Page 69 of Pucker Up
“That explains why it hasn’t happened with Dad, or my best friend,” I mused.
“Exactly.” Fern played with one of the massive turquoise rings on her tanned, leathery-looking fingers.
My stomach grumbled, but I ignored it. “How did you fall out of love with Dad?”
Fern sighed. “I don’t want to say anything bad about your father. He did an excellent job of getting you through your teenage years. We were madly in love, but I think the last time he hit his head, it knocked something loose in there. He wasn’t the same after that. I knew what he was doing, but I didn’t have any proof. I didn’t want to break up the family based on a vision. Believe it or not, Goldie, I was once a skeptic like you.”
The grumble turned to a gurgle. “Mom, you’ll have to excuse me.”
I made it to the toilet just in time. When I emerged from the bathroom, Mom was talking to someone at the door. “Dad!” I deked around Mom to give him a hug. Morton ran past me, knocking into my dad’s legs.
“Your father wants to take Morton for the afternoon.”
Morton had already hopped around in excited circles around my dad. “How do I say no to that?”
“You and your mom should come over for dinner later. We can order something.”
Mom leaned against the doorframe. “You still can’t cook.” There was a smile on her face, and my dad laughed.
“I can make an average breakfast, but that’s about it. Are you still cooking with all the grossest ingredients you can find?”
They both laughed. They had fallen out of love years earlier, but a friendship had emerged from the ashes.
“She just put me through a turbo cleanse with celery juice.” I rested my hand on my belly. It still didn’t feel quite right. “The Indian place has some vegan options. We could order from there.”
Dad smiled. “Sounds good. I’ll be back later and we can sort that out.” He clicked a leash onto Morton and that damn dog of mine didn’t look back as he hopped into the back of the Range Rover.
“He’s a good man.” My mom smiled as Dad drove away. “We are so much better as friends. Has he introduced you to his girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?” I spent a lot of time with my father, and I literally lived in his backyard. I would know if he was dating someone. “You might need to do a vision tune-up. Dad doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
Mom nodded, and I could tell that she wanted to say something but was holding back. “Maybe it’s not that serious.”
“Fern, there’s no girlfriend. I would know.”
She held up her hands. “I’m just telling you what I saw when I touched him.”
“Are the visions always right?” It was a question I’d forgotten to ask.
“No. Not always. You will figure it out the more it happens.”
I shut the door, poured myself a glass of water, and wondered if the diarrhea was done for the day. “Thanks for the cryptic non-advice.”
Mom folded her hands in front of her and bowed. “Youwillfigure it out. That’s your journey.”
“Thanks.” I chugged the water and pointed to the closet. “There’re blankets and pillows in there. You can have the bed. I will sleep on the couch.”
“No, Marigold. I will not take your bed.”
“Too bad.” I pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and curled up in a ball. “I’m going to have a nap out here.”
When I woke up, the sun had set and my mom was nowhere to be seen. I rubbed my eyes and then doubled over. The celery juice was still wreaking havoc on my stomach. My mom had rolled into town, commandeered my afternoon with Ace, provided me with cryptic answers about being a psychic, and ruined my guts.
“Thanks, Fern,” I grumbled. “Thanks for nothing.”
TWENTY-SIX
ACE
