want to see if she’s legit.”
“Jeannie said she was,” I pointed out. “I don’t think she’d send me to a hack.”
“Still, it will be interesting to see what she knows, right?”
I nodded and pushed the door open. Ava followed me in and it was clear that Madam Rosemarie, or Nina, wanted to present the stereotypical psychic parlor. The scent of incense and mystical music assaulted my senses. I took in the heavy batik fabric draped across the walls and colorful jars and crystals that lined the long row of shelves against the walls. We stepped up to the counter, which doubled as a display case for handmade jewelry.
“Wow,” Ava mouthed, absorbing everything in the room. I touched a shiny dragonfly orb hanging over our heads with my finger, it bobbed back and forth.
“I’ll be right out,” a voice called.
I noticed a sign on the counter that said, “Savannah Ghost Tours,” with a list of prices.
“I could make a fortune off of that,” I snorted.
“Be cool,” Ava told me, unnecessarily. I lied every day of my life. I should be able to handle a psychic. Unless, of course, she’s real. Then I’m screwed.
The curtain separating our room from another was pushed aside and a woman with curly red hair stepped out. Real red, not from the bottle. Despite the cliché parlor, she’s got a much hipper look, a grey long-sleeved T-shirt and black jeans. She’s pretty and a little younger than Jeannie. I wonder if they met at some sort of psychic convention or something. Do they have those?
“Hi, what can I do for you today?”
“We wanted to ask about getting a reading – like palm or cards or something.”
“A basic palm reading is $28. Cards are $15. I can do both for $40.” She looked at Ava expectantly, but I noticed her eyes narrowing slightly when she looked at me. “Love problems?”
“No,” I said.
“Who doesn’t have love problems?” Ava said, nudging me forward. “Rachel has had some drama lately and really needs insight.”
I shoot daggers at Ava for tossing me under the cosmic bus, but I smiled nicely at Rosemarie. She grinned in return. Whatever. “Do you take debit cards?”
“Yep. You want to me to do it alone or are you okay if your friend watches?”
“She can watch,” I said, like I had any choice. “Just a palm reading. I’ll do the cards another day.”
We moved across the room to a cushy, red velvet couch. Ava and I sat next to one another while Rosemarie sat across from us in a black wicker chair.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” she said, holding her hand out. Reluctantly, I placed mine into hers. Jeannie had read my palm a dozen times. If this woman was real, then exposing myself to her could be dangerous.
She started off with the basics, pointing out the lines on my hand. All standard stuff anyone can do. Her hands felt cool and soft and I found myself lulled by her words and the stuffy, perfumed room.
“You’re very talented. Very creative. You’ll do well in art school.” Picking up on my art school status was pretty easy, it wasn’t like she needed a gift to figure that out. Pretty much every college-age kid in town went to SCAD. “You have a strong connection to your family.” She smiled.
“Yeah,” I said, remaining neutral.
She moved her fingers across my palm. “This line here suggests that you’ve seen a fair amount of sadness in your life?” It was a question not a statement.
I gave a short nod and Rosemarie continued. “And loss. You’ve lost several people… but,” she paused and frowned, “not people close to you.”
She looked up from my hand and studied me again. I shifted my eyes to the table, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. “Darkness follows you for sure, but I’m seeing some other things…” she narrowed her eyes. “There’s a double ring – no triple, around your aura. It’s so strong. Not everyone has a strong aura and I can’t always read it, but yours is off the charts.”
“What’s the triple
“Jeannie said she was,” I pointed out. “I don’t think she’d send me to a hack.”
“Still, it will be interesting to see what she knows, right?”
I nodded and pushed the door open. Ava followed me in and it was clear that Madam Rosemarie, or Nina, wanted to present the stereotypical psychic parlor. The scent of incense and mystical music assaulted my senses. I took in the heavy batik fabric draped across the walls and colorful jars and crystals that lined the long row of shelves against the walls. We stepped up to the counter, which doubled as a display case for handmade jewelry.
“Wow,” Ava mouthed, absorbing everything in the room. I touched a shiny dragonfly orb hanging over our heads with my finger, it bobbed back and forth.
“I’ll be right out,” a voice called.
I noticed a sign on the counter that said, “Savannah Ghost Tours,” with a list of prices.
“I could make a fortune off of that,” I snorted.
“Be cool,” Ava told me, unnecessarily. I lied every day of my life. I should be able to handle a psychic. Unless, of course, she’s real. Then I’m screwed.
The curtain separating our room from another was pushed aside and a woman with curly red hair stepped out. Real red, not from the bottle. Despite the cliché parlor, she’s got a much hipper look, a grey long-sleeved T-shirt and black jeans. She’s pretty and a little younger than Jeannie. I wonder if they met at some sort of psychic convention or something. Do they have those?
“Hi, what can I do for you today?”
“We wanted to ask about getting a reading – like palm or cards or something.”
“A basic palm reading is $28. Cards are $15. I can do both for $40.” She looked at Ava expectantly, but I noticed her eyes narrowing slightly when she looked at me. “Love problems?”
“No,” I said.
“Who doesn’t have love problems?” Ava said, nudging me forward. “Rachel has had some drama lately and really needs insight.”
I shoot daggers at Ava for tossing me under the cosmic bus, but I smiled nicely at Rosemarie. She grinned in return. Whatever. “Do you take debit cards?”
“Yep. You want to me to do it alone or are you okay if your friend watches?”
“She can watch,” I said, like I had any choice. “Just a palm reading. I’ll do the cards another day.”
We moved across the room to a cushy, red velvet couch. Ava and I sat next to one another while Rosemarie sat across from us in a black wicker chair.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” she said, holding her hand out. Reluctantly, I placed mine into hers. Jeannie had read my palm a dozen times. If this woman was real, then exposing myself to her could be dangerous.
She started off with the basics, pointing out the lines on my hand. All standard stuff anyone can do. Her hands felt cool and soft and I found myself lulled by her words and the stuffy, perfumed room.
“You’re very talented. Very creative. You’ll do well in art school.” Picking up on my art school status was pretty easy, it wasn’t like she needed a gift to figure that out. Pretty much every college-age kid in town went to SCAD. “You have a strong connection to your family.” She smiled.
“Yeah,” I said, remaining neutral.
She moved her fingers across my palm. “This line here suggests that you’ve seen a fair amount of sadness in your life?” It was a question not a statement.
I gave a short nod and Rosemarie continued. “And loss. You’ve lost several people… but,” she paused and frowned, “not people close to you.”
She looked up from my hand and studied me again. I shifted my eyes to the table, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. “Darkness follows you for sure, but I’m seeing some other things…” she narrowed her eyes. “There’s a double ring – no triple, around your aura. It’s so strong. Not everyone has a strong aura and I can’t always read it, but yours is off the charts.”
“What’s the triple
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