The Thrashers(57)

Jodi picked at her french fries. She’d woken up with a dead arm again. Her left fingers still felt colder than her right, no matter how she warmed them. Hearing Bette talk about reaching out to dead people wasn’t helping.

It wasn’t that Jodi didn’t believe in mediums. Well, maybe she didn’t. But she had no reason yet to believe. If she was being honest, it was a lot easier to hope that Emily’s spirit wouldn’t come to them today than hoping it would.

“Now, this session is on me,” Bette said, placing a hand over each of theirs from across the booth. She squeezed. “I know you both are concerned about your friend, so I’m glad to introduce you to Nan. She’s put my mind at ease about so much over the years. I can’t even imagine having a friend die by suicide and leave you with so many questions.”

Paige flashed her thin smile. None of the others had agreed to come with them. Julian had a water polo match, and Zack and Lucy were there to support him.

Jodi cleared her throat. “What’s it like? What are we supposed to do?”

“Nan told me to only prep you with the basics so as not to muddle your energies,” Bette said. “First thing is, don’t give her information unless she asks for it. Including Emily’s name, okay? She wants to make sure she’s talking to the right person, not just who you want that person to be. Trust me, Uncle Rich has crashed more of my sessions than I can count.”

“But how does Nan communicate what we want to ask Emily?”

“That’s the best part about this spiritual world, darling,” Bette said with a dreamy smile. “Emily is with you. Emily knows already.”



* * *



Nan’s salon was nothing like Jodi was expecting. It was far less holistic healing and more family therapist: warm sunlight, sleek modern furniture, and watercolors surrounding a framed Stanford diploma in literature. Nan, herself, was also unexpected—a woman in her fifties with a brown bob and a firm handshake.

“Let me talk a little about what I do.” Nan slipped into the chair across the table from Paige. “I get images, letters of names, sensations—things like that. I’m very often wrong, okay? That’s why I ask you a lot of questions and make sure we’re on the same page. I can’t see the past, I can’t predict the future. But I can get messages from your loved ones.”

Paige nodded quickly, and Jodi watched her fingers fidget under the table.

“What if they don’t want to talk?” Jodi said.

Snapping her eyes to her, Paige said, “She does. She told me.”

“What if she doesn’t show up? That’s all I’m asking.”

Nan nodded and said, “That happens a lot. Maybe the person you were hoping to hear from isn’t ready. That’s okay. There’s a lot we can still discuss today and a lot that can still come up.”

Jodi itched to tell Nan that this wasn’t a lifestyle she intended to nurture.

“Okay,” Paige said. “How do we begin?”

“Well, on my side, it began about ten minutes before you arrived. So no need for a ‘prayer’ or anything.”

Paige sat on the edge of her chair, leaning forward.

“I’m getting a young female. An E name.”

“Emily,” Paige all but whispered.

“There’s a couple other energies here as well, but Emily seems real close.” Nan turned to Bette on her left. “You didn’t know Emily when she was alive?”

“No, I never met her.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Nan said, her eyes turning back to Paige, then sliding over to Jodi. “I just want to check some things, okay? Emily was blond?”

“Yes.”

“And young, about your age?”

Paige nodded.

“Why am I seeing turquoise? Is there anything with turquoise?” Nan looked between them both.

Jodi’s brows drew together. “Her favorite color was pink.”

Paige looked at her sharply, and Jodi flushed.

“No, I’m seeing bright turquoise. Maybe a car? Or a school binder? A favorite jacket? Turquoise or an aquamarine.”

“The only … the only thing that was aquamarine was my prom dress,” Jodi said.

Nan hummed. “Did you buy the dress together? Did she loan it to you? What’s the significance of the dress?”

Flashing red and blue lights. Her bare feet pressed against the grit of the sidewalk.

“No. She died while I was wearing it.”

Chills crested down her arms. Nan tilted her head to the side, and Jodi could almost envision Emily whispering into her ear.

“She wants you to know she was with you,” Nan said. “She was with you—was it outside? A residential area?”

Jodi nodded mutely.

“She was there.” Nan smiled, as if this was the comfort Jodi came to seek. “She—”

Nan cut off, tilting her head again and listening. She rolled her shoulders back, and leaned her elbows on the table.

“Hm. There’s someone else here. Emily and this person have very loud voices so I’m just trying to parse through what I’m getting.”

“Is it Uncle Rich?” Bette rolled her eyes. “Rich! Not today!” she yelled at the ceiling. “Today is for Paige, okay?”