“Are you ready to go in there? Mr. Grimm is already there waiting for you.”
“Sure, let’s do it.” Cope was ready to read for the group assembled.
Cam opened the double doors and escorted Cope into the ballroom. Chairs were set up in rows of five, with two seats at the front of the room. Ten sat in one. He was typing something on his phone.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Ten stood and hugged Cope. “Everything okay?”
Cope nodded. “Cam asked about his Gram, who was funny as hell. Felt good to reunite them.”
“It always does,” Ten agreed. He took the microphone Cam offered and switched it on. “Hello, PsychicFest!”
“Hey, everyone, I’m Cope Forbes and this is Tennyson Grimm. How many of you have been to a group reading before?”
Several hands shot into the air.
“Good, so a lot of you know how this is going to work. Ten and I can’t guarantee your loved ones will appear, but we’re going to get to as many souls as we can.”
“Let’s start with Kathy. That’s Kathy with a K,” Ten said. “She’s saying something about a wedding going off the rails.”
A young woman in the third row raised her hand. “My aunt saw my new husband and one of my bridesmaids getting it on in the coat room. She took pictures, and showed them on the big screen. I vowed never to speak to her again and I didn’t. Not until today.”
Cope was able to see what happened that day in living color. Not only had the groom been boning the bridesmaid that day, but had been doing if for about six months prior to the wedding.“Your aunt wants you to know that she never meant to hurt you, she just wanted you to know what kind of man you married.”
“She admits that there was definitely a more tactful way to share the news and photos with you,” Ten added.
“She was right,” the young woman said, wiping away tears. “Brett somehow made me believe that Aunt Kathy was lying and that the pictures were fake, but three months later, I caught him banging our housekeeper, in our bed. I was able to get the marriage annulled, but I went through so much needless heartbreak. If I’d just listened to her from the start…”
“Sometimes we have to make our own mistakes in order to grow,” Cope said. “You’re in a much better position now with Todd.”
“My aunt knows about Todd?”
“She does and wants you to know he’s perfect for you, so stop doubting yourself and your instincts.” Ten grinned at the young woman. “We wish you all the best in your future.”
The group applauded. Cope was about to announce the next spirit begging to come through when Heidi Jackson entered the room alone. She hurried to an empty seat at the very back of the room. Cope could feel the grief and desperation rolling off her.
“Okay, we’ve got Hank, who’s very pissed off about his tools. Does anyone know Hank?”
An older man in the second row raised his hand. “Hank’s my father. I’m Stu.”
“Hi Stu! Tell us about the tools,” Cope urged, already knowing the story. Hank was one of the angriest spirits he’d ever encountered. He usually didn’t get involved with that sort of spirit, but had a hunch, he and Ten could turn things around.
“My father was a woodworker. He made beds, chairs, tables, you name it. He was very talented and built up quite a clientele for himself over the years. He always used to tell me the business would be mine when he died, but the problem was that I didn’t want it.”
“That’s the fucking understatement of the century,” Hank sneered. “Boy didn’t know what a good thing he had. He let all my hard work go to shit before I was even cold in my grave.”
“Hank’s chewing my ear off, saying that you had a good thing, but let it go to ruin.” Cope hated seeing the grief-stricken look on the young man’s face.
“Yeah, that’s my father. Like I said before, he had so much talent. He had more in his little finger than I did in my entire body. I was a numbers guy, a math whiz. I was a member of the math team when I was twelve years old. I still hold the record for being the youngest member. I was able to help my father with the math side of furniture building, but when it came to using the lathe to make chair spindles, I was useless.”
“Not just useless, but disinterested. He shit on all my hard work, so that he could go off and work on equations, which, if you ask me, were much more useless than chair making.” Hank didn’t sound quite as angry as he had minutes ago.
“Your father said you ruined the business,” Ten prompted. “What happened there?”
“I didn’truinthe business, Mr. Grimm. I sold it to a man named Herb Wilton,” Stu said.
“My biggest fucking rival. My idiot son sold my business to the one man who hated me from top to toe.”
“Hank says Herb was his biggest rival.”
