Page 10
Story: 40 Ways to Tell a Lie
I smiled at him again. “As I said, we have nothing to declare today.”
Before he could implode and demand I answer with a yes or a no, Fiona leaned over my lap and flashed her cleavage at him. “My mother thinks it’s amusing to be asked these sorts of questions. Trust me—Mom’s so straight, she makes a ruler look crooked.”
The man offered Fiona a big smile. “Are you straight?”
His eyes remained glued to Fiona’s cleavage while he spoke to her. Somehow my daughter adeptly ignored that fact. I wondered how much older she would get before she became less tolerant of that much maleness.
Then I remembered the bold guy I’d flirted with in the hotel bar the day I got released from prison. I suppose some of us kept an appreciation for such blatant male admiration. At least with those sorts of men, ya didn’t have to guess what they were thinking.
“I’m completely straight, but I’m dating someone. Thanks for asking, though,” she said with a small, fake smile.
I wanted to laugh at Fiona’s strategic flirting, but I could tell my daughter was not in the mood for me to disrupt her efforts to get us back on track. If I upset my daughter too much now, the trip back to Salem would be a very long and silent one.
“I’m sorry,” I said, smiling at the man. “Ya’re welcome to search my purse if ya like. I may have some headache pills in there, but I left my weed at home.”
He looked beyond my smirk to Fiona. “My mother is just as bad,” he said to her, waving us on.
“Blessed be,” I called out, waving back as I pulled through the checkpoint.
While Fiona righted herself, I grinned and followed the drive deeper into the beautiful landscape. Two full minutes passed before we saw a sign pointing the way to the temple. When we arrived, the building looked no bigger than the house I was currently renting. Its didn’t seem to merit paying a gate guard.
Despite its less-than-impressive size, the design on the front was ornate and highly carved. There was a definite Asian theme going on, but I couldn’t tell if it was Chinese, Japanese, or some Polynesian culture. Mulan was Chinese, but I only knew that because she told me.
What didn’t surprise me was that this was where she’d retreated to after her mysterious blow-up with Conn. Two large stone turtles flanked the entrance with flowers growing out of their shells. It looked exactly like a place a turtle loving Wu Shaman would go.
A woman inside the door greeted us. She was dressed in similar clothing to the gate guard. I might have thought pink and purple were the color theme, but the walls were all painted a very neutral white with only black trim to accent. The only color in the place seemed to be the bright uniforms.
“Welcome to Abundant Life Temple. How may I help you today?”
“We’re here to see...” I paused as I realized I didn’t know Mulan’s last name.
“We’re here to see the Wu Shaman,” Fiona said before I could.
“You will probably find Mulan in the meditation garden. You can visit with her there, but we ask that you moderate your voice out of consideration for others who might be meditating.”
I snorted and wondered if I looked like someone who yelled a lot.
“Yes, you look like someone who yells a lot,” Fiona said from beside me.
I stared at my daughter. “Am I speaking my thoughts aloud?”
“No, but I know what that snort of yours means, Mom. Everyone who knows you knows.”
Being that much of an open book was news to me, but I let it go.
We followed a paver walkway that veered off to let us stroll through lush gardens. Under a cherry blossom tree, Mulan said on a stone bench in her blood-stained training clothes. She rose and forced a smile to her face as we approached.
I held up both hands. “Sorry to be scrying for ya, but I got worried.”
Hanging her head, she nodded. “Each day, I planned to text you. Each day, I changed my mind. I have no other excuse.”
“Ya don’t need any excuse for needing time alone,” I said, smiling at her. It bothered me that she wouldn’t hold my gaze. “I dropped by the shop to check on ya, and they said ya hadn’t been in for a while. I just wanted to know if ya were still breathing. It never dawned on me that talking to Conn would send ya looking for someone to beat the crap out of ya.”
She released a long-suffering sigh but let me keep talking.
“Yer business is surviving. If ya want, I can take a message back when we leave.”
“I will be returning soon. My teacher cannot stay longer. He must return to his work.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 10 (Reading here)
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