7
G race decided she needed to pay a visit to her abuela.
She swiped her key fob and entered the opulent lobby of Tarker’s Tower. The harsh fluorescents aggravated her building headache the second she removed her sunglasses.
The most recent renovation of the former hotel had been planned by a new board member from out of town. Gone was the Quaker simplicity of dark hallways and plain blue rugs. Now the condominium’s foyer was choked in Oriental carpets and gilt framed prints.
Grace caught a glimpse of her face in a particularly gothic looking mirror as she pushed the button to call the elevator. Having Asian features sometimes helped her mask her emotions from strangers - but she easily saw the anguish in her own eyes and she knew Abuela would see it too.
What had happened with Julian? Why couldn’t she get him out of her head?
Had he put a charm on her? It had looked like he was as shocked as she was.
A delicious wave of excitement washed over her as she pictured him again, his thin lips parted, a look of wonder in his clear blue eyes.
The ding of the elevator brought her back to the present. Minna Randolf exited with a flourish, pulling her grocery cart behind her.
“Grace Cortez!” Minna bellowed, as usual ignoring Grace’s hyphenated last name.
Minna was on the record as opposing the Cortez family’s adding the Kwan to Grace’s name to honor her Chinese birth mother. Minna thought it was too much dwelling on the past and what was she supposed to do with all those last names when she got married anyway?
Grace was pretty sure it wouldn’t become an issue if her future love life went the way her current one was going.
“Hi, Mrs. Randolf!”
“Hello, Grace! Have a good visit. They don’t have the heat on yet, so it’s too cold up there, as usual.”
Grace smiled her thanks to Minna as she got on the elevator. Minna was always concerned that the heat wasn’t turned on in the building until October. She was so well padded both by her ample curves and by her fluffy sweaters that it was a wonder she wasn’t impervious to the cold.
“Nieta!” Abuela exclaimed as soon as the elevator doors opened. She liked to prop open the door to her condo to get a breeze and as a result, she’d heard the elevator ding Grace’s arrival.
Grace wondered how the neighbors felt about the scent of the black beans in the slow cooker filling the hallways through Abuela’s open door. But they never complained. And Abuela herself wasn’t one to worry.
“So what brings you here for lunch?”
Abuela didn’t wait for an answer, but began pulling bowls out of the cupboard. Like Grace, she was short, so she had to reach high above her head.
Grace took a seat at the small table by the sliders leading out to the balcony. Abuela’s unit was not in the fanciest section of the building, but it did have a nice view of the hillside facing the college woods. You could just see the creek bending on its way out of Sycamore Woods. One day, when the highway was built, Abuela wouldn’t want these doors open anymore because they would let in the traffic noise.
“It’s about work, Abuela. I told you about Sadie-”
“-A shame too!-”
“-But I didn’t tell you everything.”
“Mm.”
Abuela always knew when Grace was hiding the truth.
“Something very bad was going on in that house,” Grace said.
“Did you use your gift?”
“I tried.”
“And?”
“When I touched her hand I got hit with something. It felt like a shockwave of…static or something.”
“Mm.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s possible that someone didn’t want anyone snooping.”
“Can you just erase something like that?” Grace asked.
“You can’t remove the psychic impressions, but someone could have muddied the picture with feedback or static. The way you might drown out car noise by turning up the radio. The noise is still there, it’s just too hard to hear it over all the racket.”
Grace nodded and then winced in pain.
G race decided she needed to pay a visit to her abuela.
She swiped her key fob and entered the opulent lobby of Tarker’s Tower. The harsh fluorescents aggravated her building headache the second she removed her sunglasses.
The most recent renovation of the former hotel had been planned by a new board member from out of town. Gone was the Quaker simplicity of dark hallways and plain blue rugs. Now the condominium’s foyer was choked in Oriental carpets and gilt framed prints.
Grace caught a glimpse of her face in a particularly gothic looking mirror as she pushed the button to call the elevator. Having Asian features sometimes helped her mask her emotions from strangers - but she easily saw the anguish in her own eyes and she knew Abuela would see it too.
What had happened with Julian? Why couldn’t she get him out of her head?
Had he put a charm on her? It had looked like he was as shocked as she was.
A delicious wave of excitement washed over her as she pictured him again, his thin lips parted, a look of wonder in his clear blue eyes.
The ding of the elevator brought her back to the present. Minna Randolf exited with a flourish, pulling her grocery cart behind her.
“Grace Cortez!” Minna bellowed, as usual ignoring Grace’s hyphenated last name.
Minna was on the record as opposing the Cortez family’s adding the Kwan to Grace’s name to honor her Chinese birth mother. Minna thought it was too much dwelling on the past and what was she supposed to do with all those last names when she got married anyway?
Grace was pretty sure it wouldn’t become an issue if her future love life went the way her current one was going.
“Hi, Mrs. Randolf!”
“Hello, Grace! Have a good visit. They don’t have the heat on yet, so it’s too cold up there, as usual.”
Grace smiled her thanks to Minna as she got on the elevator. Minna was always concerned that the heat wasn’t turned on in the building until October. She was so well padded both by her ample curves and by her fluffy sweaters that it was a wonder she wasn’t impervious to the cold.
“Nieta!” Abuela exclaimed as soon as the elevator doors opened. She liked to prop open the door to her condo to get a breeze and as a result, she’d heard the elevator ding Grace’s arrival.
Grace wondered how the neighbors felt about the scent of the black beans in the slow cooker filling the hallways through Abuela’s open door. But they never complained. And Abuela herself wasn’t one to worry.
“So what brings you here for lunch?”
Abuela didn’t wait for an answer, but began pulling bowls out of the cupboard. Like Grace, she was short, so she had to reach high above her head.
Grace took a seat at the small table by the sliders leading out to the balcony. Abuela’s unit was not in the fanciest section of the building, but it did have a nice view of the hillside facing the college woods. You could just see the creek bending on its way out of Sycamore Woods. One day, when the highway was built, Abuela wouldn’t want these doors open anymore because they would let in the traffic noise.
“It’s about work, Abuela. I told you about Sadie-”
“-A shame too!-”
“-But I didn’t tell you everything.”
“Mm.”
Abuela always knew when Grace was hiding the truth.
“Something very bad was going on in that house,” Grace said.
“Did you use your gift?”
“I tried.”
“And?”
“When I touched her hand I got hit with something. It felt like a shockwave of…static or something.”
“Mm.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s possible that someone didn’t want anyone snooping.”
“Can you just erase something like that?” Grace asked.
“You can’t remove the psychic impressions, but someone could have muddied the picture with feedback or static. The way you might drown out car noise by turning up the radio. The noise is still there, it’s just too hard to hear it over all the racket.”
Grace nodded and then winced in pain.
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