by Laura Del
I blinked at her. “Yes, I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy that’s all. I just need to use your bathroom a second.”
“Sure, sweetie,” she replied as she and Cindy helped me to stand.
I hobbled to the back of the shop, banging into the one- stall restroom. Before I knew it, my head was over the toilet, and I vomited up everything I ate. Splashing cold water on my face, I told myself to keep it together. After all, Kathryn herself had said that all her visions were subjective, but I was still going to have to warn Mike. Then I remembered that I had left my cell and purse on my bed, and I hit my forehead with my palm. So warning him about any of this would have to wait.
Taking a deep breath, I rinsed my mouth out with some water, and I walked back out, trying to keep a smile on my face.
“You okay?” Cindy asked, and I nodded. Her eyes grew dark, and she glared at me as if she knew I was lying to her. She blinked a few times, and the look was replaced with concern. “Maybe we should just go home, Pat. We can do the cake tasting tomorrow. What do you say?”
I shook my head, figuring I might as well just get it all over and done with. Besides, doing mundane things would keep me from panicking. “No, I’m fine. Really. Besides, what’s a little bit of cake going to do to me, right?”
Mrs. A laughed, shaking her head. “That’s our Pat. Always pushing the limits.”
Cindy smiled at her, and then at me. But I noticed that it didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay. If you say you’re all right then you’re all right.” They both helped me back up on the pedestal, and Mrs. A finished pinning me.
The rest of the morning went by without incident. Mrs. A told Cindy the dresses would be ready on time, if my sister showed up to claim hers, and then we went to taste some cake. Most of it was good, and Edna, the baker, did her best not to mention the fact that the cake we picked was the cake I had ordered for my own wedding. You know, before it all went to hell in a handbasket. Cindy settled on two tiers of chocolate and a middle tier of vanilla cake. Then we decided the vanilla bean butter cream icing was the best. And when Edna asked if she wanted fondant, Cindy just smiled and replied, “Surprise me.”
After that, Cindy asked me to drop her off at Pop’s shop, gave me her house keys, and then suggested that I go home to get some rest. And since my duties as a matron of honor were done for the day, I decided to take her advice. Once I was back at the house and parked on the street, I zipped my coat up to my neck because it was bitter out. However, before I even got out of the car to rush inside so I could call Mike, I noticed that he was sitting on the front step.
There sat Mr. James Collins with a Scottie dog saddled up next to him. I had composed myself before I got out of the car, and once I shut the car door, he stood up and had the nerve to smile at me. “Patty,” he said, and I glared at him.
“It’s Ms. Wyatt to you, jackass,” I hissed, ready to hit him if necessary.
“Pat, listen to me,” he begged as I walked up the path, “I need to talk to you.”
“Go away,” I yelled, trying to get around him, but he blocked my way.
“Why won’t you ever let me explain?”
I scowled at him. “Explain what, James? You made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want me when you fucked my sister the day before our wedding. So excuse me if I don’t give a shit about your pathetic explanations. And who the hell told you I was here, anyway?”
“Alexandria,” he explained. He still had that boyish handsomeness, and it made me sick to look at him. “We’re,” he cleared his throat, “together.”
Feeling my fists clench at my sides, I finally managed to push him out of the way. Then he grabbed my elbow, and I guessed the look in my eyes made him let me go as soon as he touched me. “Please,” he breathed, his eyes pleading with mine, “just let me talk to you.”
“You know what? There was a time when I would have fallen for your bullshit, but you don’t know what I’ve been through these past couple of months. I have dealt with things that you would never have dreamed of in your puny little existence. So leave me alone, James. I mean it. Because you do not want to fuck with me. Got it, Jimmy Wimmy?” I bellowed in his face.
He swallowed, hard. “Sorry to bother you, Ms. Wyatt. I’ll leave.”
“Good,” I hissed.
“But I want you to know,” he said as I put the key in the lock, “that I still have feelings for you, and I always will.”
“Whoop dee frigging doo.” And with that, I walked in the house.
It wasn’t even noon yet, and I had to deal with my ex-fiancé telling me that he still had feelings for me. “Anything else?” I asked the Universe, but there was no answer. I needed to think before I spoke to anyone about anything, and there was only one thing I could do.
I made my way down the hall and turned left finding the garage door. As soon as I walked inside, I flipped the switch, letting the light flood my senses. There she was, the old pickup my father had been working on since I was a kid. She was covered with dust and looked like she hadn’t been worked on since I left. The truck was a little rusty around the edges, but she was what I needed at that very moment. A distraction.
Throwing my jacket on the workbench, I rolled up the sleeves of my sweatshirt and decided to dig right in. Pops had left the tool belt on the front seat, so I opened the door, placed it on the ground, and then popped the hood. When I opened her up, she whined at me, and I smiled. Putting the tool belt on, I kicked the stool Pops had bought me years ago over to the side of the truck, and I moved in. She was a mess. Everything was out of place, and it took me three tries to get the oil filler cap off the damn thing, but not before I cut my finger on it.
“Shit,” I said quietly and with feeling. But after that little hiccup, everything started to go smoothly, and my mind began to wander. I thought about the vision, Mike, and finally James. And my mind went back to a time before all the monster and the cheaters. Back to when I was just a kid having some summer fun.
“Crud,” I remembered screaming, sucking on my right index finger. I had scratched it on a piece of metal. Thankfully, it wasn’t bleeding, so I just went back to work. The garage door was wide open because it was so hot out. And after a minute of me working on the truck, Jess came out wearing a pink polka dot bikini, setting up her beach chair on the driveway.
“Jessie,” I called out.
“What, twerp?” she asked, rubbing herself all over with baby oil. She even put the oil in her dark blonde hair. It was gross. But she was four years older than me, and when you’re thirteen and your sister is seventeen, it’s a big difference. She is always the boss of you, and you’re forced to look up to her. And if she’s anything like my sister, she never lets you forget it.
“Wanna come and help me with the truck?” I asked nicely, trying to get her to bite. I mean, I just wanted her to do something with me.
“Not on your life,” she said, lying back in the chair.
“Fine,” I huffed, “be a fuddy-duddy.”
“I’m tellin’ Moms you cursed,” she whined.
“Fuddy-duddy is not a curse.”
“Yeah, it is,” she argued with me.
“Moms,” I yelled.
“What?” she answered, her voice muffled by the walls.
“Is fuddy-duddy a curse word?” I asked her, knowing I was right.
“No, sweetheart, it’s not.”
“See?” I said, sticking my tongue out at my older sister.
“Whatever,” she breathed and went back to tanning.
“Patricia darling,” Moms yelled, “your father wants you to check the engine on that bucket of bolts so he won’t be out there all bloody night long.”
“Right away, Moms,” I answered with gusto.
“And be careful,” she told me.
“You got it!” I positioned the stool so that I could look over the side. The engine was a m
ess. Every part was either borrowed from another truck or just didn’t fit properly, but I worked on it anyway. It was my job, and I did it well.
I heard Jess shift in her chair, and a dog bark. “Hey there, Jim,” she cooed at him, and I turned to smile at the old Golden Retriever he was walking.
“Buddy,” I said, and he came bounding up to me as Jim let the leash go. Buddy loved being petted by me, and he absolutely hated my sister, which made me love him more. I jumped off the stool, getting to my knees in the process. The dog licked me while I scratched his ears, listening to my sister and Jim’s conversation.
“When are you gonna ask me to the prom, Jim?” she asked him. She was the head cheerleader, and he was the captain of the wrestling team, before Bobby. So naturally, Jess thought he belonged to her.
“I’m not goin’,” he replied, and I could hear her gasp. “But, you know, if I decide to I’ll let you know.”
“You better, James Collins,” she purred, and I looked up to see her pointing her breasts at him. “Or I’ll be very upset.”
“Will do,” he placated her then looked at me. “I better go get Buddy before he eats your sister.”
Jess leaned back in her chair, putting her sunglasses on. “Wouldn’t be a great loss,” she muttered, and Buddy barked at her.
“Good boy,” I whispered in his ear, and he licked me again.
“How are you, Pat?” Jim asked, kneeling down next to me.
I shrugged. “Fine. You?”
“Good,” he said loudly and then whispered, “Please, Pat.”
I shook my head. “No,” I answered quietly. Jim had asked me to go to prom with him.
He sighed. “Why are you making this so hard for me?”
“You’re too old for me. That’s why.” I got up off the ground, and Buddy followed me to the truck.
Jim helped me back onto the stool, and he watched in silence for about five minutes while he handed me the right tools at the right time. Then he started in on me again. “Please, Patty Melt, I’m dying.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not dying. You’re just a teenage boy with too many hormones. That’s all.”
“You say that every time I come here,” he huffed. By now, Jess was listening to her music full blast with her headphones on, so she was unable to hear anything. “I love you, Pat. I never felt like this before, and it’s killing me.”
“You’re too old for me,” I repeated clearly. He was getting annoying.
“It’s only four years, Pat,” he sighed. “Besides, you let me kiss you last week, and I can’t think of anything else.”
I had let him kiss me only because he was asking so much. But it was nice, and I did feel something for him. “It was okay,” I admitted.
He nudged my shoulder. “See? I’m not the big, bad wolf. I just love you.” He placed his hand on my waist and pulled me to him. Then, making sure Jess didn’t see him, he kissed me again, and I nearly melted. “Come to prom with me?” he asked, but I shook my head, and he sighed. “Stubborn. Then say you’ll wait for me. That when I come back from college, we can be together.”
“Okay,” I conceded with a sigh, “I’ll wait for you. Now go ask Jessie to prom before she pitches a fit.”
He nodded, smiling that bright, handsome smile of his. Then he took Buddy’s leash and tapped Jessica on the shoulder.
Someone was ringing the doorbell as I was wiping my hands on my jeans. I came back to the present so fast that I lost my balance and nearly tripped. Once I shook all those old feelings off, I made my way to the front door as quickly as I could. I opened it to find a very handsome African American gentleman on the front porch. He was dressed to the nines in a blue tie and navy blue suit. He was very tall, and his hair was clipped close to his head. His skin was the color of milk chocolate, and I couldn’t help but notice that he had golden eyes. Not brown with a hint of gold, actually gold. He kind of looked like a hawk.
“Patricia Anne Wyatt, correct?” he asked in a deep and musical voice.
“Yes,” I answered, mesmerized by his eyes. “Who are you?”
“I’m Mike’s friend.” He avoided answering, but there was something about his demeanor that made me kind of trust him.
Those eyes… “Mike never talked about you,” I managed to say through my awe.
He laughed a little. “I’ll get him for that later.”
I shook myself. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes,” he replied, looking around, “but right now you need to come out.”
“Why?” I asked. But before he could explain, he grabbed me gently by my arm. After a second, there was this loud crash, and I turned to see the Christmas tree had come crashing down where I once stood.
I looked up at Mike’s friend and could feel my face scrunch in confusion. “What are you?”
“I’m Andrew McNeil,” he finally told me. “And I’m clairvoyant.”
I don’t know whether it was the fact that a tree almost fell on me or the stress of the day, but before I could say another word, I passed out.
chapter
SIX
After Andrew had splashed some water on my face, waking me up from a dead faint, he helped me put the Christmas tree back in the living room, making sure that nothing was broken or scratched. Luckily, there was only minor damage to the house, but there were pine needles everywhere, so while I swept up the mess, I kept wondering why I had fainted. Was it because I was tired? Or was it the fact that I had seen Mike die by Kathryn’s hands and all the stress from this morning in the dress shop was catching up to me? Maybe it was due to the injures that still hadn’t healed. Whatever it was, it really started to worry me. I hated fainting. I had no control when it happened, and I seemed to be doing it a lot lately.
“You know,” Andrew said from behind me, and I jumped, “fainting is a perfectly normal reaction to stress.”
I glared at him. “What? I thought you said you were clairvoyant, not a mind reader.”
“Oh, I am,” he said, smiling at me a little. “But, uh, you were mumbling to yourself.”
“Was I?” I asked, worried. And here I thought that I was just having an internal conversation.
“Yeah, but it’s no big deal,” he answered with a shrug, “I do it all the time.” He got on his knees, dustpan in hand, and I swept the needles into it gently. Then he got up, taking the trash with him.
I started to think again, this time I made sure it was only in my head. Why was he here? Why had Mike sent him? I decided it would just be better to ask him. “Andrew?”
“Huh?” he replied, walking back to me.
“Why are you here?”
“Um…” he paused, looking down at his shiny shoes, “Mike sent me to check on you. You know, to see if you were okay.”
I pursed my lips and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Uh-huh,” I said skeptically. “Why are you really here?”
He looked at me a little shocked. “Well, shit. How did you know I was lying?”
“I guessed. And if Mike hasn’t told you, I’m a very good guesser. You also just confirmed it.” That whole guessing thing was true. I always had these feelings when something was off, and after Andrew answered me, I just knew he wasn’t telling me the truth.
He smiled, shaking his head a little. “You’re good.”
“So,” I prompted, “why are you really here?”
“You had a vision earlier today?” he asked, and I nodded. I admit I was a little freaked out he knew about it, but what did I expect from a psychic. “Well…” he paused again, this time taking a breath, “that’s why I’m here. I had the same one. So I called Wolf, and he suggested, since he’s persona non grata, that I get here just to see what was goin’ on.”
“Well, when you figure that out, I would love to know.”
“Pat?” he said, and I just looked at him. “You shouldn�
�t worry about it. The damn thing probably won’t come true anyway.” I nodded, sighing, and he got down on his knees once more as I swept the remainder of the needles in the dustpan. Suddenly, my cell phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” Andrew announced, placing the dustpan down so he could run upstairs to get it off my bed. The second he came back, he handed it to me.
I smiled at him in thanks, finally answering. “Hello?”
“Pat, did Andy get there?” Mike asked from the other end.
“Yes,” I snapped, “he did. Why couldn’t you have called him?”
“He doesn’t own a phone,” he explained. “He says they mess with his abilities.”
“Good to know,” I sighed. “Anything else?”
“You mad at me?” he sounded concerned, and I couldn’t tell if it was for himself or me.
“Why would I be mad at you? I mean, all I’m trying to do is get away from all this supernatural nonsense, and you keep on sending it my way. Is there anyone else who the werewolves and the vampires can bother? Or is it just me?” I was screaming, and I hadn’t meant to, but I was just so frustrated.
“Nope,” Andrew said from the kitchen, smiling at me.
And I couldn’t help myself. I just laughed.
“This is Andrew,” I introduced him to Cindy, right after I explained why some of the plastic ornaments on the tree were dented. Cindy had walked into a bit of a mess, and she wanted to make sure that I was all right. She also wanted to know who the very dapper, her words exactly, man was sitting at my father’s kitchen table. I explained that he was a friend of Mike’s and that he saved my life.
“Well,” Cindy said with a smile, “it’s nice to meet you, Andrew. I’m Cindy, Pat’s father’s fiancée.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he replied, standing. But when he held his hand out to shake hers, she pulled him into a hug, whispering something in his ear. He nodded and said, “No problem.” I assumed she was thanking him.
She pulled back smiling. “You have to stay here with us.”
