Forecast (25 page)

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind,” Dorian assured her. “I see our future from here. We’ll be together again. But in the meantime, be happy.”

Gwendolyn grinned at her husband and nodded. What the hell, she would! She marched over to the phone and began to dial. She would ask William out. For dinner. Or a show. Or simply have him round for sex.

Gwendolyn let out a throaty chuckle. No, William was the type of man that needed to ease into it slowly. She didn’t want to scare him off. She’d have to romance him a bit. Yes, she’d definitely have to take him out for dinner first.

“You’re right, Dorian. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. But sometimes I’m just so tired of waiting to join you.” Gwendolyn turned to Dorian but he was gone. And for once, it didn’t hurt that much.

Rowie sat with the phone in one hand and Jack’s business card in the other, trying to build up the courage to dial his number. She turned it over in her hand a few times, and then realized there was no need for her to feel guilty anymore. The shop was up for sale and she needed to get another job.

What the hell! She dialed and asked to speak to Jack and then waited while she was transferred through.

“Rowie?” Jack’s voice was warm and welcoming. “I’m thrilled you called.”

“Hi Jack … I’m not sure if you heard about what happened at USBC …”

Jack interrupted her. “I got a few versions, but none of them matter. What matters is where you want to go from here. Any ideas?”

“Not really,” Rowie admitted.

“How about we meet next week and discuss your options?”

“That would be great.”

“And in the meantime, I’ll put my feelers out, okay?”

“Thank you. I really appreciate this, Jack.”

They arranged a time to meet the following week and then Rowie placed the phone down and wandered through the garden and into the shop. She was feeling much more positive about the future. She had mixed feelings about her grandmother’s decision. On the one hand, it meant she was completely free to pursue her own thing, without her grandmother nagging her to return to work. But on the other hand—thank God she only had two hands—she couldn’t imagine life without the shop. What would it be like living in The Grove, knowing she couldn’t duck next door anymore? And what
would
her mother do?

She watched her mother now, sitting quietly behind the counter, her small hands wrapped tightly around a pricing gun. She was armed and ready to fight for her shop. Rowie followed Lilia’s gaze and noticed three men in suits walking up the Shamanism to Yoga aisle. Rowie pulled up a stool beside her.

“Who are they?”

Lilia’s voice sounded constricted. She always carried her stress in her throat. “The real estate agent and two potential buyers.”

“Don’t worry, they don’t look like the type to buy a new age shop,” Rowie assured her.

“It’s the space they’re looking at, not the shop.”

Rowie and Lilia sat quietly and watched the three men. They looked completely out of place in their expensive suits and shiny shoes.

“Lots of character. Make a great nightclub.” The agent oozed that substance common to real estate agents worldwide.

“A shot bar could go there,” mumbled the first suit. “Over near that ugly elephant thing.”

Lilia visibly blanched, as did Ganesha, although only the Shakespeare women noticed.

“The whole place needs chrome,” snapped his slightly shorter clone.

They all paused in front of a mural depicting the tale of Demeter and Persephone.

“That’ll have to fucking go,” announced the shorter suit. “Who is it?”

His friend boomed with laughter. “Looks like that chick you picked up at the Hudson last week.”

“Can’t we do something?” moaned Rowie. “This is awful.”

“Fight fire with fire.” Lilia slipped off her stool and glided over to the three men. “What do you think, gentlemen? I’d be thrilled if you bought the place. I’d trust you to look after them.”

“Them?”

“Why yes, Shirley Ann and her sister Rodica.” Lilia fluttered her eyelashes, and continued in an almost hypnotic voice. “I’m riddled with guilt over selling. It’s taken years for them to trust us. They’re going to feel so betrayed when we leave.”

Three wary stares.

The larger suit looked almost frightened to ask. “Are they … neighbors?”

“Neighbors?” Lilia burst into peals of Oscar-worthy laughter. “No, no … they’re the sisters who were murdered here not long before my parents bought the shop. Quite tragic.” She lowered her voice. “They were discovered, chopped into tiny, tiny, incy, wincey, little bits. It took us years to get all the blood off the walls. And I’m telling you, they weren’t pleased to be dead. They smashed things, chased our customers away … but they’ve mellowed at lot. Ever since our coven cast the Spirit Soothing Spell last Halloween.” Lilia peered up at the three men and smiled. “But I’m sure they’ll be thrilled if you take over.”

“I think we’ve seen enough,” snapped the larger suit.

“You’re not fuckin’ kidding,” muttered his clone.

The real estate agent followed the men as they sprinted out the door. “I have another place in TriBeca …”

Lilia and Rowie collapsed with laughter.

“They ran,” squealed Lilia. “Like scared little mice. Big, brave men.”

“Did you see the look on the real estate agent’s face?” Rowie wiped tears from her eyes. “That was very naughty, but oh, so funny. Gran won’t be pleased at all.”

Lilia became serious again. “I don’t really care at the moment. Selling the shop is the nastiest thing she’s ever done. And that’s a long goddamn list.”

“It’s my fault,” said Rowie. “Perhaps she’s tired of running it …”

“What about me?” Lilia’s eyes flashed angrily. “I could learn.”

“But you … I didn’t know you were interested.”

Lilia shrugged and ran her hand over the counter. “I haven’t been interested in much for a long time. But that’s going to change, Rowie. I can feel it. The winds of change are coming.”

Rowie watched as her mother sauntered out the back. Suddenly a warm wind blew from nowhere, and swept all the papers off the counter. Lilia was wrong. The winds of change weren’t coming; they were already here.

Rowie rang Petey’s bell and then straightened the bagua mirror on his door while she waited for him to open it. Petey lived in a part of the Lower East Side that still had ugly grey streets and dingy shop fronts. Being Libran he needed a semblance of beauty and balance in his surroundings, but being eternally broke he rarely had it. His job as a youth caseworker for a small social service agency was rewarding but didn’t pay much.

Petey’s ground floor apartment was a Feng Shui disaster. Opposite a car park, it had a gas station on one side and a view of a car wrecker from the back window. Add to that an empty basement underneath and you have somewhere bound to give Lillian Too a heart attack.

Rowie and Angel had been horrified the first time Petey had shown them his new digs.

“Bloody hell,” Angel exclaimed. “Who’d you rent it off, the Addams Family? This is as welcoming as a flat in Kabul.”

Petey dismissed her concerns. “I bought a new book on Feng Shui …”

“Honey, it’s a book on demolition you need. Even the Chinese can’t help this dump.”

Petey, however, remained optimistic. “Every problem has a cure in Feng Shui.”

“Well not unless you open a crystal shop in your lounge room. I’m sure Feng Shui has its cures, but this apartment doesn’t have a common cold kinda problem. It’s not even viral, fixed with a bagua mirror and some rest. This is architectural terminal cancer. The geographical equivalent of Ebola. Feng Shui bird flu.”

Rowie rushed to Petey’s defense. “Oh shut up Angel. What do you know about Feng Shui anyway?”

“About as much as the guy who built this monstrosity darling.”

From then on whenever Angel visited Petey she did so singing the song
Ain’t No Mountain High Enough
, only the words were changed to “Ain’t no wind chime big enough.”

Petey swung open the door and welcomed Rowie with a big hug. “Come in.”

Rowie wandered into the living room and was surprised to see how much it had changed since her last visit. A few rugs, throws and lamps, some paintings and picture frames. “It needed a woman’s touch,” Petey whispered. Rowie nodded, but it wasn’t the décor that changed the room, it was the love that filled it. This was a happy home now.

Georgette stuck her head around the door. “I thought I heard the bell.” She walked over and gave Rowie a kiss on the cheek and Rowie was surprised to see how different she looked. She had lost a bit of weight and most of her hair, although she tried to disguise that with a scarf, but the most obvious change was her face. Georgette looked radiant. Her skin, her eyes, her smile—this was a woman in love.

“I’m so glad you could come over,” she said.

The doorbell rang again and a minute later Petey led Angel and Shin into the room.

“Wow,” said Angel. “This place looks great. No need to sing my song.”

“Georgie has a good eye for decorating,” Petey explained. “She’s made a few changes.”

“A few?” laughed Angel. “She’s a bloody magician.”

Georgette had worked some magic in the kitchen as well because dinner was a macrobiotic extravaganza, served with a simple explanation: “Petey and I are sticking to a healthy diet for now.”

Dinner started with a chickpea and vegetable salad, followed by miso soup thick with vegetables and a leek pie, and poached pears with raspberries and lemon sauce for dessert. Georgette sipped on lemon-mint tea while the others washed the meal down with an organic Pinot Noir.

“This is a nice drop,” said Shin. “Where did you get it?”

“I ordered some organic wines over the internet,” Georgette explained. “They’re quite inexpensive, especially when you consider the cost to the environment.”

“We need to rebalance everything,” Petey added. “The planet, our bodies.” He glanced sideways at Georgette.

“Shall we all join hands and sing Kumbaya now?” teased Angel.

Petey roared with laughter. “Yeah, I know we sound like old hippies.”

“It’s important you keep healthy,” said Rowie quietly.

Angel—it was always Angel—broached the subject that was on everyone else’s mind. “So tell us, Georgie, so we can support you both, what’s happening with this cancer thing?”

Rowie almost spat her drink everywhere and held her breath waiting to see how Georgette reacted.

Georgette’s face was still for a moment and then she broke into a huge grin. “Thank God someone brought it up,” she laughed. “It’s like the elephant in the room, don’t you think? It really needs to be confronted.” She explained what to expect as her disease progressed, if it progressed. There was always hope. She certainly believed in miracles now.

“I tried to talk Georgie into going traveling with me,” said Petey. “I thought we could go looking for a cure. I’ve heard some amazing reports about Sai Baba, and some healers in Asia. But she made me realize that her best chance is here, surrounded by people who love her.”

Rowie watched as Petey and Georgette stared into each other’s eyes, and hated herself for feeling jealous. The woman was fighting cancer. One of her best friends was in love with someone who might die. And she was envious? She’d suffer a horrible death and come back as a cockroach for having such thoughts.

Yet that one look … just to have that, even for a moment.

“So did you have your boob off?” Another straight to the point question from Angel.

Georgette glanced at Petey. “Should I show them?”

Petey nodded and Georgette got up from the table.

“Oh shit no, you don’t have to show us,” shrieked Angel.

Georgette laughed at everyone’s horror and lifted her T-shirt over her head. She stood before them, naked from the waist up, a hand covering her remaining breast. Her body was boyish in build, would have been even with the missing breast, and she stood proudly, waiting for everyone to react. It didn’t take long before their mouths dropped open in amazement.

“Oh my God,” said Angel. “I thought you were going to show … this is … incredible.”

Georgette’s breastless left side had been tattooed into a colorful garden of flowers. Sweeping up and across her shoulder and down her back, as though caught in a wind, were a sprinkling of petals and tiny butterflies. Rowie, Angel and Shin moved in closer, immersed in the art. Hidden among the flowers were a number of exquisite fairies, their tiny faces laughing at the amazed onlookers. Drifting near her heart was a single red balloon.

“It’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen,” whispered Rowie.

“My body’s worth celebrating,” explained Georgette. “I’d already decided against reconstruction. Petey loves me the way I am, but I still couldn’t look in the mirror and be comfortable … happy with what I saw. I can now. I’m a work of art.”

“It’s unbelievable,” said Angel. She looked up at Georgette, her face filled with admiration for her new friend. “You come across all quiet and reserved, but you’ve got balls of steel, girlfriend.”

“There’s no point being in the theme park unless you ride the roller coaster,” said Georgette. “That’s why I decided to love Petey, even though it would’ve been safer not to.”

Rowie watched as Angel glanced at Shin, and Georgette smiled at Petey. Boy, was she the odd one out. She wasn’t on the rollercoaster. Hell, she didn’t even have a ticket for the theme park. Her life was more of a long line, waiting for tickets. While she was happy for her friends, their joy only exacerbated her own heartbreak.

And her heart
was
broken.

She missed Drew. Or perhaps she missed the thought of Drew and the potential between them. Whatever it was, it hurt. But most of all, she missed the hope. All her life, Gwendolyn and Lilia had promised her the search would be over the minute she experienced blissful nothingness. All those first kisses that were shattered by visions, nice guys destined for other women. It wasn’t easy, but there was always a glimmer of hope that the next man she kissed would be the one it took a lifetime, rather than a moment, to know.