by M. Ullrich
At thirty-three, Imogene knew she should have felt lucky to have such a wise man in her life for so long, but the selfish side of her expected Winston Harris to live forever, to guide her until her dying day. She remembered the day after her nineteenth birthday when she shared her deepest secret with him. She stared down into the cup of tea Sophia had brought her. The steam rising from the surface of the deep amber liquid hypnotized Imogene, and she heard her grandfather’s voice as if he were standing beside her.
“Grandpa?” Imogene stood at the white kitchen counter, cutting an apple into slices.
“Yes, Immy?” He worked a small ball of dough with a rolling pin. Seconds of silence passed, the dough becoming thinner and thinner, the young woman becoming more and more nervous.
“I think I’m gay.” The knife in her hand stilled as the words left her mouth, and when a response didn’t come, she risked a glance. Winston was still working the dough, lifting it carefully onto a pie dish and making sure he hadn’t missed a tear or space. He wiped his hands on his apron, smiled triumphantly at the perfect crust and then at his granddaughter.
“Do you think or do you know?”
“I know.” Imogene stood tall, but her heart hammered violently as she waited for his response. He caught her off guard by pulling her into a tight embrace. When he finally released her, tears shimmered in both their eyes, and they wore equally large smiles.
“There’s one thing you need to realize.” Winston turned his attention to making the perfect scalloped edges on his crust.
“What’s that?” She didn’t bother to hide her grin as she went back to the task at hand.
“Whether it’s a boyfriend or a girlfriend, your father and I will still kill them if they break your heart.” He punctuated his words by picking up the rolling pin and tapping it against his broad palm several times before going to work on the top crust. They both laughed and continued their work. Later that night, they ate the best apple pie they’d ever had while feeling closer than before.
“I heard your mom talking about your inheritance,” Sophia said, bringing Imogene back to the present. “Seems…” Imogene watched as Sophia tucked a strand of her sandy blond hair behind her ear and searched for the right word. “Hefty.” The change of subject was obvious.
“Yeah.” Imogene wasn’t one to speak of money. She hadn’t uttered a word about the settlement she received after her father’s death, and she was just as tight-lipped now.
“Any plans for it? Travel, cars, a small hut in Belize?” Sophia encouraged.
“I’m just putting it into the shop.” Imogene had opened Cowboy Fran’s a month after the settlement money was in the bank. She wanted to do something in her father’s memory, but she also knew it’d put her associate’s degree in business to good use, a degree she only got to make her mother happy. After stepping foot into the vacant storefront on Washington Street, she had fallen in love and signed the lease papers immediately. Shortly after, the small boutique had become a staple on the busy Hoboken street, catering to women in the area by providing them with clothing, jewelry, and household items that stepped outside the business casual box most were forced to live within during weekday hours. Once the apartment upstairs had become available, Imogene jumped to move in. Now Cowboy Fran’s wasn’t just her job, it was her home as well. She loved it, but she would gladly give it all back if she could have her father and grandfather in her life for just one more day.
“You should look into some investments,” Sophia said nonchalantly. “Chris’s friend knows a great advisor if you’d like me to get the number.”
“Listen, Sophia…” Imogene stopped her friend from going any further. She was too exhausted to think beyond her sadness. “I appreciate everything you and Chris have done for me, I really do, but I’m not worried about the money right now.” A silence fell over the room, uncomfortable enough that Sophia’s husband, Chris, stepped in the room, then spun on his heels and left again. Imogene got up to take her full cup of tea into the kitchen and deposit in the sink before returning to the living room in search of her coat.
“I should get home. You know how cranky Vixen gets when I’m away for too long.” Imogene smiled every time she talked about her beloved orange tabby cat.
“There’s a time she’s not cranky?” Sophia flinched slightly as she spoke.
Imogene thought back to the last time one of Sophia’s belly scratches had gone wrong and felt pity for her traumatized friend. “You just bring out the best in her.” Imogene chuckled, even managing to make that sound sad. “I’ll see you later.” She slipped her long tweed jacket on and started for the door.
“Oh!” Sophia’s deep blue eyes lit up. “I’m working a party this weekend for Chris’s best friend’s wife. You should come and be my assistant. It’s been a while since we worked a room together.”
With a hand on the doorknob, Imogene grinned at her friend. Sophia always knew exactly what she needed to get through a hard time. Free food and great entertainment always helped. “When and what time?”
“Saturday night, meet me here at seven.”
“You got yourself a faithful assistant, Miss Glass.” Imogene bowed slightly, her auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders.
“Thank you. No great psychic could perform without one.” The two women shared a hug and a wicked smile before bidding each other a good night.
Chapter Three
Catherine took a moment before knocking on the door. She rolled the cool glass bottle of expensive wine between her palms and braced herself for an evening surrounded by complete strangers. It wasn’t that she had never met these people, she just never got to know them. Never had the desire to, either. Catherine was there to wish her best friend a happy birthday and help out in any way she could, not to make friends. She made sure she arrived early enough to avoid walking into a crowd but late enough not to be mistaken for anyone of real interest—a strategy she’d perfected over the years. After a deep breath, she opened the door and was greeted immediately by a flustered Dennis.
“Cat!” He rushed over and took the bottle, putting it on the nearest table. “Thank God you’re here. I’m trying to make sure that all the food is properly displayed and the drinks are easy access, but I’m not sure anything is up to Alice’s standards.” She felt his panic seeping from every pore.
“Where is the birthday girl?” Catherine scanned the open space.
“I told her to take her time getting ready.”
“Good. I’ll do a casual walk-through and fix whatever needs fixing. You just worry about what your wife needs.” She smiled and patted his muscular shoulder. Relief immediately flooded his young, bearded face. Dennis was five years older than Alice but looked younger than Catherine’s own twenty-nine. His boyish good looks and dark features had drawn Alice in immediately, but his charm and goofy humor were what sealed the deal. Catherine couldn’t have picked someone more perfect for her dear friend.
“You’re a lifesaver.” He was gone before finishing his words.
“And you owe me,” Catherine mumbled to herself as she removed her coat and hung it in a nearby closet, one she knew wouldn’t be used for any strange coats. She hated leaving a party smelling like someone else’s perfume or cologne. She smoothed out any wrinkle that could have formed on her perfectly tailored shirt and slacks during the short drive over. She spent many hours a week at the gym and, as a result, she was proud to properly display her tall, trim, athletic body. Catherine looked long, strong, and in charge dressed all in black. It gave her the necessary confidence to make it through tough meetings as well as small parties.
She walked through her friend’s large, open home not too far from her own condominium. Instead of a busy city feel, it was tucked away into a neighborhood for growing families. Every time Catherine visited, she’d think of how it’d be the perfect place for her to settle down when the time came to start a family. She wandered about slowly, making sure all the preparations would please Alice, and they would.
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More and more guests filled the living area and large kitchen within the next half hour. Catherine hadn’t had the chance to manage even a small “happy birthday” to Alice before someone dragged her away to greet her guests. She hadn’t even caught a glimpse of her. Catherine remained tucked away with a glass of the wine she brought and found herself somehow having a one-on-one debate about the Super Bowl with a man she believed was named Eric. Catherine hated sports. Thankfully, she was part of a family that enjoyed entertaining and worked in a field that required her to address large groups of people at a time. Catherine managed to handle herself just fine. She only caught herself wishing the kids were there to take her away from the stifling adult once. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry, Eric,” she held up her glass, “too much wine on an empty stomach.”
“It’s Jeff. My name is Jeff.” She flinched at her mistake.
“Excuse me, Jeff.” She slithered away, feeling guilty, bored, and tired. Deciding she was ready to leave, Catherine scanned the large crowd in hopes of finding Alice. No such luck. Instead of weaving in and out of bodies to find her, she decided to fill a plate at the impressive buffet. She had a lot of work waiting for her at home, but at least this way she’d get to it with a full stomach while avoiding another sodium-packed prepared meal.
As Catherine grabbed a plate, a redheaded woman who seemed more eager to get to the shrimp cocktail than any other partygoer bumped her. Catherine stumbled back a step and almost dropped the dish. Just as Catherine was about to bite off a remark, the redhead turned around to offer an apology.
“I am so sorry! I probably look like some sort of fool, stumbling over myself just to get to some food!” A megawatt smile spread across her beautiful face, rendering Catherine speechless. “I didn’t get a chance to eat all day, and I have been waiting patiently for an opening to get at least a little something to nibble on.” Catherine tried to follow what she was saying, but the other woman gripped Catherine’s shoulder to steady herself as she slipped back into her runway heel. “When my opportunity came, so did you. That’s when I forgot how to put one foot in front of the other without losing a shoe and, well, crash.” Giggles fell from her full pink lips.
Catherine couldn’t stop staring at her, even though she hadn’t heard a word the woman had said. Her thick, long, auburn hair framed her face well. She looked so young and yet so mature. She possessed a timeless, old-Hollywood beauty Catherine thought magnificent. The sprinkle of freckles across her pink cheeks added to the charm she saw in the woman’s large, crystal blue eyes. She took her hand off her shoulder, and Catherine realized she should say something.
“Me either.” The woman looked confused, and Catherine thought to elaborate. “I haven’t eaten much either.” When the redhead smiled brightly, Catherine’s stomach did a little, unfamiliar flip. She swallowed hard as the other woman looked her up and down. The movement was subtle, but she felt as though it was a physical caress. Catherine reached over and grabbed a large platter overflowing with peeled shrimp. “It’d be a shame if we both starved. Shall we?” Together they walked toward the empty couch.
The two women sat, laughing and joking as they ate. Catherine learned quite a bit about the bubbly redhead beside her. She knew she liked shrimp immensely and could spot a finely tailored shirt a mile away. Though her red hair fell in waves, she was jealous of naturally curly hair, she had a love for heels but couldn’t quite master anything higher than two inches, and she absolutely adored parties and white wine, but not as much as her Aunt Rita. She was everything Catherine wasn’t and enjoyed all the things Catherine shied away from. Thankfully, she was so talkative, Catherine didn’t have to share anything too personal.
Without prompting, the crowd shifted to the perimeter of the room, clearing space in the center for a woman with blond, chin-length hair. She was slim and tall, authoritative in posture and air. She waited patiently for the quiet murmurs around the room to die down.
“What’s this all about?” Catherine whispered, leaning in closely. She wouldn’t let herself acknowledge the dizzying feeling that accompanied the scent of the other woman’s perfume. It was a delicate, addicting scent.
“That’s Sophia Glass. She’s a psychic,” the other woman offered. She never took her eyes off the blonde as she started speaking, opening up to the crowd.
“Hello, everybody. My name is Sophia, and I’ll be your entertainment for this evening.” A few men hooted at the idea and Sophia laughed. “Not that kind of entertainment, although it would probably increase my pay rate.” The rest of the room joined in on the laughter. “I’m a psychic, and I’m here to talk to the believers and possibly even intrigue the skeptics.”
“A psychic? Are you kidding me?” Catherine could barely contain her disbelief and giggles. What was Alice thinking?
“Sophia has a large following and a very well-respected practice in town.”
“A practice? She’s not a doctor,” Catherine said. “She may be a quack, though.”
“She’s not a quack.”
“You believe in this stuff?” Catherine pointed toward Sophia. “That woman is here to make money. She’ll tell these people anything they want to hear.” She shook her head and laughed again as she looked around at the interest on everyone’s faces.
“You should be more open-minded,” the redhead whispered.
“I am open-minded, but I’m not stupid.” Catherine looked into the blue eyes suddenly boring into her. Gone was the laughter, gone was the light, gone was the magic and the connection that had no name. Before she could ask why, the psychic started talking again.
“I’d like to call up my dearest friend to assist me. Imogene, come up here.”
Catherine realized she had put her foot in her mouth, and she didn’t like the taste of it when the woman next to her rose and joined in the spotlight at the center of the room. She sank into the plush sofa and waited patiently for an opportunity to escape with her tail between her legs.
❖
It was almost an hour before Catherine managed to catch a glimpse of Alice and feel any hope of getting out of there before she had any further uncomfortable interaction with Imogene. On her way over to say good-bye, Sophia stopped her. Great, Catherine thought, now I have to deal with this?
“Hello.” Sophia extended her thin hand toward Catherine, who hesitated before taking it. “I’m Sophia—”
“I know.”
“You seemed to have made quite the impression on my assistant.” A playful smile appeared on Sophia’s face. Catherine took in her sharp features and midnight blue eyes. White teeth peeked from between her thin red lips. They weren’t perfectly straight, but Catherine thought the imperfection added a pleasant character to an attractive face. The woman was beautiful, but she wasn’t nearly as captivating as Imogene. Where one was warm and inviting, this one was fierce.
“I guess you could call it that.” Catherine wasn’t looking to make conversation. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
Sophia crossed her arms over her chest. “I do enjoy the challenge of a good old-fashioned skeptic.”
“I’m not looking to challenge you.”
“Oh, I know.”
Catherine thought the statement was delivered the same way as any of her other party tricks. After her failed attempt at socializing earlier, the last thing she wanted was the runaround from this woman. “Listen, Sophia, I’m sure your assistant gave me rave reviews and my sitting alone with my head in my hands just reinforced them, but—”
“You’re much too proud to believe in this whole shtick, aren’t you? Much too successful in a real business to be bothered with something so abstract. I don’t fit into your black-and-white world, do I?” Catherine just stared as Sophia continued. “Maybe it wasn’t your skepticism that drew me to you. Maybe it was the sadness that surrounds you.” She brought the words to life by tracing a circular shape in the air. Catherine didn’t have the chance to argue before sh
e was accepting a business card from the psychic. “I can tell you if you’ll have it all by May,” Sophia whispered to her. And with that, she was gone.
“Hey, Cat. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk to you all night. Dennis really outdid himself this time, didn’t he?” Alice looked at her friend. “Are you all right? You look pale.” She held Catherine’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Cat?”
“Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just heading out.” She looked everywhere in an attempt to find the woman who had just shaken her to her core. When she noticed that Alice wasn’t letting go, she settled her gaze on her friend. “Your hair!”
Alice ran her left hand through her freshly cut black locks, but the other remained on Catherine’s sturdy shoulder. “I needed a change.” Her normally long, straight hair was now cut pixie short and styled off her face haphazardly with a funk unique to Catherine’s eccentric friend.
“It looks fabulous. You look fabulous.” Catherine wrapped her arms around Alice and held her tightly, whispering a birthday wish into her ear before reluctantly letting go. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Give the kids a kiss for me.” With a gentle parting smile, Catherine headed for the door.
Sophia’s voice followed her home and into bed, where choppy dreams invaded her subconscious. Catherine awoke in a cold sweat several times that night, thinking of past failures, mocking laughter, and faces hidden by a dense fog. It wasn’t until the early morning sun wrapped itself around Catherine’s curled form that she found some form of peace. Sophia’s voice repeated ten very specific numbers in sequence until Catherine was lulled into a light sleep.
