Freeks(16)

I flicked on the vanity light and grabbed my makeup from the drawer and quickly put on eyeliner and mascara, finishing it off with scarlet lipstick that popped against the caramel tone of my skin.

Then I noticed the scrap of paper with Della Jane’s number was tacked to the top of the mirror, with one of Blossom’s necklaces dangling over it. Blossom kept most of her stuff in her own trailer, but since she spent so much time here, some of it ended up left behind.

But that’s not what made my gaze stop short. I’d left Della Jane’s number on the table in the kitchen, and Blossom’s necklace hadn’t been in here at all.

Mom must’ve come in and put it up here. Strange that I hadn’t woken up when she came in, but I had been very sleepy.…

I tried to shrug it off, and on impulse, I grabbed Blossom’s necklace and dropped it over my head. There was no time to worry about anything else, or even think about the nightmare that still left me feeling jumpy. I had to see if my mom needed any help.

As soon as I stepped out of the Winnebago, with the door creaking shut behind me, I heard the sound of the carnival. The music came from the midway—happy-go-lucky circus tunes from speakers set up along the booths—but mixed with that, I could hear laughter and talking. It was already under way, which meant I was very late.

Gathering my skirt, I dashed toward the carnival. The fairgrounds hadn’t felt so far away earlier when I’d been helping out with the museum and my mother’s booth, but as I dodged between trailers and nearly ran into Betty, it seemed to be miles away.

I couldn’t remember where the gate was that kept our motorhomes fenced off from the carnival. I ended up finding a gap in the chain link where it had been cut and slid through it and ran to my mom’s tent.

Her tent was small—only big enough for three chairs and a tiny table. The fabric was a dark violet that shimmered, even in the fading twilight. Fortune Teller was painted on the sign above the door, along with several mystical-looking symbols that really meant nothing.

There was another sign, pinned to the curtain that served as a door, with the words Mystic Lyanka—Sees All, Knows All. It featured a fairly nice painting of my mom that Gideon had done years ago. She’d been younger then, so her skin had been smoother, her eyes brighter, her smile wider. But even in the painting, there was an air of mystery about her.

“The message in the cards is clear, though the vision is hazy,” my mom was saying, and I peeled back the curtain, just enough so I could peek in.

An intricate rug of black and gold covered the expanse of the tent floor, and while it did have a rather luxurious appearance, in reality, Mom had picked it up at a garage sale for a dime two years ago. The same with the velvet throw pillows that lined the edges of the tent.

A chandelier hung from the center of the tent above the table, lit with thin white candles. The table and chairs were a matching set, and actually were antiques that my mom had inherited from her mother. From what I understood, my grandma had conned them out of a rich woman she’d met at a flea market.

Most things in here were props, set up for mood, but the tarot cards and stones were real. Mom even had a crystal ball, though she almost never used it, because she said it rarely worked. She might take money from strangers for her gift, but my mom never lied about the things she saw. Or didn’t see.

Mom sat facing the door to the tent, her eyes focused on the cards in front of her. She still had a deck of cards in her hand—the images faded and worn from years of use—and she absently shuffled them.

The chairs across from her had two teenage girls sitting in them. Their backs were to me, so they didn’t notice me peeking in on their reading.

“You need to trust your heart.” Mom tapped a card in front of one of the girls. “That’s very clear. There’s going to be a change, and the outcome can be good or bad depending on how well you listen to your heart.”

“So should I break up with Dean?” the girl asked.

“I can’t say.” Mom shook her head. “But a change is needed.”

I let go of the curtain, letting it slide shut, and waited beside the tent until Mom had finished. My mom was always truthful about her visions, but what people wanted from her usually had less to do with fortunes and fates than it did therapy.

Most of the time, people just wanted someone to listen, and even when she didn’t have much to help them in the way of her gift, Mom was always happy to help.

Once the girls had finished their reading, thanking my mother profusely as they exited, I slid inside to see how she was doing.

“Sorry I wasn’t here before,” I said as she slid the cards back into a pile. “Do you need anything?”

She shuffled the cards and stared down at the rug. “You can get me aspirin and water.”

“The headaches are already starting? How many readings have you done?” I asked.

“That was my second one.” She motioned to the door, where the girls had just left. “But the first one was more intense.”

I frowned. “Mom.”

“I’m fine.” Mom looked up at me. The scarf wrapped around her head kept her dark hair out of her face, and her eyes were grave. “It’s the life that chose me, and it’s fine. Can you get me the water and pills before the next customer comes?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I gave her a contrite smile. “I’ll be back.”