Chapter One
Herbrowscrunchedinfrustration, Gemma plucked a selenite wand from behind a grinning happy Buddha. “Honestly, Auntie Z, you’ve got to organize your crystals. They’re scattered all over the shop.”
Gemma’s aunt, proprietor of Madame Zora’s Psychic Emporium, shrugged and resumed dusting the dragon figurines, her wide hips and dangly earrings swaying to her beloved Arabian flute music. “I always find what I’m looking for—eventually.”
“Gah!” On her last visit to Trappers Cove, Gemma had completely reorganized the shop, and now look at it—a total hodgepodge of incense burners, statuettes, T-shirts, hippie skirts, daggers, candles, and other metaphysical accoutrements. How did customers ever find anything in this magpie’s nest?
She lifted a hunk of storm cloud-gray labradorite to the light and admired its rainbow iridescence. A few deep, centering breaths, and the tightness behind her brow eased. Maybe arranging the tchotchkes would help her coax her own rainbow from the dark clouds hanging over her life. This kitschy little beach town on the Washington coast always served up fresh insight. Easier to breathe here, away from Caleb, his new girlfriend, and all the friends who’d taken his side.
She moved to the register. “How about we clear this display case and put the crystals here? That way, you can keep an eye on them. I’ll bet a lot of these end up in shoplifters’ pockets.”
Zora shrugged again. “If someone needs a stone that badly, let ’em have it.”
Gemma blew an errant curl off her forehead. “Honestly, Auntie. It’s a wonder you even keep the doors open.” Good thing her most recent consulting gig ended last week. Zora’s business was in dire straits.
The brass bell above the entrance tinkled as Marquetta, Zora’s wife, bustled through with three to-go cups and a paper sack. “Holy cats, it’s blowing something fierce today.” She set her load on the counter and retied her wind-loosened scarf. “Coffee break. Brought you crullers from Cassie’s.”
“Mmm. They’re still warm.” Gemma helped herself. Seattle’s trendy doughnut shops couldn’t touch the crispy, sugary perfection of Cassie’s crullers. “Thanks, Auntie M.”
“I like to stretch my legs on my break.” Chuckling, she leaned in close to Gemma’s ear. “Besides, you’re gonna need fuel to sort out this jumble.”
Zora socked her wife’s arm playfully. “Watch yourself, Madam. This is a spiritual space. We don’t want your Dewey Decimal uptightness in here.”
“Well, you need some kind of system, Auntie.” Gemma nudged a coffee across the counter.
“Listen to your niece, babe.” Marquetta pecked Zora’s cheek. “She always has good ideas. See you at dinnertime. There’s lentil stew in the Crockpot.” She let herself out and strode toward the library, her long woolen coat flapping in the wintery wind.
“She’s right, you know.” Zora set down her feather duster and pried the lid from her coffee. “You do have good ideas, dear. I’m glad you were able to clear your schedule for your old auntie.”
Sweet of Zora to pretend this visit was about prepping for next month’s Esoteric Arts Expo and not about Gemma’s recent breakup. Typical Zora—endlessly kind, with an eerie sense of when to press and when to back off.
Zora reached up to dust a set of wind chimes, making the delicate metal tubes tinkle like fairy song. “Customers are always thin after the holidays,” she said with a sigh. “This time of year, I’ve got more bills than profits. I really need to knock that expo out of the ballpark.”
Gemma’s lips stretched in a fond smile as she hugged her aunt’s shoulders. “We’ll put together a display so alluring, no one will be able to pass your stand without buying something.”
Zora chuckled up at her. “Will you wear that witchy dress you wore last time?”
“The green one? Perhaps. I picked up a new outfit in Eugene, before…” Releasing Zora, she took another bite of pastry to push down the lump rising in her throat, but the treat turned to sawdust in her mouth.
Zora patted her shoulder. “You going to tell me what really brought you here, hon?”
Gemma busied herself arranging crystals. “Oh, you know me. Itchy feet.”
“Some tea tree oil will help with that.”
“Ha ha.” She snatched the feather duster from her aunt’s hand and attacked the sparkly stones. “You know what I mean. It was time for a change. Too much sameness clogs my energy.”
“Typical Aquarius.” Zora leaned over the countertop mirror and fluffed her halo of salt and pepper hair. “What happened to that nice young man in Eugene?”
No use pretending her aunt didn’t know exactly what sent Gemma scurrying back to Trappers Cove, the seaside Washington town where she’d spent her childhood summers. “Caleb? He, uh—”Dumped me. It hurts.She cleared her throat to smooth the wobble from her voice. “He found someone new.”
After three years of long-distance dating, punctuated by too-infrequent visits to Eugene, where Caleb taught at the University of Oregon, he’d let her down so tenderly there was nothing she could do but wish him well, then dash to her Jeep and steer for the coast. The ocean always gave her clarity, even in the depths of a blustery Pacific Northwest winter.
Straightening her shoulders, she pasted on a facsimile of a smile. “She seems nice, his new friend. I’m happy for him.”
Zora gently pried the feather duster from her white-knuckled grip. “Darling, the world won’t end if you admit you’re hurting.”
“Who says I’m hurting? I’m just ready for something new.”
