Make Me a Match

by Diana Holquist

  “You said it yourself: you’re just one person. There’s a whole system to fight,” he reminded her.

  “So let’s fight it.”

  “Cel. Let it drop.” The more Cecelia talked about this, the more he saw Sally everywhere. She was healthy and smiling. He could smell her, taste her. He could practically see her, sitting next to Maya and admiring her picture. Damn, if he were a crying kind of man, he’d be losing it now. He hated hospitals. Doctors. Sickness.

  Cecelia followed his gaze to Maya. “You have to do it for Maya. She needs you to take care of yourself.”

  “No.”

  Cecelia looked so mad, he had the feeling that she was going to stick him herself with a needle when he wasn’t looking. She got up from the table, pushing her chair back roughly. “I’ve got to go. I’m starting my new job tomorrow. I need some rest.”

  “Right. Maya and I will stay here tonight, so we’ll be out of your hair.” Her hair. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, not to fight with her. But he wasn’t getting mixed up with hospitals and blood tests.

  “Whatever.” She turned and left, stopping at the bar to admire Maya’s picture and say good-bye.

  Finn almost called her name, but he didn’t. All this talk about sickness filled his mind with another name—his wife’s name. He had two full years of hospitals before Sally died, and there was no way he was subjecting Maya to that again. The pinball machine flashed the high scores. “MAYA” held the top five spots. “FFC” held the next five.

  Okay, so maybe he was being a bit childish.

  Cecelia had left her quarters on the table. He scooped them up and began another game.

  Chapter 37

  The next morning, Cecelia started her new job at the clinic. When she came in at eight, the waiting room was already packed with people sicker than she’d seen since medical school. She had been working for six hours straight, and was listening to a previously undiagnosed textbook tachycardia in a six-year-old little girl, when she heard Amy arguing with the receptionist, Monique. Monique wasn’t nearly as polite as Ellen was back at Elliot and Stan’s practice. Monique had an unruly waiting room with way too many patients and not enough doctors to see them all. She had to keep order, or else.

  “You can see Dr. Burns when you have an appointment,” she heard Monique bellow.

  Cecelia sighed. “We’re going to do some tests, Ally,” Cecelia told the little girl and her mother, who both nodded. It made Cecelia nuts that these people didn’t ask questions, didn’t ask for second opinions. None of her patients today had. But she didn’t have time to teach her patients to be patients. She was too busy trying to save their lives. “Do you know what an EKG is? It doesn’t hurt one bit.”

  The mother was trying not to cry.

  Amy’s angry voice continued to filter down the hall and into the tiny room.

  “This is Veronica.” Cecelia pointed at the nurse who had appeared at the door. “She’s going to walk you through it all.” Cecelia helped the little girl down from the examining table and she and her mother went off with Veronica.

  Cecelia took a deep breath and went to help the receptionist. “It’s okay, Monique. She’s my sister.”

  Amy looked wilder than Cecelia had ever seen her. “C’mon back.” Cecelia buzzed Amy into the maze of offices. Everything at this place was busy and messy and difficult. Cecelia was loving every minute of it.

  She led Amy to her office, which she shared with three other doctors. Their desks were crammed against the wall, papers leaning precariously in all directions. She sat down opposite a buried desk and motioned Amy to take a chair.

  She didn’t. Instead, she paced back and forth, picked up random papers, then put them back down. “Jasmine’s alive!” she blurted. “She’s alive and she’s the reason I lost my powers. I have to do something before she comes back to get me.”

  Cecelia tented her fingers and nodded her head. “Can we start at the beginning—” Cecelia couldn’t help it, she was enjoying Amy’s distress enormously.

  “A psychic told me Jasmine’s coming to get me. That she’s my worst enemy. She knew her name, Cel! I don’t know what to do.”

  “Jasmine isn’t your enemy. She’s your sister.” Cecelia savored the irony of that statement, especially after her last month with Amy. “And of course she’s alive. She just ran off like I did and you did. That was her way. All of our ways. The gypsy blood.”

  “I’m scared, Cel. I need your help.”

  Cecelia tried to take pity. But she’d just been talking to a six-year-old with a bum heart. She couldn’t muster much sympathy for Amy. “Okay. Here’s how I’m going to help you. I’m going to tell you that you’re nuts. Jasmine is not after you. Why would she be? Even if she’s in Baltimore, it doesn’t make any sense that she’s out to get you.”

  “Cel. I. Um. I—” Amy stopped. She had gone completely white.

  “What?”

  “I sort of stole from Jasmine. Ten years ago. Right before she took off. I never told you. Our last job together, I sort of lied about how much we took in. And I think she knew. I think that was why she left.”

  Cecelia threw up her palms. “Oh, Amy.” This was beyond what she expected, even from Amy. “Jasmine was the sweetest little kid. She was sixteen. She was your sister.” Cecelia glanced at her watch. “Look, I have to work. Just relax. No one’s going to get you. Especially Jasmine. People don’t just disappear for ten years and then show up out of the blue.” She paused. “Except, of course, for you.”

  Amy didn’t go back to her job for a week. She hardly left the brownstone, and when she did, she felt eyes on her from every direction. After eight days, she started to relax. After all, Cecelia was probably right, Jasmine couldn’t just show up back in Baltimore after all that time.

  Of course, Amy had shown up out of the blue—

  She looked at the psychic’s card, which the old woman had passed to her in the restaurant. It just had a name, “Madame Mesion,” and a phone number. The woman was probably a fraud. But then, to come up with that name. Her skin chilled.

  She dialed the number. “Hello, Madame Mesion?”

  “Ms. Burns, hello,” the old woman said. Her voice sounded even weaker through the phone.

  The lady must have Caller ID. I hope. “What can you tell me about Jasmine? I need to know everything.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. All I get is a name. And I only get the names of the living. That’s all I know.”

  “I can pay you.”

  “Dear, I sincerely doubt that. But this isn’t about money. I would never extort a fellow psychic, or anyone for that matter. That’s how I keep my powers strong. Anyway, I have nothing else for you. I’m sorry.”

  Amy hung up the phone. She couldn’t keep living like this. But there was nothing she could do. If Jasmine were really out there, she’d just have to wait for her to show herself.

  Finn took a break from framing the sixteenth window of the day. The work was good, the money was good, and there was no end in sight. He could stay in Baltimore if he wanted. Stay forever.

  Thoughts of Cecelia overcame him and his insides stirred. Then he thought of her with a gleaming needle, and everything turned to concrete. He climbed through the empty window hole and sat on the unfinished porch. Guys were working around him, but thankfully everyone was absorbed. After hanging out with two women like Trudy and Maya most of the day, he was grateful for silence.

  I don’t feel sick, he thought for the hundredth time that week. In fact, he felt great. Really good sex will do that for a guy.

  A simple blood test. Just do it. But every time he thought about the hospital, it brought back floods of emotion he didn’t want to face.

  Sally. His wife. I’m sitting by her bedside, holding her hand, watching. It was all the watching that killed him a little each day as Sally slowly died. Just walking into that stinking hospital, seeing those doctors. Cecelia was right about his death in the sense that a part of him had already died.
<
br />   He shook the feelings away.

  He was being ridiculous. He could hear Cecelia’s voice, whispering in his ear after they made love: It wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could.

  But did he? Sure, in a way he had. But it wasn’t what he didn’t do, it was what he wasn’t: rich, educated, connected. Those were the things Sally had needed from him. But those were the things he never had. Never would have.

  He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to a time-worn picture. Maya in Sally’s arms.

  I can’t bring her back.

  It’s just a blood test, he imagined Sally saying. You big wuss. Look what I went through and you’re scared of a needle?

  Right. She was right.

  Okay, he’d do it. He’d go to the hospital and get the test. He’d do it for Maya. And Cecelia. But most of all, he’d do it for Sally. As he stared into her eyes in the picture, he knew that she would’ve kicked his butt if he didn’t.

  “Every time I see a woman in her mid-twenties, I jump out of my skin,” Amy told Trudy.

  Trudy wiped down the bar without looking up. She grunted.

  “I don’t know what she’d look like now, but I did some sketches.” She flipped open a notebook.

  Trudy glanced at it from a distance and nodded.

  “I can’t go on like this. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t work. I dropped three orders last night. It was a mess. Customers walked out. I’m going to get fired.”

  Trudy checked the stock behind the bar. “I need more soda. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared down the cellar stairs.

  Amy looked around the spooky, empty bar. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the dingy, pale light filtered in through the single grimy window in the front.

  Suddenly the door swung open.

  A woman stood in the doorway, a silhouette, framed in light.

  Amy felt her stomach quiver.

  The woman seemed to look right at her, although Amy couldn’t see the woman’s face, which was hidden in darkness.

  “Amy Burns?” the woman asked.

  Amy almost fell off her bar stool. She looked to either side of her. Where the hell was Trudy? She could bolt down the stairs before the woman got any closer. But what if the woman chased her? Then she’d be in the cellar. And she wasn’t sure if Trudy would defend her or just laugh at her. “Yes,” she said, trying to make her voice strong. It sounded wobbly to her ears.

  The woman began to move toward her.

  “Who are you?” Amy stood up.

  “You know who I am. I’ve been looking for you. You don’t stay still long.”

  The woman stood before her now. She had long black hair and brown eyes—just like Jasmine. “Who are you?” Amy asked again.

  “Did you miss me?” the woman asked. “I missed you.”

  Amy began to back away.

  The woman laughed. “Sis, what’s wrong? Don’t you remember me?” Jasmine held out a hand, as if she wanted to shake.

  Amy, trembling, put out her hand too. She took the woman’s hand in hers, surprised that it was warm, alive, real. She let go quickly. “What do you want?”

  Jasmine sat down on a stool. She spun around like a little kid. “What’ve you been up to?”

  “Nothing. Working.”

  “Really. That’s not what I heard. I heard that you lost all your powers. Now what a shame that is. Why do you think that happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, well I do. Because—this is really weird—I got them!”

  Amy blanched.

  “Surprised, are you? I don’t know why? The thing is, you kept screwing up. Over and over and over again. Then, with Cecelia, that was really the last straw. Conning your sister and that nice little girl. Your powers are gone completely now, aren’t they? I think they must be because I hear the voices so clearly!”

  “Take them!” Amy said. “You deserve them. I think about you every single day.”

  “What did you think happened to me? Did you think I was dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there you’re right.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Amy, you can’t be alive and hear the voices. Surely you know that. Don’t you remember what happened when you were five? Don’t you remember the bus accident?”

  Amy grabbed Jasmine’s arm. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve been dead, honey. This whole time.”

  Chapter 38

  Just then, Trudy came up the back stairs. Cecelia was behind her. And then Finn. And Maya. They were grinning from ear to ear, which on Trudy was not a pretty sight.

  Amy stared at them.

  Cecelia walked right up to Jasmine. “Nice job, Margaret. Thanks.” She handed the woman two hundred-dollar bills. “I really liked the bit about Amy being dead. Very creative.”

  “Oh, I just thought that up on the spot. Did you see her face?”

  “Oh, yes. In fact, I’ve got the whole thing on video. I’m really looking forward to watching it over and over. Thanks again.” Cecelia was giddy with the triumph of her scam.

  “Oh, no problem. It was fun,” Jasmine/Margaret said. Then she looked at Amy, who was as pale as a sheet, looking at everyone like they were all ghosts. “Sorry, lady. I just needed the cash. You’re a good sport.” She shoved the money into her jeans and skipped out the door.

  Cecelia was still grinning.

  “You—” Amy began.

  “Yep. Me,” Cecelia said.

  “And me. I helped,” Trudy added. She put her arm around Amy’s shoulders.

  “And me,” Maya added.

  “I had nothing to do with it,” Finn said.

  Amy fell onto the stool and held her stomach as if she might throw up. “I can’t believe—”

  “Believe it!” Cecelia chirped happily. “Trudy, I think Amy needs a drink.”

  “Coming right up.” Trudy went behind the bar.

  “A shot of vodka. A double,” Amy said. “Holy mother of God, I think I almost passed out you lousy—”

  “Now, now. Don’t be too angry, dear,” Cecelia said. “It’s not as if you didn’t deserve every single luscious moment of that.”

  “I can’t believe that I bought it,” Amy said. Trudy plunked the drink in front of her and she threw it back. “That was dirty.”

  “That was necessary,” Cecelia said happily. “If you’re ever going to get your powers back, then you had to experience what it’s like to be conned. Plus, I owed you.”

  “We owed you,” Finn mumbled.

  “And it was fun,” Maya put in.

  “You’re a horrible waitress,” Cecelia said, starting to feel a little sorry for Amy, who was still pale. “You have to find a way to get your powers back yourself.”

  Amy shook her head. “Where’d you find that old lady in the restaurant? She was good.”

  “On Renny Street. She had me conned a while back too. You should see her eye trick, it’s really amazing. Anyway, don’t get any ideas. If you’re going to get your powers back, you’ve got to go straight.”

  “I can’t do it without you.”

  “I think you can. Anyway, I’ll be around. You won’t be alone.”

  “Why are you being nice to me?” Amy asked suspiciously.

  “Because you needed my help,” Cecelia said. She put her hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Just like I needed yours.”

  Cecelia opened the new lab report on Finn nervously. She quickly scanned the results. Normal. Normal. Normal. Nice lipids. Her heart stilled and she couldn’t breathe. Finn was going to live. He wasn’t going to die. There was nothing wrong with his blood. The first test had either been wrong, or he had a temporary infection that his body fought off. She wanted to run through the streets, toss her hat in the air, shout for joy.

  “Well?” Finn looked over her shoulder at the report, his chest brushing against her.

  Forget running and hat tossing, she wanted him. “You’re fine. There’s n
othing here.” She closed the report, threw it onto the counter, and took Finn into her arms. “Don’t suppose it would be such a good thing to get caught on the new job naked with you on an exam table?” She was so giddy, she couldn’t stop smiling. She bit him gently on the shoulder.

  “Oh, haven’t you come full circle?” Finn teased, gathering her tightly. He returned the bite to her neck. “I remember meeting a doctor who was too frightened to have a picnic on an exam table, much less what I’m thinking about right now.” Finn traced a line between her breasts with his finger.

  “So, um, what are you thinking about right now?” She already felt breathless, already felt his rough hands running over her skin.

  “I’m thinking that before you and I do one more thing, I need you to admit to me that sometimes Amy is wrong.”

  Cecelia felt her happiness drain out of her. She let Finn go. “Amy is never wrong.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll trust the blood test.”

  Cecelia tried to ignore the shudder that raced up her spine. Why did he have to bring up Amy again?

  “Cel, say that you believe I’m going to live a long and happy life. With you.”

  Cecelia let her head fall against his chest. The mood was gone. She didn’t feel like making love to him anymore. Instead, she had an itching desire to roll him in bubble wrap and never let him out of her sight. He’d be flattened by a Mack truck on the way home, hit by a meteor, struck by lightning. Just because the blood test was fine didn’t mean he was fine.

  She looked into his eyes. He believed in her. She had to believe in him, not Amy. It wasn’t about Amy. Focus on the healthy man before her. She sucked in her breath. “You’re going to live a long and happy life. With me.”

  He drew her close. “Good. That’s much better. Now c’mon, we don’t have time to mess around. I knew I was healthy as a horse, so I’ve already planned a little celebration. Amy and Maya are making us dinner.”

  Cecelia’s stomach clenched. “Amy’s cooking?”

  Finn shrugged. “So?”

  “Oh, God, c’mon. We have to hurry. Now I know how you’re going to die.”