Suddenly Psychic (Glimmer Lake #1)(20)

“We’ve all developed psychic powers,” Monica said. “That’s what you just said, Val.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you did,” Robin said. “What’s going on?”

Val blinked and stared straight at her. “Nothing.”

Robin narrowed her eyes. “You are lying so hard right now. You are lying harder than when you told Julie Gulling her parents wanted to adopt you.”

“That was so mean,” Monica said. “You scared that girl.”

“She deserved it,” Val said.

Robin was not going to let Val and Monica go off on a tangent. “Don’t distract us, Val. You just said, ‘We’ve all developed psychic powers.’ Tell us what is going on.”

Robin was positive something was up with Val. She glanced at Monica. Monica knew it too.

“What are you feeling, Val?” Monica used her calm-yet-firm mother-of-four voice. “We’ve been honest with you even when it’s been embarrassing.”

“Nothing.” Val let out a forced laugh. “I’m stressed out. We all are. We almost died. Have you thought about that? Really thought about it? That’s why we’re having PTSD. We were terrified and nearly died and had to face the fact that our lives are a lot more precarious than we all thought.”

Val lifted her chin as she sat back at the table and picked up her sandwich. “And to be honest, I’m still a little offended that Monica wouldn’t marry me if we were lesbians because I don’t fold laundry.”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” Monica said.

“I’m just saying that seems like a really minor thing to focus on when we were almost going to die.”

“But we didn’t die, and I bet you still have laundry on your couch from before my birthday!”

“Are we in seventh grade again?” Robin rubbed her temple. “Both of you. Stop.”

Was Val right? Was Robin imagining all this?

No. She wasn’t an imaginative person. She hadn’t been since she was a child.

“We probably all need to see therapists,” Val said, “but my craptastic insurance doesn’t do that, so I’m up shit creek. I’ll be fine. I’ll just drink more wine. Cheap wine.”

“Yes, that’s definitely a healthy strategy to nurture mental health,” Robin said.

“Better than avoiding everything, which seems to be your go-to.”

Bitch. Robin didn’t say it, but her glare seemed to get the sentiment across, because Val was glaring too.

Monica reached for both their hands. “This is not accomplishing anything. Val, for the record, if I liked girls, I would consider you a great catch.”

“Thanks, Monica.”

“But I would insist on hiring someone to do laundry. Don’t argue with me, you know I’m right.”

Val shrugged. “Fine.”

Robin said, “I’m so glad you got your completely fictional marriage sorted out.”

Val flipped her off.

Monica shot Robin a look. “Before we start bickering again, tell us what’s going on, Val. Even if you think we’re full of shit, tell us what’s going on.”

“Nothing!” Val pulled her hand from Monica’s and rose. “I’m telling you, this is PTSD. Do you remember how crazy I was after Josh left? This is worse, okay? I’m edgy all the time. I don’t want to be in my shop. I’m losing patience with everyone, and don’t even get me started on all the shit people leave behind.”

“What?”

“Just… stuff! Have you ever noticed how much crap all of us have?” She walked over to the table. “Purses! Why do we carry purses everywhere?”

“Because women’s pants don’t have decent pockets because fashion designers are men who suck?” Robin said. “I don’t know. Having a purse never bothered you before.”

Val pointed to the kitchen. “All these… what do you call them? Little decorative things? Doodads? Fiddly shit? I don’t know.”

“Small decorative items?” Robin asked.

“Art?” Monica appeared confused.

“Stuff!” Val exploded. “We have so much random stuff! People leave phones and purses, and they’re fucking careless with their stuff, okay? It’s annoying as hell. And my boys are pigs lately. Just pigs. I feel like my house exploded.”

“Your boys are always messy.” Monica’s voice was steady. “It’s never bothered you before.”

“Well, it’s getting worse.”

“What on earth is going on with you?” Robin was struggling to figure this out. Her friend had always had a short temper, but being annoyed at purses? That was just… weird.

“I’m telling you,” Val said, “we’re all feeling it. This is a normal reaction to nearly dying. I’m irritable. Robin’s seeing things from the past and thinking they’re something weird. Monica is dreaming disturbing things, but these are all symptoms of—”

“I really don’t think it’s PTSD,” Monica said quietly. “But I do think something is going on with you. Why won’t you tell us?”

Val paused and leaned back on the counter, only to pull her hands away as if she’d been burned.