to Amelia.
Kendall almost dropped the cup as she heard a voice—Amelia’s voice—whisper in her ear.
Help Ady. Please help her.
Ady suddenly jumped to her feet, and the movement broke the spell—no, memory, Kendall told herself.
“Miss Ady, what is it?”
“I will not go to the doctor,” Ady said.
“What?”
“You just said, ‘Get to the doctor, Ady. Go right away, and they’ll be able to stop it.’”
“No, I—no. I didn’t say anything,” Kendall protested. She reached for Ady’s hand.
As she took it, she felt as if a shaft of lightning shot through her. It was knowledge. Deep, certain knowledge. Ady had cancer.
The older woman was looking at her in horror, and she herself was shaking inwardly. She’d had no idea she had spoken. And the way Ady was staring at her was frightening.
But she knew.
“Miss Ady, I’ll take you myself. You have to get to the doctor right away.”
“I don’t like the doctor. He pokes and prods me.”
“Miss Ady, I think you’re sick, but the sickness can be stopped if we just get you help fast.”
Miss Ady looked around, clutching her little handbag to her chest. Then she stared at Kendall and frowned. “Is Luther Jr. going to win that football game Saturday night?”
Kendall told her, “I don’t know. I do know you have to go to the doctor. I’ll go with you, I promise. But you have to go.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll call your daughter Rebecca,” Kendall threatened.
Ady’s oldest girl was fifty-two, a lab technician at the morgue, and a no-nonsense woman who loved her mother dearly. She sometimes came in for a tarot reading herself. “Just for fun,” she always said, and it was fun; she and Kendall always ended up talking about all the different things the cards could mean.
MissAdy stared at her stubbornly, frowning. “The tea leaves say I can get better?” she asked. “’Cause if not, I am not going to be poked and probed and have needles stuck in my arms. Folks like me, we’ve had a good time of it, we’ve been blessed. We don’t mind dying. We just want it to be in our own homes.”
“You’re not going to die, not if you go to the doctor,” Kendall insisted.
“Well, all right, then.”
“Come on. We’ll make an appointment for you right now,” Kendall said.
When they reentered the front of the shop, Mason, who had been showing a customer a spectacularly pretty crystal, looked up in surprise as Kendall and Ady went straight to the phone. As they called the doctor and arranged for an appointment, Mason made the sale. The gentleman who bought the crystal held the door open for Ady to leave.
“What was that all about?” Mason demanded.
“I think she has cancer,” Kendall said.
“What?” Mason looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Since when did you start believing your own PR? Why on earth would you scare an old woman like that?”
Just what the hell had happened in there? Kendall wondered. She wanted to shake it off; she wanted to tell herself it was nothing more than the fact that she cared about Ady, and it wouldn’t hurt to have her make a trip to the doctor, just to check things out. But no matter how hard she tried to explain things to herself, she still felt uncomfortable. Something about this was genuinely frightening.
As frightening as it had been the first two times. But she had been doing tarot readings then, and it was easy to get tired when she was concentrating on the cards and her customer, easy to see things that weren’t really there.
“I…I think it must be because I spent so much time with Amelia,” she said quickly, because Mason was staring at her.
“So now everyone who is older has cancer?”
“No, of course not. Maybe it just gave me an instinct. Or maybe I’m wrong. You know I would never do anything to hurt her. But it can’t hurt for her to go to the doctor, so I’ll be a bit late on Thursday. I’m going to take her to her appointment.” Kendall walked toward the counter,
Kendall almost dropped the cup as she heard a voice—Amelia’s voice—whisper in her ear.
Help Ady. Please help her.
Ady suddenly jumped to her feet, and the movement broke the spell—no, memory, Kendall told herself.
“Miss Ady, what is it?”
“I will not go to the doctor,” Ady said.
“What?”
“You just said, ‘Get to the doctor, Ady. Go right away, and they’ll be able to stop it.’”
“No, I—no. I didn’t say anything,” Kendall protested. She reached for Ady’s hand.
As she took it, she felt as if a shaft of lightning shot through her. It was knowledge. Deep, certain knowledge. Ady had cancer.
The older woman was looking at her in horror, and she herself was shaking inwardly. She’d had no idea she had spoken. And the way Ady was staring at her was frightening.
But she knew.
“Miss Ady, I’ll take you myself. You have to get to the doctor right away.”
“I don’t like the doctor. He pokes and prods me.”
“Miss Ady, I think you’re sick, but the sickness can be stopped if we just get you help fast.”
Miss Ady looked around, clutching her little handbag to her chest. Then she stared at Kendall and frowned. “Is Luther Jr. going to win that football game Saturday night?”
Kendall told her, “I don’t know. I do know you have to go to the doctor. I’ll go with you, I promise. But you have to go.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll call your daughter Rebecca,” Kendall threatened.
Ady’s oldest girl was fifty-two, a lab technician at the morgue, and a no-nonsense woman who loved her mother dearly. She sometimes came in for a tarot reading herself. “Just for fun,” she always said, and it was fun; she and Kendall always ended up talking about all the different things the cards could mean.
MissAdy stared at her stubbornly, frowning. “The tea leaves say I can get better?” she asked. “’Cause if not, I am not going to be poked and probed and have needles stuck in my arms. Folks like me, we’ve had a good time of it, we’ve been blessed. We don’t mind dying. We just want it to be in our own homes.”
“You’re not going to die, not if you go to the doctor,” Kendall insisted.
“Well, all right, then.”
“Come on. We’ll make an appointment for you right now,” Kendall said.
When they reentered the front of the shop, Mason, who had been showing a customer a spectacularly pretty crystal, looked up in surprise as Kendall and Ady went straight to the phone. As they called the doctor and arranged for an appointment, Mason made the sale. The gentleman who bought the crystal held the door open for Ady to leave.
“What was that all about?” Mason demanded.
“I think she has cancer,” Kendall said.
“What?” Mason looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Since when did you start believing your own PR? Why on earth would you scare an old woman like that?”
Just what the hell had happened in there? Kendall wondered. She wanted to shake it off; she wanted to tell herself it was nothing more than the fact that she cared about Ady, and it wouldn’t hurt to have her make a trip to the doctor, just to check things out. But no matter how hard she tried to explain things to herself, she still felt uncomfortable. Something about this was genuinely frightening.
As frightening as it had been the first two times. But she had been doing tarot readings then, and it was easy to get tired when she was concentrating on the cards and her customer, easy to see things that weren’t really there.
“I…I think it must be because I spent so much time with Amelia,” she said quickly, because Mason was staring at her.
“So now everyone who is older has cancer?”
“No, of course not. Maybe it just gave me an instinct. Or maybe I’m wrong. You know I would never do anything to hurt her. But it can’t hurt for her to go to the doctor, so I’ll be a bit late on Thursday. I’m going to take her to her appointment.” Kendall walked toward the counter,
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