away.
Lorna sagged ever so slightly against the door, and watched as Maria Grazia sat Annabelle down on the miniature leather couch. She strode to her desk, a small but perfectly formed Phillipe Starck knock-off, and sat. She immediately clicked into her email, and proceeded to winnow.
“I need a minute to go through these. Anna, can you put the oddness on hold?”
“I’m not odd.” Annabelle jumped off the couch and went to lean against the single window. “By the way, the feng shui of this entire floor is a disaster.”
Lorna looked at Maria Grazia. Maria Grazia looked at Lorna. Neither of them knew where to start. Annabelle sank onto the floor between the desk and the couch, her right hand in her right pocket. She seemed lost in thought, or as Maria Grazia thought, just lost. She started stroking her friend’s hair, both as a soothing gesture and a means of making her look less crazy.
“Hey, Belle? Take some of those deep breaths you’re always recommending, okay? So, what’s up?”
Lorna set aside her wireless mouse. “Now, Annabelle — ”
“Sorry about lunch.” Annabelle looked up at Lorna. “Sorry.”
“I got over it,” she replied lightly, and leaned forward in what she thought was a firm, yet non-confrontational manner.
Maria Grazia continued to stroke Annabelle’s hair. “Honey, I don’t think we really understood what … delayed you. You were pretty upset and we didn’t really make out what you were trying to tell us.”
Annabelle took a deep breath. “I mailed my manuscript off from the post office on Eighth. It’s got good vibes in there, and I feel like it’s safer, like it’ll get where it’s supposed to go.” Lorna rolled her eyes discreetly as Annabelle plowed on. “I started walking, and I saw this shop, a new age-y kind of place. I’d never seen it before, so I went in.” She took a sip of water, and said, almost dreamily, “Can I have some tea? She gave me tea.”
“She?” Maria Grazia prodded gently when Annabelle didn’t continue.
“The woman. Irish, I think, she sounded Irish, she gave me tea, and she had this deck of cards on a table, and there were like pictures of my life on them or something — ” Lorna’s eyes clashed with Maria Grazia’s, who made a
shut up
face at her. “Then we sat down and she started channeling or something and all the candles went out and there was this huge cloud of smoke from the incense and it felt like we were floating and, and, and then it was over and this … this nut hit me on the head.”
Annabelle took her hand out of her pocket and held out the hazelnut. Maria Grazia and Lorna both leaned forward. They all looked at it in silence.
It lay there.
“Good
Lord
,” huffed Lorna.
“It’s a hazelnut,” said Annabelle.
“Uh huh,” said Maria Grazia calmly, while wondering if anybody she knew had a shrink who would do a drive-by.
“This nut hit you on the head,” said Lorna.
“Yes.” Annabelle nodded avidly.
“From out of nowhere.”
“Yes.”
“And this … woman. She wasn’t surprised or shocked or anything.”
“She said, ‘Well, there you are.’”
“Did she say what it was, or maybe what she thought you should do with it, or if it was a … special hazelnut?” Maria Grazia applauded herself silently on her aplomb, as years of dealing with loony relatives paid off at that very moment.
“I’d say any hazelnut that dropped out of thin air had to be pretty ‘special’.” Lorna’s voice dripped with frosty sarcasm. “I’d say that any kind of Celtic medium or whatever that could conjure up a magical nut has to be rather
bloody
talented — ”
“Could you maybe
not
be such a snot for a second?” Annabelle snapped, and Lorna gaped. Not like Anna to snap. Not like Anna at all. “I know you don’t believe in my spiritual pursuits and that you think I’m a wacko, but quite frankly, I don’t believe in any of
this
— “ She waved her arms around, her gestures taking in Lorna’s
Lorna sagged ever so slightly against the door, and watched as Maria Grazia sat Annabelle down on the miniature leather couch. She strode to her desk, a small but perfectly formed Phillipe Starck knock-off, and sat. She immediately clicked into her email, and proceeded to winnow.
“I need a minute to go through these. Anna, can you put the oddness on hold?”
“I’m not odd.” Annabelle jumped off the couch and went to lean against the single window. “By the way, the feng shui of this entire floor is a disaster.”
Lorna looked at Maria Grazia. Maria Grazia looked at Lorna. Neither of them knew where to start. Annabelle sank onto the floor between the desk and the couch, her right hand in her right pocket. She seemed lost in thought, or as Maria Grazia thought, just lost. She started stroking her friend’s hair, both as a soothing gesture and a means of making her look less crazy.
“Hey, Belle? Take some of those deep breaths you’re always recommending, okay? So, what’s up?”
Lorna set aside her wireless mouse. “Now, Annabelle — ”
“Sorry about lunch.” Annabelle looked up at Lorna. “Sorry.”
“I got over it,” she replied lightly, and leaned forward in what she thought was a firm, yet non-confrontational manner.
Maria Grazia continued to stroke Annabelle’s hair. “Honey, I don’t think we really understood what … delayed you. You were pretty upset and we didn’t really make out what you were trying to tell us.”
Annabelle took a deep breath. “I mailed my manuscript off from the post office on Eighth. It’s got good vibes in there, and I feel like it’s safer, like it’ll get where it’s supposed to go.” Lorna rolled her eyes discreetly as Annabelle plowed on. “I started walking, and I saw this shop, a new age-y kind of place. I’d never seen it before, so I went in.” She took a sip of water, and said, almost dreamily, “Can I have some tea? She gave me tea.”
“She?” Maria Grazia prodded gently when Annabelle didn’t continue.
“The woman. Irish, I think, she sounded Irish, she gave me tea, and she had this deck of cards on a table, and there were like pictures of my life on them or something — ” Lorna’s eyes clashed with Maria Grazia’s, who made a
shut up
face at her. “Then we sat down and she started channeling or something and all the candles went out and there was this huge cloud of smoke from the incense and it felt like we were floating and, and, and then it was over and this … this nut hit me on the head.”
Annabelle took her hand out of her pocket and held out the hazelnut. Maria Grazia and Lorna both leaned forward. They all looked at it in silence.
It lay there.
“Good
Lord
,” huffed Lorna.
“It’s a hazelnut,” said Annabelle.
“Uh huh,” said Maria Grazia calmly, while wondering if anybody she knew had a shrink who would do a drive-by.
“This nut hit you on the head,” said Lorna.
“Yes.” Annabelle nodded avidly.
“From out of nowhere.”
“Yes.”
“And this … woman. She wasn’t surprised or shocked or anything.”
“She said, ‘Well, there you are.’”
“Did she say what it was, or maybe what she thought you should do with it, or if it was a … special hazelnut?” Maria Grazia applauded herself silently on her aplomb, as years of dealing with loony relatives paid off at that very moment.
“I’d say any hazelnut that dropped out of thin air had to be pretty ‘special’.” Lorna’s voice dripped with frosty sarcasm. “I’d say that any kind of Celtic medium or whatever that could conjure up a magical nut has to be rather
bloody
talented — ”
“Could you maybe
not
be such a snot for a second?” Annabelle snapped, and Lorna gaped. Not like Anna to snap. Not like Anna at all. “I know you don’t believe in my spiritual pursuits and that you think I’m a wacko, but quite frankly, I don’t believe in any of
this
— “ She waved her arms around, her gestures taking in Lorna’s
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