The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(43)

I smile at the idea of Hillary as the ‘wild child.’ My great-grandmother narrows her eyes at me and looks as if she had an epiphany. “You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?” she asks me. Before I can reply, she says, “I can’t tell you how glad that makes me. It’s about time that one settled down.”

“He is,” George says.

“I’m not,” I say simultaneously.

“You two need to get your stories straight.” Mary says, flicking her cigarette ash into an intricate ashtray—the only adornment on the end table next to her chair. The table is the one item in this room that looks as if it was made in this century.

“Hillary is dating a friend of mine,” I say pointedly. I promised to keep my Reader nature hidden, but I did not agree to pretend to be dating my aunt in the process.

“Is your friend a Guide?” Mary asks worriedly. I think she’s picking up on George’s tension.

I ignore George’s glare. “No.”

“My, my.” She shakes her head. “I bet Ronnie boy will have a fit about that.” She scrunches her face in displeasure when she says the name.

“Ronald doesn’t know about his daughter’s choice,” George says. “At least not yet.”

“Insufferable bore, that young man,” Mary says. “I warned Anne about marrying him, I did.”

I suppress a smile. Despite her dislike for Readers, Mary seems less close-minded than Hillary’s parents.

“I’m sure it’s a phase,” she says after taking another drag from her cigarette. “I’m sure she’ll tire of her Unencumbered plaything sooner rather than later.”

And there goes that open-mindedness. I change the subject. “Why was Frederick talking about me?”

“He was just giving me an update,” she says, “since he was the one to pull me in today. Such nice young lads, those brothers, don’t you think, George? One of them would make a much better mate for Hillary, since Darren here isn’t interested, and the two of you didn’t work out.”

I blink. Wait a second, if what she says is true—

“It wouldn’t be right for me to try to set up the twins with members of my family,” George says diplomatically. “But as a peer Elder, you could certainly—”

“That’s rich. Me, an Elder?” She chuckles. “You’re such a flatterer, just like my dear Henry was.”

“I’m simply speaking the truth.” George’s face shows zero hesitation. “Once an Elder, always an Elder.”

“Not after your brain gives up on you.” Mary takes a deep puff of her cigarette and lets it out noisily. “After that, you’re nothing but a curiosity around here.”

I’m barely listening to George and Mary. Instead, a little proverbial lightbulb is slowly gathering electricity above my head. Crossing my fingers and hoping I’m right, I ask as casually as possible, “How does it work, Mary, this current lucidity of yours?”

“I thought Georgie would have explained it to you.” She puts out what’s left of her cigarette. “When they start a Session, they start with me, you see.”

My heart rate picks up. “What do you mean, they start with you?”

“I mean, whoever’s Session it is, they try to pull me in a few times until they catch me during a functional moment. It seems to help me keep my wits better while in the Mind Dimension. Still, even with this trick, sometimes things get fuzzy. And on some days, the Session starter gives up after a dozen attempts. I fear it will only get worse with time.”

Jackpot. My first and only success as a detective.

Before I get a chance to ruminate on my epiphany, George says, “At least you get to enjoy a century this time around. That’s more experiences than an Unencumbered has in a lifetime.”

Mary nods. “You’re right to criticize me for the ungrateful wretch that I am. Now, let’s get back to more important things. Darren, tell me what else my granddaughter has been up to.”

She resumes smoking, and I proceed to tell her as much as I can about Hillary without elaborating on her role in my recent adventures. I also try not to talk too much about Bert. The story comes out very vegan-agenda oriented.

“Such a shame,” Mary says, putting out her third cigarette. “This is all rebellion, I tell you. Ronnie’s family were meat farmers—”

“She’s doing what she thinks is right,” I say, feeling the need to defend my aunt. “I don’t think she gives a rat’s ass about her father’s family business.”

She sighs. “If it weren’t for Ronald’s heavy-handed approach with my granddaughters, I would have gotten a chance to see them from time to time. As is, the younger one is following in the footsteps of the older—”

“Why don’t we let Darren go, Mary?” George suggests. “It’s his first time on the Island, after all.”

“Why do you call me that?” Mary asks, pursing her lips almost petulantly. “Mary this, Mary that?”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” George says. “I didn’t want to confuse our young friend here.”

“What’s there to be confused about?” She digs through her pockets and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “When my mind was my own, I looked after George,” she explains to me.