by Tara Kelly
The shop was either chaotic or dead for the bulk of the morning. I preferred the quiet to the sheer insanity that walked through the door. “Garden-variety crazies” didn’t begin to describe some of these people.
Crazy #1: A guy dressed like the grim reaper, scythe and all, came in to ask directions to Denny’s. When Veta told him, he curtsied and said, “Good day, milady.”
Crazies #2 and 3: A couple groped each other on the couch while they waited for a reading. Customers complained. Veta asked them to take it outside. They apologized. All was well until they got into a yelling match. The gist was, she thought he had checked out Brittany at Pizza Hut. Cuss words and crying followed. Customers complained again. Tina eighty-sixed them but offered to see them again—separately.
Crazy #4: A woman approached the counter and stared at me for a good minute before speaking. She looked pretty harmless—jeans, T-shirt, graying shoulder-length hair. “Your eyes are so striking,” she said. “What sign are you?” When I told her, she backed away, informing me she “didn’t do business with Scorpios.”
Crazy #5: The UPS guy asked me what time I got off work. This might’ve been flattering if he wasn’t old enough to be my grandfather.
The shop emptied around 11:30. I hung out behind the counter while Veta and Tina traded stories about wacky regulars. As if they expected people who frequently came in for psychic love readings to be sane.
“Jasmine is giving us that skeptical look again,” Veta said, raising her eyebrows at me.
“It’s just…never mind.” I busied myself with wiping the array of fingerprints off the glass counter (with glass cleaner).
“Jasmine,” Tina said. “I’m going upstairs to make some tea. Why don’t you join me?”
“Um, alone?”
Tina cracked a smile. “Well, I think Zoe is in her room drawing, if that makes you feel better.”
I glanced at Veta, who crinkled her brow like I was the silliest person on the planet. “It’s not that—I’m—am I in trouble?”
“No, honey. We just haven’t had much time to talk since you started,” Tina said.
This couldn’t be good. “Sure. Okay.”
I followed her up narrow wooden stairs that creaked under my feet. She opened a white door with a deadbolt and waved me inside.
Their apartment was small but charming. Hardwood floors, sunny yellow walls, and the musky smell of incense were the first things I noticed. The entryway led to a tiny kitchen with older appliances, a blue refrigerator, and a white-tiled table surrounded by four chairs.
“Have a seat.” Tina grabbed a red teakettle and filled it with water. “I usually have chamomile after a busy morning. Helps calm the nerves. Would you like some?”
I sat on one of the chairs, folding my arms in my lap. “That’s okay. Thanks.”
She settled across from me. “Sure I can’t twist your arm? It’s great for relaxation.”
I gave her the most sincere smile I could manage. “Okay, I’ll try a little.”
Tina’s hazel eyes combed my face, more than likely trying to see inside my mind. I focused on the blue and white vase in the middle of the table. The kaleidoscopic patterns looked like a swarm of tiny butterflies itching to come to life.
“Beautiful vase,” I said.
A soft smile spread across her lips. “Mi abuelita—my grandmother—made it right after I was born.”
My right leg jiggled. “I love your apartment. It’s…cozy.”
“Thanks. The rent kills me, and three kids sharing one room was never a picnic. But it means a lot to us being so close to the water.”
I couldn’t imagine sharing my room with anyone, much less two people. Having my own space kept me sane. “Where did they all sleep?” I covered my mouth. “Sorry…”
Tina chuckled. “No, it’s a very reasonable question, actually. Once Zoe decided she wanted her own bed, she stole Sean’s. He slept on the couch.”
“Oh—that was nice of him.”
“I think he preferred it, and I can’t say I blamed him. My sister and I shared a room growing up. Our fights were brutal.” She looked at my clasped hands. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you not to be afraid to ask any questions about what we do. We learn to develop a thick skin in this business.”
I exhaled, trying to think of the best way to word my thoughts. “I know you believe in what you do—and I respect that. But I don’t understand how it’s possible to see inside someone else’s head, much less predict their future.”
“Fair enough. Let me ask you this—do you know why we dream?”
“Well, there are, like, a million theories on that…”
She nodded. “What’s your theory?”
“I once heard that dreams are conscious and subconscious thoughts from our day all jumbled up. And, I don’t know—that makes the most sense to me.”
“Have you considered that perhaps none of us knows the answer yet—at least not in its entirety?”
“Well, yeah. There’s never been a consensus.”
The kettle whistled through the kitchen, and Tina got up. “My belief is that dreams are messages from ourselves, from those around us—and even from the spirit world. And if you’re open to them, they’re gifts. They can give you new insight.” She got out two yellow mugs. “Mija?” she called toward the hallway. “You want some tea?”
“No.” Zoe’s voice sounded behind a closed door.
Tina dropped bags into the mugs and poured the hot water. “Watch—she’ll change her mind in about five minutes.”
I felt like I was back at Jason’s house. His mom knew everything he’d do before he did it. I always wondered what it would be like to have a parent understand me so well. Or even one who cared enough to try.
“Have you ever dreamed of a specific event right before it happened?” Tina plopped a mug in front of me and sat back down.
“Thanks,” I said, breathing in the earthy steam. “I had a dream about a pop quiz in English once—should’ve listened to that one. And…that’s about it.” But it wasn’t. Two days before my mom left, I dreamed of watching her pack. I kept tugging on her and screaming her name, but she couldn’t hear me. Her face was so docile, almost like a statue’s.
“How do you explain something like that?” Tina asked.
I leaned back and shrugged. “Coincidence, I guess.”
“It’s possible. But I used to have psychic dreams all the time—enough that I couldn’t chalk them up to coincidence. I had to learn how to control them. Now I choose what I want to see—most of the time.”
I took a small sip of the tea, hoping the mug would hide the doubt probably on my face. The perfumelike taste made me crinkle my nose.
She grabbed a bottle of honey from a cabinet and pushed it in front of me. “Try that.”
“So you believe that you can actually control your dreams?”
“It’s no easy feat, but it’s something anyone can learn to do. I’m not special.” She took a sip and closed her eyes, like it was a scrumptious brownie. “There is so much science can’t explain. We don’t even fully understand our own brains. But I’ve found truth in what I do. I’ve helped people improve their lives, and I’ve improved my own. That’s what matters to me.”
I squirted a healthy amount of honey into my mug. “It must be a good feeling—to be so sure.”
Zoe’s door swung open and she appeared in the kitchen with charcoal smudges on her cheeks. She gave her mom a timid smile. “Did you save any water?”
Tina rolled her eyes at me and smirked. “What’d I tell you? It’s on the stove.” After Zoe retreated downstairs with her tea and a book, Tina continued. “I know how crazy I sound to a scientific mind—Sean and Zoe remind me all the time. But I thought it would make you feel more comfortable to understand where Veta and I are coming from. And, if you’re up for it, I’d like to give you a reading. A small one—nothing heavy.”
I gulped down a glob of honey. What was I so afraid of? That Tina could close her eyes a
nd know my every thought? See my life like a movie? That would be impossible. But I had to admit, she made me a little curious. Maybe a lot curious. “Okay. When?” I asked.
“Well, Veta hasn’t hollered for us to get our butts down there yet. How about now?”
I sat up a little straighter. “What do I need to do?”
“Think of a question—anything. Just make sure it’s something you’re comfortable with me answering. Otherwise, I’ll be dealing with some major firewalls.”
“Do you need to hold my hands or anything?”
She cocked her head, her lips twitching the same way Sean’s did. “Do you want me to hold your hands?”
“Not really. No.”
She laughed. “Okay, then. All I need you to do is focus on relaxing. If you need to close your eyes and picture yourself on a beach, go for it. If a rock concert is more your speed, imagine that. Whatever makes you feel at home.”
I took a few minutes to think of a question. It had to be vague enough to make inferring anything from it difficult. “Did I make the right choice?”
Tina’s eyebrows rose. “Ooh, that’s one I get every day.” She closed her eyes, her chest rising. Then she exhaled slowly, like a blood pressure cuff deflating. “Now is a good time to go to your happy place.”
I shut my eyes and imagined myself in Jason’s garage. That was the closest place to home for me.
“I’m going to describe a variety of images I’m seeing, and then I’ll interpret them,” Tina said. “If you’ve got any questions or need clarification, let me know.”
“Okay.” I bit my tongue to avoid laughing, mostly because I felt silly.
“I see you running down a highway, but you keep looking back. Which tells me you made your decision in haste and you’re not entirely sure of yourself.”
“That’s true…” Basic psychology said I wasn’t certain of my decision. Why else would I ask?
“Bear with me, Jasmine. I’m just dipping my feet in the pool, so to speak.” Several seconds passed. With the constant hum of the refrigerator, the pause felt like ten years. “There’s a strong male energy around you. It’s almost stifling—a lot of guilt. Your father?”
I opened my eyes. “What exactly are you seeing?”
Her brow crinkled. “Not much. You’re shutting me out.”
My heart started pounding. “I am?”
“Well, I got a big wall in my face at the mention of your father. But we don’t have to talk about him, okay?”
I allowed myself to exhale. “I’d appreciate that.”
“We can stop this at any time. Just let me know.”
“I’m good. Go on.”
She was quiet for another few moments, her eyelashes fluttering. Sweat began to pepper my back.
“I’m not seeing your mom,” she began. “Is she—”
“Can we not talk about my parents—please?”
Tina’s eyes opened and her lips parted.
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just—I’d rather not…”
Her face softened. “Your parents have a lot to do with your question. That’s why they came up.”
“I don’t see how.”
“I’d say ninety-five percent of my answers aren’t what clients want or expect to hear. We’re quite brilliant at blinding ourselves to the real obstacles. But you’re obviously uncomfortable, so we’ll stop.”
I looked down at my mug. “Thanks for trying.”
“I appreciate you giving it a chance—I know it wasn’t easy for you. But Jasmine…”
I met her intense gaze.
“I know you’re pretty overwhelmed right now. Everything is new and crazy—and living with three boys probably isn’t helping.” She grinned. “But if you need to talk or just need a break from the testosterone, you’re welcome here anytime. Even if it’s two a.m.—I can’t promise you I’ll be coherent, but I know Veta will be.”
“You guys have been ridiculously nice to me.”
“Well, your guitar playing won over Veta. She can’t stop talking about it or you. And I trust her judgment.”
I let out a nervous laugh, not knowing how to respond. I’d never met people so open and trusting. It still seemed almost too good to be true.
Tina reached over and patted the back of my hand. “I’d offer you a hug, but something tells me it’s not your thing.”
“Not really.”
“Fair enough. You can go ahead downstairs if you want. I’ll get your mug.”
I stood, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Um, thanks for…you know.”
She smiled and nodded. “I do.”
Veta and Zoe were camped out on the white couch when I headed downstairs.
“Think Nick will come in today?” Veta asked Zoe.
“Don’t know, don’t care.” She hunched closer to her book.
Veta hit her in the knees with a pillow. “You’re blushing.”
“Go away,” Zoe said through her teeth.
I always wondered what it might be like to have a sibling. But in that moment, Veta made me glad I didn’t have an older sister. I used to turn red just at the mention of boys.
“Hey,” I said, folding myself in the rocking chair.
Veta’s smile widened. “How’d the talk go?”
“It was…interesting.”
“My mom’s intense, huh?”
I nodded. “I can see where you got it from.”
She batted her long eyelashes. “I take that as a compliment.”
“What’s going on, daughters of mine?” Tina asked, coming down the stairs.
The bell of the shop door jingled. Bryn and Sean wandered in with half smiles.
“Not much,” Veta said. “We were just discussing Zoe’s mega-crush on Bryn’s little brother.”
Bryn laughed. “What?”
Zoe threw her book down on the table and folded her arms across her chest. Her cheeks nearly matched Veta’s hair.
“Leave her alone,” Sean said, giving us a dirty look.
My mouth fell open. “I didn’t do anything.”
“I’m going out to lunch,” Tina said. She ruffled Sean’s hair on her way out. “Good to see you, mijo.”
A giggle escaped my throat when he ducked away like an embarrassed twelve-year-old. His eyes matched the green logo on his black T-shirt today, and he wore a faded pair of jeans that probably flattered his butt. Not that I cared.
“Did Jasmine tell you she’s working here?” Veta asked.
Bryn shook his head at me. “And you seemed so normal.”
“Maybe she really needs the money,” Sean said.
So much for Mr. Nice Guy. “I’m just the cashier.”
“We’re heading out to Bella Roma. Wanna come?” Bryn kept his eyes on Veta, like I didn’t even exist.
“Nah, I want Raul’s.” She elbowed me. “You should take Jasmine.”
Bryn glanced at Sean before giving me a quick smile. “Sure.”
The last thing I needed was a pity lunch date. Plus, I didn’t have the cash to eat at some fancy Italian restaurant. “That’s okay. I’m not hungry.”
Bryn shrugged and Sean excused himself, saying he needed to use the bathroom.
“By the way, don’t make any plans this week,” Bryn said. “We’ve got a gig at the Roach on Saturday.”
I tried to keep from gaping at him. Was he on crack? “But I haven’t learned most of the songs yet.”
“Which is why we need to practice every night.” His lips curved into a playful grin. “You got the chops, right? You’ll pull it off.”
“I don’t know if I can—”
“Don’t you think a show this soon is a little hasty?” Veta broke in, nudging my foot with hers.
Bryn held up three fingers. “We’ve got three weeks, okay? We need all the warm-up we can get.”
“The Roach is a dive,” Sean said, rejoining us. “We’re lucky if thirty people show up.” He met my gaze, an analytical glint in his eyes. “Shou
ldn’t be too hard.”
I looked down at my hands. “Okay.”
“You want to get some pizza, Zoe?” Sean asked.
She catapulted off the couch, flinging her tangled blond hair over her shoulders. “Yes, please. Get me out of here.”
“Later,” Veta called after them as they piled out the door. She leaned back on the couch, letting out a long exhale.
Having less than a month to prepare was bad enough, but a week? I had to perform in front of people, like, actual people—not the line of stuffed animals on my bed I used to serenade as a kid.
“I don’t know about this, Veta. What’s the rush?”
“Bryn is devoid of patience. And I think he wants to test you.”
“Does he always get his way?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Challenging the rank already, are we?”
“Just wondering if C-Side is a democracy or a dictatorship.”
“It’s supposed to be a democracy. But Bryn is the whole reason we’re even opening for Luna’s Temptation. He met up with them at a party, got them to see one of our shows. He keeps up our online presence and books our gigs—which aren’t easy to get around here. So if he scores us anything, even at the Roach, we go.”
“Nobody else helps?”
“We try, but me and Sean don’t have the kind of time Bryn does. And Felix isn’t really the go-getter type.”
“Makes sense.”
“Look, you practically nailed that song last night. You’re going to pick the rest up, no problem. And, seriously, the Roach is comparable to playing at someone’s birthday party.” Veta nudged me. “It’s not like it’s your first time playing live. You’ll do fine.”
I nodded and turned away, every part of my body tensing. Maybe I should tell her. They wouldn’t kick me out now, not with a show in less than a week. They’d hate me, though. And I couldn’t do that to Veta, not after she fought so hard for me. Besides, I nailed last night’s tryout. I could pull this off. Scratch that. I had to pull this off.
Chapter 9
