Chapter 1
(Ley Lines & Fae Lines: Book 3 in the Lola and Twink series - a work in progress)
I may have vowed to stay with him in sickness and in health, but those vows never mentioned what happens if he turns into a perpetual butthead. I look at him sometimes, sincerely wondering what I ever saw in him, and that scares me.
The funny (not funny ha-ha, funny strange) thing about it is, I’ve done so many readings for clients at Raven’s shop looking for relationship advice. They (mostly women, but some men) come in asking if their spouse is cheating or if their marriage should end. I hate when they ask that, because that’s a lot to put on a psychic reading. What if I’m wrong?
Inaccurate information can destroy lives, so unless I see a solid ‘YES’ in flaming letters, I sidestep the question and ask them to reword it into a positive like, “What do you see in my field that will help my marital situation?” That way I’m asking their guides to offer suggestions as to how they can be happier, not more miserable or … perhaps … murderous or suicidal.
If I do see a flaming YES, I still don’t come right out and say their partner is cheating. Instead, I’ll say something like, “Why don’t you begin living as if the relationship was ending … see what it feels like to think about not sharing a home … what would you do if your time was your own? Start doing things that make you happy again and if you drift away from that relationship, then there’s the answer to the question you’re really asking.”
I know it’s frustrating for a sitter to hear a non-answer like that, but bitches be crazy sometimes and I’m not going to be responsible for a newspaper headline.
Doing readings for others doesn’t work the same as my asking that same question in my own life. If I was able to easily see the flaming letters between me and Chuck, we wouldn’t have drifted this far off track.
I don’t think he’s cheating … my psychic skills are way too tuned for that to slip past me, especially in light of Melinda’s efforts to break us up. Even dear Seth, if I’m honest, tried to drive a sexual wedge between us (although he was under Melinda’s spell at the time, so I’m still pinning it on her).
So, yeah, I’m not worried that Chuck is dipping his wick elsewhere, it’s that … I just don’t like him anymore. And I’m not sure he likes me, either. I don’t want a divorce, but neither do I want to be married. I don’t know what happened. I can’t pinpoint a direct cause, so it’s hard to know how to fix it.
Raven says we’re all blind to our own wounds because they’re so interwoven into the fabric of who we are. We cannot see the forest for the trees. I’m lost in the forest with someone I would rather wasn’t there.
Here’s a perfect example…
Maddie called this morning and asked me to go with her on a 10-day trip to England, and she wants to go next week. She’s attending an estate sale, and I don’t mean a death estate like we call it here in the States. This is an actual English estate, like Downton Abbey. She’s practically salivating to get her mitts on some truly old antiques to sell in her store.
Her man Paul can’t go with her because of his work schedule, and she doesn’t want to go alone. She offered to pay my way … all expenses. “You know I can afford it,” she reminded me, “the cost is just a drop in the bucket, nothing considering how much fun we’d have. We’ll rent a car in London and drive across the gorgeous English countryside, wind in our hair, sheep in the road, and rub elbows with charming gentlemen. You can’t say no to an offer like this!”
Indeed, I cannot, but do you think Chuck agrees? If so, you’d be wrong.
“What are Amanda and I going to do while you’re gone for two weeks?” he pouted when I told him, as he sat waiting in his dining room chair while I placed dinner on the table.
Maybe I should have broached the subject like I would have in my younger days, when I would serve a special meal to butter him up. It didn’t even occur to me to do so this time. I guess I was too tired to consider that I might have to be manipulative. Besides, he doesn’t get to tell me what to do, so I wasn’t asking permission. I was telling him what was going to happen.
This, too, is a sign of how our relationship is changing … maybe even dissolving. I used to care about getting his go-ahead for big things.
“Well, first, it’s ten days, not two weeks,” I replied. “Both you and Amanda are capable of fending for yourselves for ten days.”
“Yeah, but who’s going to do your chores?” he asked. “I don’t know how to do laundry or grocery shop, not to mention cooking dinners for two weeks. Neither does Amanda.”
“Maybe it’s time you both learn. Besides, it’s ten days,” I reminded him, through slightly gritted teeth.
“Fine!” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “Ten days! That’s still a long time!”
I could not believe he was being such a baby. “Are you saying you cannot survive without me for a mere week and a half?” I stomped over to the kitchen junk drawer and pulled out a stack of carry-out menus, which I then slapped down on the table in front of him. “Take out and frozen dinners are your friends.”
Shifting the argument, he replied, “And going with Maddie … you two get into things … you know, all that psychic mumbo jumbo with the faeries and whatnot. I don’t need to be worrying about what you’re up to on the other side of the world.”
“It’s not Maddie that stirs the pot,” I reminded him. “It’s that damned Melinda. Every time I’ve gotten into trouble, it’s due to her. And she’s not a part of our lives anymore. No one has seen or heard from her since the summer of the fire at Raven’s shop. Even Seth hasn’t heard from her. He’s happily ensconced in running Maddie’s antique store and neither Raven nor I have had any psychic inklings that she’s even thinking about us.”
It was true. Ever since Seth recovered from Melinda’s psychic attack, and I began doing readings at Karma Korner, Melinda has been completely out of our thoughts. Maybe it’s because of the protective field I’ve learned to build.
Hold on … Twink just tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Credit where credit is due …”
So, yeah, it’s also because of Twink and Precious Pea, and Myx and Maj … and Jennett and Olfen … and whoever else I’m forgetting from the land of the Fae.
Not finished peeing in my Wheaties, Chuck came back with another question, “Why does it have to be such a long trip? Surely an estate sale doesn’t last …” he caught himself before repeating the ‘two weeks’ trope “… ten days.”
“Maddie says we need to allow for travel,” I explained. “She said two of those days will be taken up by the long flights alone, and we should allow a day to recover from jet lag. Then we have to drive across southern England to the estate, and …” this is where I hesitated, because I knew this would be a sticking point, “… on the way back, she wants to spend a couple days in some town called Glastonbury.”
I was right. Chuck immediately pounced on that tidbit of information. “So, this isn’t just a business trip in search of antiques. You two will be lollygagging as well.”
I rolled my eyes and didn’t bother to take the bait.
“Look,” I said instead, “Maddie is paying for the whole thing and if she wants to spend a couple days as a tourist while she’s in another country, can you blame her? It’s not like it’s going to cost you anything.”
“That’s another thing,” he argued, “I don’t like taking charity from her … and I certainly don’t want Paul knowing that his … woman … is paying for mine. He’s one of my most important clients and I don’t want him to think I can’t support my family or send my wife on an expensive trip. And it is expensive, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “That’s why Maddie offered to pay. She knew I couldn’t cough up that much on such short notice. She doesn’t want to go alone and doesn’t want excuses like money to keep me from going with. She makes it sound like I’ll be doing her a favor. You have to remember that Maddie is independently wealthy. She will be paying for it, not Paul.”
“It sounds like you’ve already decided to go,” he harumphed, folding his arms over his chest.
“Yeah,” I said, returning to the kitchen to get the rest of the serving dishes, “it sounds like it, doesn’t it?” I turned toward the stairs and hollered, “Amanda! Come and eat.”
Once I heard the sound of our teen-aged daughter’s feet shuffling overhead, I finished laying dinner on the table and sat across from Chuck. As he scooped food onto his plate and dug in, stuffing his face, I wondered what it would be like to have my own apartment. I asked myself if my happiness bugs him. In flaming letters, I saw my answer.
And that scared me.
To follow along, you’ll want to first meet Lola and Twink in A Faery on My Shoulder and The Faery Falls. They’re only $4.44 each on Kindle (also available in paperback), or I’m happy to gift you an e-copy if money’s tight — just promise to pay it forward by being a supportive reader, sharing posts, or sprinkling encouragement.
Lisa Bonnice is the co-author of Fear of Our Father, now a Lifetime Original movie (Monster in the Family). Beyond true crime, her fiction explores the mysteries that shape us—from the humor-and-heart metaphysical comedies A Faery on My Shoulder and The Faery Falls to Castle Gate, a genealogy-based historical novel about ancestral healing and resilience, available in both print and audio.
Lisa hosts the podcast NOW with Lisa Bonnice and writes about the intersection of truth, transformation, and storytelling. Learn more at lisabonnice.com.