Page 66 of Pucker Up
“Oh yeah.” I laughed. “It was my go-to move. Is it working on you?”
“Well, I’m cold and I’m pretty sure there’s snow melting down my back, but I don’t care.” She grabbed onto the collar of my jacket and pulled my face down to hers. While Morton tried to find the snowball, Goldie and I made out like high school kids in the snowbank.
By the time we got back to the cottage, it was noon—check-out time. We loaded up the truck and headed back to the city, leaving the snowy paradise behind. “Promise me you will come with me when I look at cottages to buy.” I squeezed her hand. “I need a woman’s eye. You’ve seen my apartment; I might come up here and buy some modern piece of garbage.”
“That’s true.” Goldie pressed her fingertip to her mouth. “In that case, Ace, yes, I will come with you to make sure you don’t buy a piece of concrete.”
I laughed. What had started off as a tense trip had turned into one of the best nights of my life. The drive was quick, and before I knew it, the farmers’ fields had given way to the urban sprawl of the Greater Toronto Area.
“Goldie, how did you know I needed to do the Michigan?”
She stiffened. “Ace. I want to tell you the truth, but I also don’t want to sound crazy.”
“Try me.” I changed lanes and kept one eye on traffic, the other on Goldie.
Her hands were clasped together in her lap and she played with her thumbnails. “I don’t really know. I used to get feelingsabout people, you know. I could tell if someone was really good or really bad.”
I nodded. “Like a vibe check?”
“Exactly.” She smiled. “My intuition has always been good, but lately, as well as feeling things, I started seeing things.”
“Hallucinating?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She seemed unsure of herself and her voice shook. I brought her hand to my mouth and it was ice cold. I kissed her fingers. “Tell me more. I believe in intuition.”
“Do you believe in psychics?”
“Why not?” I shrugged.
“Really?” She turned to me, her brow furrowed. “You don’t think it’s crazy?”
I kissed her hand again. “You knew things you couldn’t possibly know. I don’t think you’re crazy, Marigold. I think you’re incredible. We wouldn’t have won those games without you. If you can do that a few more times, we might even make it to the finals this year.”
She sighed. “That’s the thing. I can’t control it. Sometimes, I see things; sometimes, I don’t. Last night, we did a lot of…touching, and I didn’t see one thing. I kind of liked it. I don’t see the visions as a gift.”
We had arrived in the busy Toronto traffic and I turned off the highway and headed to Goldie’s side of town. “If you’re helping people, how is that not a gift?”
“Throwing hockey games is not exactly charity. What’s next, the racetrack?”
It stung a little. The games weren’t thrown, they were played and won fair and square. “Is this what you wanted to tell me?”
“That’s one of the things.” I slowed as we reached Goldie’s street. Morton stretched and sniffed the air. He knew he was close to home. She rested her hand on my leg. “Will you comein and hang out with me at my house? We can have a drink and chat. I don’t have any of that fancy Brignac champagne, but I think I’ve got some Sauvignon Blanc that Mel left the last time she slept over.
“Does a one-legged duck swim tight circles?” I joked when I was nervous, and there was something about Goldie’s “chat” that made me worried.
“Oh my.” Goldie laughed. “That’s terrible.”
“Of course, I’ll hang out with you. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” The boughs of the trees hung heavy with snow as I crept along Neville Park Road.
I was going to pull into Goldie’s driveway, but there was a car in the way. “Is that your car?” It was a beat-up blue Toyota covered in stickers.
Goldie groaned. “No. That’s Fern’s car.”
“Who is Fern?” I parked the truck on the street and shut off the engine.
“Fern Lauper. My mom.”
