Page 14 of Sort of Seeing Someone

“How’s your head feeling?” she asks. “Better than this morning, I hope. I remember that first one like it was yesterday—it came on so strong. And your palms? They’re not still itchy, are they? You can put a little oatmeal on them if so.”

How did she know about…

“I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything is fine,” I announce as I begin to pack up my things.

“My mother used to call them ‘growing pains,’” she remarks with a little laugh. I assume that was the psychic equivalent of a dad-joke, however the punchline is still lost on me.

What does she know, that I don’t know, that I’m supposed to know?

“Can we go back to thisgiftyou spoke of?” I shoot my shot one last time, begging for a little clarity on her cryptic message.

“That is foryouto discover, as I do not know the extent of what you will be able to do or see. But good things are coming, dear. Worry not.”

“Whatdoyou know? Is there anything youcantell me?” I try once more to squeeze some juice out of dear old Esther Higgins.

After a long pause, she simply says: “I just know, you are one of us. And that your time is up.”

I look at the clock.

“It’s been five minutes. Do you really count this as session?”

“No, I mean, your time is up in California—for now, at least. Go home. Be with your kinship. Liveamongst those who are just like you.”

My sisters are nothing like me, I think to myself.

She gets up from the table and leaves me sitting there dumbfounded. But before she exits stage right altogether, her voice pokes through the beaded curtain one last time.

“You probably haven’t seen it yet yourself, but you’ve already met the one.”

There were only two men in my life in OB. One was Gavin, and he’s hightailing it to South America right now. The other?

“Broke up with me in a text this morning,” I mention.

I wait for what Esther will say next now that she stands corrected. But her game doesn’t get thrown off. Instead, she doubles down.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get another chance.”

5

Chapter Five

I step out of Esther’s shop and take a breath of fresh air, or as fresh as it gets in a state were pot is legalized.

Just then, my phone rings again. It’s my sister, Nora. I know I’ll regret this later, but I answer.

“No, Nora,” I say, diving right in. “Liv did not call me yet for my birthday. Nor did Mom. You’re first.”

“Good to know,” she says. “But that’s not why I’m calling.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, detecting a hint of dread mixed with worry in her voice.

“I need you to come home for a week. I’ll pay for your plane ticket. Esteban has to go to Houston for work and I cannot—I repeat—Icannotstay home alone with the kids all day.”

“Your kids are in school all day,” I remind her.

“Yeah, but like, before and after that.”

“That’s like a total of three hours.”

---