Meeting Miss Mystic by Katy Regnery

truth. He wouldn’t forgive her. She knew it.
    “He won’t see it that way,” Zoë said softly. “He’ll see that I lied to him.”
    “But, if you explained…setting up the account so long ago…meeting his friend Maggie…how you kept meaning to tell him, but kept falling for him? He might understand?”
    Zoë snorted lightly. “Maybe. If I had him tied to a chair and he couldn’t leave and was forced to listen to me. But, even then—”
    “What did you say?” Sandy uncrossed her arms, sitting forward, at attention.
    “Even then, he wouldn’t—”
    “No. The other part. About him not being able to leave.”
    “If I had him tied to a chair and he couldn’t leave and was forced to listen to me?”
    Sandy nodded. “Yeah. That part. That’s your answer.”
    “Sandy…what are you talking about?”
    “You have to go to him.”
    “Go to him? Let him see me like this ? Um…is the sun too bright for you? Do you have heatstroke?”
    “Listen to me, Miss Smartmouth, you have to be face to face with him on his turf when you tell him the truth. He’ll have to listen if you’re face to face. But if you’re face to face here , he can just leave and go home. You need to be face to face there . He’ll have nowhere to go. You keep saying that if you tell him the truth he’ll shut you down, hang up, never write back, right? That’s harder to do when someone’s standing in front of you.”
    Zoë couldn’t believe Sandy was being so dense. Her voice sounded crazily high pitched when she started speaking again, even to her. “Have you missed everything I’ve said? I don’t look like Holly. I don’t have Holly’s job. Holly doesn’t have tattoos. Holly doesn’t have black hair and dark brown eyes. Holly doesn’t have a foot-long scar on her face and a two foot-long scar on her leg. Holly’s a human toddler thinner.”
    “First of all, you are Holly. You are Zoë Holly Flannigan and you’re freaking me out talking like you’re two separate people.” Sandy shrugged. “Second of all, that stuff doesn’t matter.”
    “Doesn’t matt—Look, Sand. You love me and I appreciate it when you say that you can’t see my scars anymore, but it’s because you look at me with love. You compare now to two years ago, and yes, it’s better. But, I still get looks. I still get questions. I still get assholes like that guy last month at O’Byrne’s who make comments under their breath.”
    “But Paul’s not that guy,” said Sandy, quietly but firmly, taking another sip of coffee. “You gotta go to Montana, Zo. It’s the advice Carly would’ve given you. I know it.”
    Zoë smiled sadly and her shoulders drooped in defeat when Sandy said “Cah-ly” because it sounded so much like her mom, it was like she was there with them.
    Sandy folded her hands on the table, training her eyes on her niece. “Carly told me to go for Rob. Did you know that? I didn’t like him. I thought he was too straight. Too buttoned up. He’d come to the pizzeria every other week and do the books for Grammy and Pop. An accountant. Woo-hoo! What’s more boring than that? Carly said it was the way he looked at me. Always asked me out and always said ‘I’ll try again next time, Sandy’ when I said ‘No way.’ Carly said, ‘Rob loves you. Rob’s always gonna love you, even when you’re gray and your boobs sag to your knees and you got three kids giving you wrinkles. Rob’s still gonna come home on time and say thanks when you put meatloaf in front of him.’
    “That was a long time ago, Zoë. You know, I didn’t even say yes to a date with Rob until after Carly was gone and I was so lonesome for her. I remembered what she said about Rob the next time he came in with white flowers for me and Grammy. I was so sad and he was so nice…I gave him a chance, almost more out of respect for my dead sister than any other reason. And you know what? She was right. She sure was right. Rob’s not a rock star, but I’m puking three,