The woman shrugged. “Everyone in town knows your family practices witchcraft.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, unable to come up with an immediate response. In earlier days, I could have denied it. I viewed myself as a psychic, not a witch, but I had recently discovered my mother had been part of a large coven. Though Mom insisted their magick was only to help people, it was a hard point to argue with those who saw spellcasting as evil.
Mrs. Darcy threw up her hands and stomped her way into the antique store. Kela and I followed behind, watching her sift through papers, open drawers, and poke around in her quest to find the missing comb.
“Where is it?” she demanded. “I’ll turn this house upside down if I have to.”
I instinctively grabbed her hand as she reached for my top desk drawer. It was a foolish move, and I was immediately gripped by a strong memory.
“Here you go, Gram Beatrice. I hope you like them.”
Yolanda handed over the box of combs to an older woman lying in a hospital bed. She was hooked to a battery of machines, with cords and tubes running everywhere. Gram’s shaky hands worked at the clasp on the box. With an effort it clicked open, revealing the treasure within.
“Be-a-u-ti-ful,” she woman said, choking out each syllable. She gasped as her fingers traced the combs, stopping to comment on each one. At last, her milky blue eyes took in an ornate comb, inset with jade. At this, she quickly withdrew her hand from the box, as if it were on fire.
“I-I don’t want this one,” the woman said. “Get it away!”
“But that’s the best one, Gram,” Yolanda said. “It’s just like the one in your picture. See?”
“No! It doesn’t belong to me!” The woman reached into the case, and with one deft movement, sent the comb sailing across the room. It crashed into the opposite wall and Yolanda’s face went white. “It belongs with the dead!”
“Gram! It’s okay. Shh…Shh… I know it’s not yours. It’s a gift. Just a gift.”
The woman began shrieking, pulling the blanket up over her head to hide. “Get it away from me!”
Yolanda backed away as Beatrice’s nurse came in. She checked the old woman’s stats and managed to sedate her, while Yolanda looked on helplessly. Once she could breathe again, she looked for the comb – but it was nowhere to be seen.
I released my grip on Mrs. Darcy’s hand. The comb was definitely there when she gave it to her grandmother. In fact, “Gram” had thrown it across the room. Yet, I couldn’t reveal this information. If she already thought me a witch, that would only solidify her opinion. It was best to pay her off and send her on her way.
“Mrs. Darcy, my apologies,” I said, a faux smile on my face. “Let me get my pocketbook and recompense you for the missing comb.”
“Really?” she asked, stepping back.
“Really. The whole set was three hundred, if I remember. Will you keep the combs you still have, and accept one hundred for the missing one?” I removed five crisp twenties from my billfold and held them just out of her reach.
After a moment of deliberation, she nodded and snatched the money from my hand. We both knew the jade comb was the whole reason the set was valuable, but she seemed satisfied with the offer.
“Let’s keep this between ourselves,” I said with a wink. “Bad for business, you know. And just to show you how sorry I am, Kela will get you a coupon for a free bowl of soup.”
“Alright. Just between us,” she promised.
Once she had her case and coupon, the woman left, and Kela and I both exhaled in relief.
“The nerve,” I said. “She lied to us.”
Kela balled her fists into the groove of her hips. “She’s lucky I meditated today or I might have done something we’d all regret.”
“That woman’s always been a pest,” said a voice behind me. I spun around to see the ghost of my dead mother. She had a cup of coffee in her hand and an inquisitive look on her face.
“Mom’s here,” I said to Kela, pointing in Mom’s general direction.
“Hi, Auntie Vivi!” Kela said, waving. “I hope things are going well in the afterlife! Ooh look, the crystal around my neck turned bright pink!” She lifted the crystal pendant to show us its new rosy glow.
“Tell Kela that was me.” Mom said. “I’ve been practicing.”
Since I was the only one who could hear my mother, I had the honor of translating. “Kela, your Aunt Vivi says you shouldn’t set your cousin up on dates without prior consent.” I made my way back to the counter, poured a glass of water, grabbed a cookie I was certain Alex had bought rather than baked, and took my usual seat. “There’s your daily dose of wisdom from the afterlife.”
“I did not say that!” Mom protested, following me. Despite her seeming weight, she was as buoyant as Glenda in her bubble.
“Sorry, not sorry!” Kela said, padding over to sit beside me. Then she looked at me with woeful eyes. “I take it things didn’t go so well. Were the guys all turned off by your gloves?”
“It was just one guy, Kela. He was twenty-two and still in college. His hobbies included pulling tractors. How well did you expect this to go?”
“Honestly?” She drew her knees up to her chest and pushed off on the counter, spinning several rotations before slowing to a stop. Her flashing eyes met mine. “I thought you’d enjoy the attentions of a young adoring stud. You needed a pick-me-up. We’re all tired of seeing you spend so much time alone here. It’s depressing.”
Mom took the seat on the other side of me and nodded her agreement.
“I don’t understand the problem,” Kela continued. “You said it was okay. Your Libra wishy-washiness is getting to me.”
“This morning it was an idea, not a reality. Can we drop Switch, please? I’m not cut out for modern dating.”
“You’ll be automatically dumped from the site in three days when your trial’s over. Just shut off the notifications until then.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as she pulled her knees even closer to her chest. She reminded me of Wendy, waiting for Peter Pan to come flying up to the window. “I have another idea. I’m hosting a speed dating event at The Little Tea Pot.”
“You’re hosting a speed dating event at our competitor’s business?” My cousin’s hobbies and interests changed more often than her mood. “Why on earth would I participate in such a thing?”
“Pretty please?” Kela laced her fingers beneath her chin and deepened all three of her dimples. How someone with such an angelic face could hatch such devious plots was beyond me.
“My stars! Fine! I’m not sure what I’m getting myself into, but if it will absolve me from signing up on any more online dating sites, I’m in. But this is it for you playing matchmaker. Agreed?”
“Brilliant!” she said, clapping her hands and kicking out her feet.
“Now, maybe you should get back to work?” I suggested.
Kela bounced up and danced her way through the tables, collecting empty dishes along the way. Her energy practically hummed and it was hard not to get caught up in her enthusiasm – but I would try. I’d already seen what her zest could do to an unsuspecting soul.
“Looks like it’s just me and my daughter,” Mom said, tapping her fingers along the counter, oddly producing no sound at all.
I immediately regretted dismissing Kela. Now I was all alone with my mother. If her stories were repetitive while she lived, they were now an endless loop of monotony that made purgatory look like a vacation destination. Although she could leave the house for short durations, she rarely wandered far from The Aunt-Tea-Query, thus never broadening her topics of conversation.
Which made me think. “I haven’t seen you around today,” I said. “What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been challenging myself to get further away from home without being pulled back,” she said. “I made it all the way to Bog Hollow before I fell apart.”
“Does it…hurt when you fall apart?” I asked, more curious than concerned. Although I hadn’t wri
tten much in several years, I was still a journalist at heart.
“Nah! It’s just like going to sleep. One minute you’re in reality, the next you’re not, then you wake back up. But in my case, I can’t pinch myself to see which is which.” She demonstrated her inability to pinch by squeezing the area around her wrist several times, only to have her fingers press all the way through. “Nada,” she said, both proud and wistful at the same time.
“You shouldn’t have paid Yolanda Darcy off,” Mom added, surprising me by actually contributing to a relevant conversation. “In my day, I would have sent her packing, no refunds.”
A cigarette magically appeared in my mother’s hand, where the coffee cup had been. She drew in a long inhale, all the way into her belly, held it, then released it slowly. She lifted the cigarette, admired it, and it disappeared again. “Smoking in the afterlife is better than sex, just don’t get caught.”
There was a lot to wonder about in that sentence, but I let it go. Giving my mother an opening was like inviting a demon to dinner.
“It seemed cheaper to get rid of the woman than to challenge her,” I said, trying to stick to the topic. “And far less trouble. I’ve had a long day. I’m just ready for it to end.”
Mom studied me. “You do look tired. Maybe you should wear more color, like me! Color really perks a person up.”
I had become so accustomed to Mom decorating herself like a Christmas tree in the afterlife – because “clothes are free here” – that I had hardly noticed her ensemble. Today she was squeezed into a red velour track suit, with matching red hair pushed away from her face. Her crystal earrings glinted in the sunlight whenever she swiveled her head.
My phone vibrated and I saw the Switch logo flashing erratically on my screen. I went into settings, but couldn’t figure out how to turn off notifications. “Kela!” I called to her, waving the phone.
“On it!” she said, wiping her hands on a towel.
“I can’t get through two more days of this,” I said, following Kela to my office computer. “If you can’t turn this thing off, I’m not going to your silly speed dating event.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” she said, blowing a kiss over her shoulder.
“I’m so glad you’re dating again,” Mom said, tagging along. “You’re not getting any younger. I had two kids by the time I was your age. Grandkids would be nice, even if they can’t see me.”
Mom phased out with a sigh, reappearing by my office window, where she could watch the pedestrians.
Kela pulled up the Switch site and went to notifications. I watched carefully as she shut them off. When the screen asked if I wanted to renew membership for the low monthly price of just $59.95, she reluctantly clicked Cancel Subscription.
Are you sure? The site asked. Let’s take one more look to see who you’re missing out on. It pulled up a kaleidoscope of thumbnails featuring Reed Hollow’s finest, most barely out of college. Kela was about to close the screen, but I grabbed the mouse from her hand.
“Kela, do you know him?” I tapped the screen.
“Sure, I know Josh,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “He’s a good kisser, but he drinks a lot. Fun for a few dates, but not a relationship. Is that who they set you up with?”
I curled my nose, slightly unnerved that I’d been Switched with one of Kela’s former flames. It felt… wrong. “Who’s his grandfather?” I asked. “Josh says he’s running for mayor.”
“You mean Gus?” asked Mom from the window. “He’s a wierdo. Stay away from him.”
“You sure none of these other hot dishes pique your interest?” Kela asked. “We could go as old as twenty-five. Maybe twenty-seven…”
“Kela!“
“Twenty-eight? Baylee, if we keep going up the slider, your date will be able to get you 15% off at participating restaurants on Tuesdays, as long as you eat dinner by 4:00.” She grinned and ducked an imaginary blow.
“You’re supposed to be shutting this down,” I reminded her.
“I will. But first, watch this…”
She tapped the Enter key with the same reverence and authority as a NASA controller launching a rocket into outer space. Three male silhouettes appeared, each covered by a question mark.
We have narrowed it down to your three best matches! Switch proclaimed. Tap to reveal your mystery men.
Kela reclaimed the mouse and tapped on the first. The photo flipped open, and I was horrified to see Alex and his cat smiling back at me.
“It’s too bad he’s your brother,” Mom said from her perch across the room. “You two get along so well.”
“That’s disturbing on many levels, Mom,” I said. Then, to Kela, “If I wasn’t convinced I’d had enough before, I certainly am now. Turn it off.”
“Just two more.” She turned over the next photo. Dave Cullins appeared.
Dave was on a dating site? I read his profile. “Eco-gardening and mixed martial arts?” I said, snorting. I had never seen Dave do so much as a karate chop. And unless eco-gardening meant buying all his produce in the organic section, that wasn’t true either.
“I’m sorry,” Kela said. “I didn’t know Dave was on here. I thought now that Rachel was back…” She bit her lip. “Um… Dave’s gonna know you saw him. He gets messages whenever someone views his profile.”
“Mercy! Alex, too?”
“Yep.”
I was in too far now. I might as well view the third comic match the universe thought to mock me with. I clicked the next silhouette, hard and with conviction.
“That’s the spirit!” Kela said as the last image flipped over. “Wow! I don’t know him. He’s gorgeous.”
“Indeed.”
The picture was of Nick. His rust-colored hair was bound in a loose knot at the nape of his neck, and there was a hint of shadow on his square jaw line. I caught my breath as I read his profile: I’m looking for love, and until now it’s been in all the wrong places. Would love to settle down with an old-fashioned lady, preferably from the town I’ve grown to love. Things I love: Herbalism. Astronomy. Nature. Beauty. Balance. Books.
“I love those things too,” I whispered.
“He’s just trying to score points with the earthy chicks. He’ll change his profile in two weeks to lure in the goth girls. Trust me, no straight man lists balance and herbalism in his bio, unless it’s bait.”
“Now he knows I saw him, too,” I lamented, sitting on the corner of the desk. I knew it was foolish to not want to be seen as desperate, especially by people who were on Switch themselves.
Kela shut off the monitor. “Forget about that. You’ll be meeting Mr. Right at my speed dating event. Speaking of, I need to go prepare. I have to find an outfit that says I’m the sexy host, but not a threat. Do you know how hard that is to do? Catch you later.”
Kela left and I shut my office door. I wandered towards the window, where my mother now seemed to be sleeping. That was the best word I could use – her eyes were closed, and with each breath she phased in and out.
My mind returned to Yolanda Darcy and the missing comb. Why had she lied about it? For the money? Judging by her clothes and street address, I doubted she needed the cash. But you never knew what financial problems some people hid behind their white picket fences and manicured lawns.
Maybe Mrs. Darcy had forgotten what really happened? She wasn’t exactly elderly, but she was no spring chicken, either. She was at least in her late fifties. I frowned. That didn’t seem so far away, now that I was having a milestone birthday
“We’re all getting old,” Mom muttered.
I jumped. “I thought you were sleeping. How did you know what I was thinking?”
“I didn’t. I sensed the weight of it on you. I remember feeling that weight once, when your father showed more interest in his mashed potatoes than my new nightgown.” This time, she exhaled so deeply she disappeared.
I didn’t have to wait long. When she returned, she continued her conversation where she had left off. �
�One good thing about being dead, I suppose, is that I’ll stay this age for all eternity. Could be worse, considering I was almost decapitated in the wreck.”
“What?” This was new information to me. Of course, I rarely asked about the car crash that took her life. She was here, and so to me at least she wasn’t dead. “You never told me you were almost decapitated. That’s the most horrific thing I’ve ever heard!”
“It’s true.” She chuckled, massaging the muscles on the side of her neck. “There was glass. And a tree limb. I was thrown out. But I can’t remember all the details. It makes my head hurt.”
I looked at my mother’s head. It seemed to be fully intact. Of course, she was a spirit now. She could probably appear any way she wanted to, with enough focus.
I couldn’t dwell on that now. For the rest of the family in this house, life went on. “You said you knew Gus? What can you tell me about him?”
Mother’s knuckles worked their way up to her temples as she tried to draw up an old memory. From what I understood, most memories unwound after the final breath, so that the soul could move on.
“Gus Maccabee. We called him ‘Gus the Lush’ back in the day. He was a nice sort, but liked his drink. I heard that’s why Lila ran out on him. He’s been campaigning against Elmer as long as I can remember.” She slapped her velour-encased thigh and chuckled at the memory.
I did a search for Gus Maccabee on my phone’s browser. I scrolled through all the information I could dig up on him, which was rather sparse. I did find an old photo: Gus sitting on a dock, drinking from a flask, his arm around someone’s shoulders. The photo was dated 1978. “It says he lost the last election by less than twelve votes. Mom, do you know why he wanted to be mayor so badly?”
“Rumor has it he wanted to expand Reed Hollow – open it up to new businesses and maybe cut down some of the forest. I think that’s what cost him the elections – that and the fact he hates people.” Mom beamed as if she had aced her fifth-grade history quiz.
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