The Long Way Home (9 page)

Marnie looked thoughtful. “Those people staring at you in there.” She pointed. “What tipped you off? Did a spirit tell you they knew you were psychic?”

Jazzy had almost forgotten about them. Almost. “No. I have very good intuition. I think it goes along with the psychic thing. I can tell when people are lying or when they think I’m lying. I can tell when people are covering up something. And I know when they know things.”

“So if they knew, so what? What’s there to be afraid of?”

Jazzy exhaled. “I don’t know. I got this creepy feeling, like they could see me with my clothes off. Usually if people find out I’m psychic they want things from me. Or they treat me differently. I hate that.”

“You have a lot of burdens for someone your age,” Marnie said. “At this point in your life you should be carefree. Going to college or traveling. Going out with friends.”

“I’m okay,” Jazzy said. “My grandma was the same way as me. When I was growing up, she did a good job explaining all about our
special gift.
” She put the last two words in finger quotes. “Grandma died a few years ago, but I still feel her sometimes. And Dylan understands and is supportive, so that’s good.” The truth of it was, Jazzy mused, that if you had at least one person who believed in you, you could tolerate almost anything. “I just wish I knew what to do with it all. I always feel like I’m falling short somehow.”

“You’re young,” Marnie said. “You have all the time in the world.”

The door to the restaurant opened, and out came Laverne and Rita. “You gals missed one heck of a dessert,” Laverne said. “Strawberry cheesecake. The cheesecake was the baked kind and the strawberries were fresh. It was to die for.” She came up to Jazzy and patted her on the back. “You should be indulging at your age. That slim figure won’t last forever, you know. At some point you’ll have to watch your weight. Enjoy it while you can. Yep, that was a heck of a dessert.”

Behind her, Rita smiled. “I have to agree. The cheesecake was outstanding.” She pulled her car keys out of her purse. “What do you say we head to the hotel? We have a lot of driving to do tomorrow.”

Marnie couldn’t help but think that if you’d seen one Marriott Hotel, you’d seen them all. Rita expressed a preference for the chain, though, because she had some kind of rewards card thing. Funny how one person could dominate a group. Well, it was hard to be irritated with her. Rita was a true lady, one of those women who set a lovely table, did volunteer work, and talked about their church friends. The type who quietly did good work, visiting people in the hospital, going on mission trips, planting flower beds, making the world a better place. Not asking for credit or praise, or getting it, for that matter, just doing what needed to be done. Like offering to drive on this trip. That was nice of her. Marnie never would have had the guts to drive across the country on her own, but with Rita driving, and the other two women in the car for support, anything seemed possible. She’d have her own posse when she went to confront Kimberly. The thought comforted her.

The hotel’s front desk was busy tonight. When it was finally their turn, the clerk apologized for the delay, saying it was because of a wedding.

“We don’t have a reservation,” Rita said. “What is your room availability?”

Laverne nudged her way in and said, “I don’t know about you gals, but I don’t think the four of us sharing a room is gonna work.” She leaned on the counter and turned to get their reaction. None of them seemed to have thought through the sleeping arrangements ahead of time, but one by one they all agreed that four women in one room was too many. No one wanted to share a bed or wait too long for bathroom time.

When Rita suggested doubling up, Marnie quickly claimed Jazzy, leaving Rita stuck with Laverne. Even Laverne thought Rita got a raw deal. She poked her in the arm and said, “Looks like you drew the short straw! Hope you brought your earplugs. My family says I snore loud enough to wake the dead. Like a buzz saw, they say.”

Rita smiled. “Don’t worry about that. Glenn has snored for years. I’m used to it.”

Marnie and Jazzy’s room had two queen-sized beds on either side of a nightstand. The large flat-screen TV was bigger than the one Marnie had at home, but she was too tired to watch it. Jazzy was efficient in her bedtime routine, coming out of the bathroom in pink pajama bottoms and a camisole top. Marnie was suddenly embarrassed by her nightshirt with the panda on it. All of her clothing, she realized, was juvenile or old-lady-ish. When had she stopped caring how she looked?

That night as they lay in bed in the dark, Marnie couldn’t help herself. “Jazzy? Are you asleep?” Over the hum of the air-conditioner, she heard Jazzy shift under the covers.

“No, I’m still awake.”

“Can I ask you a question? About being psychic, I mean?”

“Sure.”

“If you heard from my Brian, would you tell me? Please? You’d know him, if he came through. He’s kind of a burly guy, brash, confident.” Marnie was sure Brian’s true personality would shine through even after death. Sometimes when he was alive she sensed his energy in the next room even when he was silent.

“Yes, I’d tell you. But please don’t count on it. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“No, I know. I’m not counting on anything.”

Jazzy cleared her throat. “What is it you’re hoping you’ll find out? Was there something left unsaid between the two of you?”

Marnie had to think. There really had been nothing left unsaid. First he had loved her (or seemed to), then he was distracted, and after that only intermittently affectionate. The last few years he seemed barely aware of her existence. Being ignored was the worst of all. She’d bring up the subject of his inattention, and he’d promise to do better, even meet her halfway for a time, but eventually he’d lapse again. After a while she got tired of wondering why she wasn’t good enough. All of the anger and tears never changed a thing. He was never going to change. She went through all the stages of grief, and when she got to acceptance, a few years into the relationship, it was a relief. They reached a sort of unspoken agreement and carried out their part of the bargain.

At least he was there. When she was unsure of what to do in a situation at work, or she needed to talk to someone about how to handle the landscape company’s screwup, she could always consult him. Never short of an opinion, that was Brian. And he was smart too. That’s what she’d initially admired about him. But she didn’t miss him really, just missed the way her life had been. So what was she hoping to get from Brian? She mulled it over for another second, and finally she had an answer for Jazzy. “There was nothing left unsaid, really. I would just like to know if I’m doing the right thing going out to see Troy. I need his advice.”

Jazzy said, “Oh, Marnie, you don’t need his advice. You made a decision from the heart; that should tell you you’re doing the right thing.”

Her words had a calming effect on Marnie—a verbal hug. She let out a sigh of relief. A minute before she’d been too keyed up to sleep, but now her eyelids grew heavy and she felt herself sink into the mattress. “Thanks, Jazzy. I needed to hear that.”

“Good night, Marnie.”

“Good night.”

When Laverne had fallen asleep and was snoring like a three-hundred-pound man, Rita got out of bed and fumbled her way through the dark until she found her purse next to her suitcase. In the bathroom, she turned on the light and searched for her phone so she could call Glenn. He answered after one ring, which made her smile. He’d been waiting up to hear from her.

“How’s it going, sweetie?” he asked. “Are you girls having a good time?” She could picture him on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, the remote within easy reach on the armrest, the cat curled up next to him.

Are you girls having a good time?
That’s what he’d always asked when she and Melinda used to call home from their trips. He’d either forgotten or didn’t realize. A month ago the words would have been a stab to her heart; today she let it pass. “I am having a good time,” she said, looking at her reflection in the harsh light of the bathroom and taking note of her flattened hair and the dark circles under her eyes. She looked tired, but she felt wonderful. Traveling with these three ladies was unexpectedly invigorating. “You won’t believe what happened today. One of the women I’m traveling with, that young woman named Jazzy—I told you about her? Anyway, it turns out she’s psychic.” She paused to let him digest this information. “And the most incredible thing happened. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I think, no I
know
, that I’ve received the sign I’ve been praying for.”

Even in the silence she heard his hesitation. She knew Glenn would be supportive, even if he had his doubts. By nature, he wasn’t as open-minded as she was. Still, he wanted her to be happy, and he shared her hope of finding out the truth of their daughter’s death. There would be no making sense of it; it was a senseless act. The most she could hope for was a resolution to the crime and to gain some peace for her wounded heart. Glenn wanted the same things, but he didn’t believe in signs or answers to prayers. He was practical. Things just happened. She couldn’t abide that kind of thinking, and so they agreed to disagree. But she wanted to share this with him. She needed him to see things her way, even if he didn’t agree. He must have heard the urgency in her voice because instead of trying to talk sense into her, he simply said, “Tell me about it.”

When she was done telling the story, Glenn agreed that it was odd, maybe even significant, but he wasn’t ready to say it was a sign or a miracle. “So are you going to stop at this place in Colorado, that Preston Place or whatever?”

“I’d like to,” Rita said. “But the problem is that I don’t know where it is.” She and Jazzy had tried programming it onto the GPS and looking in the atlas. No luck. There simply wasn’t a city, town, or village called Preston Place or anything resembling it in the state of Colorado. Jazzy tried looking it up on her phone, but her search came up empty.

At one point in their discussion, Laverne had perked up and asked, “What are you gals looking for?” and Rita had given Jazzy a look that said,
Let’s not tell her
. Nothing against Laverne, but Rita felt strongly that she’d been given a sign just for her and she didn’t want to share it. And the fact that it might turn out to be nothing made it too disheartening to talk about. So she made up a story to tell Laverne, said she was looking for a place she’d visited with her parents when she was a kid.

Thinking about this made her pause on the phone for so long that Glenn said, “Rita, are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

“Do you want me to do some digging online for this Preston Place? Maybe it’s a historical site or a park or something. I can look, anyway.” His suggestion made her feel better. When Glenn was on a mission, he was extremely effective. If anyone could find Preston Place, he could.

“Oh, Glenn, would you? That would be great.”

When they ended the conversation, she said, “I love you,” and he said the same, and then the only thing left was to say good-bye. After she closed the phone and snuck back to bed she felt better about the whole thing.

The next morning, during a late breakfast in the hotel restaurant, the group compared notes about the night before. “I slept better than I have in years,” Rita said, salting her eggs. The waitress walked around the table to top up the coffee cups of the three older women; Jazzy alone had opted for orange juice. “Like a rock.”

“It’s the driving,” Laverne said. “Having to be constantly on the lookout wears a person out. One of you other gals should take a turn at the wheel today.”

“I don’t mind it,” Rita said. “Really, I prefer to drive.”

They ate for a few minutes, saying nothing, but aware of conversations at the other tables in the dining room, all of them occupied by middle-aged married couples. Marnie thought back to her conversation with Jazzy. She did find Jazzy’s words reassuring but still wondered if going to Las Vegas unannounced was a good idea. Maybe she should let Troy and Kimberly know she was on her way. What if she showed up and the house was empty and they were gone? Wouldn’t she feel stupid then! And disappointed. Since they started this road trip Marnie had pulled out her cell phone a half dozen times with the intent to call, but she never went through with it. Something made her stop. It would be worse if she called and Troy told her not to come. She didn’t know if she could handle the rejection.

While Rita checked her phone for the weather forecast, and Laverne nattered about the drawbacks of sausage first thing in the morning, Marnie noticed a look of alarm cross Jazzy’s face. Under her breath, Jazzy said, “Oh no.” Marnie turned to see a woman walking determinedly into the dining room. She didn’t so much as glance at the other tables but headed straight toward them. Marnie recognized her as the red-haired woman who’d been staring at them at the restaurant the previous evening. Last night she’d been flanked by two young men. This morning she was alone.

As she approached, Marnie noted the woman’s expression of delight upon seeing Jazzy. Yesterday Marnie had gotten the impression the woman was in her fifties, but on closer inspection, she realized she was off by a decade or more. This woman moved like a younger person, but her wrinkled face gave away her age. She wore a knit tank top, a pleated knee-length skirt, and gladiator sandals. A small purse swung off a strap looped over her shoulder. The whole ensemble would have been a cute look on someone younger, preferably someone with toned upper arms.

“Excuse me, ladies,” the woman said, resting her palms on the table. Marnie couldn’t take her eyes off Jazzy, who had a trapped look in her eyes. “I hate to interrupt your meal, but I was hoping to talk to you, if you don’t mind.”

“Welcome,” Rita said, and then gesturing, “Please join us.”
Oh, Rita,
Marnie thought,
how can you be so clueless?

“Thank you,” the woman said, dragging a chair from an empty table and inserting herself between Jazzy and Rita. “I saw the four of you last night at the steak house and would have introduced myself then, but the timing didn’t seem right. I’m Scarlett Turner.” She said her name as if they would recognize it. When no one reacted, she opened her purse and pulled out business cards, then dealt them out on the table.

“Are you selling something?” Rita asked.

“Oh no, not at all,” Scarlett said. “I’m a psychic. World-renowned. Perhaps you’ve heard of my book,
Messages from Beyond
? It was a
New York Times
best seller. Thirty-two weeks on the list.”

“Hey!” Laverne snapped her fingers. “I think I read that. Did it have a tunnel and light on the cover?”

“No.”

“Never mind then. I must of been thinking of a different one.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Jazzy said, her face serious. “I’ve read your book.”

“Oh good,” Scarlett said brightly. “I was hoping that would be the case. Your name is?”

“Jazzy.”

Scarlett repeated the name. “Jazzy.” She clucked approvingly. “Very good. I like it. It conveys a certain energy.”

Breaking into the conversation, Laverne said, “I’m Laverne,” and stuck out her hand.

Scarlett politely shook it and then, peering intently at her, said, “Laverne, I’m getting that your life is on the brink of a major change. You’re going through something life-changing.”

“You got that right,” Laverne said. “This is my first time out of state.”

As Rita and Marnie each introduced themselves, Scarlett nodded in acknowledgment, but Marnie got the impression the only one she was interested in was Jazzy.

“There’s a convention here in town next weekend,” Scarlett said. “It’s a worldwide gathering of all the most talented psychics, intuitives, and mediums alive.”

“I’d hope they’re alive,” Laverne said, chuckling.

“I arrived a few days ahead of the rest,” Scarlett said, continuing, “because I’m taking part in a documentary about my work. Two photographers from the Discovery Channel have been filming me.” She looked around the table, inviting questions, but the group was silent.

“What do you want from me?” Jazzy asked, in a calm tone. The waitress came to clear plates, but Rita waved her away.

“I got a very strong vibe from you last night,” Scarlett said, smiling. “My spirit guides told me some time ago that I would meet someone who would be very important to me on this trip, someone who has a great psychic ability. I’ve been waiting patiently to meet that person.”

“And that would be me, you think?” Jazzy asked.

“Yes, I think it’s you. I think you have the talent. Or am I wrong?”

Jazzy fiddled with her napkin before looking up, her blue eyes bright. “No, you’re not wrong.”

Scarlett nodded. “Now that we’ve met, I’ll cut to the chase. I have something to offer you. I’d like to see if you’d be interested in my full-time mentorship. I can help you in a way not too many others can. It’s a unique journey you’re on. If we spend some time together, I could teach you how to refine your abilities, and how to signal the spirits so they won’t bother you when you need time to recharge.”

“Oh,” Jazzy said slowly, tucking a shining lock of blonde hair behind her ear. She looked like this was not what she’d been expecting. “So you’re offering me some kind of apprenticeship?”

Something shifted in the room. Like a telescope coming into focus, all Marnie saw was the exchange between Jazzy and Scarlett—Jazzy becoming intrigued, Scarlett holding back a little, but clearly excited to have found the person she’d been looking for.

“I’m so confused, I can’t even tell you,” Laverne said to Rita. “What in the heck are they talking about?”

Rita put a finger to her lips. “I’ll tell you later.”

Jazzy shook her head. “I think you might have mistaken me for someone else. I do have some of the tendencies you’re talking about, but not even close to what you have. And I have no control over any of it. Things just happen to me.”

“As I said, I can help you with that,” Scarlett said. “With my guidance you could reach your full potential. Believe me, you have a rare gift. This is what you should be doing with your life.”

Laverne whispered to Rita, “What should she be doing?”

Rita leaned over and softly said, “Working as a psychic.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Laverne said, sputtering. “Jazzy is a psychic? How come I didn’t know this?”

“I don’t tell too many people,” Jazzy said.

“But you two knew?” Laverne asked, pointing. Rita and Marnie both nodded. “Well, shoot, just because I’m a tagalong on this trip doesn’t mean I want to be left out of things.”

Scarlett held out a business card, which Jazzy took. “You don’t have to decide right this minute,” the older woman said. “When you’re done with your trip, give me a call and we’ll talk.”

“What would we talk about?”

“We’ll talk about what I have in mind for you.”

“Which is what?”

“You’d work as my assistant at first, traveling with me, and helping me with administrative details. In return, I’d help you develop your talents.”

“I already have a job,” Jazzy said. “I’m pretty good at it too.”

“Believe me, you’ll be better at this. And you can change people’s lives. If you accept my offer, every day from now on will be an adventure.”

“And would I have to move?”

“Where do you live now?”

“Wisconsin.”

Scarlett laughed. “Wisconsin? Yes, you’d have to move. But trust me, it won’t be a sacrifice. I promise you’ll like where I live better than Wisconsin.”

Jazzy held the business card between two fingers. “I’ll think about it. Really I will.” Then she reached out her hand. “It was nice to meet you, Scarlett Turner.” Polite, but noncommittal.

Scarlett took her hand and still grasping it said, “It was nice meeting you too. I look forward to hearing from you.” She stood up, pushed her chair away from the table, and then retraced her steps out of the restaurant.

The women silently watched her leave. “Well, that was certainly interesting,” Rita said. “I never would have seen that coming.”

“I can’t say I like that slur against Wisconsin,” Laverne said. “What’s wrong with Wisconsin?”

Jazzy looked at the card. “She’s from New York.”

“That explains it,” Rita said. “There’s a lot of East Coast elitism. They look down on the Midwest.”

Laverne snorted. “What’s there to look down on? Heck, I can think of a hundred things that are right with Wisconsin.”

“They think we’re rubes,” Rita explained. “And if we had anything going for us we’d be smart enough to live in New York.”

“So are you going to take the job?” Marnie asked Jazzy.

“I don’t know,” Jazzy said slowly. “I have mixed feelings about this. I’d like to wait and see if my grandmother has some thoughts on the subject.”

Her grandmother. That must be the dead one, Marnie thought. It must be reassuring to be able to keep a connection with loved ones even after death. If everyone could do that, there would be no atheists.

“How did that Scarlett Turner know we were on a trip?” Laverne asked.

“We’re in a hotel,” Rita said. “It only makes sense.”