Marigold walked in, carrying a tray with two plates on it.
“There are hedges underneath my window, and if I jumped I’d automatically shift into bobcat form and land on my feet,” Lainey said.
“So you’ve thought this through? And I shouldn’t worry about that?” Marigold set the tray down on the nightstand and grabbed one of the plates.
“Don’t steal my food, thief,” she added. “Oh, too soon?”
“Oh, shut up.” Lainey couldn’t help herself; she was smiling. She forced the smile off her face and frowned at Marigold. “You’re not even funny.”
“No, I’m downright hilarious. My fiancé says so all the time.”
“Of course he does. You make the final decision on whether he’s getting any nookie. And you do yoga and let him play with your back porch.”
The pot roast on the plate smelled delicious, and as she sat there trying to ignore it, her stomach rumbled.
“You’re the devil,” Lainey protested half-heartedly, but she grabbed the plate and took a big bite. “And don’t worry, I’m leaving in the morning.”
“Why?” Marigold looked shocked.
“Well, now that the whole town thinks I’m a thief…”
“You know, give people here some credit, will you? Most of the people here are pretty decent judges of character. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re a good person and your mother’s a manipulative, self-serving bitch.”
“But what else could they think?” Lainey protested. “When she accused me, in front of Tate and the whole diner, I didn’t say a word to defend myself.”
“So I heard. You eat fast for a person who’s not hungry. Chew your food.”
Lainey ate a few more bites. “Aren’t you going to ask me about it? Not that I can answer.”
“Nope. I assume when you’re ready to tell me, you’ll tell me.”
Lainey chewed in silence for a moment, then asked the question she’d been dreading. “What did Tate do after I left?”
“Left town.”
That news hit Lainey like a thunderbolt. “I’m sorry, what? He went back home?”
“Nope, he told Kyle he’d be gone a couple days, and he couldn’t say where he was going. Anyway, don’t worry about it. It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to.”
“Why are you always so optimistic?”
“Because I’m psychic. So you should listen to me. Now quit hiding and come downstairs. We’re playing poker, and I need to win some money. Unfortunately, Imogen only lets us play for quarters, but that’ll do.”
“Is it fair for a psychic to play poker?”
“I’m only a love psychic.”
Lainey followed Marigold down the steps, carrying her plate.
Her mind was reeling. Tate was too upset to even stay in town. He’d probably just gone back to his home in Anhinga County, so he wouldn’t have to see her. Would he still come to the wedding?
Chapter Eleven
Two days later
The Golden Years Nursing Home was a sunny, cheery place that reeked of citrus air freshener and Pine-Sol.
Myrtle sat at a small table in the visitor’s room by the front door. It was a pleasant room, with chess tables and wooden shelves holding puzzles and games and boxes of playing cards, decorated in overstuffed floral furniture in tones of pink and mauve which were echoed in the mauve curtains on the big picture windows. The curtains were open wide and the sunbeams were reflected in giant rectangles on the scuffed but gleaming wooden floor.
“It must be time for tea.”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Lainey sighed.
Myrtle was wearing a security bracelet now, one that was supposed to go off if she left the Golden Years Nursing Home. Lainey suspected that if Myrtle were visited by the spirit of the Cypress Woods Witch again, the security bracelet wouldn’t help.
This morning, however, Myrtle was just Myrtle. Her white hair was brushed and pulled back in a bun, and she wore a flowery dress and pink slippers. She had a pleasantly bemused expression on her face, and apparently had no desire to bust out any omens today.
“Here’s your tea.” Lainey set the cup of tea in front of her. She’d picked it up at a coffee shop on the way over.
“Milk and sugar,” Myrtle said. Lainey put little plastic cups of creamer and a pile of sugar next to the tea, and watched while Myrtle poured it all into the tea and stirred.
“It’s just that Tate is supposed to be my fated mate, and I don’t even understand how this whole fated mate thing works. He must be the one, because I’ve never felt the way I did before I met him. But what if you meet your fated mate and then you have to break up? Does that happen?”
Myrtle sipped her tea.
“You see visions. Do you see any visions with me in them? Is there any way I could patch things up with Tate without, you know, telling what I can’t tell? There isn’t, is there?”
Myrtle took another big sip.
Lainey let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know why I came here. I should go. Thanks for listening, Myrtle. Enjoy your tea.” She stood up to leave.