by Jana DeLeon
Because there was no other explanation for the changes. People didn’t get younger—at least, not naturally. Getting younger required a serious investment in a plastic surgeon. And you could still only push it so far before you started looking like the Joker. But no plastic surgeon made gray hair turn back to brown and grow two inches overnight. And her skin didn’t have that slightly stretched look of surgery or Botox. It simply looked the way it had fifteen years ago, before all of life’s BS had finally registered and she’d started dangling off the aging cliff.
She headed for the kitchen and set coffee to brew. Then she pondered. Was she really going there? Was she really going to believe that she was descended from a goddess and had some magical ability? Her appearance certainly suggested she should give it serious consideration. The day before, she’d thought Alexios was moderately interesting and ridiculously creative, but even the door opening and lightning strike hadn’t completely convinced her. Of course, she had been exhausted. Maybe she wasn’t able to fully process everything because her mind and body were operating at half throttle.
Or…!
She whipped around, looking at the front and back doors, but both dead bolts were in place. So unless Alexios could lock the door after leaving, he hadn’t sneaked in during the night to dye her hair and inject her with Botox. Also, even though she had been beyond tired, surely she would have woken up if he’d shoved a needle in her face.
This is it. You’re one-billionth goddess.
She’d made up her mind. She was going to believe Alexios, and if that meant playing Frodo, then so be it. What was the worst that could happen? She ran around looking for a ring that didn’t exist? At least she’d burn off a few pounds. But if all of this was true and she found the ring, then she’d cash in some serious money. Assuming Alexios came through on that end of things. It’s not as if he’d offered a down payment.
She frowned. Maybe she should ask for one. If the world only had a week left, then shouldn’t it be worth it to cough up some incentive money now?
Snooze strolled up and sat, staring up at her with that sad expression that only a hound dog could manage. He’d hidden under the bed, pouting, after she’d tripped over him the night before, so she hadn’t been able to get his take on her purple-clad friend. That was unfortunate because Snooze always seemed to know when someone was bad news. He showed his displeasure by peeing on their leg.
She reached down to scratch his head.
“What do you think? Should I ask Alexios for money?”
Snooze let out a single bark, which made her jump. Barking was rare unless he was upset about something. Even hunting, it was more of a bray. Not the piercing sound he’d just emitted. She stared at the hound and realized he was staring right back, a very intent look in his eyes. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he understood what she was saying and was trying to answer.
“What the heck—let’s play a game. I’ll ask a question. You bark once if it’s a yes and twice if it’s a no.”
Snooze tilted his head to one side.
“I’ll take that as you’re in. We’ll start with something easy. Is your name Snooze?”
One bark.
“Do you like Harold?”
Two barks.
Marina stared.
“Do you like sweet potato?”
One bark.
“Do you like apples?”
Two barks.
Un-friggin’-believable. He’d gotten every question correct.
Marina pinched her arm in case she was still asleep or had died. But it hurt just as it should have and she released the skin. Things were so incredibly weird. Her life was the very definition of chaos and now, she was convinced the dog was communicating. It was definitely time to call Alexios. He’d given her his cell number to get in touch.
She grabbed her cell phone off the counter and sent him a text. A couple seconds later, a gust of wind hit the back of her house and Alexios strolled inside. He must have listened to her on the whole purple pants thing because today, he wore plain blue jeans and a polo shirt. The shirt was bright fuchsia, but it was still progress.
Snooze walked over and sniffed his tennis shoe, then plopped down on the rug and promptly went to sleep. A good sign.
“Did you spend the night on my porch?” she asked.
“Of course not. My bosses aren’t that cruel.”
“Then how did you get here so fast?”
“When I’m not on earth, I reside in between worlds. Think of it as an invisible, moving condo.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Very. Nothing is more comfortable than your own bed. Centuries of travel can be hell on the back.” He took a step closer and scrutinized her. “I see all the gray is gone.”
She nodded. “And I don’t have pores. I mean, I have pores, but they’re so small now my skin looks fifteen years younger. Plus, I think I can talk to the dog. I mean, I’ve always been able to talk to the dog, but I think he understands what I’m saying. Is that possible?”
“I suppose it could be. Aphrodite is crazy about dogs. She always has one.”
“And she can communicate with her dogs?”
“Of course. She’s a goddess.”
“Interesting. Okay, so I was thinking and after a discussion with Snooze, I’ve made a decision. I’m going to try to find your ring, like I said last night, but it’s going to cost you. And not after I do all the work. I want a down payment. Something that proves to me that you are on the up-and-up. I can’t do good work if I’m worried about money. And since I’m pretty sure I’m going to be fired when I go into work today, that’s a viable concern.”
“Perfectly reasonable. I’m authorized to advance you ten thousand as long as you promise to legitimately launch a search for the ring.”
“I take it by your tone and the use of the word ‘legitimately’ that someone before me took the money and ran?”
“A particularly long and expensive vacation, in which she was eaten by sharks, thus starting our wait for a Seeker all over again.”
“Did your boss have anything to do with that shark thing?”
“He says no.”
“Hmmmm. Okay, well, since I have no intention of hopping on a plane to film a sequel to Jaws, I think I’m good.”
“Then consider it done.”
She looked around. “Is it in a bag under my bed?”
“Of course not. It’s in your bank account.”
Marina grabbed her phone and accessed her account. Sure enough, her balance had increased by ten thousand, but there was no sign of a recent transaction.
“That is a really cool trick,” she said.
“We think so.”
“Okay, so I have to go to work this morning. I expect that’s going to be a mess, but I have a client first thing and I won’t let her down unless I have no option. I will do everything possible to find the ring, but I can’t take a complete hiatus from my life. I’ve got a job—today anyway—a divorce to get processing, a house that needs serious attention, a crazy mother in lockdown, and a college-student daughter that could explode into drama any second. If I let all of that slide for even seven days, the world won’t be worth saving. Not for me, anyway.”
“I get it. You have responsibilities. The fact that you stand by your word is actually encouraging. I am sure you will commit your best to procuring the ring. So do you have a plan?”
She blinked. “Well, I’m going to put on clothes meant for public and go to work. Beyond that, I haven’t thought about it. But I will. Can we meet later so I can get more details?”
“You know where to find me,” he said and headed out the door.
She hurried over as the door closed and yanked it open, but Alexios had already vanished. She glanced around, wondering if his invisible condo was hovering over her yard and if he could see her. Just in case, she waved at nothing and headed back inside.
It was time to face the kraken.
At five minutes till ten,
Marina walked into the Cut & Curl with her shoulders back and a smile on her face. She looked and felt better than she had in years. And why the hell not? She had enough money in her bank account to cover her small expenses for months and with nothing tying her down anymore, she could consider options. She’d never thought about leaving Last Chance before, but if that was where her future lay, then it was going on her list. And the best part was, she didn’t have to make any decisions right away because if Alexios was telling the truth, then all of this was going to hell in a handbasket in a week unless she found a magical ring that no one for centuries before her had managed to find.
Patricia was going to be very disappointed when she realized Marina had no fucks left to give. The entire drive into town, every insult, slight, and sneer that had come from her boss had replayed in her mind like one big, never-ending sea of crap, starting from kindergarten and going right up to three days ago.
For the life of her, Marina couldn’t think of a single good reason why she’d taken it. In the early years, things would have been tight without her paycheck, but in the last ten years, there really hadn’t been any motivation for her to endure the continued abuse. Over the last two days, her somewhat blurry past had slowly come into focus. And Marina didn’t like what she saw.
Patricia was at her station, rolling the hair of Barbara Cormier, one of the stuffy old women who ran herd over all the local Baptist church events, making them pretty much miserable for everyone. Marina’s mother used to have a go at her every time she had an opportunity, just for sport. When she’d finally gotten her mother into the assisted living center, the old crow had the nerve to tell Marina that she was glad she’d finally seen fit to lock the “menace” away. It had taken all the energy Marina could muster to keep walking and not respond. It was one thing for Marina to call her mother a menace. It was completely another for Barbara Cormier to do it.
Both Patricia and Barbara frowned at her as she walked in. Marina’s ten o’clock appointment sat in Helen’s chair, her flaming red hair dripping onto the collar of her blouse. Helen froze as soon as she saw her. Ms. Kitty, the client, turned in the chair and gave Patricia a look that should have turned her to stone. Ms. Kitty was sixty years old and had owned and managed the local honky-tonk for thirty-five years. She did not suffer fools.
“I thought you said Marina wasn’t coming in today,” Ms. Kitty said.
“I said I needed a day,” Marina said, giving Patricia a hard stare, “and that’s what I took. Surely you can still count to one.”
A blush ran up Patricia’s neck and onto her face, and Marina could tell her words and tone were completely unexpected and had angered the salon owner. Patricia sputtered a bit, then collected herself.
“With everything that has happened, I assumed you’d need more time to get your life together,” Patricia said.
“You mean ‘everything’ like catching your slutty niece in bed with my husband? That kind of ‘everything’?”
Patricia’s eyes widened and the color fled from her face.
Barbara glared at her. “Normally, I would say your mother raised you better when I hear a comment like that but in this case, it would be a lie.”
“You’re right,” Marina said. “My mother raised me to believe that most people were assholes who were out to get me. Guess what? Turns out the crazy woman had it right.”
“‘Crazy’ is a relative term,” Ms. Kitty said.
Patricia cleared her throat, clearly trying to regain control. “I don’t think your kind of talk is appropriate, especially to me. That’s my family you’re talking about.”
Marina shrugged. “I don’t think it’s appropriate that half the men in town and at least one woman—me—has seen her privates. The fact that she’s your family is unfortunate, but not my problem.”
Ms. Kitty burst out laughing, giant tears streaming down her face. “Maybe there’s a flaw with the genetics. You know, some behaviors are inherited.”
Rage flashed across Patricia’s face.
“I won’t stand for this,” she said.
Marina smiled. “Then sit down, because I’m not about to shut up.”
My God, Marina thought, that felt great. Why had she waited so long to do it?
“People have danced around you for years because they don’t want your brother to launch a million frivolous lawsuits in their direction,” Marina said. “Well, I for one am done playing stupid where your family’s bad behavior is concerned. I plan on telling the entire world what I saw. This time, no one in Last Chance will be able to talk about it behind closed doors and play dumb in public. They’ll be forced to pick a side. Any bets on how that one lines up?”
Ms. Kitty rose from Helen’s chair and moved over to Marina’s. “Ha! I see that bit of fluff leaving with a different man every week in my bar. A different married man. I’m pretty sure I know where the women in this town are going to stand.”
Patricia dropped the brush she’d been holding on her stand, and Marina could tell she was a second away from losing it.
“A man’s marriage vows are not my niece’s responsibility,” she said.
“Never said they were,” Ms. Kitty said. “Still doesn’t change the fact that the girl’s a sleaze.”
Patricia’s face turned beet red and her jaw flexed. “If the women in this town bothered to take care of themselves, then maybe their husbands wouldn’t go seeking the company of someone who keeps themselves up.”
“Are you saying Marina’s let herself go?” Ms. Kitty asked. “Because I can see your gray hair shining from here and that mustache on your lip is going to rival the drummer in my band if you let it go another couple hours. The bags under your eyes look like you just went shopping with them and you could redirect water flow with the creases in your face. I don’t see any of that on Marina. According to your theory, I guess you best start checking up on your husband, right?”
Patricia whipped her head around and flung her arm out at Marina. “She does too have—”
Then she stopped short and stared. “That’s not possible. You had gray hair all over your crown, and dark circles and wrinkles around your eyes. I know what I saw.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Marina said. “And in the two days since you saw me last, I moved out of my home, dyed my hair, and had plastic surgery. I also recovered from that surgery and that’s why you can’t tell I had any.”
“You did something!” Patricia screamed, coming completely unhinged.
“Yep, she sure did,” Ms. Kitty said. “She looked better than you.”
“Get out!” Patricia yelled.
“With pleasure,” Ms. Kitty said. “I’ll send you a bill for my blouse. This is silk.”
Patricia looked horrified. “I wasn’t talking to you, Ms. Kitty. I was talking to her.”
Marina grinned. “I thought you’d never ask. Come on, Ms. Kitty. I’m happy to give you a blowout and curl at my house. And we’ll see what we can do about that blouse.”
“You’ll be sorry,” Patricia said as they were walking out. “There’s not another job in this town for stylists and without Harold’s money, you’ll be destitute in a week.”
“I’ll take destitute over prostitute any day,” Marina said, and gave them the finger on her way out.
Ms. Kitty followed her to the parking lot, chuckling all the way.
“What the hell got into you?” she asked as they stopped by her hot-pink dually.
“I don’t know. I guess I got to that point where I just can’t be bothered to care anymore, you know?”
“Oh, I know it well. Welcome to the club. And don’t worry about my hair. I’ll do it myself. I should have left as soon as that witch pointed to Helen’s chair. I know that sister of yours is probably setting up to wage a war on your behalf, but if you need anything, you come by the bar. I’ve dealt with my share of cheating men.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate you standing up for me in there.”
Ms. Kitty waved a hand in dism
issal. “That was just me telling the truth. Something I’m guilty of a lot.”
“I wish I was. It still feels a little uncomfortable.”
“Keep trying it on. It stretches to fit real quick-like.”
Ms. Kitty climbed into her truck and Marina waved as she drove away. She turned around to look back at the salon and saw the three remaining women looking at her through the blinds. She waved and grinned and the blinds snapped shut. Laughing, she climbed in her own car. Alexios had no idea the gift he’d given her. Her only regret was that it took forty-eight years to happen.
She pulled out of the parking lot and directed her car toward her cabin, dialing Halcyon’s number while she drove. If she was going to find the ring, she needed help. And the one person who’d always had her back was Halcyon. It would take some convincing to get her sister on board with the whole magical, mystical, descended-from-a-goddess thing, but even if her sister never believed it, she’d still help if Marina asked.
Thank God, because Marina needed all the help she could get.
Chapter Eleven
Thirty minutes later, Marina was perched on a stool in her kitchen, attempting to explain her newfound power to her more-than-skeptical sister. When she finished, Halcyon stared at her for a while, then finally frowned.
“This is the emergency you had me rushing over here for?” Halcyon asked. Clearly her sister had expected something else.
“What did you think I called you for?”
“To celebrate your newfound attitude or commiserate your nervous breakdown…I wasn’t sure which direction you were going to take things. That’s why I brought champagne and Xanax.”
“You know about what happened in the salon already? How is that possible?”
“My current booty call—sorry, ‘gentleman caller’—is the drummer for Ms. Kitty’s band. She was still laughing when she walked into the bar earlier and couldn’t wait to tell them about you going off on Patricia. I’m pretty sure you can get free beer for life if you want it.”
“Not right this moment, but I’ll keep that in mind.”