Misty (2 page)

“That's sweet, but I want cosmetic surgery. When I look in the mirror, I want to smile at my reflection, not cringe.”

“When you were staying at your mom's house, you told me you didn't care about your appearance anymore. You said you were
through with material things and uninterested in earthly pleasures.”

“That's because I was planning on killing myself, but if I have to live in this world, then I don't want to look like a monster.”

“You don't look like a monster, babe.”

“Yes, I do. It's bad enough that I'll never be able to walk again, but having to live with a hideous face is too much for anyone to deal with and not lose their mind.”

Brick squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I accept you. Why can't you accept yourself?”

“You didn't turn down cosmetic surgery when my mother offered to get the scar removed from your face, so stop being a hypocrite.”

Brick laughed. “Wow, like old times, you're still running off at the mouth. I get that you want to look like your old self, but I'm skeptical about this psychic thing.”

“Why do you think I'm lying about being psychic?” Misty asked.

“I'm not saying you're lying, but maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.”

“Remember what I told you about being with Shane…around the time I convinced you to help me kill myself?”

A shadow fell across Brick's face. “I don't want to think about that. Those were dark days. At first I thought I had killed you, and after your mom revived you, she wanted me locked up for attempted murder. If you hadn't pulled through, I'd be spending the rest of my life in jail.”

“Well, I did pull through, and I'll tell anybody who thinks about accusing you of anything that I took those pills on my own.”

“We both know that I helped you try to end your life, Misty,” Brick said with a grave expression.

“And no one needs to know. That's between you and me.”

“Getting back to this psychic stuff, do you really want the spotlight on you when you should be focused on recovering?”

“I need to focus on something other than lying in bed for the rest of my life.”

“You're not going to be confined to bed. I'm going to get you one of those motorized wheelchairs.”

“Am I supposed to be happy at the prospect of getting around in a wheelchair? My life is fucked and we both know it; give me some credit for trying to be self-reliant.”

“You don't have anything to worry about; I'm gonna take care of you.”

“I don't want to have to rely on anyone other than myself. This is a chance for me to lead a productive life and be useful; I don't want to miss the opportunity. So, stop being negative and support me in what I'm trying to do.”

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“With the media coverage, I'll be able to attract clients. Eventually, I'd like to do seminars and group readings. I want to write books…maybe get a TV show. Psychics make a lot of money.”

Brick looked at Misty with pity in his eyes. “I don't want you to set yourself up for disappointment. Suppose last night was only a fluke?”

“It wasn't a fluke. Like I was saying, before I came out of the coma, the last thing Shane told me was that I had to come back here so I could touch people's lives.”

“Shane is dead; I'm never gonna believe you were actually with him.”

“Believe what you want. I know we were together, and I know what he told me.”

Brick glanced down at his hand, which was resting gently on hers. “Our hands are touching; do you see my life flashing in your mind?”

“No, but that's probably because I already know everything about you.”

“M
aybe you should tell that reporter to hold off on the story. Make sure it wasn't a one-time thing before you start broadcasting that you're psychic.”

Misty smiled. “I already tested my abilities on another person.”

“Who?”

“The housekeeping dude was in here cleaning up, and I asked him if he minded bringing the bouquet of flowers closer to my bed. He brought the vase over to my bed, took a rose out of the bunch, and held it up to my nose, so I could smell it. I tried to hold the flower on my own and my hand brushed against his, and that popping sensation happened again. Then the images started. I saw dude as a little boy, riding a bike. The vision flashed forward and I saw him as a teenager, riding around in a stolen car—”

“How'd you know it was stolen?” Brick interrupted.

Misty shrugged. “I could feel his energy. His friends were excited, but he was scared that they were gonna get caught. Next, I saw him fully grown and traveling on the subway with an attractive woman and a little girl—his family. They seemed very happy.”

“Did you see his future?”

Misty sighed. “Yeah, but I didn't tell him that part.”

“Why not?”

“Because his future was horrible. He was holding a gun against the temple of a man with dreadlocks.”

Brick leaned forward. “What?”

“He seemed desperate, and I don't know if he was robbing the man or what. I didn't know how to deliver that kind of news, so I didn't bring it up.”

“Sounds like he got his life together after he became a family man, but I wonder what happened to make him take such a wrong turn.”

“He didn't take the wrong turn,
yet.
It's gonna happen in his future; maybe he can change it if I tell him what lies ahead.”

“You're not kidding around?”

“No, I really saw it.”

“Do you know exactly when he's going to commit this crime?”

She shook her head. “I don't even know if he actually pulled the trigger; I only know what I saw. And the impression I got was that the man with the dreads was messing around with the janitor's wife.”

“You should tell him, Misty. Maybe you can prevent him from committing murder.”

“So, you believe me?”

“I don't think you'd make up a story for the fun of it, so yeah, I believe you're seeing visions. Whether or not your visions are a glimpse in the future, is a different story.” Brick grew quiet briefly. “Do you think you can stop bad things from happening if you give people a heads-up?”

“Maybe.”

“You should tell the man what you saw.”

“I don't want to tell him that his wife is fooling around. Suppose she hasn't even started cheating yet? I don't want to put ideas in his head. And I don't want to be responsible for him going home and whipping his wife's ass.”

“That's exactly why you shouldn't be interfering in people's lives with this supernatural crap.”

“I didn't ask for this gift.”

“It might be a curse. Do me a favor, and stop touching folks until you figure out if you're really seeing into the future. Wait and see if that nurse moves into the beach house, because the way it stands, you don't know if your visions are accurate or not.”

“After the story runs in the paper, people are going to be requesting my services, and I can't afford to turn any money down.”

“I have a couple dollars; we're not exactly broke, you know. In fact, I'm gonna look for a place for us when I leave after visiting hours are over. I want you to chill with the readings, Misty. You can't be meddling in people's lives if you're not sure what you're seeing is real. For all you know, this so-called gift of yours might be only temporary. I didn't think you wanted to be in the limelight, and I was hoping this time around, we'd lead a more peaceful life.”

“I want a peaceful life, too. But I need to earn money to pay for surgery. It's hard to look in the mirror with a face like mine,” Misty said in a somber tone.

“There's got to be another way to pay for surgery. I'll figure something out.”

“I got this, Brick. You concentrate on getting us a place, and as soon as I get a consultation with a plastic surgeon and find out the cost, I'll start working on getting the money together.”

Brick looked at Misty pityingly.

“Don't feel sorry for me. I love a challenge, and I guarantee you, I'm going to get the money for my surgery.”

Brick nodded. “You gotta do whatever makes you happy.”

“By the way, what are you going to do about my mother?” Misty stared at Brick intently.

“There's nothing to do. Our marriage is done and over with. She already filed for divorce.”

“How long will it take?”

“About ninety days. I'm not contesting anything, and as long as I see my son on a regular basis, I'm good.”

Suddenly angry, Misty's eyes narrowed. “My mother's gonna end up old and alone, and that's exactly what she deserves.”

“Don't talk bad about your mother.”

“It's the truth. She was dead wrong for stealing my man. What kind of mother does that?”

“It's in the past, Misty; let it go.”

“I can't.”

“We were both wrong. You were wrong for bringing that dude, Dane, to the crib and I was wrong for hooking up with your mom.”

“But we have an excuse; we were young and dumb back then. Young people are supposed to make mistakes and learn from them. But my mother was a middle-aged woman, and she not only fucked my man, she stuck the knife in deeper by marrying you and having your baby. That shit was grimy as hell, and I won't ever forgive her. She hurt me to the core.” Tears brimmed in Misty's eyes.

Consoling her, Brick kissed her on the right side of her face, the side that hadn't been crushed by the tire iron. “It's you and me, now. We're back—mature enough to deal with everything life throws our way.”

Misty sniffled. “It was unbearable living in the same house with you and my mother, and that's part of the reason I wanted to kill myself.”

“I didn't know it was hurting you like that; I didn't think you cared about me anymore.”

“Brick, I realize I was a selfish person, but I still had feelings. It was a living hell for me to be confined to a bed in the same house where you and my mother were sharing a life together.”

“By that point, you'd been with so many different guys—including famous rappers with money—I honestly thought we'd lost our connection.”

“Tell me this…”

“What?”

“Did you love my mother?”

Brick didn't respond right away. “I thought I did, but now I realize the only woman I've ever truly loved is you.”

Brick arrived at Thomasina's house with a shopping bag filled with toys for his son.

“You should have asked me what he needed before you wasted money on toys,” Thomasina said curtly.

“What does he need?”

“He's growing out of everything…his shoes, his clothes.”

Brick cut an eye at his son and smiled as Little Baron began playing with the remote control SUV he'd bought him. Returning his attention to Thomasina, he said, “The child support I pay is supposed to cover clothes and his other expenses.”

Thomasina threw up her hands in mock surrender. “Forget I mentioned that your son needs clothes and is starting to look like an orphan. I'm sure you'd prefer spending your money on his sister than on him.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you and Misty are two of the most selfish people I know. Neither one of you care who you hurt.”

“I didn't mean to hurt you, Thomasina, but you had already started the divorce proceedings when you walked in on Misty and me in her hospital room.”

“You told me you were over her
before
we got married.”

“I honestly thought I was.”

“At my age, I should be living for myself and doing whatever I want to do, but now I have to raise your child.”

“You don't have to do it alone,” Brick assured her.

Thomasina snorted. “Who's gonna help you with him—my invalid daughter?”

Brick flinched. “What's up with you? How can you talk like that about your own flesh and blood?”