Page 5

CHAPTER FIVE

After John left, I felt wrung out. I returned to my desk and stared at the receipt for his reading, wondering just how many of these sad tales I could handle. It seemed like every other reading involved someone looking for peace of mind. I wasn’t sure I was up for the job.

I glanced around the shop.

Even though I knew it was pie-in-the-sky, I had envisioned a line of clients eager for love, all hoping to start a new adventure in their lives.

In reality, I’d had one client for my matchmaking services, and then, Zandre scheduled. In the space of a month, I’d gone from being excited and enthusiastic to feeling like I was failing. I knew it was early to feel that way. All businesses took time to build. But I kind of felt like a giant going out of business sign was hanging over my head.

A glance at the clock showed that it was one-fifteen, and I decided to take a break. I didn’t feel like sitting here in an empty shop until Nightshade arrived.

I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed out, locking the door behind me. Once outside, the rain made me even more depressed. I loved the rain, but my spirits were about as gloomy as the sky. I thought about heading over to the Mocha Express to drown my sorrows in caffeine, but I didn’t want to bring Crystal down, and there was no way I could disguise how I felt. So, I slid into my new car, fastened my seatbelt, and decided to go for a drive.

* * *

Midnight Point—the island—wasn’t that big, but it had a sizable area of woodlands surrounding the town. I decided to drive up to Moonrise Preserve. A nature preserve, it was filled with thickets, walkways, some wetlands, and a large community berry picking spot—you paid a certain amount per pound of blueberries that you picked. It was only about a fifteen-minute drive from town, but by the time I got there, the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. Grateful for small blessings, I parked in the lot, put my wallet, phone, and keys in my pocket, slid my purse under the seat, and locked the car.

There were only two other cars in the lot, and I took a careful look at them. Even though Midnight Point seemed fairly safe, I had developed habits in Seattle that I wasn’t about to let go of. Safety first, especially for women.

The reception booth was closed except for the restrooms, given it wasn’t anywhere near berry season. Self-guided tour booklets were available on a magazine rack on the wall, and I took one. Moonrise Preserve had been around when I was little, but the last time I was here was when I was fourteen. A number of things had changed, but I had pleasant memories of picking berries under a warm July sun.

I glanced at the pamphlet. There were four main trails through the preserve. One was a half-hour walking loop, with a labyrinth in the middle. That took another fifteen or twenty minutes. The other three hikes ran from ten to fifteen minutes.

I glanced at the sky. The clouds were churning around the edges, though the sun might manage to hold out for another half hour. I decided on the fifteen-minute hike, called the Fern Valley Path. It led through the wetlands, which included a small pond.

“Okay, let’s see if this helps me make sense of my thoughts,” I whispered to myself as I set foot on the wooden walkway and headed into the thicket of marshy bogland.

As I wandered along the slatted walkway, which was raised just above the marshy bog, I paused and closed my eyes, letting the crisp breeze wash over me. It was chilly, but it felt cleansing, and I let out a breath and relaxed.

The silence was suddenly filled with noises that I hadn’t even noticed. The whirring of spring bugs, the sound of the wind, the ripple of little pools in the wetlands…each sound soothed my heart a little more. Finally, I opened my eyes and continued on, running my fingers gently along the wooden railing.

My thoughts returning to my disappointment, I wondered what I had expected, really? That I’d ride into town, make a big splash, create wedding after wedding? Even though I felt reluctant to admit it, the truth was that I wanted to matter. I wanted to make a difference in people’s lives.

“You’re impatient,” I whispered. “You expect too much, too fast.” But I quieted down as I noticed a woman coming my way from the opposite direction.

As she neared where I was standing, I first noticed that she was dressed in a yellow gingham sundress with a pair of floral rain boots on, and a matching rain jacket and bonnet. She looked like a ray of spring in the middle of the gloom, and her long copper hair gleamed, perfectly straight. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties, and she had a tote bag over her shoulder. She paused as she saw me and smiled, her face blooming.

“Hello,” she said, her voice so lyrical she sounded like she was singing. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

I hadn’t been thinking that it was so pretty, but the moment she said it, I looked around and yes, it did seem like a lovely day—rainclouds and all.

“I guess it is,” I said.

She leaned against the railing. “I come here a lot. I love walking through the trails.”

“It is peaceful. I haven’t been here in years,” I said, my shoulders relaxing for the first time in a while. “I’m Maisy…Maisy Tripwater.”

“Well, hello, Maisy Tripwater,” she said. “I’m Ginger Lily.” She looked at me, then reached in her pocket and pulled out an orange. “Walking out here always makes me hungry. Would you like to share my orange?” She began peeling it, tossing the peels out in the middle of the marsh. “Food for the animals,” she added.

I smiled. Her enthusiasm was infectious. “Well…thank you. I wouldn’t mind a slice.” My stomach rumbled. “I guess I’m hungry, too.”

She handed me half of the orange. “Please, take it.”

I accepted, watching as she bit into her half. I took a bite and closed my eyes. It was one of the sweetest, tastiest oranges I’d had in years. “This is so good. Where did you get it?”

Ginger winked. “The store. So, you’re one of the few to brave the weather for a walk here.”

“I’ve had a lot to think about lately,” I said, suddenly feeling like I could open up to her. I didn’t talk about my private life much, and certainly not with strangers, but she didn’t feel like a stranger at all. “I just opened a business and it’s not doing as well as I hoped.”

“I’m sorry you’re disappointed. How long since you opened it?”

“A month…well, three weeks. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I’m impatient, I guess.” I paused, then added, “You don’t need to hear me whining. I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s a beautiful day, so we should enjoy it.”

Ginger paused, then said, “You have to feel what you feel. That’s the only way you can work through it.”

I suddenly realized that I was telling a stranger my personal business. I blushed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to dump my worries on you.”

She smiled. “I’m used to it. I’m Fae, and I’m what’s known as a listener . We draw out strong emotions from others just by our proximity.”

I froze. She was one of the Fae ? I scrambled, trying to remember if I’d said “Thank you” to her—a massive mistake both humans and Otherkin alike made.

Ginger must have seen the fear in my eyes because she placed a light hand on my arm, then withdrew it. “Don’t worry. You didn’t thank me for the orange. Besides, since I live among humans, I’ve taken an oath to not hold those who thank me to debt.”

The Fae considered a thanks as a binding contract, indicating that you owed them a debt because they had done something kind for you. To live among society, the government required the Fae to swear to an oath that they would never hold anyone to a contract simply for a “thank you.” A very few accepted those terms, like Bealissa, who was a member of the city council, a liaison between the Fae and the people of Midnight Point.

Relaxing, I gave her a hesitant smile. “I’ve never met a member of the Fae until last month, when I met Bealissa.” I paused, stopping myself before I asked if Ginger knew her. It was just rude to assume that all members of a minority group knew each other.

“We don’t usually interact with society, but I like being on the forefront of things, and eventually, we’re all going to have to work together. Since I’m a nontraditionalist within my people, I decided to take the first step and help pave the way.” She shrugged, still smiling. “I like you. I can feel emotions, and I can see auras.”

“I can feel emotions, too. I’m a priestess of Aphrodite, and it’s really exacerbated that ability. I’m a matchmaker.” I told her about my business. “That’s why I’ve been so down in the dumps. I’ve had a lot of readings, but only one client so far. She found her match because of me, but it was in an offhand way. Not through my efforts at all. I do have another client coming in tomorrow night, but…”

Ginger clapped her hands. She was incredibly perky, but I didn’t find it annoying. She seemed genuinely happy. “Oh, don’t quit. Don’t be upset. It takes time to build the business you want. And businesses have to grow and evolve, like children. If you just wanted to make money fast, you wouldn’t be helping the people who need your help. They need to find their way to you. And a priestess of Aphrodite? That’s perfect!”

I made a snap decision right there. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee and some lunch? I’m hungry.”

She glanced at the sky. “I think that would be lovely. Where do you want to meet?”

“What kind of food do you like?” I had no idea if she was vegetarian, a health-food nut, or what. I didn’t want to offend her by suggesting a place that might go against her grain.

She thought for a moment. “How about Chicken Jim’s?”

Chicken Jim’s was a local chicken joint. They had an eat-in area and made the best fried chicken in town. I had been there once or twice since I returned to Midnight Point, and I hadn’t been disappointed. They made crap coffee, though.

“I’m going to stop at an espresso stand first, but yes. How about we meet there in twenty minutes?” I asked.

She nodded. “True, their coffee sucks. All right. I’ll see you there in twenty minutes or so.”

As we headed back to the parking lot, it occurred to me that sometimes a good walk was just what you needed, and you never knew where it would lead.

* * *

Ginger was waiting in the restaurant when I pulled in. She had a large iced coffee in hand, and she waved as I walked through the door. I headed over to the booth and slid in opposite her, carrying my own triple-shot mocha. A number of the customers were looking at her. That was probably a common occurrence. It was hard to not notice her—she practically glowed.

“Do you mind that they stare at you?”

A few of the men were staring with open lust, but most of the gawkers simply watched her, and I detected a hint of wistfulness in their looks.

Ginger shrugged. “It’s part of life. The Fae always stand out. And given my nature, I appeal to people who are lonely, or who need a bright spot in their day. That’s what I do, actually. I call it listening therapy . People book time with me to talk. Now and then I’ll suggest that they see a therapist, and they sign a waiver that stipulates if they tell me they committed a crime, I can—and probably will—tell the police. But most people just want someone to talk to, especially if they don’t want to burden their friends or family.”

“A paid friend?”

“A paid companion, I suppose. I do have several regular clients, but the majority come in once or twice, and when they’ve got their feelings off their chests, they move on.” She paused as the waitress came up. You could either eat in, or order takeout.

“I’ll have the three-piece chicken and tots,” I said.

“A fried chicken sandwich,” Ginger said. “Heavy on the tomatoes and light on the sauce.”

The waitress nodded. “Drinks—” She stopped as she noticed our coffee cups, then grinned. “I keep telling the boss we need to get a better coffee maker,” she said, laughing. “Water?”

I nodded. “Please.”

As she moved away, I turned back to Ginger. “So, how do you make a living if people only come in once or twice?”

“I also sell vegetables, eggs, and honey at the farmers market. Vegetables in the spring and summer, honey year round, eggs year round. I have a small homestead on the edge of town, with an acre. I keep beehives, and my vegetable patch is a set of terraced beds. I mostly grow tomatoes and herbs. I also have several apple trees and I sell apples in the autumn. It’s a simple living, but it works.”

“That sounds nice,” I said. “A lot of work, though.”

“It is a lot of work, but I’m happy with my life.” She took a sip of her coffee. “You love matching up people, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I actually don’t mind the readings I give, either, but so many of the people coming in are looking for something to help them through trauma. Somehow, I attract those who need emotional support.”

“In a way, you’re a little like me. I’ll bet you anything that it’s your connection to Aphrodite that’s setting you up for them. Maybe you should ask her about all of this. About why you don’t have more clients looking for love.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Tell you what, we can help each other. I can recommend some of my clients visit you, if I think they need a reading or if they’re looking for someone with whom to share their life.”

Perking up, I nodded. “And I can recommend they visit you, if they seem to need someone to talk to. I like that. Do you have any business cards?”

She opened her purse and brought out a beautiful case, then opened it and handed me a stack of ten cards. “I can get you more, if this works out. And you?”

I took the cards, which had a border of hydrangeas, with her name, phone, and the tag line of I’m here to listen on it. “These are lovely,” I said, opening my own purse. In contrast, my business card holder was a smooth silver with embossed corners. I handed her a stack of my own cards. They were a pale pink, with green floral edges that came together in the top center to form a heart made of vines.

At that moment, the waitress brought our food and water. She deposited it on the table, along with the check. “If you need anything else, just let me know,” she said.

We dove into our food, and began the process of getting to know one another, with all the requisite questions about interests, favorite foods, books, and shows, and all those other personal facts that wove together to create a new friendship.