Page 95 of The Unraveling of Julia

“Maybe in Italy? I have Italian blood.”

“It’s quite possible, but I’ll move on to my next point, as time is short. Do you remember that I was going to arrange for you to consult a medium?”

Whoa.“Yes.”

“If you’re available, she can see you at four o’clock today.”

An hour later, Julia and Courtney had showered, changed, and were leaving the house. They were going to Florence together, but Julia was going to the medium while Courtney went sightseeing.

Julia petted Bianco goodbye in the entrance hall. “Be a good boy,” she said, then locked up with Courtney behind her.

The Ferrari awaited in the driveway.

Courtney held out her hand. “Gimme the keys.”

52

Julia felt nervous, having never visited a medium. She entered the tiled entrance hall of a lovely Florentine home, evidently converted to apartments, and pressed the intercom button underH. DAVENPORT. “Hello, it’s Julia Pritzker.”

“Hello, it’s Helen, come right up,” a woman answered, with an Irish lilt. The door buzzed, and Julia went inside and climbed a carpeted stairway to the second floor. She arrived at the landing, and the apartment door was opened by a petite, attractive older woman, with a sleek white bob and hazel eyes set close together over a nose that was small and fine. She had thin lips, and her mouth curved into a slight smile. She was fashionably dressed in a black turtleneck, leggings, and ballet flats, and she looked fairly normal, for a medium.

“Nice to meet you.” Julia extended a hand, and Helen shook it, her grip firm.

“Please come in.” Helen turned, and Julia followed her into the apartment, surprised by the decor, too. She’d been expecting incense and crystals, but this was minimalist chic, Japanese-influenced. There was a dark sectional sofa with a teak lattice table on a sisal rug. Thewhite walls were hung with large-scale modern art with thick brushstrokes. Three windows spanned the back wall, letting in plenty of light.

“What a lovely apartment.” Julia realized she had no idea how to make small talk with a medium.Small, medium, or large talk?

“Thank you. Would you like tea or something else to drink?”

“Water, please.”

“Please sit down. I’ll be right back.” Helen left for a kitchen off to the side, so Julia sat, brushing down her blazer, hoping she was dressed appropriately for the spirits.

“Here we are.” Helen returned with handblown glasses of water and set them down, then took a seat to Julia’s right, perching on the front of the sofa. “Have you been to a medium before?”

“No.”

“First, I will tell you what I tell all my clients. I invite the souls who will come and speak to us, but it is only an invitation. There’s no guarantee any souls will come forward, and I may not be able to reach anybody. It’s not a telephone you pick up and expect someone to answer.”

“Of course not,” Julia said, but that was exactly what she’d thought.

“Poppy tells me you’re an adoptee seeking her birth family and that you’ve been having some experiences that you can’t quite explain.”

“Yes, I’d be happy to fill you in.” Julia organized her thoughts, since she had so much to tell in an hour, like in therapy. “I’ve been having strange experiences, like I think I saw Caterina Sforza and she showed me a—”

“Please, stop.” Helen raised a delicate hand, her fingers manicured. “I’d rather you didn’t say more. I’d prefer not to have foreknowledge.”

Oops.“Okay. I brought some things that might help you contact people, like hair, passports, and some photos—”

“No artifacts, either. Thank you.”

“Okay.” Julia clammed up. She was flunking her session.

“Before we begin, Poppy shared with me that you recently lost your husband.” Helen’s expression softened to gentle lines, bracketing a new downturn in her mouth. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Julia’s chest tightened, a griefburst.

“There is a possibility your husband may come forward to speak with you. There is also a possibility he may not. How do you feel about that?”