Waiting For A Star To Fall (Autumn Brody Book 2)

by A. C. Dillon

  Bidding him farewell outside of the restaurant twenty minutes later, Autumn had the sense of something—or someone—watching her. A hint of motion reflected in the taxi's rear window. Blinking hard, she assured herself that nothing was there. A trick of light. You're prone to them from the PTSD. It's okay. It's nothing. Just one of the bad days, brought on by exhaustion. With a kiss and a brave smile, she watched Andrew drive off into the night.

  There was nothing to fear, aside from a rat scurrying through an alley or perhaps overpriced martinis gouging her Visa. Veronica needed the comfort of a good friend; Autumn was there for her. They would find somewhere with fattening desserts, head to V's place, get far too drunk, have a laugh and possibly a cry, then she'd stumble into a cab and face plant into the hotel bed. Veronica's problem was nothing more than miscommunication born of the best intentions.

  How wrong she was. About everything.

  * * *

  Stage one of her plan was executed swiftly: dessert of the junk variety. Veronica had steered them to a well-known ice cream place, where they promptly obliterated its pittance of nutritional value with a variety of toppings made of sugar and artificial everything. The weather warm, Veronica had then suggested they walk and eat.

  "If I burn as I devour, it's completely justified," Veronica joked weakly.

  As Andrew had expected, Veronica was far more forthcoming one-on-one with Autumn. There had been other arguments prior to the Sheffield debate—minor on their own, but definitely harbingers of trouble to come. Evan had nearly skipped out on the Sheffield app the previous September, saying that it was pointless to look at schools outside of New York. Gently reminding him that she was applying to Toronto Drama programs as well, Veronica had forced him to apply to his dream school. When a New York school had rejected him, he'd barely spoken a word for two days.

  "V, that sounds a little... obsessive. Has he always been like this?"

  Veronica licked a dollop of whipped cream off her spoon, frowning. "No, not at all. Something changed in our senior year. I thought maybe it had to do with his grandmother dying at first. Depression kinda runs two ways: needing people more or wanting them all to stay gone. I figured he just needed me close."

  "I tried to get him to see Emma, but he wouldn't. He was really shaken up after she died. I can't believe they didn't know she had cancer until she was terminal. She helped his parents raise him."

  Veronica sighed, gesturing to a bench in a nearby parkette. "We'll sit. And yeah, they were super tight. I don't know. Could depression be making him afraid to go to a school that's far from home?"

  Autumn dug into the melting blend of strawberry cheesecake and chocolate syrup in her bowl. "Maybe. But he was fine with New York."

  "I'd be in New York. He wouldn't be completely alone," she countered. "Shit, I just don't know. I love him. I will always love him. But how can I be there for him and support a choice that's self-sabotaging and flat-out unhealthy?"

  "You can't." Autumn grimaced, losing her appetite. "I love Evan like a brother, but I can't disagree with your choice."

  "It hurts so much," Veronica whispered, a lonely tear sliding down her left cheek. "I'll be doing something, just making dinner or walking, and suddenly, it's like I'm getting run over by the A train. I can't breathe. I worry about how he's dealing. I worry about his moods. I miss the sound of his voice. The way he says my name like there's no one else in the world..."

  Ice cream abandoned on either end of the bench, the two friends embraced tightly, the curvaceous blonde shuddering and sobbing into the shoulder of the slender redhead. Autumn willed her arms to impart some comfort, to ease the ache of a pain she'd experienced in her own way. For months, she'd cut herself off from Andrew, believing his life was threatened by their connection. It didn't matter if this was for Evan's own good: Veronica was devastated, and rightfully so. She was playing the villain to be his heroine.

  "A part of me keeps thinking this is a mistake, that I should just let him choose to defer it. But that's selfish, isn't it?" Veronica asked quietly, pulling away and swiping at her eyes.

  "Maybe it's selfish to not tell him the real reason why you broke it off. I remember Evan telling me once I was being a jerk to Andrew for making him think our fight was over one thing, when I was really just trying to keep him from getting murdered. He said I was treating him like a child."

  "Evan's smart like that."

  "And he also said it was fine to stand by that decision, but I should at least tell him my reasons," Autumn continued. "V, I'm not saying take him back or let him throw away an awesome opportunity. I'm saying that maybe you should tell him you love him so much, you won't be the reason he chucks his dreams in the garbage."

  Veronica groaned, bowing her head in shame. "Maybe... I wish I knew for sure what would happen, you know?"

  "Magic 8 ball?" Autumn suggested lightly.

  "Ooh! No, but you've got the right idea. I need a psychic!"

  Autumn made no secret of her disapproval. "No such thing. Sham artists, maybe."

  "Says the woman who solved the case of a serial killer with help from his dead victims?" Veronica snorted in disbelief. "I admit that most of them are completely full of shit, but the real deal exists. Gabriel sees this one woman that he swears by."

  Autumn rolled her eyes as Veronica began rummaging through her purse, yanking out assorted pieces of paper and business cards. This is all Andrew's fault. I'm no good at Girls' Night Out. I don't distract; I just amplify the irrationality. When her friend squealed at a small rectangle in her palm, Autumn knew there would be no easy night in at Veronica's place with a bottle of Grey Goose.

  "Got it! She's only two blocks away. C'mon!"

  "Veronica, seriously?"

  Tossing the remnants of her sundae into a nearby trash can, Veronica stared her down. "I went into creepy, gross tunnels with you. I helped cover for your aborted attempt at virginity banishment prior to Osheaga. I even bought condoms for you when you were too shy!"

  Autumn felt her skin flush. "Okay, okay! If you shut up right now about all of the dirt you have on me, you can drag me along as an observer to your psychic, alright?"

  Looping an arm through Autumn's, Veronica grinned. "Alright babe, we're off to see the wizard!"

  "Let's ease on down the damn road already. These shoes were not made for walking."

  Gabriel's psychic was located just steps from the New York University campus—logical, given his attendance there. It was Veronica’s initial enrollment at NYU (now deferred due to the show) that had led to her moving in with Gabriel. A few years older, Gabriel Medina was gay and very much out, advocating for LGBTQ rights between auditions for television and film. His psychic—billed on the sign out front as Madame Audrina—kept shop in the lower half of a two-storey home near the south end of campus. The neon sign in the front window shimmered, insisting that yes, the psychic was in and available at nine on a Monday evening.

  "I can't believe you're making me come along for this," Autumn grumbled. "You know I love you, right?"

  "I know!" Veronica chirped happily. "C'mon: a storm's a-brewing in that sky and I refuse to let my legit Louboutins gets wrecked after only a week of joy."

  With a renewed spring in her step—perhaps out of a desire to preserve her shoes—Veronica jammed the door buzzer with vigor. Reluctantly, Autumn joined her, huddling beneath the tiny overhang that longed to be part of a real porch. Several moments passed before a woman in her mid-forties, clad in black tank top and hip-hugging jeans, answered the door.

  "Madame Audrina?" Veronica asked hesitantly.

  "Yes, dear. Have you come for a reading?"

  "If you're available. My friend Gabriel sent me," she added casually.

  Madame Audrina's light brown eyes struck Autumn as inhuman. The shade was beautiful, but it was the way she cast her gaze over the two of them that made her shiver. Perhaps mistaking it as a chill, the psychic stood aside, ushering the two women into the office-slash-home.

  "It's
been a quiet night," she mused aloud, locking the door behind them. "Quiet nights herald deep exploration. I do my best readings on the quiet ones."

  "That's a good sign," Autumn deadpanned.

  Gesturing to an antique oak table, around which sat four chairs, Audrina smiled sheepishly. "As much as I enjoy sharing my gifts, I do need to pay the rent. Readings are $40 for a simple Tarot question spread. In-depth connections with the spirit world are $90. Which of you will be going first?"

  "Oh! Oh, I'm not here for that," Autumn quickly blurted out, smoothing the skirt of her dress in fidgety fashion. "I'm the moral support. She's here for the reading.”

  "You may not know you're here for a reading, but the spirits are already talking about you. But we'll start with your friend and see where that takes us."

  Veronica stared pointedly at Autumn, begging her with a glance to behave. It wasn't likely to happen. Despite her relaxed, modern June Cleaver appearance, this Madame Audrina was giving her the creeps.

  "Tarot, please," Veronica stated, reaching into her purse and withdrawing two crisp twenties.

  Settling at the far end of the table, Autumn studied the psychic's methods, figuring if nothing else, she could put them to use in a future short story. In a soft voice, she quickly determined that Veronica sought answers about her love life (not impressive; most people reached out to psychics for love life drama) and asked her to cut the Tarot deck. From there, she dealt out five cards in some sort of triangle formation. One by one, she flipped them over, explaining their meaning.

  "Until recently, things were on a really high note for you," Audrina began. "Your career, your love life, your family—everything was just as you'd always wanted it to be. True connections, great opportunities... All of this was yours. But now, things are in disarray. You're torn between reason and emotion," she added, flipping a second card. "Your heart says no, your mind says yes, or vice versa."

  Veronica nodded sadly. "Heart yes, mind no."

  Autumn gave her friend credit: unlike most people, she was resisting the urge to fill in the blanks for the psychic. Testing her. That's my clever friend.

  To the third card Audrina moved, flipping it with a nod.

  "I see now: the four of pentacles. It's a card of power and ambition. When it slips into this position, it suggests that a shift in power or something material has brought about the crisis. I see this a lot when women are promoted and their husbands are laid off, or when one student is accepted to a graduate program and their lover is denied. Your paths have suddenly diverted, and that connection has been severed. Perhaps he is not supportive of a change in your life?" Before Veronica could speak, Audrina shook her head. "No, it's not that. I see a man who loves unconditionally. But he is afraid that he can't hold his own ground against this change. That it heralds change for your relationship. So he fights. He's jealous. Resists separate lives, is envious of anyone close to you. He's torn. You are torn as well."

  Damn, Autumn mused. She's bang on. It's kind of scary... Unless Gabriel has told her things during his own readings. She'd reserve judgment for now. Veronica, on the other hand, was on the edge of her seat.

  "That's exactly what's going on," Veronica affirmed. "He's sacrificing himself to stay close to me, like he thinks if we're apart, I'll just stop caring."

  Audrina's hand reached across the table, squeezing Veronica's. "It is often up to us women to make the hard choices. To instigate difficult change and growth." Turning over the next card, she nodded sadly. "Yes, and the cards agree. The Hanged Man."

  "So it's over?" Veronica asked quietly, her voice hoarse.

  "No, not necessarily. Think of it as suspended. In limbo. For your relationship, you're being asked to make a great personal sacrifice. But it's worthwhile: in this ending, there are lessons to be learned. It may be what your man needs to snap out of the confusion and envy he's experiencing."

  Veronica bounced anxiously in her chair, biting her lower lip. "So maybe it can be fixed?"

  "Let's find out."

  Autumn leaned forward in spite of herself, curious to see what the final card would say. Up until this point, she couldn't argue with anything that Madame Audrina had said. Staying with Evan, letting him abandon his own life—it was a bad idea for both of her friends. But if losing Veronica made him reconsider his actions and choices, maybe encouraged him to talk to someone about his grief, then it would be a good thing.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an antique lamp flicker on a side table. Hmm. Someone should tighten that bulb.

  "The Hermit." Audrina smiled. "Can you be patient, child?"

  Veronica nodded furiously. "For him, I can. I was already willing to be. He was the impatient one."

  Twisting her greying hair loosely over her shoulder, Audrina continued. "The Hermit, much like its character, suggests a time of retreating into the self. An inner journey. It's a time of positive change and growth, if one is patient enough to endure the journey to its end. Your man is the hermit, not you: he is retreating, prompted by your decisions. When he emerges, he will understand your conflict with new insight. Stay true to your ultimatums, to your boundaries. In the end, you will forge a new path together, as long as you both want it badly enough."

  Veronica's smile seemed to light up the entire room as she pressed her hand to her heart. "I knew Gabriel was right. Thank you. My friend had said much the same, but friends will take your side and aren't neutral. No offense, babe," she added, glancing over at her companion.

  Autumn shrugged. "None taken."

  Madame Audrina carefully gathered her cards, shuffling the deck casually as she focused her attention on Autumn. "And now, you... What reading would you like?"

  The lamp in the far right corner flickered violently now, reminding Autumn of a candle caught in a draft. Finger-like strands of light crept towards her, only to quickly recede. The house sighed as it settled and the lamp suddenly gave out, casting dark shadows across a large swath of the room.

  Her anxiety kicked into high gear, screaming in her skull: Get out now.

  "None, thanks. Veronica was in need, and I think you helped her a lot."

  "Aw, c'mon!" Veronica pleaded, refusing to budge. "It'll be a bonding friendship thing."

  "Veronica, I said no. Madame Audrina, thank you so much for your time." Autumn pushed back from the table, cringing as the chair squealed along the hardwood.

  "I'll pay, if that's the problem," Veronica chimed in.

  Shut up! "It's not. I’m tired and –“

  "No charge," Audrina suddenly announced. "I must insist. There's a message for you. The spirits seldom speak this loudly. Please?"

  From the corner of her eye, a flicker of motion startled her. Autumn shuddered, staring at the ground as it began to spin. No, no, not here. Leave me alone. But she wasn’t alone. It had all been a lie. She felt her stomach lurch as she reluctantly looked up. The woman in lavender was behind Audrina, gesturing to Autumn’s right hand. The woman’s smile was twisted, almost as if to mock her.

  "Autumn? What's wrong?"

  Veronica placed a steadying hand upon her shoulder, but it was of little comfort. There was no denying the apparition before her. It was as clear as Nikki Lang, standing watch over the trial of her killer. It was as real as the screaming ghost of Mary Kennedy.

  "You've been contacted by the spirit world before," Audrina stated. "They tell me you helped them find justice in the afterlife. You righted a wrong."

  "She did," Veronica answered for her. "She caught a serial killer."

  "V, no!"

  "One of the girls died in her dorm room. She heard her. Saw her. I didn't know what to think at first, but she was right. Nikki got her justice." Veronica squeezed her shoulder, following Autumn's gaze. "You see someone right now, don't you?"

  Helplessly, Autumn nodded. "But you don't, do you?"

  Audrina gestured to the table. "Please, stay. Sit. You have to understand what's happened. You need to not be afraid of what's to come."

&nbs
p; Autumn felt her knees buckle and she sunk back into the chair. Again, the woman in lavender—perhaps twenty years older, with light brown hair flowing around her shoulders—pointed to Autumn's right hand.

  "She says you have her ring," Audrina explained softly.

  Autumn gasped in confusion, worrying the amethyst. "I... I just got this yesterday."

  "An heirloom. Maternal side. Louise says it suits you well. It will protect you."

  Startled, Autumn forced herself to look at the spirit. The woman nodded. She swallowed back bile, fought the urge to empty her stomach on the rather nice area rug beneath the table.

  "Holy shit, do you have a relative named Louise?" Veronica asked.

  Autumn mumbled confirmation, reaching for Veronica's hand. Her friend held tight, tethering her to reality, just as she had done once before. What is real? She'd spent months asking herself that question. The uncertainty had nearly broken her. She couldn't bear the weight of it again.

  "Your family is gifted with the sight, although not everyone chooses to open up to it. For whatever reason, when this Nikki contacted you, you were receptive to that contact. Through your interactions, you've become something of a conduit. A speaker for the dead."

  A speaker for... oh, God. No. No, I don't want this! I can't live through this again! I won't!

  "You don't have a choice, I'm afraid," Audrina continued, eerily answering her thoughts. "The good news is that your kindness has been noted by the spirit world at large. Benevolent forces guard you. But a spirit with a message, with a need unmet in life, will see you as someone to reach out to. Some of these spirits are weak. They can't manifest. But some—like Louise—take form."

  "Make it stop," Autumn murmured, pulling her gaze from her undead ancestor, or so she was to believe.

  "I can't. And if I could, I would urge you not to." Audrina's voice took on a gentle, mothering tone. "Autumn, it is a gift. You can simply tell them no when they ask. But I can't stop them from trying to reach out to the living. You've opened a door. You can lean on it, shove all of your mental furniture against it, but it will always be ajar."