“You’re going?” May asked when she saw Emmy nudge Sarah and get to her feet.
“If I stayed, I’d just rain on your sex psychic parade,” Emmy pointed out with a self-deprecating smile. “Besides, I have work tomorrow.”
“You’re working on Sunday?” one of May’s friends asked, aghast.
“I’m a concierge. They don’t always ask me to work weekends, but I fill in when I can. Anyway, this was super fun. I can’t wait for next week!” This last part was said with genuine feeling, and Emmy followed it with a long hug for her sister. “I’m so glad you’re happy,” she whispered. “Going to be the best wedding ever. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Thanks for coming, sweets.”
Emmy and Sarah said goodbye—they’d carpooled since they lived so close to each other—and made their way out to Sarah’s car. Her friend had volunteered to be the designated driver so Emmy could cut loose a little at her sister’s party. As soon as they were buckled in, the questions started.
“Your sister really thinks she met her fiancé because of a novelty deck of Tarot cards?”
“Yes.”
Sarah shook her head. “She is literally the happiest person I’ve ever met, and she believes in fairy tales. Sometimes I wonder how she can be that sweet without ever being obnoxious. But she just… isn’t. It’s a mystery.”
“If I ever figure out the answer, I’ll let you know.”
“Have you been to this sex psychic place?”
Emmy snorted in response.
“You’re not tempted at all?” Sarah asked.
“I’m good. Me and romance aren’t talking right now.”
Sarah winced. “Oops. Can’t even blame the wine for shoving my foot in my mouth. I only had one glass all night.”
Emmy waved away her concern. “It’s fine. I’m mostly over it. Just not looking to ask fate to send me another guy yet.”
“I can understand that. It’s good that May’s happy with her guy, and that’s enough for me.”
“Yeah.” Emmy smiled a little wistfully. “Me, too.”
*
Emmy put on her beloved comfy pants as soon as she was back in her apartment. She paired them with a loose t-shirt, then went about the soothing routine of checking on her plants. The window boxes had been one of her first purchases when she’d moved in. One day, she told herself, she’d have a house with a real garden that she could play around in. For now, she tested the dampness of the soil and satisfied herself that the light rain they’d had a couple days back had been sufficient to keep the brightly colored pansies feeling happy and healthy. She’d done the arrangement herself and thought they looked bright and inviting. Pansies had always been a personal favorite. Back inside, she checked on her snake plant, which she affectionately called Sir Hiss. It probably wouldn’t need water for weeks yet, but she liked to run her fingers over the waxy leaves. Her peace lily got a sipof water, as did the little thicket of bamboo in the handmade ceramic pot that May had gotten her for her last birthday.
Satisfied that all her plants were thriving, she flopped back in bed. Her ears soaked in the sweet silence of her apartment, and her boobs breathed twin sighs of relief at having been released from the confines of the torture device known as the strapless bra. Of course, with the silence came the worries that had stayed buried under a pile of drunken chatter for the past several hours. If this marriage didn’t work out… but no, that thought was too cynical even for her. Emmy resolutely pushed it away, blinked back unexpected tears, breathed deep. She knew Victor well enough by now, and he was great. She could admit to herself that he matched the description Sex Psychic Lucy had provided all those months ago, but that was hardly proof of ESP. Plenty of people fit those characteristics. She was beginning to drift off into a post-party coma when her phone lit up. May was calling. Was something wrong? They’d only left the party a half hour ago. She hit answer.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, I have a favor to ask you.”
Emmy could hear the murmur of the bar in the background, so May was clearly still at her party. In the bathroom maybe. “What favor?”
“Go see Lucy.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m really not. Monday is your day off, right? Go into the Cities and talk to her. Tell her I sent you. I bet she’ll remember me. You could at least do me a solid and tell her about Victor, thank her for me.”
“May, listen…”
“No. I don’t have time to listen to all your reasons why you won’t do this one harmless thing. I have to get back before my friends get worried that I’m throwing up or having a meltdown or something. Just go. You can be there and back in a couple hours. If she tries to charge you a ton of money, you can walk right back out. But you need to do this. You need to remember what it’s like to have fun and be a little reckless. Maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
