Holly Banks Full of Angst (Village of Primm, #1)(68)

3. YOUR HUSBAND? I suspect that with most of my clients, if you’re asking the question, the answer is typically, “Yes, he’s having an affair.” Psychic powers heighten during times of infidelity when vibrations cross. However, with you, Holly Banks, I sense you are a special case. I say trust him. You’re probably simply “out of alignment” right now due to Mercury’s retrograde and recent transits in your family life—literally, figuratively, and psychically. Ever smudge your marital bed with white sage? That might help. But don’t involve yourself with dealings done while hiding or you’re in for a lot of shadow work to ward off psychic attacks from what you find in the dark. Ever do shadow work? I hope you like the smell of frankincense.





Holly, I sense your angst comes from trying to see more clearly while sailing through fog in uncharted waters without a compass. Seek mirrors. Beacons of light. Look at life through a new lens and pay close attention to those already ashore—especially those frantically waving their arms above their head, hollering, “Not there, you idiot!” They may sound brash, but they’re trying to help you. You keep bumping into the same rocks over and over again. Once you’ve seen what you need to see—once you row your boat ashore (Hal-le-luuuu-jah!)—pay attention to what you hear. I suspect you have voices in your head that need purging. Try tuning them out. Silencing them. Better yet, channel them into something. Singing, painting. Something creative. Are you an artist? I sense you’re a creative type.





Wisdom from the Tarot:





Mary-Margaret = 8 of Cups (move on) paired with Temperance (find balance)





Your mom = 6 of Pentacles Reversed (debt) paired with Wheel of Fortune (luck)





Your husband = 7 of Cups (either fantasy and illusion or choices) paired with 10 of Cups (happy family)





—Psychic Betty





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Don’t be a clod! Eat Beer Batter Cod!





24


A few hours before lunch



“I think you need a new router,” Caleb told Holly while sliding a stack of Disney DVDs away from his work space as Struggle closed in on him, trying to lick his neck, hoping for another treat. “This shouldn’t take long.”

“Do whatever it takes. I just need something to work in my life.” Holly sighed, wishing she could find a good spot to place a metal rooster she’d just pulled from a moving box. It was midmorning on Wednesday, the second day of school, and she missed Ella something awful. “Do you think the paint color in here has mustard tones in it?”

Caleb squinted, then shrugged. “Looks fine to me. But maybe you’re red-green color blind.”

“Red-green color blind?” Seriously?

“It’s possible.”

“Oh, no.” Holly tilted her head to study the paint. I do see mustard. Spit cakes! Maybe I am color blind. Holly wandered toward the living room toting the metal rooster beneath her arm. “Yesterday was a disaster,” she told Caleb, returning empty handed from the living room. “I hit Ella’s school bus with my car.”

“Whoa.” Caleb’s eyes widened. “Anyone hurt?”

“My ego.” Holly slurped her coffee. “I ate some cookies. But the cookies were tainted.” She stared intently at him. “Actually, I was poisoned.”

“Ha!” He must have thought it was a joke. Must have thought Holly was telling a story. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. The president of the PTA is trying to kill me.”

Okay, so maybe she embellished. Holly didn’t think Mary-Margaret was really trying to kill her. Did she?

Perking up a bit, Caleb gave her his full attention. “So let me get this straight. You’re saying there’s a killer mom in the Village of Primm?”

“Yup.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to go that far. Maybe not a killer . . .

“What’s her motive?”

Holly smiled. “Your film school is showing.” She paced the floor, twisting a strand of hair around her fingers. “I don’t know what her motive is. Maybe she’s a bully? Maybe because I’m a newcomer . . . I’m an easy target?”

“Do you threaten her?”

“I doubt it.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe you do.”

“I do push back sometimes. Been known to wear yellow.” Holly plopped down on the sofa, toppling a pile of folded laundry. Struggle was still bothering Caleb for a treat. “Struggle, sit.” Holly snapped her fingers. Please obey me. “Come ’ere, Struggle.” Struggle didn’t move. “Struggle!” Struggle stared blankly at Holly like she had no earthly idea what Holly wanted her to do.