You need adventure, Hope. Fall in love with someone other than Lucas, Hope. Live your life or you’ll regret it, Hope.
Hope groaned. She didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Not again.
“This isn’t a life lecture, bunny,” Angela said, giving her a tiny smile. “We’re past those now.”
Hope blinked. “Did you just hear my thoughts?”
“What do you think?”
Irritation made way for pure frustration, and Hope scowled at her mother. “Don’t do this. Not now. Earlier this evening I heard both Joy and Grace’s thoughts, and then just now, you seemed to speak directly into my mind. I have zero patience for games. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Angela placed both of her palms on the table and pursed her lips as she nodded slowly. “I didn’t just come home to celebrate your birthday.”
“Okay.” Hope leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “So why are you here? Are you opening a new business? Met a new guy? Or woman?” Hope’s mother had dated across the spectrum of genders. Her only consistency was that none of them ever lasted longer than a few months. Other than the fact that Hope only dated men, she and her mother had a lot in common when it came to their love lives. Nothing ever lasted.
“No. I’m here to help you with the transition.” She gave Hope a small smile.
“You mean menopause? ‘Cause if so, I think I’ve got a handle on things,” Hope shot back, tired of the runaround her mother was giving her.
“Not quite, bunny.” She ran her fingers along the bottom of her chin. “You might want to get the tweezers out before you head to bed tonight.”
Hope couldn’t help herself; she touched her chin and grimaced. “Thanks for that. Super helpful.”
“I’m always looking out for my girl.”
“If only that were true,” Hope said dryly.
Angela let out a sigh and leaned forward. “It is true, Hope. There’s a reason why I’ve kept my distance, and it’s not because I didn’t want to be here.”
“You don’t have to explain.” The truth was that Hope didn’t want to hear her mother’s explanation. For a long time, Hope had been resentful that her mother cut out of Premonition Pointe, leaving Hope on her own at such a young age. But she’d mostly put all of that behind her and just accepted that her mother had different priorities.
“Hope,” her mother said, sounding exasperated. “I’m trying to tell you something important. It’s about you suddenly hearing your friends’ thoughts.”
Hope blinked, momentarily stunned. Then she placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Okay. You have my attention.”
“Three months before you turned eighteen, I turned forty-six and was afflicted with a family curse passed down from my great-grandmother, Moira Anderson.” Angela closed her eyes for a moment and then gulped down some more champagne before continuing. “Every Anderson woman in Moira’s line suffers from the curse right before she turns forty-six years old. Apparently, it was a spell gone bad that no witch has been able to reverse.”
Realization dawned on Hope. “You mean we’ve been cursed with telepathy?”
Angela nodded. “For me, it’s uncontrollable. I hear the thoughts of almost everyone, and it’s overwhelming. It’s gotten a little easier to manage in the past few years, but I still can’t block out the thoughts of people close to me.”
She’s been reading my mind all these years? Holy mother of the goddess, Hope thought.
“That’s why I left,” Angela said quietly as she stared at her untouched piece of cheesecake.
A rush of anger surged through Hope’s body, and she stood so fast that her chair toppled over. “You’ve not only been able to read my thoughts, but you didn’t tell me. And then you left, making me think… oh, hell. Never mind what I thought.” She threw her hands up and hurried from the kitchen, heading straight for her room. There was no way she could talk calmly with her mother. Not right then. Not when she felt like her insides were being ripped apart. Hope spent twenty-eight years thinking her mother had abandoned her. And every time they were together during all of that time, Hope had resented her mother, no doubt thinking terrible things she’d never say out loud, and her mother had heard it all.
“Hope! Wait!” Angela called as she rushed after her daughter.
“Why should I?” Hope spun around, her body shaking from the turmoil racking her emotions. “You kept this to yourself for twenty-eight years. Why do you want to talk now?”
“Because I want to help you navigate this.” I don’t want you to suffer like I did.
It was her mother’s thoughts and not her words that sucked all the anger out of Hope. Her shoulders slumped, and she pressed a hand to her forehead as she made her way into the living room and took a seat in her oversized chair.
Angela sat in the corner of the couch, perched on the edge with her hands clasped together. “I owe you an explanation.”
“I think that’s an understatement,” Hope said, curling up into herself and side eyeing her mother.
There was silence between them for a long moment until Angela finally said, “I’m sorry, Hope. I know what my silence did to you. My only defense is that I wanted you to live a normal life, one that didn’t revolve around this curse for as long as possible.”
Hope’s frown deepened. “I don’t get it. What would’ve been the harm in telling me? At the very least, I’d have been prepared when I started hearing my friends’ thoughts.”
Angela stared at her nails as if they were the most interesting thing she’d seen in ages. “You don’t understand. I knew the curse was coming before it happened. My grandmother told me after you were born. I spent seventeen years stressed about what this would do to my mental state and my relationships. My grandmother Rosie was convinced it was the reason my mother died young. Her death was ruled as an accident when her car went off the road, but Rosie wasn’t convinced. Mom didn’t handle hearing other people’s thoughts well.”
“She thought Grandma Mary drove off that cliff on purpose?” Hope asked, horrified. She’d heard the stories. Her mother’s mom had gone out in a storm, supposedly for milk and eggs, and had never come back. Except Harriet, their longtime neighbor, said she’d never understood why because there was a gallon of milk and a full carton of eggs already in the refrigerator that evening. Harriet knew because she had stayed with Angela that night after she’d gotten the news about Mary’s accident, and she made Angela breakfast the next morning.
“Yes. She was certain of it, but she let everyone think it was an accident to preserve the family name.” There was disgust on her face, making Hope question her mother’s relationship with her grandmother for the first time.
Hope knew Angela hadn’t had a great relationship with her own mother, but she’d thought she was close with Grandma Rosie. Is that why things were so tense all the time? Did Mom blame her for the curse?
“No, bunny. I didn’t blame her, but I was angry at Grandma for a long time for not being honest about what happened,” Angela said, sounding sad. “The truth is that I was angry at everyone for a long time. Everyone except you. It killed me to leave here. But I need you to understand that once I started hearing people’s thoughts, it was overwhelming. I couldn’t shut them out. It was all the time. I needed to live alone for my own sanity and for your privacy. The last thing I needed to be hearing were the private thoughts of my eighteen-year-old daughter.”
Hope stared at her mother with her mouth open as she thought through what kinds of things her mother had heard in her mind. At eighteen, Hope had been head over heels in love with Lucas. They’d been dating for about six months, and he’d been her first for almost everything… oh, hell, she thought and felt her face heat with embarrassment. She could only imagine the thoughts and images that had been going through her mind.
Angela nodded. “You needed your privacy. I needed to give you that gift while dealing with my own mental health.”
Hope narrowed her eyes at h
er. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Maybe then I wouldn’t have spent the past twenty-eight years resenting you.” There was no reason to not voice what she was thinking. It was just starting to sink in that her mother would hear her thoughts anyway.
“I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to go through the anxiety and turmoil that I had. Why tell you and let it take over your life before it kicked in? I wanted you to lead a normal life that I didn’t get to have. I did it to help you.”
Help? Did it help that she’d thought her mother abandoned her? Did it help when Lucas left and she felt like there was something wrong with her because the people she loved most kept leaving her? She stared at her mother, seeing her pain reflected back at her, and she knew her mother was reading her thoughts.
Tears filled Angela’s eyes, and Hope knew she should say something. Anything to acknowledge that she understood her mother hadn’t meant to intentionally hurt her. That while she didn’t agree that it was better to keep the truth from her, Hope could at least understand her mother’s reasons. But she couldn’t force the words out. Instead she just felt numb.
“I can’t do this right now.” Hope pushed herself out of her chair. “I just… I need to process.”
“I understand.” Angela reached out and grabbed Hope’s hand and squeezed it lightly. When Hope didn’t return the gesture, Angela let go and sighed. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”
Hope nodded once and disappeared into her room.
She leaned against her bedroom door and closed her eyes, wondering if there was a spell for turning back time. Just a few weeks ago she’d been perfectly happy with her life. She’d been casually seeing a man who’d wanted the same thing she did—to have a good time. No commitments. No expectations. Then Lucas had walked back into town and she’d suddenly lost interest in her fling. And now her mother was there, ready to talk for the first time ever. It was too much, and both Lucas and her mother were wreaking havoc on the life she’d created for herself just by being in Premonition Pointe.
“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “Not today. Not tomorrow. And not next week.” It didn’t matter why they were in town or if she could read minds now. She wasn’t going to let them or anything else knock her off her game. After fishing her phone out of her pocket, she hit Benji’s number.
“Hey, gorgeous. Long time no talk,” he said.
Hope could hear the smile in his voice, and it put her at ease. Benji was a cool guy, and she always had a good time when they saw each other. “It’s been a little busy here. What about you? I haven’t gotten a call either.”
He chuckled. “You know me. Just following the waves. I spent the last few months in Hawaii. But I’m back now.” His tone was flirty and suggestive.
“Are you free this weekend? Saturday night?” she asked.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Hope ended the call, expecting to feel more like herself. Instead, all she felt was a faint sense of unease. “Dammit,” she muttered and flopped onto her bed, scattering the mountain of pillows.
Chapter Three
Hope whipped her Toyota Highlander into the last available parking spot and then ran a across the lot through the light drizzle to the Liminal Space Day Spa. After watching reruns of Golden Girls until two in the morning, she’d finally fallen asleep and woke up twenty minutes after the spa salon opened. After some serious begging, Lance had agreed to fix her hair but only if she came in right away.
“I’m here,” she called as she rushed through the door.
Lance, who was busy giving Gigi Martin a blow out, turned and let out a gasp so loud it was audible over the blow dryer.
“Oh, stop. It’s not that bad,” she cried, bringing both hands up to pat her runaway curls.
Gigi met Hope’s gaze in the mirror and grimaced. Gigi was relatively new in town. She’d left her abusive husband and purchased one of the haunted houses Grace had been tasked to sell when she first started working for Landers Realty. Gigi was dressed in a white sundress and had sun-kissed skin. Her honey blond hair practically glowed, making Hope feel even more like a swamp creature.
“Crap. It really is that bad, isn’t it?” Hope slumped over the front counter, hiding her face.
“Don’t worry, Hope,” Lance said soothingly. “You’ve come to the right place. I’ll turn you back into a swan.”
She glanced up at the big beautiful black man and gave him a weak smile. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Oh, honey. If I can turn a six-foot-four drag queen with a five o’clock shadow into a supermodel, then there’s no need for you to worry. I’ll tame those curls and take care of your whiskers.”
“Whiskers?” Hope squeaked.
He tapped his chin and then winked at her. “It happens to the best of us, darling. But that’s why you’re here. Uncle Lance has got you covered.”
“Whiskers?” Hope heard Gigi ask him, and she took a seat to wait for her turn in the chair.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about, Ms. Gigi. At least not for another ten years or so.” He went to work on styling her hair, and ten minutes later, he helped her out of her chair.
Gigi moved with the grace of a ballet dancer toward the front counter. She glanced over at Hope. Great skin. I wonder what products she uses.
“Hazel’s Witching System,” Hope said automatically.
Gigi blinked at her. “What?”
Hope repeated herself and added, “My skin routine. You asked about it.”
“I did?” Gigi gave her a strange look and then let out a nervous laugh “I honestly didn’t realize I said that out loud.”
Oh, hell. She probably hadn’t. But since Hope didn’t want to disclose that she’d just heard another person’s thoughts, she just shrugged. “You can get it at the health food store a few blocks up.”
“Good to know. Thanks.” Gigi smiled at her. “Good luck with the hair. I’m sure Lance will work his magic.”
“From your lips to the goddess’s ears,” Hope said.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Lance said as he waved Hope over. “I don’t know what happened here, but by the time you leave, you’re not going to even recognize yourself.”
Too late, she thought. Ever since she’d started hearing people’s thoughts, she felt as if her mind had been snatched and replaced with a defective unit.
These witches and their beauty spells. I’m amazed her poor hair didn’t fall out.
“My hair could’ve fallen out?” Hope exclaimed and then slapped her hand over her lips.
Lance walked around the chair Hope was sitting in and stared her in the eye.
You can hear me.
She nodded, still covering her mouth.
“Well, that’s interesting,” he said, looking amused. “This is a new development, isn’t it?”
Another nod.
“So, what’s the juiciest thing you’ve heard that no one would want to say out loud?” he asked as he ran his hands through her hair.
Hope let out a bark of laughter. “I’m not going to tell you that. I already feel like a creeper just hearing things I shouldn’t.”
He raised one eyebrow at her. “You didn’t tell Grace and Joy?”
“I didn’t have to. One of them thought it,” she said, chuckling.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He lowered the chair and held his hand out to her. “Come on. We need to condition this mess before we get started.”
Once Hope was situated at the shampoo station, Lance waved an assistant off and got to work on shampooing Hope’s hair.
“Was it Grace or Joy? It was Joy, right?” Lance asked.
Hope chuckled and let out a contented sigh as his fingers massaged her scalp. “How did you know that?”
“Grace is an open book. Joy is more reserved. You know what they say about the quiet ones.”
“Yeah. You’re right. But I’m not telling you. That’s between her and Paul
.”
Lance snorted. “Paul. Now he’s a real piece of work, isn’t he?”
Hope’s eyes flew open. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Just that he doesn’t seem to appreciate what he has. Joy deserves better.”
Hope was on the verge of asking what he meant by that, but then she heard his next thought.
Damn, girl. You did a number on this hair. Gonna have to cut off a lot to salvage it.
“Cut it off?” Hope exclaimed. “How much?”
Lance glanced down at her. “You really do read minds. I’ll have to be sure to keep my thoughts PG.”
“I don’t care about your dirty thoughts,” she insisted. “I want to know what’s going to happen to my hair!”
“Relax, Anderson. I’ll give you a sexy new cut that will have Lucas begging to take you home tonight.”
She closed her eyes again and silently cursed him for bringing up the love of her life. It had been a whole hour since she’d thought about him. “He can beg, but it’s not going to happen.”
“Uh-huh.” Lance couldn’t have looked more skeptical.
“Believe what you want,” Hope said. “That’s over and has been for years.”
“Whatever you say.” Lance finished with the shampoo and conditioning and led her back to the salon chair. “Now, let me work my magic. Any requests?”
She stared at him in the mirror. “If I tell you to just work your magic, can you promise me when I leave here I’ll be as sexy as I was fifteen years ago?”
Lance chuckled. “Hope Anderson, you’re already sexier than you were fifteen years ago. You’ve got age and wisdom and character that have turned you into a badass businesswoman. But yes, I promise that if you just turn me loose, that when you leave here today, you’ll feel sexier than you did fifteen years ago.”
A chuckle bubbled up from the back of Hope’s throat. “You talk a good game, Lance. I’m not sure I believe you, but let’s do it. Make me gorgeous.”
Witching For Hope: Premonition Pointe, Book 2 Page 2
