Page 27 of Professor and the Seer

9

John

“I wondered when this day would come,” John’s mum sang after having dropped the bomb by calling Frieda his future wife.

Frieda looked appalled, her face taut as if she’d sucked on a tart lemon. While Mum bustled to the fridge, most likely to ready more food, she hissed, “How come you never mentioned this before?”

“Because you seem convinced I’m going to die, which really is the opposite of how Grams told me I’d live to be an old man. She also predicted I’d get married within months to the first woman I brought home.”

“I can’t be the first woman you’ve ever brought here.”

“You are.”

Her brow arched. “How come I’m just hearing about this now?”

“Would it have made a difference? You need Grams’ help. We had to come.” Yes, when Frieda had told him to pull out the pocket watch he’d immediately thought of the prediction—and he hadn’t hesitated. The woman he brought would end up being his wife, and quite frankly, he didn’t see a problem with it being Frieda. She, on the other hand, didn’t feel the same way.

“You have to tell your mom she’s mistaken. That the fortune telling meant someone else.”

“I don’t know about that. Grams isn’t usually wrong,” he countered. Never mind the fact he and Frieda weren’t romantically involved. It wasn’t for a lack of wanting on his part. Frieda drew him, and only the fact she insisted he’d die kept him from pushing.

“We are not going to be a couple,” she whispered as his mother returned with an armful from the fridge. He spotted cheese, bread, and salad.

“Is there anything you don’t like to eat?” Mum asked. “Allergies?”

“No. I’m sure anything you make will be delicious,” Frieda answered politely.

“You’re too skinny,” Mum remarked.

“I have a tendency to forget to eat,” Frieda admitted with a shrug.

“So does my boy when he gets too involved in a project.” A loud beep had Mum’s head swiveling. “Give me just a second while I swap the laundry.”

Mum left, and Frieda frowned as she looked around.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Are you shielding me? Because I’m not getting any vibes.”

“At all?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not since I walked inside. Is your mom’s house spelled or something?”

“Not that I know of,” he murmured. When Mum returned, he chose to ask, “Did you have anything special done to this place because of Grams?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Mum asked as she began slicing the bread.

No point in hiding it. “Frieda has a power like Grams, only hers never turns off. She can usually see the future of everyone, even objects, but apparently our house isn’t giving off any vibes.”

“You poor dear. That must be so difficult,” his mother commiserated.

“It’s not easy, which is why I’m interested in finding out how you achieved it with your home. I’d love to do the same thing with my place.” Frieda didn’t hide her interest in discovering the secret.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t the slightest idea. John’s dad was the magical one. Could be he did something?” Mum offered on a lilt.

“Your home is lovely. Have you always lived here?” Frieda shifted the conversation.

“Generations now. The estate’s grown since it first started, of course. Luckily, when John’s father passed, they allowed me to continue living here.”

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