Misty (11 page)

“I can eat when the nurse gets here. Where're you going?”

“Second interview at the site where the new prison is being built.”

“What new prison?”

“I keep forgetting you've been out of it for so long, you don't know about the different things going on in the area. You know they shut down twenty-three schools in Philadelphia; they cut out sports and art programs and laid off four thousand teachers, yet the state is spending millions to build a new prison in Collegeville. Folks are pissed, saying that since they're depriving kids of a proper education, they won't have any choice but to end up incarcerated in the new prison. It's in Montgomery County—only a thirty-minute drive from here. It pays thirty an hour. Not bad, right?”

“That's good, but don't get too comfortable working there.”

“Why not? Do you see me hitting the lottery in the future?” Brick joked.

“I need you to work with me once I get my business up and running. I'll pay you a whole lot more than thirty an hour.”

“Is that right?” Brick said, smiling as he indulged Misty's fantasy.

“You think I'm playing, but you'll soon see how serious I am.”

Still smiling, Brick strolled toward the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

B
rick wasn't hired for the construction job in Montgomery County, but he did get a job at a site in Old City, Philadelphia. Eager to start earning a living, he left the apartment at practically dawn. Audrey, the home care nurse, arrived at seven and was scheduled to care for Misty for four hours. She dressed and groomed Misty, prepared breakfast for her, and dispensed her meds. Then she transferred her to her wheelchair, planning to park her in front of the TV for the remaining hours of her shift.

Audrey never commented when the tiny prickles occurred whenever her flesh connected with Misty's. Apparently, she hadn't read the article about Misty and maybe she hadn't noticed. Whatever the case, Misty was glad the nurse didn't pester her with a request for a reading. She'd seen Audrey's boring life review, but oddly, hadn't seen the woman's future. It didn't matter, Audrey's future was no doubt as boring as she was.

Audrey was in her mid-thirties, but had an old lady way about her. She wore big, goofy, thick-lensed glasses. Her complexion was dreadful with acne scars on her cheeks and a fresh cluster of adult acne on her forehead and chin. Her crinkly-textured hair was pulled tightly into a plain, low bun. Her clothing was dreary and shapeless and she wore black, orthopedic-looking nurse's shoes. Audrey was the epitome of old-fashioned, and with those thick glasses, she reminded Misty of an ugly schoolteacher she'd once
had named Ms. Peabody. Laughing to herself, Misty began calling Audrey “Ms. Peabody” in her mind.

Misty fiddled with her iPad while Audrey knitted something uninteresting and chuckled through a rerun of
Two and a Half Men.
The doorbell chimed, startling both of them.

Audrey eyed the door suspiciously. “Are you expecting company?”

“Looking like this?” Misty pointed to her bandaged face and scowled beneath the gauze.

The doorbell sounded over and over, as if someone was persistently jabbing the button.

“Someone sure is impatient,” Audrey remarked. “It's probably one of those cable companies trying to get you to switch.” She grudgingly hefted herself out of the chair and moved swiftly toward the door, intent on getting rid of the annoying salesperson.

“Hello. I'm here to see Ms. Delagardo,” said the familiar soft-spoken voice that Misty had only heard over the phone. Gavin had taken it upon himself to come to her apartment, unannounced and uninvited. His money allowed him to take liberties, she supposed.

“And who should I say is here to see her?” the nurse inquired.

“Tell Ms. Delagardo that her secret admirer is here,” Gavin said in a joking tone, apparently unwilling to divulge his identity.

“He's a friend of mine; let him in,” Misty said in a voice as loud as she could manage with bandages nearly covering her mouth.

Gavin glided toward her with the entitled air of those who've inherited wealth, and Misty was instantly struck by his golden handsomeness. Well over six feet tall, his frosted blond hair hung past his chin and was coifed in a style that looked carefully tousled. His pale gold slacks matched the highlights in his hair and his china blue silk shirt, which complemented his eyes, billowed behind him, giving him the appearance of a nobleman from a previous century—a count, a duke, or perhaps a marquis.

Misty glanced at the gold watch on his wrist and imagined it must have cost as much as a luxury car. He reeked of money and unlike some rich folks who downplayed their wealth, slopping around in faded jeans and T-shirts, Gavin had a great sense of style and was very well put together in rich fabrics and expensive, sparkling jewelry.

“Well, well. Aren't you a striking figure,” Misty quipped. “You look so aristocratic, I feel like I should be addressing you as Sir Gavin.”

Pleased by the compliment, Gavin pursed his lips, suppressing a proud smile.

“Have a seat.” Misty pointed to the lone chair that had been occupied by the nurse.

“Would you two like some coffee or tea?” Audrey asked, needing to occupy herself now that the unexpected visitor had made himself comfortable in the only chair in the living room.

“Nothing for me, but I'd like to speak to Ms. Delagardo in private, if you don't mind,” Gavin said, his sultry mouth turned down apologetically.

“Oh, all right; I'll watch TV in the bedroom,” Audrey said and gathered the big canvas bag that contained her yarn and needles.

In an authoritative tone, Gavin said to Audrey, “Why don't you take a thirty-minute break? Go outside and get some fresh air,” he suggested.

“Sure, if that's okay with you, Misty?”

“I don't mind. Why don't you make it a forty-five-minute break? Gavin and I have a lot to talk about,” Misty replied.

Gavin's blue eyes swept around the apartment, making sure Audrey had vacated the premises before he spoke. “I hate to barge in on you like this…especially while you're convalescing,” he began, “but I'm dying to get a reading. I had a dream last night that Randolph
and I were back together and I'm so excited, I had to see you and hear every detail about the wonderful future my beloved and I are going to share.” He eagerly scooted to the edge of his seat, intertwining his long, elegant fingers.

Misty wasn't in the mood to do a reading. The flashes of light that accompanied the images had become blindingly painful since the surgery. But she couldn't refuse the man who had financed her new face, and so she lifted her good arm as high as she could, and said, “Give me your hand.”

Gavin gently grasped Misty's crippled hand and uttered a soft gasp when he felt the sting. Misty closed her eyes and winced as the flashing lights preceded the slide show of Gavin's life.

She saw Gavin as a baby wearing a Philadelphia Flyers shirt and knit cap. He was crying as if offended by the hockey attire. Time progressed and he looked to be around seven or eight, and there he was, wearing a football uniform, out on the field, holding a football, limply. Misty got the impression he would have been more comfortable holding a Barbie doll. During his college years, Gavin looked much more comfortable in his skin. He was a dashing young man, the center of attention in his small circle of eccentric friends, artsy types. And later, she observed him fall in love for the first time with a Frenchman while vacationing in Paris.

Misty closed her eyes tightly as she viewed Gavin's future. There were two people struggling in the shadows, Gavin and someone else. Gavin hit the floor. “Christ,” she muttered upon realizing that yet another violent future was unfolding before her all-seeing eyes. She was grateful for the bandages that hid the grimace on her face as she watched a silver candelabra being wielded like a weapon. The candelabra was covered in blood and blond hairs. Was it Gavin's hair? Misty wondered. Was someone going to bash
in Gavin's skull? Oh, for fuck's sake, how was she supposed to tell him this bullshit?

Misty opened her eyes, inhaling in gasps and exhaling frantically, as if she'd emerged from battle. The readings exhausted her, but viewing bloody, murderous visions made her pulse race and it was beginning to take a toll on her emotional well-being.

Gavin sat grim-faced on the edge of the chair, as if he knew his future was fraught with horror. “Misty, you seem petrified. Something rattled you terribly. What was it; did you see something ominous? Please tell me what you saw,” he urged her anxiously.

“I…uh, I saw you as a baby dressed in a hockey uniform. And when you were older, maybe eight or nine, I saw you playing football without much enthusiasm.”

“Ugh. I've always hated seeing baby pictures of me dressed in sportswear, and it breaks my heart that my parents forced me to play Little League football when they were clearly aware that I loathed all games that required strength and physical prowess. I tried; I really did,” he whined pitifully, “but my coach hated me and kept me on the bench. And being on the bench was where I belonged; it was my preference. But my dad wanted his boy to play. He threatened the coach and the entire county with a lawsuit if I wasn't allowed to play.”

Gavin swallowed hard and closed his eyes in agony as he recalled the brief period when he attempted to play football. “I was such a disaster on the field; I had no idea of what I was expected to do with that damn football. And running in those heavy cleats…” His words trailed off briefly as he shook his head at the painful memory. “Running in those things was a nightmare. To this day, my gut clenches and my hands shake if I see anything associated with that sport.”

Misty gave her best impression of nodding in understanding when she actually didn't give a damn about Gavin's poor-little- rich-boy childhood. “But you became comfortable with yourself in college,” she said encouragingly. “You found friends with similar interests who accepted you as a gay man.”

“That's so true. You're amazing. How do you see these things? Do you read minds?”

Misty chuckled. “No, I get visuals and feel your sensations during the time period I'm viewing. It's kind of hard to explain.”

“Your process is interesting,” Gavin said, crossing his legs. “So tell me, what else did you see?”

Unable to give a full smile due to the bandages, Misty lifted one side of her mouth and tried to inject warmth into her eyes. “I saw you fall in love for the first time in Paris. The language barrier between you two was not an obstacle. You communicated with your eyes, gestures, and the fiery passion you shared in your hotel room.”

Gavin placed a hand upon his heart and dramatically said, “Philippe, oh Philippe.
Mon amour, mon amour.
How I loved that man. You are spot on, Misty. Philippe couldn't speak a word of English and my French was terrible, but that didn't stop our great love affair.”

“Yes, I sensed that you two were deeply in love.”

“Yes, we were deliriously happy,” Gavin said with emotion, his eyes closed as if enraptured.

“Well, what happened; why did the romance end?” Misty asked, deliberately avoiding any discussion regarding Gavin's disastrous future.

“Our story is as tragic as Romeo and Juliet.” His eyes became watery as he reminisced about his first love. “It was time for me to leave Paris and return to school, where I was studying international finance. What a bore,” Gavin said disdainfully. “But it was
absolutely impossible for me to leave my beloved behind, and so I decided to drop out for a semester, telling my parents that I needed more time in Paris to study art, which was my true passion.

“They indulged me for one semester only, and then insisted I return to the States, threatening to cut off my allowance if I didn't. I couldn't survive without my parents' money, and so I had to tell my dear, sweet and beautiful Philippe goodbye. It was heartbreaking and I despised my insufferable parents for forcing me to abandon my true love. It was as if they'd ripped out a piece of my heart.”

“But you survived and found true love once again, right?”

“Oh, yes. Many times but nothing could compare with the love I shared with that dear, sweet boy.”

“Not even Randolph?”

Gavin's face hardened. “What Randolph and I had was different. He's much older than me, and to be honest, he pretty much stole my youth. I wasted ten good years of my life with that man, and for him to abandon me the way he did is unconscionable.”

“I'm confused; I thought you wanted to find him because you love him.”

“I do love him, but I'm furious with him at the same time. I need an explanation from him.” Gavin dabbed at his eyes, which had filled with tears, again. “What did you see in my future? Do Randolph and I have a happy ending?”

“I'm not sure who the groom was, but I saw you getting married. The wedding was fabulous—really over the top; a platinum wedding and no expense was spared,” Misty lied, telling Gavin something she hoped would delight him.