Plus None 2 by Emily Hemmer

“Honey, if that were true--” She sets a steaming mug in front of our resident clairvoyant. “--I wouldn’t be on my third read through of Fifty Shades of Grey.”
    Amber blows on her cup, waiting patiently. I’ll admit, last time she passed on a message from the other side, she was pretty spot-on. I sit cautiously as she balances the glass sphere on the mouth of her coffee mug. I know it’s just an illusion created by the heat of the cup, but the glass becomes foggy and I swear, there’s a wisp of smoke swirling within.
    Amber takes hold of my hand. Her skin is cold and her grip is very tight. I’m on the verge of asking what the hell I’ve gotten myself into, when she shushes me. Her eyes are shut tight. Did she…sense me?
    “Oh God, shut up already,” she moans, rolling her head from shoulder to shoulder.
    I lower my voice to a whisper. “I didn’t say anything.”
    “Not you.” She moves side to side as though in a trance. “Her.”
    I have no idea who ‘her’ is. We’re the only three in the bakery.
    “Yes, fine. Yes. I get it, stop blabbering.”
    Brook’s eyes are also closed, a look of fierce concentration on her face.
    “Alright already.” She stiffens, gripping me painfully and her eyes snap open. “Don’t get your boots wet.”
    She drops my hand, removes the crystal ball from atop the cup, shoves it back in her bag and proceeds to dunk the remainder of her scone into the coffee before shoving it in her mouth.
    “That’s it?”
    Brook nods like she’s just been witness to the secret of life.
    Amber chews loudly.
    “ Don’t get your boots wet?” I repeat back to her.
    “I know.” She rolls her eyes. “She wouldn’t shut up about it.”
    My aunt twists her mouth into a frown. “Your Mama used to be better with words. Still,” she sighs heavily, “it’s good advice.”
    I stand, covering my mouth with my hand. “Let me get this straight. That’s the message my mother chose to remain earth-bound for? Forgoing Heaven, its streets paved in gold and swarming with angels? Don’t get your boots wet ?”
    Amber snaps her fingers above her head. “No. You’re right.  There was one more thing.”
    “What?”
    “Duck.”
    The bell over the front door jingles. I turn toward it as a small blue handbag hits me square in the face.
     
    The foot tap is the universal sign for, you better explain yourself right now. Paige currently employs this tactic from the counter as I lock up the empty shop for the day. My nose smarts from the purse she threw at my face. I know it only contained my wallet and some odds and ends, but it felt like a bag of bricks when it connected with my cheekbone.
    “Well?”
    “Well what?” I fire back, rubbing my nose.
    “You up and run out on my engagement party without saying goodbye to me or Ken or anybody.  You give the poor valet a heart attack, then set the Banjo triplets on him and you haven’t returned any of my phone calls. That’s what.”
    Normally I don’t fear my baby sister but she’s brought the claws out today and I’m not as young as I used to be. “All right, fine. I’m sorry."
    She folds her arms across her chest and looks away from me. “I don’t accept.”
    “You have to accept.”
    “Well, I don’t.”
    “But you have to when someone tells you they’re sorry.”
    “Says who?”
    “Jesus. And Dr. Phil.”
    Paige throws her hands in the air and collapses into a seat. “You know, I don’t like sayin’ it but, I told you so .”
    I edge cautiously closer.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “I’m talking about you and Alex.”
    I feel like I’ve been hit in the face with the purse again. “I don’t--”
    “Oh save it.” Paige waves me off, a look of pure disgust on her face. “Cadence told me about your all’s little make-out session in the cellar.”
    A surreal kind of quiet settles between us. Paige’s never been one to hold back how she feels, but she’s never spoken to me with