Chapter 2
“Whore!”
River Rigel sat up, her heart pounding, as the ancient woman with the wild white hair and eyes black as voids faded away. “Damn it, Marjorie.” She ran her hands over her face. “I wish you’d quit doing that.”
Shamus, her Maine Coon, gave a loud protest and burrowed deeper under the comforter. He’d grown used to Marjorie’s presence but often told her off when she managed to disturb him.
Awake now, she shoved aside the comforter and shuffled to the bathroom.
Dawn was just breaking, sending filmy light through the old stained-glass windows of her little house.
In the mirror, she saw that her short dark hair was sticking up at odd angles, and her eyes looked more gray than blue, surrounded as they were by bloodshot whites.
Beneath her eyes were dark smudges, like she’d forgotten to wash off eye makeup.
Not that she ever wore any, but she’d woken up next to enough women who did to know the look.
Sighing, she turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face.
Haunted nights didn’t make for good sleep, and a lack of sleep meant she looked more like someone from the Addams family than someone you’d want a relationship with.
Ablutions done, she shuffled to the kitchen and flipped on the coffee pot. In the reflection of the microwave door, she saw Marjorie hovering near the window as she often did as the sun rose. Of course, when River turned around to get the milk, there was no one there.
She took her coffee to the window seat and looked out over her large front yard.
Her bungalow was one of the few set back from the street, and she loved that extra bit of privacy.
The glass orb hanging in front of the kitchen window bobbed gently, sending little rainbow dots of light across the walls and ceiling.
Starting her day this way was exactly right.
Bitter, dark coffee and dancing color. Marjorie was close enough to make River’s skin goosebump, despite their truce once Marjorie realized that River could see and hear her.
River still didn’t know what kept Marjorie’s spirit in the old, converted church.
She’d asked but never received any reply.
“Okay. Let’s get the day started.” She whistled tunelessly as she showered and dressed, then made herself a bowl of oatmeal with cinnamon and honey.
While she waited for it to go from scalding to edible, she pulled out her well-loved, fading tarot deck.
Since she didn’t have any specific questions today, she just shuffled, cut the deck in three, and pulled out a card.
The Wheel of Fortune. That was one she hadn’t had in a while.
What turning points or changes would she possibly face?
Her daily routine was one she cherished, and she liked that there were rarely things that she couldn’t make sense of or that upset her equilibrium.
With a shrug, knowing full well that it would make itself clear by the time the day was over, she set the deck aside, leaving the card separate so she could analyze it further when she got home.
She grabbed her keys and headed out into the late summer heat, which was already rising along with the sun.
The three-block walk to her shop, Echoes and Insights, was always one she enjoyed.
Well, almost always. When snow was pummeling down like snowballs being thrown by angry angels, it was less than ideal.
On the corner, she popped into A Cup of Joe.
“Morning, seer of all things grim and grotesque,” Billy sang out as he started her morning latte.
“Morning, purveyor of all things caffeinated and corny.” River sat at the counter and gave a quick smile to a few of the other regulars.
He snapped a dishtowel in the air, making it crack. “You look like you spent the night in a fist fight with the wind. Are you okay?” He set the latte down in front of her and then bagged an apple fritter to go with it.
She didn’t bother to tell him she’d been kept awake by the cries of a newly departed soul from down the street, then been woken by her ghostly, highly judgmental roommate. “Lots of work right now. And I’ve been getting things ready for the autumn festivals.”
“Don’t remind me. I’ve hired three kids from the college to help me out, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to explain what a coffee bean is, before I can even start showing them how to make one into a drink.”
“You’re so ageist.” She smiled and took a sip of the latte, which was heavenly. “See you later.”
He’d already turned to another customer as she pushed open the door and headed back into the sunlight.
As she unlocked her shop, she looked critically in the front window.
August was nearly over, and it was time to get the fall merch out, along with the decorations.
The window was smudged and needed a good clean too.
She could barely make out the figurine of the witch in a bikini sunbathing beside her cat, also in a bikini, that read Lake Michigan: Home of the Best Beach Witches.
She wasn’t entirely sure it made sense, but it sold well, and that’s what mattered.
As she entered and flipped on the lights, she inhaled the smell of sandalwood and sage, the hallmarks of any good metaphysical shop, as far as she was concerned.
She flipped on the spotlights in the special cases of magically bonded wands and the one with the Zippo lighters with different witchy designs.
She lit today’s incense, a strawberry cone, and then went into the back room and put on a pot of coffee infused with CBD.
It helped keep her relaxed when her clients got feisty.
She chugged the last of the latte she’d picked up from Billy and grimaced.
This was probably a vice she needed to get a handle on.
The bell on the door rang, and she checked her watch. On time, as usual. She pasted on a smile. “Mrs. Crabtree. Nice to see you. How are you today?”
With a face that matched her name nicely, Mrs. Crabtree glowered at her, as always. “Don’t you use that tone with me, River Rigel. I used to change your diapers, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am. You remind me of that often.” River motioned to the small, two-seater table in the corner. “The usual?”
“No. Not the usual. The usual is me telling you I want to hear from Charles, and you telling me he doesn’t want to talk to me. Today, I want you to do better.” She sat primly at the table, cane across her lap like she might use it as a sword at some point.
River sat down and tapped the huge piece of pink quartz in the middle of the table. “I’ve never said he doesn’t want to talk to you. I’ve said he isn’t here. I’m not a magician, Mrs. Crabtree. I can’t just pull him out of the afterlife so you can tell him off for dying.”
She harumphed and tapped the table hard. “Other psychics can do it. Why can’t you?”
“You know why.” River gave her a gentle smile.
“Other people can be unscrupulous and pretend they’re talking to someone when they’re not.
I won’t do that. If Mr. Crabtree was here, I’d tell you.
” She shrugged and squeezed Mrs. Crabtree’s hand.
“And that’s why you keep coming to me instead of going to someone else. ”
Mrs. Crabtree seemed to melt a little, like she was a sugar cube someone had poured water over. Her misty eyes teared up, and she stared at the quartz. “I miss him so much. I’d give anything to have just one more word from him.”
This was the hardest part of the job. River could feel Mrs. Crabtree’s genuine pain.
Her loneliness clung to her like a wool blanket, suffocating whatever joy she might have had after her husband’s death.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could offer you that.
But I hope you can take at least some comfort in the fact that he didn’t linger.
He went straight off to whatever waits beyond this world.
And that’s what we want for our loved ones.
Not that they drift around, unable to let go. ”
“I disagree. I want him to hang around to be with me. Not lazing about on some stupid cloud with a woman half his age.”
“I don’t…” River began and then stopped. Who was she to say what the afterlife looked like? “I’m sure if he could be here, he would be. Everyone knows how in love you were.”
She nodded and then pushed to her feet, thankfully not using the cane to whack River over the head. “We were. I’m sure I’ll be with him soon enough, and I’ll kick that young hussy right off his cloud, believe you me.” She shuffled back out, the bell on the door tinkling softly.
River shook her head and went to get her coffee. There was a faint earthy taste in the coffee from the CBD, but otherwise, it was just a normal brew meant to keep her awake and moving through the day.
“I have news!” The bell rang again, immediately followed by her business partner’s voice. “I have news!”
River came out, cradling her coffee, and smiled at Audrey’s enthusiasm. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”
Audrey huffed. “I have news. We’re going out tonight!”
River shook her head. “Unless you’re talking about you and Tony, your statement is incorrect. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
“No, you are. There’s a gala at the Hawthorne Exchange. They’re showing Wendy’s work!”
Now the enthusiasm made sense. Wendy was Audrey’s daughter, and she’d been working on getting her own art exhibition for years. “Okay, so we’re going out. What time?”
Audrey pulled out her phone. “It opens at six, but I want to be there by five thirty so we’re the first ones in and I can get my embarrassing mom moment out of the way before the people with money show up.”
“I’ve got an evening séance with the McAllisters, but I’ll just let them know we need to reschedule.” River pulled out her phone and then went to the appointment book behind the counter to get the phone number.
“Are they the ones trying to get hold of Grandpa to ask questions about the will?” Audrey started pulling things from a bag and placing them around the room. They already had price tags, which meant she’d been working from home again.
“Yeah. They don’t like the will he left behind, so they want me to tell them he updated it, and who he left everything to. I explained that it wouldn’t hold up in court even if he did deign to speak through me, but they said they’d take my word for it.”
“And when you don’t tell them what they want to hear, they’ll head over to the Psychic Emporium to find someone they can pay to say what they want to hear.”
River shrugged. “Fine with me. I’m not about to demean myself by making shit up.”
“Same old River. Always standing her moral ground, even when it gets her picked on. Or in this case, loses us a client.” Before River could object, Audrey pulled her into a hug. “It’s something I love about you.”
River settled. She’d had enough people pushing her over the years. She didn’t need Audrey doing it too.
The day was mostly routine after that. She did a few tarot readings, sold a few books, and attempted to reach a few souls who had passed over.
Though two of them didn’t appear at all, one of them had been a musty smell, a shadow made of disappointment.
They’d refused to come closer to talk, and she’d given up after about ten minutes, sensing the futility of it.
The man had said he’d come back another day and left looking bereft.
Audrey turned the sign to closed and wafted her hand in front of her face. “What’s that smell?”
“Necrosis.” River stretched out the muscles in her back, which were tense despite the CBD in her coffee. “They hardly ever smell of roses, you know.”
“I don’t get why they smell at all. Why attach a scent to a ball of energy? Seems like a waste.” She waved a sage stick around, ridding the shop of the odor.
“I’m going home to change. I’ll see you at the exhibition. Or did you want to ride together?” River asked, grabbing her keys and already planning what she’d wear.
“No, we’ll see you there.” Audrey gave her a kiss on the cheek after she locked the shop door behind them. “Don’t be late.”
“Am I ever?” River asked, backing down the sidewalk.
“Are you ever on time is the question.” Audrey waved and got into her little VW Bug that looked like a lime on wheels.
River took her time getting ready and wore her favorite cologne. She glanced at the Wheel of Fortune card. Maybe whatever it was about would come up tonight. A feeling of anticipation niggled at the back of her mind, and she grinned.
“Bye, Marjorie. Don’t wait up!” She shook her head as the ceiling lamp swung in response.
She headed into the garage, which was once just a gardening shed, and rolled out her bike.
She pulled on her riding gear and checked her backpack to make sure there was a comb in with the change of clothes she’d throw on once she got there.
Something, or someone, was waiting at the end of this ride.
She could feel it in her bones. Hopefully that meant someone with long hair, curves, and a desire for a night of fun.
At a hotel, obviously. She laughed behind her visor as she set off. There’d be no bringing home a one-night stand with Marjorie hanging around.