Page 67 of Sort of Seeing Someone

Step Nine: I pick up the final piece of paper representing the future and hold it to the flame of the candle on the right. I watch the paper burn as I repeat a fertility mantra five times.

“Healthy baby come toLiv. Motherhood is what she’ll give,” I say in almost asing-songyway over and over.

“Are we almost done?” Nora asks.

“Last step,” I say. “Blow out the candles, place the crystal on a window sill facing the moon. Fall asleep and wake up feeling sufficiently unburdened.”

I close the book and Nora blows out the candles. She rushes to open the blinds and crack a window for fresh air. She quickly gathers everything back up—the candles, the lighter, the pen—and discards the ashes of the burned paper into the garbage in my bathroom. I place the crystal on the window sill.

“You did a good job,Moonie.”

I smile at my sister’s approval.

“Remember: not a word about this toLiv.”

Nora makes the zipping-her-lips motion with fingers across her mouth. I hold up the Scout’s Honor sign.

Weird as this whole thing was, a feeling of undeniable hope—and true sisterhood—washes over me.

20

Chapter Twenty

I haven’t seenShereéJackson in person since bumping shoulders with her at Sweet Baby’s, but it came up on my Instagram feed that she will be at theBucktownHoliday Market covering the event forWindy City Todayso I keep an eye out for her as I finish setting up my table.

Speaking of my table, I have a new sick setup. After sendingYasa link to the semi-botchedWindy City Todayinterview, she commended me for expressing a desire to take things to the next level: in-person events. However, she alerted me that the difference between popping open a garage-sale plastic card table and commissioning a local woodworker to build out something exclusively for MBA could translate to way more sales. “It’s called ‘creating anInstagrammablemoment’,” she explained. And so I used the cash tip from my stint at TheBrockmeierto have a local maker build me my very own pop-up booth.

It’s a light-colored reception desk with my logo hand painted on the front in black acrylic paint. The top is a slab of wood painted a slate gray. The whole thing can break down to fit flat in a trunk.

On the surface of my table, I’ve turned three wooden crates on their sides so they look like shadow box dioramas. Inside them, I’ve organized my Love Potions and noted the prices—based on sized—on small, circular chalkboard cut outs. Slices of tree branches about six inches in diameter serve as risers to give a little dimension to my display. And of course, I light my namesake candles to really set the tone. All in all, the setup screams HGTV meets Sabrina the Teenage Witch, which Yas approved.

While attendance at the show is slow to start, I pass the time by adding some more handwritten notes to the spell book.

I title a page ‘NEW QUESTIONS’ and underline it twice. Then I free write the things I’ve been wondering about as of late:

How far into the future can I see?I’ve seen immediate future (Yas—yoga studio incident; bus driver—impending vehicular breakdown; Lily—admissions letter at the nail salon) and I’ve seen, what I assume is, the near-distant future (Ollie—getting our freak on). Can I see beyond that? What will Ollie look like when he’s sixty?

Do the visions always come true?I can validate what happened with Yas in the yoga studio. I saw the bus break down. And I can safely assume Lily got into college. Which leaves me with my semi-kinky vision of being with Ollie. All I can say about that is that I have a pretty good gut feeling that’s where we’re headed. That’s four for four with Exexveei accuracy. And if that’s the case…

Dare I…monetize this?So far, I’ve managed to make income on everything except “my gift”—which is essentially palm-reading on steroids. As Angeline mentioned, people would pay big money to have access to a human crystal ball, especially one who doesn’t look like a grandma-faced troll. How much would I charge for something like this? Do I set my table up on Michigan Avenue with a sign that says, “Step Right Up”? Do I need a permit for that? Insurance? Maybe I should consider doing bachelorette parties…

At that, a familiar voice interrupts me and I slam the book shut.

“Excuse me, I’d like to buy some…wait. Don’t tell me. Give me a sec…some sort of hocus-pocus lotion?”

Close enough.

I discretely set the spell book face down on my chair and get up to greet Ollie, who kept his promise to come find me at the Bucktown Holiday Market across from where he lives.

“Good memory,” I say with a smile.

“Engineers have a lot of storage space in their brain. It’s kind of like a hard drive up there.”

“Speaking of, I’m a little shocked to see you, Robot Boy, at my booth.”

“How could I not come?” Ollie steps up and blows out my candles. “Fire hazard.”

I roll my eyes as I fan the smelly curls of smoke.

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