Unhappy Medium by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel Page B

“Be well, Kat. Stay in the light.”
    I said good-bye and hung up.
    Orin had done as much to prepare me as possible. Now I was on my own.
    I felt sick to my stomach.
    I was also terrified to the bone.

Chapter 17
    I went back inside, uncertain what to do next. I wasn’t too keen on going back upstairs after what had just happened. The
     best thing to do seemed to be to wait until my mother called me. I checked my phone, and groaned in dismay.
    The low battery light was flashing. I probably had less than an hour left on it if I didn’t make any calls.
    I decided to switch the phone off. If an emergency came up, I could try to make another call. If I left it on waiting for
     my mom, it might run out of juice before she had a chance to reach me. And I couldn’t recharge it until the electricity came
     back on.
    I was back in the same situation as after lunch. It was raining, I had nothing to do, and Jac was in cello-land. I also realized
     that I’d left my book somewhere — probably in my comfy seat in the reading room. I decided to go and get it and then look
     for a Barbie and Colin–free zone to read until Jac’s symposium got out.
    The book was exactly where I thought I’d left it, and the lovebirds were nowhere to be seen. I was heading through the main
     lobby when I saw Jac’s mom at the front desk.
    “Tylenol is fine,” she was saying, taking a little packet from the woman behind the lobby desk.
    “Mrs. Gray,” I said, walking toward her.
    She turned to face me. She had dark circles under her eyes. Her face was blank for a moment, like she didn’t know me. I found
     it very unnerving.
    “Jac’s at the strings and woodwind symposium,” I told her. I felt it was the one sentence in the universe that might cause
     her to smile. But she just stared at me, like she thought I’d been a dream and now here I was in real life.
    She fingered the Tylenol packet in her hand.
    “So you still have a headache?” I asked.
    “Obviously,” she barked, then pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be … rude. My head just throbs
     and throbs — nothing helps. Except when I get up and walk around it feels better. But I’m so tired …”
    “The water fountain’s down there,” I said, pointing down one of the halls. “For the Tylenol. I’ll show you.”
    Mrs. Gray followed me.
    “I’m so … I apologize, Katherine. You were invited here as Jackie’s friend and my guest, and I’m just not myself at all.
     I know Jackie is still angry at me. I thought if you came along and we all had fun that she might … ,” her voice faltered
     as she rubbed her temples. We had reached the water fountain but she was just standing there, as if she didn’t see it. Gently,
     I took the Tylenol pack from her hand, ripped it open, and placed the two red and yellow pills in Mrs. Gray’s hand.
    “Take them,” I said.
    She did, leaning down and taking a long drink from the fountain. I watched her curiously. Jac had told me once that her mother
     had been an excellent viola player, and that her dream was to play professionally. But her parents had not supported her ambition
     and urged her to marry and settle down instead. Jac sometimes felt like giving up the viola had left a deep mark on her mother.
    Mrs. Gray finished drinking and straightened.
    “You never think … ,” Mrs. Gray’s voice trailed off for a moment. Then she looked at me. “I didn’t plan to be this way.”
    “It’s not your fault — something is making your head ache,” I said.
    She shook her head.
    “No. I mean, I didn’t plan to be the way that I am. I know your mom isn’t like me, Katherine. Jackie talks about her.”
    I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe Jac had told her mother everything about my mom, that she was a medium and all
     that. But Jac did love being at my house, and I guess her mom knew it.
    “It’s only that I was like Jackie once. It’s probably impossible to believe, but I