“Hey, you don’t have to leave,” called the young woman.
Alison stopped. She turned around to face the woman. She couldn’t be more than eighteen. Her eyes were the most stunning shade of blue she’d ever seen; maybe she wore contacts. Her blonde hair was long and thick.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Alison said.
“You didn’t. I was just finishing up my yoga. It’s quiet this time of year, so I love doing yoga on the beach. Actually, it’s pretty quiet most of the year.” The woman smiled, her teeth as white as the puffy clouds above. “Are you here to visit or what?”
Alison wondered that herself. “I’m just passing through.”
“I’m Renée Dubois.”
“Alison.” She wasn’t going to give her last name, as it wasn’t necessary.
“Pretty name,” Renée said. “My dad was French, or at least that’s what my mom tells me. Hence my name.”
“Your name does sound very French, very Parisian.” Alison emphasized the last word, trying to emulate the proper French pronunciation.
“And I’ve never been out of Florida. Lived here with Mom my entire life.”
She wanted to ask if they lived in one of the beach houses, but she didn’t want to appear too nosy. “That’s nice, to have roots and all.”
“So you move around a lot?” Renée asked.
Alison gave her credit—she was very perceptive for her age.
“I do, but it’s what I like. Never really wanted to stay in one place too long. So many places to explore,” she said, hoping she sounded like a free spirit, not a woman who’d spent her entire life searching for a place to belong.
“Wow, you’re lucky. I wish I could travel. When I finish high school, I am outta here. I can’t wait to see the world.”
So she was much younger than Alison first guessed.
“How long before you graduate?”
“I’m starting my junior year in the fall. I like school most of the time; other times, it totally sucks. Especially math, I hate it,” she said, smiling and showing off her perfect teeth.
Up close, Alison saw Renée’s features were that of a much younger girl, a beautiful girl who would morph into a knockout in a couple years. “I’m not a math whiz, either,” she said, even though she’d made excellent grades when she attended school, and shockingly she’d graduated with honors. Little good it did her, as she’d never pursued a college education. There were times when she’d thought about taking a few classes, but felt she was too old, and she knew what she needed to get by in this world. A college education wasn’t in her future.
Renée sat down on the sand, patting the spot beside her. “Have a seat. I’m staying for the sunset, but I told Mom I’d be home right after.”
Alison thought she’d spend a few hours waiting, as it was early afternoon. “So you stay on the beach all day?” She didn’t want to sit on the damp sand, so she stood beside Renée, digging her bare feet in the sand.
“It’s my day off from the shop. Mom lets me hang out till sunset. Only in the summer, though. During the school year, she’s so strict I want to pull my hair out.”
Alison laughed. “Your mom loves you, that’s why she’s strict.”
“Do you know my mom? Has she ever read for you?” Renée asked.
Puzzled by her question, she shook her head. “I’m just passing through, so no, I don’t know your mom.”
“Well, you should see her before you leave the island. She’s the real deal. ‘Gifted’ is what she calls it.”
Curious, Alison asked, “What is she gifted in?” This was unknown territory, so maybe she shouldn’t have asked.
“She’s psychic,” Renée said.
Expecting anything but that, Alison knew her surprise showed on her face.
“It’s okay, we know it’s odd to strangers who don’t live around here. Mom reads the Tarot, all kinds of cool stuff. I never tell her I think it’s cool, but it is.”
“So how does one make an appointment with your mom?”
“Just walk in the store or call. She does her cards and readings in the back of the shop most of the time. I work most weekends, but not today. Mom said I needed sunshine and fresh air so she gave me the day off.”
“I see.”
“It’s the souvenir shop across the street. That’s Mom’s main business, but the other stuff she does is way cooler than selling T-shirts with alligators on them.”
Last night, Alison remembered she’d parked there. “Does she close early?”
“No, though Friday nights, she goes to Naples. Tampa sometimes; wherever she’s paid to go, she gives group readings.”
Renée’s mother sounded like someone Alison would like to know better. “So, if I wanted to see her, what’s the process?” It might be interesting to see if what Renée told her was actually true. Though she doubted Renée would tell an outright lie, it could be that she just believed what her mother told her. Alison had never really believed in such nonsense, though she did believe in karma.
“Just go to the shop and see when she’s available.”
“Sounds easy enough.” Before she left the island, she would visit the shop and see what vibes it gave her, given the services offered.
“Summers are pretty slow. If you want, I’ll send her a text to see if she’s busy now.”
“No, that’s okay. I might stop by her shop on my way out.”
“She could be booked up by then, but it’s up to you,” Renée said.
“Thanks for the offer,” said Alison. “I want to walk the beach a while, then I’ll see.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
“Not at all.” Alison found the teen’s company quite amusing. Never having a real friend in high school, she was curious to see what a teen girl’s thoughts were now that she was no longer one of them.
They walked alongside one another past the last house, then veered left. “This isn’t the best part of the beach. The marina is always noisy with all the boats stopping there. They gas up, then cross over to the bait shop, which is a totally gross shithole.”
“The one owned by John?” Alison had to ask.
“You know him?” Renée asked, her tone of voice odd, almost angry.
Not in the way she was asking. “No, he saw me on the beach, introduced himself, that’s all.” She wouldn’t fill in the gory details, as they weren’t necessary.
“Mom thinks he’s weird, won’t allow him in her store,” Renée told her. “He’s in and out of trouble all the time.”
“Thanks for warning me. I thought he might be a rotten egg.” Which was putting it nicely.
“You’re spot-on, Ali. Is it okay if I call you Ali?”
“It’s fine.” Pedro had called her “Ali” the day she’d started working at Besito’s, but no one had used the nickname recently. “So tell me more about this little island.” She said it as a way to avoid more personal questions.