“Stop it.” Bingo batted her friend’s fingers away. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“No.”
I wasn’t so sure. Pearl appeared off-balance.
Suddenly, she clutched her chest. Her eyes widened. She gasped for breath. Without warning, she crumpled to the ground. Bingo, who had been a nurse before she moved to Crystal Cove to open her dream shop, crouched beside Pearl. She grabbed her wrist. Just as she pressed two fingers against Pearl’s throat, Pearl bolted to a sitting position. Bingo fell backward on her rump.
Pearl laughed uproariously. “I’m not dead, you goon.”
Bingo’s mouth fell open. “Why you—”
My aunt leaped to a stand and said, “What on earth?”
Pearl continued to laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s almost Halloween.”
“Pranks are for April Fools’ Day,” Bingo said.
“C’mon. Can’t anybody take a joke?”
“Dying is no joke,” Bingo said.
“Of course it’s not,” Pearl stammered. “But you mimed pulling a trigger a second ago, and I thought—”
“You could have given us all a heart attack.”
“But I didn’t, and it’s just . . .” Pearl’s mouth drew into a grim line. Her gaze turned serious. “I apologize. I’m emotionally punch-drunk, that’s all. I—” She hesitated.
“Out with it,” Bingo said.
“I just learned the results of some tests. I’ve been diagnosed with Type II diabetes. I know it’s not life-threatening. It’s all about having the right amount of insulin in my system, but the report sounded so stark. I’ve never watched my weight. I should have”—she patted her plump stomach—“but I haven’t. I simply needed to do something to lighten my day. I didn’t mean to frighten you so much. Forgive me?” She reached for Bingo’s hand and squeezed.
“Are you going to be okay?” Bingo said.
“Of course. I’ve started my medication, and I’m taking the advice I give to my patients. Positive thinking.” She eyed me. One of her favorite mantras was:
All things level out in time
. She lumbered to her feet and offered a hand to Bingo, who accepted.
Bingo brushed off her dress and said, “Come with me. Let’s get a cup of tea, and I’ll fill you in on some dietary tips. Number one, remember that stress can raise glucose levels.” The pair walked off, arm in arm.
My aunt turned to me and kissed me on both cheeks. “Well, that was fun.
Not
.”
I laughed. “I have to say I was shocked that Pearl would do something, well, as irrational as that.”
“Medical surprises can turn a person’s world upside down.” Aunt Vera glanced at her watch. “My, my. Time flies when you’re having a ball. Speaking of which, I’ve been cleaning up at my table. I’ve earned over three hundred dollars for the cause.” She was charging a dollar per palm or tarot card reading. “How about The Cookbook Nook booth?”
“We’re doing great. The
Harry Potter
cookbook, as expected, is a bestseller, and we’ve sold tons of herbal potion books. I think everyone attending is drawn to the mystical.”
“Wonderful. Now . . . as long as nothing else goes wrong . . .” Her face, normally radiant with hope, turned grim.
A chill ran through me. “Why would you say that?”
“A moment ago, when Pearl arrived, I got the worst feeling.”
A breath caught in my chest. “What kind of feeling?”
“I was all itchy, and the light up here”—she tapped her temple—“went extremely dark.”
“Maybe you were sensing Pearl’s prank.”
Aunt Vera nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Silly me.” She kissed her fingers and tossed the imaginary kiss to the wind, something I’d seen her do all of my life. She said it was a good way to return bad energy to the universe.
In spite of her gesture, an uneasy feeling surged through me. Desperate to shake it off, I said, “It’s a good thing no more mirrors have broken.”
My aunt rapped the table. “Knock on wood.”
