Surviving Valencia

“Yes. She knew so much that it was crazy. She knew that I was going to paint the nursery periwinkle. She actually said periwinkle. She knew that I was going to go to the Lucky Duckling for blankets. She was seriously amazing…”

“Really,” he said, pulling a paint sample from the outer pocket of my purse, clearly labeled Pacific Periwinkle. “Was this sticking out of your purse like this all day?”

I felt my face grow hot. “I don’t know.”

“Honey, those people are scam artists. Ha

ve you gone to her before?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Why have you been withdrawing so much money lately?”

“Just to shop.”

“Why do you need cash?”

“Some of the stores I like don’t take credit cards.”

“Will you do something for me?”

“What is it?”

“Don’t see any more psychics. Ever again. Promise me.”

“Adrian, don’t make me promise that. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

“Do I ever ask anything of you?”

“Frisky. You asked me to let you have Frisky here with us.”

“Frisky is for our protection. I am being serious. Do I ever, I mean do I ever, ask anything of you?”

We stood across from each other, silent, our eyes locked. Typically situations like this put me a peculiar mood to giggle hysterically. But not this time.

“No, I guess not.”

“So do this one thing for me.”

“You’ve got it,” I said. I went outside, slamming the door behind me, and sat down in the soon-to-be-upgraded hammock. I popped another prenatal vitamin. As I replaced the bottle, I noticed the advertisement I had torn from a local magazine reminding myself about monogramable cashmere blankets available at the Lucky Duckling. I shook my head in disgust at myself, at my gullibility; I wadded up the glossy sheet of paper and threw it in our firepit.

After enough time went by that I was sure Adrian wasn’t going to come out to see how I was doing, I tried calling Jeb. Again it went straight to his voicemail. I left a brief message telling him to call me. I was worried about him. He had never been unreliable before. I picked at the fringe on the hammock. If he never responded to me, sooner or later, I was going to have to tell someone.

“Frisky, stop it!” I cried, distracted by the dog lunging at a bird in the birdbath. He put his front paws on the heavy edge of the birdbath and the whole top of it flipped off its base, nearly landing him. To my amazement, he ran up to me, whimpering, and tried to hide behind me. I petted his head and he looked up at me, adoringly. It was easy to forget he was still just a puppy.

The back door opened. “Look at you two. Best friends. Do you want to see how it looks, now that I have some on the walls?” asked Adrian, standing before me with a paint roller in his hand, smiling.

“Sure,” I said, squishing the Lucky Duckling advertisement deeper into the firepit and smearing my flip flop off on the grass as Frisky and I went inside to join him.

Chapter 45

My freshman year in high school, I made a friend. Her name was Marnie Hopkins. She was pretty, funny, and a sophomore. Unlike myself, she held all the potential in the world. Her family had just moved to Hudson from Dallas, and she had to take Geography with our class because she had missed it at her old school. On the first day of class, we were told to pair off into ‘geograbuddies’ to work on papers and projects together throughout the year. By the process of elimination, as our classmates all quickly buddied up, soon she and I were the only two left. So our teacher made us partners.

Our first project was due in early October.