Page 77 of Heal Me

The doorbell rings. “We’re not finished with this discussion.” I point at him, grabbing my phone and purse.

Gabe carries my overnight bag downstairs for me and I look out the peephole, Sam’s lesson having sunk in. Opening the back door, I can’t help but laugh. Turek’s dressed in a blue captain’s uniform with aviator sunglasses. “This is your captain speaking. We’re ready for takeoff. Don’t worry, Cupid. I’ll get your girl to Boston in pristine condition.”

“Such a comedian,” Gabe says and I try my hardest not to laugh.

“If the hat fits,” he says as he puts on his pilot hat.

“You mean shoe?” Gabe corrects him.

“You lawyers and your pesky details. Charlotte, are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“Have you scouted a safe drop point?” Gabe asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“A low risk area without security cameras. One in which you can pop into existence without witnesses.”

“One time that happened and I’ll never hear the end of it,” Turek chides. “Besides, what’s the point of being a mind bender if you never bend a few minds.”

“A few minds? Try fifty.”

“Again with the details. So how about it, Charlotte? Care to go head-to-head?” he asks as he taps his temple.

“Not today.” I’m about to start on a research project and the last thing I need’s a headache.

“But that’s not a no tomorrow,” he says hopefully.

“You have to be firm with him like you’re dealing with a small child,” Gabe advises. He takes me in his arms and gives me a proper goodbye kiss.

“Alright, alright. Enough of that. Kindly extricate yourself from my passenger.” I take Turek’s hand, and the next thing I know, we’re standing in the stall of a small bathroom. He opens the door and steps out first and I follow. A woman’s washing her hands and her eyes go wide as saucers. Turek walks up behind her and his eyes do that weird thing. He tells her something quietly, and I turn my head just in case his mind bending bounces off the mirror and hits me.

“Ready?” he asks me.

“Thank you, but I can make it from here.” We’re in the bathroom of the coffee shop by Dad’s house.

“Not so fast. I’m to provide white-glove, front-door delivery service. Gratuity is unnecessary, but greatly appreciated.”

“Here’s a tip. You don’t actually have to wear white gloves.” He’s now wearing a different Hawaiian shirt from the one he wore the other night at the bar, along with shorts, flip-flops, and white gloves.

“I’ll leave them on. Sadie back there didn’t wash her hands long enough to suit me,” he says as he opens the door. “Sing ‘Happy Birthday’ two times. Is that so hard to remember?”

“Maybe she forgot because you did just bend her mind,” I point out.

“I didn’t give her amnesia. Fine, so that happened one time.”

I give him a look.

“I didn’t give Sadie amnesia. You know what, forget I even said anything.”

“Poor choice of words.” I avert my eyes just in case he meant that literally.

We walk out of the ladies’ restroom and run into an employee. “I have to clean that bathroom you two just screwed in,” the woman says angrily as she points at us. “So freakin’ rude.”

“You didn’t see anyone walk out of the bathroom,” Turek says, and I glance down.

“Of course. I didn’t see anyone walk out of the bathroom,” she says in a daze as she walks away.

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