assume this woman was anything like her unpleasant relative.
"Actually, they're more like brother and sister. They were raised together after their mothers were killed in a car wreck when they were just kids." Jazzy got out of the Jeep, then motioned to Reve. "Come on. Genny's eager to meet you."
Reluctantly, Reve emerged from the vehicle. She had tried to beg off making this trip up the mountain to meet Jazzy's best friend, but Jazzy had insisted. "I've asked her to give us a reading," Jazzy had said. "She might be able to pick up on whether or not we're twins. And if she can, I'm hoping she'll be able to help us find out what happened when we were born."
Reve was not looking forward to this visit-to becoming' $ acquainted with a backwo-ods witch. For the sake of civility, she'd do her best not to voice her opinion on people who professed to have a sixth sense. But if Genny started foretelling her future, she'd ha-ve to find a courteous way to let Genny know she wasn't interested in any predictions or prophecies.
"Come on. Don't drag your feet," Jazzy said. She reached out and grabbed Reve's arm.
"You act like you're going to m your own hanging. I promise you won't regret coming he-re with me today."
"I'll hold you to that." Reve tugged free, but let her look-alike lead the way.
Genny scurried off the porch and met them in the yard. She hugged Jazzy with great affection. "It's turned out to be 1 such a gorgeous day, I've set up apple cider and tea on the
porch. And I baked one of Granny's apple dapple cakes. I'll bring some out later."
"Genny, this is Reve Sorrell." Jazzy presented Reve as if she were introducing her to royalty. "Reve, this is my dearest friend on earth, Genny Madoc Sloan."
Reve extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sloan."
"My goodness, you two do look remarkably alike." Genny grasped Reve's hand firmly.
"Please, call me Genny." She shook Reve's hand, then held it for a brief moment.
Reve jerked her hand away.
"Sorry, I didn't mean…" Genny smiled. "Most people don't mind if I probe just a little.
And I must admit that I'm curious about you."
"Did you pick up on anything?" Jazzy asked.
Reve glared at Jazzy. She wanted to beg them not to include her in any of their forays into the psychic world, a world in which Reve did not believe.
"Only that Ms. Sorrell isn't comfortable making this visit." Genny spread her arm out in invitation. "Why don't we go sit on the porch and relax?"
Be polite, Reve told herself. Make an effort to get along with these people. "Genny, you must call me Reve. And I apologize for-"
"No need to apologize," Genny said. "You don't know me and you're skeptical. You ha-ve every right to be. I don't expect you to accept my gift of sight as a natural, God-given talent. Nor do I expect you to like me instantly just because Jazzy and I are best friends."
An odd feeling of relief eased Reve's tension. She wasn't quite sure why or how it happened. There was something strangely comforting about Genny's voice. She projected a gentleness that seemed to encompass everything around her.
Once the three were seated in big wooden rockers, Genny's chair turned so that she could face the other two, Genny asked, "Tea or cider, Reve?"
"Neither, thank you."
Genny poured hot liquid from an earthenware teapot that looked hand-painted, then ga-ve Jazzy a cup. "Well, I'm going to come right out and say it. I had a vision this morning."
Reve sighed. Here we go, she thought.
"Was it about us? About Reve and me?" Jazzy asked.
"Part of it was. The good part. The happy part."
"Tell us," Jazzy all but begged.
"I sensed laughter," Genny said. "And wonderful happiness. A oneness as if the two of you were a single entity. You are separate and yet together. Individuals, but linked from birth."
"Then you sensed that we're twins, didn't you?" Jazzy asked.
Genny smiled at her friend, but Reve picked up on something not quite right about the smile. She sensed a sadness in Genny. Stop doing
"Actually, they're more like brother and sister. They were raised together after their mothers were killed in a car wreck when they were just kids." Jazzy got out of the Jeep, then motioned to Reve. "Come on. Genny's eager to meet you."
Reluctantly, Reve emerged from the vehicle. She had tried to beg off making this trip up the mountain to meet Jazzy's best friend, but Jazzy had insisted. "I've asked her to give us a reading," Jazzy had said. "She might be able to pick up on whether or not we're twins. And if she can, I'm hoping she'll be able to help us find out what happened when we were born."
Reve was not looking forward to this visit-to becoming' $ acquainted with a backwo-ods witch. For the sake of civility, she'd do her best not to voice her opinion on people who professed to have a sixth sense. But if Genny started foretelling her future, she'd ha-ve to find a courteous way to let Genny know she wasn't interested in any predictions or prophecies.
"Come on. Don't drag your feet," Jazzy said. She reached out and grabbed Reve's arm.
"You act like you're going to m your own hanging. I promise you won't regret coming he-re with me today."
"I'll hold you to that." Reve tugged free, but let her look-alike lead the way.
Genny scurried off the porch and met them in the yard. She hugged Jazzy with great affection. "It's turned out to be 1 such a gorgeous day, I've set up apple cider and tea on the
porch. And I baked one of Granny's apple dapple cakes. I'll bring some out later."
"Genny, this is Reve Sorrell." Jazzy presented Reve as if she were introducing her to royalty. "Reve, this is my dearest friend on earth, Genny Madoc Sloan."
Reve extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sloan."
"My goodness, you two do look remarkably alike." Genny grasped Reve's hand firmly.
"Please, call me Genny." She shook Reve's hand, then held it for a brief moment.
Reve jerked her hand away.
"Sorry, I didn't mean…" Genny smiled. "Most people don't mind if I probe just a little.
And I must admit that I'm curious about you."
"Did you pick up on anything?" Jazzy asked.
Reve glared at Jazzy. She wanted to beg them not to include her in any of their forays into the psychic world, a world in which Reve did not believe.
"Only that Ms. Sorrell isn't comfortable making this visit." Genny spread her arm out in invitation. "Why don't we go sit on the porch and relax?"
Be polite, Reve told herself. Make an effort to get along with these people. "Genny, you must call me Reve. And I apologize for-"
"No need to apologize," Genny said. "You don't know me and you're skeptical. You ha-ve every right to be. I don't expect you to accept my gift of sight as a natural, God-given talent. Nor do I expect you to like me instantly just because Jazzy and I are best friends."
An odd feeling of relief eased Reve's tension. She wasn't quite sure why or how it happened. There was something strangely comforting about Genny's voice. She projected a gentleness that seemed to encompass everything around her.
Once the three were seated in big wooden rockers, Genny's chair turned so that she could face the other two, Genny asked, "Tea or cider, Reve?"
"Neither, thank you."
Genny poured hot liquid from an earthenware teapot that looked hand-painted, then ga-ve Jazzy a cup. "Well, I'm going to come right out and say it. I had a vision this morning."
Reve sighed. Here we go, she thought.
"Was it about us? About Reve and me?" Jazzy asked.
"Part of it was. The good part. The happy part."
"Tell us," Jazzy all but begged.
"I sensed laughter," Genny said. "And wonderful happiness. A oneness as if the two of you were a single entity. You are separate and yet together. Individuals, but linked from birth."
"Then you sensed that we're twins, didn't you?" Jazzy asked.
Genny smiled at her friend, but Reve picked up on something not quite right about the smile. She sensed a sadness in Genny. Stop doing
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