Page 35 of Nothing Less than Magic

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That makes zero sense, unless my future holds a threesome. Not interested.

“She’s all in white,” Misty says.

“A wedding gown?”

“No, I don’t think so. But it’s hard to tell. I see another woman. She’s angry. No, not angry. Lonely. Confused. She doesn’t know.”

“She doesn’t know what?”

Misty moves her palm lower, almost to my midriff, then higher, back to my heart. “I’m not sure. All I know is that no one has told her yet.”

Oh, for God’s sake. “Told her what?”

“Not sure. It’s murky.”

I want to ask her if people actually pay her for this.

“No, wait, she’s getting a phone call. She’s sobbing. I can feel her pain.”

“Is she me?”

“Not you. Definitely not you. But she looks a little like you.”

“Lolly?”

“Who’s Lolly?”

“My sister.”

“Maybe.”

My heart stops. “I just spoke to her this morning.”

“Then it’s not her. But there’s someone else, too. She feels distant. Like she’s no longer here. Where is your mother?”

“Dead.”

“It’s her, I think.”

My immediate reaction is to shut this down now. But I can’t. Even if it’s all bullshit, an act, I still want to know. “What is she saying?”

“She’s telling you to go back.”

“Go back where?”

Misty shakes her head. “Unclear.”

“Ask her if she’s angry that we buried her next to Dad.”

“She’s not angry.”

“Did she say that?”

“No, but I can feel it.”

Yeah, right. “Tell her we’re fine, that Lolly and I are fine. That she’s a grandmother.”

“She knows. She loves you very much.”

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