Shady Bay (3 page)

“I’ve got ya.” He smiles. “Look, my friend Brody over here is a
Paramedic and he’s gonna look you over. Okay?”

I nodded. Brody eased over and sat down on the edge of the bed opposite Hot Dimple. He opened a black canvas bag and grabbed a stethoscope and one of those light things, which he used to torture my eyes and look inside my ears, nose
, and throat. It was awkward and I prayed I didn’t have any ear wax or boogers. “Your pupils are equal and reactive. Everything else looks good. Can I take a listen?” He held up the round end of the stethoscope with a hopeful look on his brow.

“Okay.”

“Just breathe normally.” He warmed the round thing on the stethoscope before putting it on my skin. First he listened to my chest and then moved around to my back.

“Take a few deep breaths.” I complied.

“Sounds good. Lay down for a moment.” I eased back and laid down, looking at the ceiling. I flinched when the scope landed on my stomach.

“Oh, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong there. I hit my head.” I sat up quickly. But the concern etched on his face indicated that he’d already figured it out.

“Hey, um…Jax, Celeste, can you wait outside for just a minute. I need to talk to her about a few things and then I’ll give you some instructions. I think she’ll be fine, but you’ll have to watch her for the next couple of days and wake her up several times a night. I’ll explain all that in a minute, but...I need a minute with her.” He smiled at them, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Hot Dimple Jax and Celeste
didn’t even bat an eyelash. They filed out of the room, closing the door behind them.

“You okay?” Brody asked softly. His hair was reddish-brown and his eyes were blue. Not dark blue like sapphire and not baby blue, but somewhere in between.

I nodded. “I’m okay.”

“You’re hungry. Stomach cramping?”

I didn’t look at him. Suddenly the pattern on the old lady’s quilt was very interesting. “Yep.”

“You’re going to be fine. You might have a mild concussion and might have a headache for a couple of days, but you’ll be alright.” Brody stood up, his AC/DC t-shirt and jeans betraying the softness underlying the hard exterior. He pulled out his wallet. “Here. Get something to eat and find a place to stay for a few days.” With his hand, he extended a pile of twenty dollar bills.

“No. I’m fine. Really. I can’t accept that. I...I’m just looking for work and haven’t been able to find anything yet. But I’ll be okay.” I smiled and tried to believe what I was saying so that he wouldn’t see through the lie that had just slipped so velvety through my lips.

He laid the money on the small night stand beside me and replaced his wallet. “It’s cool. I want to help. And I won’t say anything to Jax. But I’m sure Celeste knows. She knows everything.” On the last word, his eyes widen dramatically before he bursts into maniacal laughter, wiggling his fingers in the air.

What in the world?
Before those words could leave my mouth, he’d packed and zipped his bag and was closing the door behind him.

I could hear
talking, but it was muffled. A few minutes later, Dimple walked in carrying a Pepsi and some cut strawberries in a bowl. “Hey, Celeste told me to bring this to you.” He put both on the small end table beside me and then helped me sit up in the bed. I had to restrain myself. I wanted to chug the bottle until the sticky, syrupy liquid flowed like a river down my chin, stuffing strawberries into my mouth between greedy drinks. Instead, I sipped the sugary soda like a normal person, my hands shaking in concealed restraint.

“Thanks.”

He pulled a wooden rocking chair over from beside the window and sat beside me. “You okay? You’re shaking like a leaf?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I was just checking on you. Brody left and he’s the expert, but I can call him back over any time.”

“How do you know him?”

“He’s my best friend.” Jaxon smiled and it damn near lit up the room.

“He was really nice. Thank you for calling him.”

“No problem.”

His eyes studied me for a long moment. I started squirming. His eyes weren’t scrutinizing or judgmental, but seemed genuine and curious.

The door of the room opened and Celeste came in with a tray of hot steaming food—a grilled cheese sandwich, cup of chocolate pudding, another full of coffee, a bag of cool ranch Doritos. I’d already inhaled the strawberries while talking with Jaxon, but my hunger hadn’t been sated. Saliva pooled in my mouth and I prayed none had leaked out and dribbled down my face.

“Here
, Mercy-girl, Brody said to feed your headache.” She winked.

My mouth gaped open. No one called me Mercy-girl except for Daddy and she didn’t know him. There was no way.

“How did you...?”

“I’m a medium, dear.”

“A medium?”

“Psychic, fortune-teller, spiritualist...
Medium.”

“Oh, um...”

“It’s okay. It’s a lot to take in. Your Daddy sure does love you, baby girl.”

I looked from her to Jaxon praying she’d keep quiet about Daddy’s current residence. She handed the tray of food to Jaxon and winked again. “Well, enjoy. I’m going to head back to sleep. Early morning appointment. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours. Brody’s orders.” She smiled, wrinkling the skin all over her kind face.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Please don’t wake up just for me. I’m good.”

“No, sweetie. You aren’t good. But you will be.” She put her hands on her hips. “And don’t sass Mama Celeste! I
will
wake you up in a couple of hours. Then again in a couple of hours after that until that big ball of gas rises up over the ocean and the birds start singin'. Got it?”

“Yes
, ma’am.” I giggled. Jaxon stood and stretched his arms up in a big yawn. His shirt rose up and I could see the skin of his stomach above his jeans. And holy hell, what a stomach it was. The boy was built. A small trail of dark hair disappeared into the denim and I looked away before he could catch me gawking. Celeste chuckled deeply.
Oh, crap
. She winked at me again and headed out my door. Jaxon followed, waving and softly saying goodnight before the door closed behind him.

Who were these people?

The blinds in
the room were jerked open ceremoniously. Celeste stood proudly by the window, humming to herself. She looked a whole lot less like the little old lady who’d greeted me last night and a whole lot more like the fortune-teller she’d claimed to be. Rings were stacked on all of her wrinkled fingers. Those led to bangles stacked on her wrists. A bright, floral shirt was tucked into her gauzy white skirt. She wore no shoes but her toes were also covered in rings. Hair that had been tucked into curlers last night was now teased and held into place by a silk scarf and a lot of hairspray. Her eyelids were bright blue and her lashes were thick with black mascara. Even her lips and cheeks were bright red.

“Good morning,” she sang. “Time to get up for the day. I’ve got bagels for breakfast and some cereal somewhere around here if you don’t like those.” She stopped and looked at me.

“Oh, no. Bagels are great.”

“So, let’s cut the shit. You need a job and a place to stay? Some help getting on your feet?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Clapping her hands. “Great. I’ve got a job for you and you can stay here, but I’m working on getting you a place of your own. I’ll pay you at the end of each workday for now so that you can have some money for food
, and well, all the things we need cash for. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Get ready. Get downstairs. Eat and we’ll go to work.”

“Where are we working?”

She grinned saucily. “You’ll see.”

I threw on the same clothes I’d worn yesterday, brushed my hair and teeth
, and ran downstairs. After scarfing down a peanut-butter smeared bagel, I cleaned up my mess and met Celeste at the door that led to the carport. She was still barefooted. “Well, come on, Mercy-girl.”

She locked the door behind us, walked to the sidewalk and when the road was clear, we walked across the road to a tiny little house, whose clapboards had been painted gun-metal gray.
Above the awning was a sign which sported two hands atop a crystal ball. The image was encircled with the words, “Madame Celeste, May Your Future Be Bright.”

Celeste unlocked the front door and we stepped inside. The front room was crammed full of more than my eyes could take in at once. Candles in varying colors and scents, crystals, a wall full of books, shelves of herbs, crystal balls, dragon sculptures,
and Ouija board games: if it was weird, this place had it.

Behind the small register area was a beaded curtain revealing a back room with a small round table covered in cloth and scarves. In the center of this table was a crystal ball. A real one. I expected to see voodoo dolls and eye of newt somewhere. This was just too weird.

Candles of different colors were strewn all over the mantle in the back of the room, some on candlesticks, some in wrought iron holders, and some in lanterns. Silk scarves hung from the three lamp shades in the room. The scent of sage laid heavy in the air.

“It’s not a gimmick. I’m not here to amuse tourists, in case you’re wondering. I have a gift and it’s real. Most of my clients are locals, though I’ll read for anyone. I don’t discriminate.”

I nodded, taking everything in. “You know my nickname.”

“Yep. I know a lot about you
, baby girl. Glad you left when you did.” She patted my shoulder and went about the store flipping lights on and plugging things into the wall outlets. A fountain began flowing in the corner of the room near the main window. It was peaceful, and though a little new age for my tastes, it was cool. It was a fresh start, a new job. And I was damn thankful for it.

Celeste spent the day showing me how to use the register, explaining how to book appointments and about her
“regulars” that had standing appointments with her at designated times and days throughout the week or month. She showed me how to stock merchandise and answer the telephone.

The books were
alphabetized by subject. At the end of the day, I was confident. Especially because she wrote me cheat sheets regarding the candles, herbs, and crystals and their prescribed uses. And apparently she worked mostly evenings and nights, so tomorrow I’d be on my own.

The following day Celeste walked me to the store and set everything up for me, all the while whirling around in her nightgown. It was so plain and what one would expect a lady of her age to wear, completely contrasting with her normal attire. She was vibrant, awesome and made me smile. I just loved this woman.

Checking the record book, she had logged five readings the night before. Five? It was only March, off-season. And oh my gosh, she charged one hundred dollars for a reading? Wow. I had no doubts that she did have a true gift. She knew about Mama and Daddy, knew why I finally left. She was the one person I couldn’t keep things from, couldn’t hide from. When I first realized that, it had scared me to death. But now it felt refreshing and... Well, it felt liberating that she just knew and I didn’t have to tell her. I was a bit of a private person when it came to the crappy parts of my life. My rule: the less I had to explain, the better.

Last night Celeste borrowed Jaxon’s car. He lived in the furthest unit of the three townhouse complex. She drove me to the local Goodwill store. “You need clothes. We’ll get you clothes.”

“Oh, I don’t have any money, yet.”

“Pssh. What did I tell ya? Here.” She handed me an envelope with a single one hundred dollar bill in it.

“A hundred dollars! For one day! No way. That’s way too much, Celeste.”

“Pssh. Listen to you. You think I charge chump change for a reading? You have a lot to learn about me, sweetie. This is your pay. You earned it. You’ll keep earning it. Now, you’re gonna go buy a few things to wear. I know you’ve only got a few outfits.”

Good old-fashioned shame stopped my retort. “Okay.”

The Goodwill was like a freaking superstore. It was huge! There were huge sections of clothing, furniture, appliances--anything one would ever need. I found several things in my size and for one dollar each, I loaded up. The cutest things were in the next size up. I held up an awesome white maxi dress and wondered if I could safety pin the back to make it work.”

“Can you sew?” Celeste had appeared from out of nowhere. Did she have teleportation power, too?

“Yes. I mean, I have before. I’m no expert, but yeah. I can. Sort of.”

“Got an old sewing machine in one of my closets if you want it. Used it one time and ran the damn needle through my finger. Took everything I had not to toss the evil damn thing out the window.”

I giggled. “I’d love to use it.”

“Have it. If it leaves the closet, it’s either going with you or out the window. I’m still mad at it.”

“Cool. I’ll take it.”

“We’ll need to get some thread while we’re here.”

I threw the dress in the bag and went through the next sizes up. I scored several sundresses and
maxis. I’d be stylin’ in these babies! Eeep!

I snapped back to reality when the little bell above the front door jingled, and spent the next two hours leading a lady through the candle collection. Apparently the different colors meant things and with Celeste’s cheat sheet and this woman’s issues, I was able to sell her one of every color
, except black. I even talked her into an amethyst crystal and a book about aromatherapy.

People filed in and out
, here and there the rest of the day. Most knew exactly what they wanted or needed. One girl was around my age with black hair, dark eyes, and crimson-stained lips. Her skin was like porcelain. She was dressed a black dress with a black and purple corset laced overtop. She was beautiful. She bought books, candles, rosemary, and sage and a pendulum. As I was bagging her items, she even booked an appointment with Celeste.

“Haven’t seen her in
a while, but she knows who I am.”

I smiled. “Sure. What’s your name?”

“June Adkins.”

“I love your name.”

“Thanks. You’re new?”

“Yep.”

“New to Celeste’s or new to Myrtle?”

“Both.”

“Cool. Maybe I’ll see you around. If you ever want to get out and do something, you can call me. Where’s your cell?”

“Oh, I don’t have a cell phone. Sorry.”

“That’s cool. Do you have a pen and paper?”

I laughed. “That I do have.” I handed her a Post-it and Sharpie and she scrawled her name and number on it. “Thanks. I don’t know anyone but Celeste and Jaxon, so it would be great to have a friend.”

“I don’t scare you away with all this?” She motioned up and down her body.

“No. I think you’re beautiful!”

She laughed, handed me correct change and gathered her bag of goodies. I promised to call her this weekend.

That evening before
Celeste usually closed the main shop and opened for readings only, Jaxon sauntered in the door carrying a dark gray canvas bag full of tools. He looked at me expectantly. “What did you ladies need?”

“Oh, I…Celeste, what did we need?”

Celeste stepped up beside me and put her arm around me. I was part of a team now. “Mercy, show Jax that leaky sink in the back bathroom.”

“What leaky
─”

“Oh, you know the one. Now, run along.” She shooed us away as the front door dinged and another little old lady walked in. The two hugged and then disappeared behind the curtain.

“Well, Jaxon, do you know where the bathroom is?”

He quirked a brow. “Do
you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I do.”

“Prove it.”

I huffed. “Fine. Follow me, Handy.”

He mumbled something about showing me handy from behind me.

“I do have ears, Jaxon.”

“I know that, sweetheart. I meant for you to hear it.”

I stood in the doorway while Jax dropped to his knees and examined the ‘leaky sink.’ He used wrenches and tightened everything he could find.

“You gonna watch me all evening, sweetheart?”

“I’m not your sweetheart. And yes, I think I’ll watch.”

He leaned over to look beneath the pedestal again. The light gray t-shirt he was wearing rode up. The boy was cut. I mean, wow. He was wow.

“Like what you see, Mercy?”

And…he caught me staring. “What, your wrench?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. My wrench.”

When he’d tightened everything possible, he put his wrenches away and stood up. “Want me to walk you home?”

“It’s just across the street.”

He shrugged and grinned. “So.”

“Let me get my stuff.”

I gathered my things quietly, careful not to disturb Celeste and her psychic energy connection, or whatever she had going on. I just didn’t wanna mess up her mojo. Jaxon held the door open for me as I slipped my cross-body bag over my head and stepped outside.

“Thanks.”

His brows drew together. “You seem genuine about that thank you.”

“I am. I appreciated you holding the door open. Doesn’t happen much at all anymore. Not to me and not to most girls, I think.”

“Well, that’s just bullshit. My mama would tan my hide if I wasn’t polite to a woman, any woman.”