said, beaming. “Isn’t that something?”

  “That is something,” Violet said, still trying to find her way through the conversation. “So Mr. Buckles, what brings you out to Portland? Besides my mother, that is.”

  “Oh, I’ve had a second home here for years. My wife is an artist, and she teaches classes at Reed College from time to time.”

  Violet winced a little at the mention of his wife, remembering Frank’s repeated claims of intimacy with the woman. Still oblivious, Jed kept right on talking.

  “Anyway,” Jed said, “we’ve been looking to buy some investment property here for years, and my wife has been talking with your landlord for quite some time.”

  “Talking,” Violet repeated carefully.

  “Well, fucking, too. We have an open marriage, you see.”

  Violet stared at him, completely speechless.

  Jed carried on, looking like it was the most natural thing in the world to discuss his sexual practices with a woman he’d just met.

  “So Meredith—that’s my wife—she and I want to open a vegan café. Frank showed us a number of different properties that would be just perfect, including the one that currently houses Miss Moonbeam’s shop.”

  “And Drew Watson’s bar,” Violet added, instinctively wanting to remind them all there was more at stake here than just one person’s livelihood.

  “Right,” Jed said. “We were really torn about what to do. The other property is down on the waterfront, and just perfect for the restaurant, but we just loved the aura of your building.”

  “Well, the aura actually gets smelly from time to time,” Violet pointed out, hoping there was still a chance to change things.

  Moonbeam shot Violet a quick frown before smiling serenely back at Jed.

  “Jed and Meredith consulted the stars and talked with their syncretistic guide and even used peyote to induce an altered state, but they still weren’t certain what to do,” she said. “So they came here last night for a private consultation.”

  “You… you gave them a psychic reading?” Violet asked. “Here?”

  “Of course, dear. I know the doctors said I shouldn’t, but this seemed like a special occasion I should make an exception for. The three of us joined hands and—”

  “So you’re not buying our building?” Violet asked Jed, feeling a flood of relief. “Moonbeam told you it was a bad idea?”

  Jed gave her a perplexed look, stealing quick glance at Moonbeam. “No, Moonbeam said it was a wonderful idea.”

  Violet blinked at her mother. “I don’t understand.”

  “Violet, honey, I just follow what the voices say.”

  “The voices,” Violet repeated, her own voice tinged with disbelief. “The voices said to displace two businesses that have been thriving there for years? The voices said it wouldn’t matter that Drew will have an impossible time trying to start over again? The voices said—”

  “Violet, honey,” Moonbeam said, looking baffled. “We’re not going anywhere. Neither is Drew.”

  “What?”

  “That’s the best part, dear. I consulted with the higher powers, who suggested that Jed and Meredith should purchase our property and leave everything exactly the same.”

  “It’s an excellent investment,” Jed said proudly. “With such established tenants who pay the rent on time. And I just feel such a cosmic connection to that space, the idea of owning the building that houses Miss Moonbeam’s Psychic Pservices.”

  Violet shook her head. “But what about your vegan café? Are you buying Frank’s other property, too?”

  “Heavens, no,” Jed said. “As a matter of fact, Miss Moonbeam offered us some invaluable guidance there, too.”

  “She did,” Violet said flatly.

  “Yes, it seems there’s a viable market for legalized medical marijuana in this state, and Moonbeam has identified a tremendous opportunity for the three of us to enter into a mutually beneficial growing and distribution operation together.”

  Moonbeam smiled. “Dr. Abbott stopped by to check on me when we were hammering out the details, and he said he might consider partnering with us as well. Offering medical consultation and a bit of extra capital.”

  Violet stared at them. “You’re starting a pot plantation together.”

  “Perfectly legal,” Moonbeam piped up. “I applied for the permits two months ago. All I needed was a business partner.”

  A business partner with cash, Violet thought.

  She looked at her mother, not sure whether to be aghast or proud. Or some combination of both.

  The story of your life, Violet.

  “Wow,” Violet said, bending down to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Congratulations to all of you. I’m sure it will be a mutually beneficial partnership.”

  “Oh, certainly,” Jed said, beaming. “Once Moonbeam is healed, we’ve invited her to take part in our swingers group.”

  Moonbeam nodded, but Violet caught just the faintest hint of a grimace. “Just as soon as my doctor clears it.”

  “You’re totally welcome to participate, Violet,” Jed offered. “I mean, if that wouldn’t be too strange for you, with your mother and all.”

  “My mother,” Violet repeated, shaking her head as she looked at Moonbeam. “Strange doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

  ***

  Down the hall, Drew was playing a ferocious game of old maid with Jamie and Jerry in Jerry’s hospital room. He was pretty sure Jerry was cheating, but he didn’t care enough to call him on it.

  Hell, he didn’t care about much of anything right now.

  “Everything okay, boss?” Jamie asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Well, that’s the third time you’ve tried to play the two and the three of spades as a pair.”

  “Right,” Drew said, looking down at his hand. “Sorry. My mind’s not really on the game right now.”

  “His mind is on Violet,” Jamie said knowingly to Jerry. “She’s the one who almost got you arrested.”

  “Bitch,” Jerry said without venom. “Hey, is it my turn?”

  Jamie held up his cards for Jerry to take one. “You should probably think about forgiving her,” Jamie pointed out. “Maybe once the cast comes off.”

  “Maybe,” Jerry agreed. “Hey, don’t let me forget there’s a show about monster trucks that’s on in fifteen minutes.”

  Drew waited for more deep thoughts from Jamie or Jerry, but apparently they’d said all they needed to say.

  Clearly they hadn’t grasped the severity of the situation. Clearly they didn’t realize the trouble they were in with the business. Clearly they didn’t know what a phony Violet was. Clearly they weren’t in love with her…

  In love?

  Jesus, he wasn’t in love with her. Not in a million years. So they’d had phenomenal sex. So he found himself listening for her voice every day, watching for her in the hall, thinking about her when she wasn’t around.

  That didn’t mean anything. He was just horny. That was all.

  “So you think we can get one of those new black-light things for the corner stage, boss?” Jamie asked, shuffling the cards nonchalantly. “I saw one online and it’s really cool.”

  “Sure. Whatever.”

  Drew felt a stab of guilt not cluing the guys in about the sale of the building. He hadn’t decided yet what to do. Whether he could cobble together the funds to start over again someplace else, or if he should just throw in the towel. He wished there were someone he could talk to, someone with a good head for numbers.

  “Violet,” Jamie said.

  Drew looked up, startled. “What?”

  “In the doorway,” he said, waving over Drew’s shoulder. “Hey, Violet. Want to play old maid?”

  “Bitch,” said Jerry without menace before turning back to Jamie. “Dude, do you have a king?”

  “Hello,” Violet said from the doorway. “I just brought these for Jerry, but I can come
back—”

  “Woah!” Jamie said. “Stripper Dude magazine. Where did you find those?”

  “There’s a magazine shop downtown that has a lot of unusual selections,” she said, taking a cautious step into the room. “I just thought maybe while Jerry’s recovering—”

  “Bitch,” said Jerry, but reached out eagerly to take the magazines.

  “I’m really sorry, Jerry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to cause you trouble. I jumped to a bad conclusion. Can you forgive me?”

  Jerry looked up from the pile of magazines in his lap and frowned at her. “You think you could get me some extra Jell-O?”

  “What color?”

  “Red. They only have green and yellow here, but I want red.”

  “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  “A blowjob?”

  “Um…”

  “Don’t be disrespectful,” Jamie said, flipping through one of the magazines.

  Jerry sighed. “You can play old maid with us if you want.”

  “Thanks, Jerry,” Violet said. “That means a lot to me. Maybe a little bit later?”

  Drew watched the whole exchange with his heart in his throat. When Violet’s eyes swung toward him, he felt his heart twist.

  “Drew, could I maybe talk to you alone for a minute?”

  Drew blinked and tried to remember why he hated her.

  “Please?” she asked, and touched his arm.

  Drew stood up and set his cards down on Jerry’s tray table. “I’ll be right back, guys.”

  He followed her out into the hallway. He expected her to stop in the waiting area, but she kept going, trudging through the parking lot and into the parking garage. Drew tagged along, feeling like an idiot, but also intrigued. She pushed the button for the elevator.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “My car.”

  “Am I being kidnapped?”

  She looked at him. “You’re free to go.”

  He shrugged. “I’m curious what I’m worth in ransom.”

  Violet sighed. “Drew, I’m sorry. I already said so. I should have talked to you about Jerry before I talked to the police.”

  Drew said nothing, but he nodded once. They stepped into the elevator and Violet pressed the button for the sixth floor. They rode in silence for a few seconds, Violet standing so close to him he could smell her shampoo. He felt himself getting light-headed and had to remind himself to be angry.