Soul Mate (The Mating Series) (2 page)

Peanut noodles
were my favorite. “Sure,” I said. I grabbed two plates and served the noodles.

Famished,
I wolfed down the first helping and dished second plate before Jimmy spoke again. “So, how’s the
ho’
business?”

“There’s no business like ho’ business.” I
giggled at my wit. We laughed simultaneously. “Seriously, it’s not bad. I had a girl go AWOL, yesterday, but I’m sure she’ll turn up.” Mary House had the capacity to house thirty women. Currently, there were three permanent residents and five residents’ court ordered to stay for one hundred and eighty days. The women who were court ordered to stay at Mary House went through an extensive drug treatment and counseling program.

It wasn’t
uncommon for the court ordered women to become FTA, Failure to Appear. The court issued a warrant for their arrest. They were usually caught and returned within seventy-two hours. The Indianapolis police officers knew the prostitutes; they couldn’t hide for long. The women were normally picked up walking down Washington Street looking for Johns.

“How’s the psychic business?” I asked. Jimmy earned a living
as a psychic. Listed in the directory simply as
Kim Investments,
Jimmy managed his business out of an impressive twenty-fourth floor office at the Chase Tower downtown. He read for an exclusive group of Indianapolis’ most elite. He kept his client list confidential. He never divulged his client’s identity, not even to me. The confidentiality was as much for him as his clients. 

At age two, Jimmy
began predicting the future. Jimmy’s mother, Park Min, loved her youngest son, but she feared the things he saw. She sent Jimmy to a Korean temple and had him exercised, or the Korean equivalent of an exorcism.  Jimmy’s mother refused to treat him like a normal child after. Jimmy learned to keep his abilities secret. To his parents, Jimmy worked as an investment consultant. He counseled people on their financial portfolios, and advised them on investing money. It was not exactly a lie. Jimmy had an uncanny ability to predict changes in the stock market. He gave me tips from time to time.

“My week wa
s pretty boring,” Jimmy said. “Only two readings and one new referral.” Jimmy only accepted referrals from other clients or a respected person in the paranormal field. A paranormal investigator referred me to Jimmy after all of his equipment broke. Mom detested that investigator.

“Is it the slow season?” I
asked.

“There isn’t a slow season,” Jimmy said
. “Well, actually, there are times when I have more business than others.”

“Really? When?”

Jimmy concentrated. “Halloween is always busy.”

“I can see that.”

Jimmy’s face darkened. “Then there are the disasters.”

“Disasters?”

“Oh yeah, I saw every one of my clients the week after Katrina. Then there’s other things that increase business, like elections and wars.” I never considered how current events affected Jimmy’s business, but it made since. When people were content they didn’t need to know what lied ahead, but during times of tribulation people grasped at anything to help them understand. Everyone needed reassurance.

“Wow, I never thought about it like that
,” I said.

“Yea, I guess you could say my business thrives on chaos.” Jimmy
glanced up and smiled. “I don’t mind the lull. It means times are good.”

“Are they?” I asked, cramming noodles into my mouth.

“There’s always chaos, but as a society, we’re more content than we’ve been for a while.”

“Makes sense
,” I said, sucking up a noodle. I ate too quickly and felt miserable.

“Are you content?”
he asked, picking at his food. Jimmy didn’t eat as much as me. I ate like a horse. Jimmy ate like a bird.

“
I guess,” I said, pensively.

Jimmy laughed a loud hearty laugh. “
You
are
not.”

“For the most part
,” I said.

Jimmy tapped the side of his head with his index finger.
“Do you really think you can get anything past me?” he asked. “I know why Carmen left, I know why you bought a new outfit, and I know what you want.”

Shocked and embarrassed I shouted, “How dare you mentally spy on me!” Jimmy chuckled. “It’s not funny. First, I get no privacy because my dead mom camps out
in my apartment, then my psychic friend reads my mind.”

“I don’t read your mind. You assault me with your thoughts
,” Jimmy said in his soft even tone. “You don’t realize it, but your feelings for me are like flashing neon signs on your forehead.” Jimmy stood almost knocking the chair over. “Do you know how hard it is?”

“How hard what is?” I asked. I
loved him, but because I had a mystery soul mate, Jimmy refused to have a relationship with me. It couldn’t be nearly as hard for him as it was for me.

“How hard it is to be in
love
with a woman I can’t have,” he replied. 

I
gulped. “You love me?”

“I think so; I’ve never been in love before
,” Jimmy said. “Cassie, you’re going to be with another man, and when that happens, it’s going to hurt, but not as bad as if we were more than friends.”

Jimmy said he loved me!
My stomach churned in excitement. “How do you know I’m going to stay with him? You can’t predict your own life. You told me that. So how do you know we aren’t meant to be?”

“I can’t predict my own life, that’s true, but I can see yours clearly and
I’m not the man for you.”

“Okay, so how long am I supposed to wait, six m
onths? A year? Ten Years?” I asked.

“I don’t know when you’ll meet him
,” Jimmy said.

“That’s ridiculous!” I
cried. “I could be alone for the next ten years, waiting.”

“Cassie
, I don’t think it’ll be that long.”

“But it could be
.”

“Cassie...”

“Answer me!” I smacked the table. “Could it be years before I meet this man?”

“Yes
,” he whispered. I understood his reasoning, but it was ridiculous to be alone and miserable instead of happy together.

Jimmy taught me that no one’s fate
was set in stone. “Why can’t we be together?” I asked. “How many people have changed their destiny based on your predictions?”

Jimmy paced my kitchen.
“Cassie, this is different.”

I drummed my fingers on the table
in frustration. “How?”

“I can’t keep you from being happy…truly happy…because of my own selfish needs?” He sighed
. “As you’ve pointed out, I can’t see my own destiny. What if I find my soul mate and break your heart?”

“What if you’re wrong, what if this mystery man is nothing more than a fling in the distant future
? What then?” Jimmy’s ability wasn’t an exact science and sometimes he interpreted the images wrong.

“I’m not wrong, Cassie, I feel it
,” He said.

“Just like you weren’t wrong about the Kittheridge boy?”
Low blow!
Jimmy winced.

Sometimes, Jimmy helped in police investigations under the pseudonym, Davy Tang. A year ago, the police asked Jimmy to help on a case. A little boy by the name of Carson Kittheridge disap
peared from the north side Mega-mart. Jimmy insisted that the boy was alive and inside the store. Store employees, police, and family members searched the store, but never found Carson.

A week later, a utility worker found
Carson, inside a small outbuilding behind the Mega-mart. The boy wandered into the little shed when someone left the door open. The door shut behind Carson and locked him in. Electrocuted buy a high voltage utility box, the boy died inside the shed. According to the medical examiner, Carson had been in the building several days prior to being electrocuted. It haunted Jimmy that they could have saved the boy, but he gave bad information. Jimmy misinterpreted the images and caused the search party to look inside instead of outside. Jimmy blamed himself for the boy’s death.

“I’m sorry
,” I said quickly.

“Forget it
,” he whispered. The hurt in his voice stung.
This is not what I wanted. I’m an ass!

Jimmy plopped on my couch wounded. He started channel surfing. I busied myself with the dinner mess,
and then joined Jimmy. He turned on a Bruce Willis movie, but not the new release. Jimmy played
Sixth Sense,
the movie where Bruce Willis played a child psychologist and counseled a little boy who saw spirits.
Really?

I saw
it in the theaters, before
I
could see dead people. I found it odd that Jimmy picked the movie, given my circumstances. I guess he thought I could relate. The movie had the opposite effect. It horrified me. When I watched the movie the first time, it seemed farfetched.
No one could talk to the dead
, I thought. Now, that I entertained my dead mother on a regular basis, the movie became surreal.

At the part where
the little boy met a mangled ghost, I jumped and nearly fell off the couch. “Are you alright?” Jimmy asked.

“Yeah,” I reply, but I wasn’t all right.
What if I start seeing ghosts like this?
I envisioned how Mom would look in the condition she died. Her neck bent in an unnatural position with her head hanging awkwardly to the side. I shivered at the thought. “I’m going to make some popcorn. Do you want anything?” My stomach still bulged with noodles, but I didn’t want to watch the movie.

“Can I have a beer?” Jimmy asked.

I went to the kitchen. Movie screams came from the living room. I threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and set it for five minutes. My old microwave didn’t heat up like a new one. Five minutes burnt the popcorn, but four minutes didn’t cook it long enough. I had to listen for the popping to stop.

I
retrieved a glass bowl for the popcorn and set it on the counter. I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. “Do you want a glass?” I called into the living room.

“No
,” Jimmy called back. I grabbed the beer and strolled to the living room. Luckily, the movie played at a non-ghost part.

When I set the beer on the side table, Jimmy grabbed my wrist. He pulled me into his lap. “Jimmy!”

He ran a finger along my face. “You’re right.”

“Right about what?”

“We should be together.” My heart flip-flopped.

Jimmy brought my face close to his. For a second he looked conflicted. “What the hell
,” Jimmy said, and kissed me. I sung in my head.
After four years of waiting, I’m kissing Jimmy Kim! 

Jimmy’s lips touched
me lightly, at first, but then became passionate. I tingled from my lips to my toes. Jimmy pushed me down across the couch; his lips never broke from mine.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
He positioned on top of me. My passion swelled.
Oh Yeah!
He tilted his head and froze. “What?” I asked.

“The popcorn
,” he replied. The microwave still ran, but the popcorn stopped popping.

“Leave it
,” I begged.

“It’
ll burn.” Jimmy said between short smooches, “I hate (kiss) the smell (kiss) of burnt (kiss) popcorn.”

I pouted.
“Fine.”

“I’ll be right back.” Jimmy stood.

I heard the usual sounds: the microwave opened, popcorn poured in the bowl, and then silence. Jimmy remained in the kitchen. I waited for approximately two minutes and heard nothing. “Jimmy?” I called. Nothing, then the sound of breaking glass. My stomach dropped.

“Jimmy!” I
leaped off the couch and flew to the kitchen. Popcorn and glass crunched under my feet. I found Jimmy sitting on the floor, knees bent, and rocking. “Jimmy!” I shouted. He didn’t answer. Jimmy stared at something I couldn’t see. I saw Jimmy go into a trance before, but it scared me. Pale faced and vacant, he continued rocking.

Mom materialize
d behind me. “What’s the matter with him?” She asked.

“He’s having a vision
.” I wrapped my arms around his waist. I attempted to lift Jimmy to his feet, but couldn’t budge him.

“Are you sure he’s not having a seizure?”

I pushed up frustrated. “I don’t know Mom!”
Do I look like a doctor?

I
reached for the phone, about to call 9-1-1, when Jimmy came around. He didn’t say a word. He staggered to a kitchen chair. Mom and I sat across from him. “Jimmy, dear, are you all right?” Mom asked. He didn’t answer. Jimmy breathed ragged. He inhaled and exhaled in long breaths. He called rhythmic breathing. Jimmy did it during readings and after trances.

Jimmy croaked
a single word, “Water.” I grabbed a glass, filled it with cold water, and handed it to him. He guzzled the water down without stopping to breathe. He clinked the glass on the table. “That was a bad one.”