“All men are potential rapists.”
“Well, all women are potential psychopaths.”
“The ones who want to date me are.”
“Could you at least pretend to be a functioning member of society?”
Standing up, she wipes off her pants and grabs the water. “That’s pretty rich coming from you.”
She has a good point. I’m not sure what my problem is, but I know I’m not right in the head. Wrestling between the part of me that wants to see Fran and the part of me that wants the visions to stop is exhausting. Lost in thought on our way down the hill, we walk in silence. Sam hasn’t asked any more questions, but whether that’s because she’s thinking about my problem or thinking about what happened up there on the hill, I can’t say. Glancing at her profile, I smile at her features that are so similar to mine. My soul sister.
She feels me looking at her. “What?”
“You’re gorgeous.”
Laughing, she reaches over and smacks me on the head. “And you’re blind.”
“Obviously.”
“Come on,” she says. “Let me drive your ass home yet again.”
“You must be prince charming. You’re always coming to my rescue.”
“That’s me.” Sam blows on her fingers and rubs them on her shirt.
“What the hell does that gesture even mean?”
“It means you’re posh.”
“Yeah, but why?”
Shaking her head, she pushes me into the passenger door and walks around to the driver’s side. “The thing is,” she says as she starts the truck, “what if you do have something seriously wrong with you and you didn’t get it checked out because you were convinced it was some sort of message from beyond?”
“Sam, there is nothing wrong with me physically.”
“I’m just saying you don’t know.”
Refusing to answer, I stare out the window as we drive back to the other side of the island toward my house. Sam’s jaw is clenched which means she’s either worried or pissed. I don’t want to upset her, but I don’t know what to do to make her understand. Wanting to break the silence, but not sure what to say, I finally just poke her in the arm. “Hey.”
She looks over at me and I can see the concern in her face. “Hey what?”
“What if I agree to give Dr. B a call tomorrow?”
“For real?”
“Totally.”
She nods and smiles. “I think that would be a fantastic idea.”
“Okay, I’ll do it.” I stare out the window for a few moments before turning back to her. “If I turn out to have a brain tumor, you’re taking Frank.”
“I can live with that. Me and Frank...we have an understanding.”
Grinning, I look back out the window. Maybe going to the doctor isn’t a bad idea. I mean, I’m pretty sure there is nothing wrong with me, but it wouldn’t hurt to rule a few things out. After all, I am becoming a “woman of a certain age” as an ex of mine used to put it. Besides, if I do have a brain tumor, I can act as crazy as I want and no one will bother me about it. Smiling, I look back at Sam to catch her glancing from the road to me. We grin at each other and for a second, I am so overcome with my love for her that my heart literally feels as if it is swelling. She reaches over and takes my hand and I lean my head back against the seat, closing my eyes. When the truck makes the turn onto my dirt road, I open my eyes and look out the window as we head up the hill. I smile as we pass Shovel Guy’s driveway. “George,” I remind myself. At home, Sam pulls up next to my door and offers to come in to make sure there’s no one staked out at my house. “No, I’m good. I’m sure Voldemort is done with me for the day.”
Sam shrugs and releases my hand. Out of the car, I lean back in the door for a moment. “Hey, Sam, don’t tell anyone I’m going to the doctor, okay?”
“No problem,” she says, nodding. “Don’t tell anyone I held your hand. They might think I’m queer.”
Laughing, I slam the door. Sam drives away, waving as she disappears around the bend in the road. At the front door, I suddenly get a knot of anxiety. I never used to be afraid to come home, dammit. This is starting to piss me off. I’m a hermit for shit’s sake. Resting my forehead against the front door, I try to clear my mind. It’s hard to tell if I’m having premonition anxiety or just general anxiety. Maybe I’m depressed or maybe I’m just feeling the general malaise of humankind. The smooth wood of the door isn’t telling me anything.
I’m half tempted to just turn around and walk back down the hill, but where would I go? I suppose I could walk over to Roxanne’s house. If she’s home, I can sit and have tea with her. I wouldn’t even have to tell her that I was freaking out. I need to apologize for running out on her today anyway. This is why this gift, as Brad calls it, really pisses me off. If I’m a psychic, I should be able to see things like my ex showing up and going psycho on me. At the very least, I should be able to tell if someone is in my house, and if so, if they are friend or foe. While I’m at it, I should be able to pick out the winning lottery numbers, too. And I want a pony. Sighing, I decide to take my chances. Turning the handle on the front door, I find it unlocked. When the ladies left today, they must have left it open. Sticking my head in, I glance around the foyer. The coast is clear so I wander into the kitchen. Frank is sprawled on the kitchen counter with his tail in the sink. That’s no indication. There could be an entire militia in here wandering through with hand trucks taking everything I own and Frank’s only question would be whether or not they had any beef jerky with them. I tickle the top of his head with my fingertips and he lets out a tiny “blert.” Still no sign of any intruders as I look from the kitchen into the front room. Wandering through the house, I touch my things, trying to judge by feel if someone else has been touching them. Here and there, I lay a finger on the back of a chair, on a side table, or on a framed picture. Everything looks strange to me somehow, as if I don’t really belong here. Staring at the wall, I try to make sense of the family in those pictures. Do they know me? Do I know them? I touch the picture of my mother and suddenly, I’m near tears again. My mother was such a bitch but I loved her so much. I love my dad, too, but I don’t know him. I doubt he knows me at all. My sisters love me and I love them, but looking at their faces, I realize that I don’t know much about them at all. I know that Susannah loves ice cream, but I don’t know what scares her. I don’t know if she has any dreams or if she’s satisfied with her life. Jamie is a completely mystery to me. All I really know about her is that she never stops moving and that sometimes, she forgets to leave me her newest address and I don’t even know that she’s moved until a letter I’ve sent comes back to me. One of these days, she’s going to forget to call me at all and I will have lost her forever.