Gray-purple clouds that had threatened rain all afternoon finally made good on the promise. I’d driven across town to walk the last couple of dogs in a daze. The gathering storm matched my mood. I made it home just in time to avoid getting completely soaked. The delicious aroma of pot roast and carrots met me at the door—my mother was up to something.
I put my bag in the front closet and tucked my phone into my jeans pocket. Hoping to find dinner already in progress, I wandered toward the dining room. Seth sat alone at the table. The dogs were curled up together in the corner.
Asking about his day got me a summary of the dog testimony gleaned from many hours in Aunt Vi’s company. Tuffy had not been forthcoming. He was sticking to his story about bacon. Baxter had reported that Tish had been “tense” recently. Although how he could tell the difference between tense Tish and normal Tish I had no idea. I wasn’t buying any of it. My feelings about Aunt Vi and her occupation were well known in my family but, as long as I lived here with her, I had promised to behave and keep my opinions to myself.
Mom bustled in with dinner. My father followed with a bottle of wine, then came Vi carrying a stack of plates and a foul attitude.
Dad sported a swoop of white hair that rose straight up out of his head and gave him a perpetually surprised demeanor. I’m pretty sure that the shock of moving in with my aunt had never worn off. He is a dentist who still sees patients a few days a week and fills the rest of his time listening to his police scanner and forcing us to decipher 10-codes.
Tonight, he was fairly upbeat and sat next to me, humming to himself.
“You’re in a good mood,” I said, looking him over.
“We’re having pot roast.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
“You don’t really like pot roast,” I said, and spooned carrots onto my plate.
“No, but you do, which means your mother has plans for you and not for me.” He pointed to each of us and snapped his napkin open.
“Oh, Frank,” my mother said. “That’s ridiculous. Clyde had a terrible day. I thought she deserved a treat.”
I knew then that I was in trouble.
As usual, the table grew quiet as everyone worked through the first serving. My mother turned on the dining room lights as the storm picked up. I sat between Seth and Dad. One was eating like he hadn’t seen food in weeks; the other was pounding the wine and humming. It made for a distracting meal. Vi broke the silence. My father poured himself a generous second glass of pinot noir as she began her observations. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“I’ve been working with Tuffy all day, and I can’t get anything out of him.” She leaned forward, glanced at Tuffy, and lowered her voice. “Shih tzu’s are not known for their discerning minds. They bark at anything and have a generally overinflated opinion of their own power in the world.”
My father muttered something to his wine that sounded like “It’s not just the shih tzus. . . .”
Vi continued to educate us on the vagaries of shih tzus and their temperaments and finished by saying she was shocked she could get so little out of our particular houseguest. She glanced in his direction a few times, but he seemed to be ignoring us. Her conclusion was that he should be shouting his feats of daring and courage from the rooftops but he wasn’t, and she was getting nowhere.
Seth addressed himself to his dinner with the focus of a Zen master, and I kept checking to be sure he was breathing between bites. The storm outside was picking up steam, the thunder rumbling closer.
I interrupted Vi’s monologue when she stopped to take a drink. “I heard today that Sara and Tish were having some trouble?” My mother glanced up quickly.
“Oh that was nothing,” she said with a brisk flip of her hand, dismissing whatever I was about to say.
“I heard it was something,” I said. “Tish tried to block her certificate. What’s up with that?”
“What certificate?” Seth asked, coming up for air.
“The city council grants a certificate to newly trained mediums to allow them to practice within city limits,” Vi told him.
She didn’t tell him that without it the medium might as well pack up and move somewhere else. The law was passed decades ago and was still on the books, mostly because no one had had a reason to fight it. Whenever a new medium or psychic wanted to set up shop in Crystal Haven he or she had to interview with the city council and then pass a test that included giving readings to three council members. The certification process was not easy, but someone with Sara’s talent should have had no trouble.
“Tish had a rough couple of years, and she and Sara just didn’t see eye to eye on everything,” said Mom. “Tish thought Sara was too showy, and Tish didn’t care for the kinds of séances she was doing. But it was all within the regulations, and Tish had no recourse but to remove her concerns and allow the certificate to go through.” She started to clear the table, a signal that she was done talking about this topic.
“What’s the deal with Sara’s divorce?” I asked, holding my plate as she tried to take it.
“What do you mean?” Vi glanced at my mother and then at me.