Semi-Psychic Life: Glimmer Lake Book Two

by Hunter, Elizabeth

  “I get it.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe some of my friends think you’re the cool mom.”

  Val blinked. “Your friends think I’m the cool mom?”

  “Some!” Jackson held up his hand. “Seriously, don’t embarrass me. Just chill. A couple. Like maybe one.”

  “Yes!” Val raised her hands and pumped the air, tossing her head back and forth like she was headbanging. “I. Am. The. Cool. Moooooom!”

  Jackson put his hand over his eyes. “I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

  * * *

  It was after midnight and she still couldn’t sleep. Val pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and took deep breaths.

  In. Out.

  Clearing her mind.

  Relaxing her body.

  Clearing her mind.

  Relaxing…

  Relaxing, dammit.

  She sat up and walked to the dresser in the corner, opening the drawer to take out the antianxiety medication her doctor had prescribed six months ago.

  “Take it at night. It’ll help you sleep.”

  The pills had helped her sleep, and they also did what she’d been hoping for. They dulled her clarity when she got visions. Her perception wasn’t as fast or as clear.

  She hated feeling dependent on them.

  But Val never wanted superpowers. She hadn’t asked for any of this. She never wanted to know that much about anyone. It was bad enough living in a tiny town where everyone was in each other’s business all the time. Owning the town’s only coffee shop meant she perceived too much as it was through her five normal senses.

  So occasionally Val convinced herself that she could manage without her pills and stopped taking them.

  The anxiety always came back. The sleeplessness returned.

  Val could battle through it… but it had been three nights of poor sleep because her brain wouldn’t turn off. It had been days of hair-trigger visions she didn’t want.

  She gave in and took the small white tablet, washed it down with a glass of water, and returned to bed. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she saw her phone buzz. Josh was texting her.

  You awake?

  Val rolled over and closed her eyes. Josh was a pest and she did not want to talk to him. She didn’t have the time, patience, or energy for her ex. She ignored the text and the buzzing sound that told her he was calling. If it was important, he’d leave a voice mail and she could check it later.

  Nothing her ex-husband had to say was urgent enough to answer the phone at one in the morning.

  Chapter 3

  Val was bleary-eyed and aching when her alarm went off. She reached for the bottle of water on her bedside table, downed the contents, and set it back down. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and tried to wake up.

  She could already feel the effects of her medication like a fog in her mind. She reached for her test object on the bedside table, a pair of her mother’s reading glasses she’d swiped from the house. As soon as she touched them, she got a vision of her mother reading a book in bed.

  Shit.

  She needed to keep taking her medication. After a week or so, it would take a little longer for the visions to come, and that was all Val wanted. If she could control the immediate and sudden results of touching objects, she’d be able to live her life a lot more easily. She could avoid visions like the one with Americano Asshole and his mistress.

  She rubbed her eyes and stood, stretching one way and then the other. She stepped onto the small rug in her room and did a few lunges, warming up her hips and knees. She bent over, dangling her head down as far as she could to loosen her back.

  Why didn’t Glimmer Lake have a boxing gym? She’d love to have a good reason to hit things. It would benefit her health on so many levels, all while giving her a perfectly decent excuse to wear gloves.

  I can think of better ways to loosen up your back.

  She pressed her eyes closed. She didn’t need to be thinking about Sully.

  Her phone buzzed on the dresser. Shit. She’d forgotten about the call and text from Josh. But would Josh be up this early? That couldn’t be right.

  She absently noted a voice mail notification from her ex, but when she saw the number of her produce guy, she called him back immediately. “Hey, Don. What’s going on?”

  “I’m running late today. Probably won’t get there until after breakfast.”

  “Shit.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Seriously, Don?”

  “Can’t help it. Roads are icy as hell and it’s gonna be slow.”

  “I get it. I do. It’s just that I heard the phrase ‘dangerously low on onions’ yesterday, and you know how Ramon feels about onions.”

  “I got ’em, they’re just rolling up the hill a little late.”

  Val sighed and wondered how many onions she had in her fridge. “I’ll let Ramon know. Thanks for the call.”

  She splashed water on her face, put on a heavy slather of lotion to combat the dry winter air, and tugged on fresh clothes. She was going to have a ton of laundry come Monday.

  Her phone buzzed again. It was a text from her other barista, JoJo.

  I can’t come in today.

  Fuuuuuuuck. Val groaned. She tapped out a quick text message. Are you okay?

  Fight with Mom.

  JoJo’s home life was anything but simple. Their dad wasn’t in the picture, and their mom always seemed one fight away from kicking JoJo out of the house. She constantly used the wrong pronouns with JoJo and blamed them for everything going wrong in her life. Ramon and Honey were surrogate parents and trying to figure out a different living situation, but until they did, Val knew it was better for JoJo to do whatever they needed in order to not make waves.

  Are you safe? That was the most important thing.

  JoJo called and whispered over the phone, “Yeah, I’m okay, but she was getting on me about not doing enough to help around the house, so I think I better stay here and work. If I cut some firewood and clean the kitchen and do her laundry, I think she’ll leave me alone. If I leave for work, I’ll probably find my stuff on the front porch when I get home.”

  “This is bullshit,” Val said quietly. “I know you pay rent.”

  JoJo sighed. “She doesn’t see it that way.”

  “We’ll find you a room somewhere soon. I promise.”

  There was a long silence on the phone. “I’m all she has, Val.”

  It was an impossible situation. JoJo was trying to be a good kid to a horrible parent. “At some point, honey, you’re going to have to take care of yourself first.”

  “I know. Can Eve fill in today?”

  “She has class.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  Val could hear the guilt in their voice. “Don’t worry about it. Lie low and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Call one of us if you need help. That is an order. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Thanks, Val.”

  She hung up and ran a fast brush over her hair before she knotted it behind her and tied on a bandanna.

  No delivery.

  No barista.

  Val was going to have to serve double duty on the register and the coffee counter. Greeeeat. And she might need to send Ramon to the market for sad onions, which was going to piss him off.

  The sun wasn’t even over the mountains, so Val was surprised to hear the quiet tap on her door. She grabbed her phone, pulled on her gloves and went to answer it. Jackson was leaning against the doorjamb, still in his flannel sleep pants and a T-shirt.

  “Morning.” Val ruffled his bedhead. “What’s up?”

  “I forgot to tell you that Andy has a permission slip he needs signed.” Jackson yawned and covered his mouth. “I put it on the table. Can you make sure you sign it?”

  “Cool. What’s it for?”

  He squinted. “Observatory, I think?”

  “Fun.” Val sort of wished she could be the mom who went on the field trips—at least the cool ones—but that wasn’t in the cards. “I’m
surprised he forgot about it.”

  “He barely moved his nose out of that book last night. I don’t think he was thinking about anything other than that.”

  “Right.” Val glanced at her phone and noticed she’d missed another call from Don. “Go back to sleep, honey. You boys want to come by Misfit for breakfast this morning?”

  Jackson yawned again. “Dunno. I’ll ask Andy when he wakes up.”

  “Good man,” Val whispered. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Her phone buzzed again. “Are you kidding me?” It was Rachel, Josh’s girlfriend. Unbelievable.

  “You know,” Jackson said, “you don’t have to do everything on your own.”

  “I know I don’t.” She walked out of her room, trying to scoot Jackson back toward his bed. “I have you.”

  “I’m talking about work stuff. You have employees.”

  Val sighed. “I know, but those employees have their own lives and I’m the boss. Unfortunately.”

  “Just think about delegating more.” He turned and waved at her. “That’s all I’m saying. It’s not you against the world. And don’t forget the permission slip.”

  Which she absolutely would have done. Probably. She detoured from her direct line to the front door and signed the school permission slip after a fast scan, all while trying not to think about the multiple texts someone was sending her, judging by the constant buzzing from the phone in her back pocket.

  So help her, if Josh and Rachel were trying to increase his custody again…

  All he had was every other weekend and he barely followed through on those visits, but if he got every weekend written into their custody agreement, then the money he had to pay for child support would decrease ever so slightly.

  Jerk.

  It left Val in the unenviable position of documenting every call and every visit the boys had with their father, just so she had evidence in court that she had full custody. It was maddening and draining and exactly what Josh probably wanted. He knew that eventually she’d forget something and she’d kick herself.

  You know, you don’t have to do everything on your own.

  Ha! It was a nice thought, but Jackson had no idea. No idea at all.

  * * *

  The boys did come into the restaurant, but only long enough to grab egg sandwiches before they sped off to school. Ramon was at the grill, Val was at the register and the coffee station, and Max was doing his best to keep the plates going in and out.

  Unfortunately, because Val was pulling double duty, her customers at the counter were a little neglected. “Sorry, Dad.”

  Vincent Costa waved a hand. “I’m fine. I got my coffee, and Philip here is keeping me company.”

  Val glanced up and saw Robin’s dad sitting next to hers at the counter. “Hey, Mr. Lewis, how are you this morning?”

  She didn’t catch his answer because the phone started ringing.

  Don’t cry. There’s no crying in baseball. Or restaurants.

  She picked it up. “Misfit Mountain Coffee Shop. We do not take orders or reservations over the phone.” Val found it best to start every phone call with disclaimers.

  “It’s Monica. I was wondering if you’d had time—”

  Val started to laugh hysterically. “I haven’t had time to pee since seven a.m. JoJo called in, so I’m short a barista and a server.”

  “That sounds uncomfortable for everyone. Want me to come help?”

  “Are you a barista?”

  “No, but I can work a register and serve breakfast, smart-ass.”

  Good enough.

  Val snapped, “You’re hired. Be here an hour ago. I love you forever.” She hung up when another customer walked up to the register. “Hey, what can I get you?”

  Monica walked in fifteen minutes later.

  “You’re my best friend,” Val shouted across the restaurant. “Robin lost her title.”

  “I thought we were both your best friends.”

  “Yeah, but she made me brownies last week, so she’d pulled ahead slightly.”

  “Brownies?” Monica stashed her purse under the counter. “You’re a cheap date. Apron?”

  Val ducked down and grabbed one, tossed it to Monica, and pointed to the counter. “These two plates are for Jeanie and her friend.” She pointed to the two women at the end of the short counter. “You’re on the register and taking care of the counter. You know how to use this kind of register?”

  “Same one Robin has.” Monica tied on the apron and walked behind the digital register, shoving Val to the side. “Go. Make coffee and write snarky comments on cups. I got this. Hi, Ramon!”

  “Hey, Monica. You hungry?”

  “Not yet, but I expect onion rings for lunch.”

  “I’ll be happy to make some when I get some damn onions.”

  “I can’t help that Don still isn’t here,” Val snapped. “I told you to go to the market!”

  “Have you seen the sad produce at Granger’s?”

  “Sad onions or no onions! I’m not a miracle worker.” Val turned and saw Sully standing at the counter. “Hi.”

  He frowned. “Sad onions?”

  She nodded to the kitchen. “Ask my prima donna cook back there. You need coffee?”

  “And a pastrami sandwich.”

  Monica said, “Hey Sully! How are you? Did you come in just to talk to Val? Because I would not find that at all surprising.”

  Val froze, but bless him, Sully took it in stride. “I came in for coffee and pastrami.” He glanced at Val. “I don’t think either of those have onions.”

  Monica smiled. “If you want to hang around and visit with Val, I’m sure we could get some.” She punched in the order, and Sully held out a card to pay.

  “Shut up, Monica,” Val said, sliding a coffee cup toward Sully. “Here you go.”

  He grabbed the empty cup and looked at it for a second. Then he looked back at Val. Then at Monica. “Right.”

  He turned abruptly and walked to the coffee station, leaving Val glaring at Monica.

  You’re the worst, she mouthed silently.

  “I thought I was your best friend.”

  “You need to cut it out,” she whispered. “Nothing is going to happen there.”

  Something already did happen, not that Monica or Robin needed to know the details.

  Ramon made the sandwich, Sully grabbed it and walked out without another glance in Val’s direction, and the morning sped by with hardly a second to catch her breath before eleven o’clock.

  They took advantage of a lull and stepped out to the screened porch off the back of the restaurant to catch some fresh air. Val sat at the picnic table and flipped on the small space heater they kept for employee breaks.

  The forest around them was blanketed in snow, and several feet of it were piled along the borders of the parking lot. They’d had a pretty average year for snow, but the temperatures had stayed frigid at night, which meant not much had melted since the last storm.

  “Seriously?” Monica kicked her feet up. “You’re not going to do anything about the detective with the pretty eyes?”

  “Sully’s a sheriff, not a detective. And no.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Thanks. I love you too.” Val desperately wanted a cigarette in moments like this, but she’d quit when she was pregnant with Jackson.

  Still miss them though.

  “Why are you so determined to stay single?” Monica asked. “I know you don’t like being alone.”

  “I know you don’t either, but it’s just not the right time. You know that better than anyone.”

  “My husband died less than three years ago, and you’ve been divorced for almost ten years. Not exactly the same thing.”

  “How long did people wait until they tried to set you up?”

  “Three months.”

  “No!”

  Monica made a face. “I did not react well.”

  “Understandable.” Val leaned her chin on her hand. “Do you remember
what it was like when I was married to Josh?”

  “Not that I’m sticking up for him, but you only remember the bad stuff. You and Josh had good times too. You liked being married.”

  “Yeah, before the boys came. After that, he was like another kid. He was so much damn work and I didn’t have the energy.”

  “But the boys are older now. You have your own business. You have a house—”

  “And I still have a shit-ton to do!”

  “And you always will. You can’t let it prevent you from having a personal life.”

  “Honestly? All I remember about relationships is that they’re work. A lot of work.”

  “Yeah, they are work.” Monica leaned back against the wall and looked out the window. Val could see how much widowhood had taken out of her. She’d lost weight. She didn’t look happy. The new project with Russell House was helping, but she still seemed lost without her other half.

  Men. You literally can’t live with them or without them. What the hell?

  “Relationships are work,” Monica continued, “but the right ones are help too. Someone who has your back. Someone to share the emotional load with. If you can find a real partner—”

  “That would be the sticking point,” Val said. “I’m not sure any men capable of real partnership are still single. Every one has been married off. Not that I blame their wives or anything, but the pickings are slim, my friend. Very, very slim.”

  “And Sully?”

  She hadn’t given him a chance. Not to be good or bad. “Monica, I just don’t have the time.” She looked at her watch. “And neither do we. Back to work.”

  “Fine, but before we go…” She looked around at the empty yard. “I had a dream last night.”

  “Dream dream or—”

  “Vision dream.” Monica’s voice went soft. “Blood on the snow. A lot of it. I’ve had the same dream a couple of times now, and I don’t know what it means.”

  Val and Robin had both learned they couldn’t discount Monica’s visions, but not everything was as ominous as it seemed. “Did you see anyone in the dream?”