“What exactly do you mean?”
She reaches for my hand, turning it over. She opens my palm and runs her index finger from my wrist to the tip of my middle finger. “Your aura is off. It’s not of this world. You don’t fit here. This is not where you’re supposed to be.”
I snatch my hand away, suddenly defensive. “Why would you say that?”
She tilts her head to the side, grabs a fistful of what I think is air from above my head, opens her palm, and studies it. “You’ve changed things.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Yes, of course I’ve changed things. That was the whole point. I wanted to change my life to one that never had Stuart in it.
“What’s wrong with changing things if it’s for the better?”
She studies me, squinting her eyes, tutting softly to herself. “What may be better for one may not be better for all. We are all tiny threads in a greater tapestry. If you pull one, you may risk undoing everything.”
The words what the actual fuck are on the tip of my tongue, but I suck them back as we’re interrupted by another middle-aged woman. This one is short and a little round in the middle, with light-blond curly hair and big glasses. Far less judgy eyes. “Are you ladies waiting for the restroom?”
I shake my head.
“You go right ahead, Rosaline.” My mysterious companion waves her in. “God knows with the amount of tea I’ve been drinking, I’ll need it again by the time you’re done.”
This time, I do take the opportunity to exit. I climb the back stairs two at a time and don’t breathe until I’m in Aunt Livi’s apartment with the door closed behind me. That was weird, right? Three weeks ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about that conversation. I’d make some sort of joke in my head about the contents of her tea and move on with my life, but now I’m not sure. There’s a weird gnawing in the pit of my stomach. I’m rattled. And I really need to talk to someone.
Kiersten’s phone goes to voicemail, but she calls me back two minutes later as I am pulling the emergency ice cream from the freezer and scooping myself the sizable bowl needed to cope with hearing that my life choices might be dooming the entire universe.
“How’d things go today?” she asks. “You going to become a millionaire business mogul and support your sister and her ridiculous family?”
Oh yeah, Priya’s meeting. I almost forgot.
“Meeting was great. It might be a decade or two until I’m rolling in it, but I promise to put you up in a nice retirement home.”
Kiersten snorts. “I’ll take it.”
“Are you busy right now?” I ask her. “I’m over at Aunt Livi’s, and I need some moral support.”
Kiersten lets go of a long breath. “Problems with lover boy?”
“No. Actually, things with him are really great. It’s my other problem. I’m worried I might be causing a permanent rift in the space-time continuum.”
There’s the muffled sound of Kiersten’s voice on the other end, as if she’s covered the phone with her hand and is talking to someone. “Give me thirty minutes. I need to make sure Riley finishes his math homework, then I’ll be over. Are we coping with booze or sugar tonight, and do I need to stop at the store on my way?”
I stare down at Aunt Livi’s near-empty ice cream container. “Sugar. And yeah, maybe pick up a tub or two of ice cream.” It may take more than one bowl until I feel okay about potentially destroying the universe.
* * *
—
By the time Kiersten makes it over, Aunt Livi has wrapped up her book club. The two of them enter the apartment together. I suspect they may have been conversing outside, judging by the minute-long gap between the thumping on the stairs and them actually opening the door. The likely theme: Has Gemma slid through time again, and do we need to seek out some professional help?
Kierst plops a new pint of mint chip on the counter. They both scoop their bowls before settling into their usual spots, Aunt Livi in her armchair, Kiersten on the fainting couch. I give them a few bites of untainted chocolate-mint joy before launching into the recap of my potentially paranormal encounter downstairs. When I’m done, I look up. Aunt Livi looks stressed, with deep lines etching her forehead. Kiersten looks like there’s a sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue, waiting patiently for its turn.
“What do you think?” I ask Aunt Livi specifically.
She exchanges a look with Kiersten before drawing a deep breath. “It sounds like you were speaking with Miranda. She’s new to our book club but very well read when it comes to historicals.”