Tease Me (28 page)

“I want to find out for sure,” Callie said. “And I want you both to come with me.”

Lana laughed. “All right. But if we find out she’s legit, we all have to have our
fortunes told. Agreed?”

The other two girls nodded, though they appeared less than enthusiastic.

“Theodora” sat behind a silk-draped table with a crystal ball in front of her, as
if she’d been waiting just for these three customers. She looked convincingly Gypsyish
in a peasant blouse and multicolored tiered skirt, bangles on her wrist and a scarf
covering her thick black hair.

She smiled warmly at the trio of new customers. “Well, now, what do we have here?
Did you come to find out which boy will ask you to the prom?”

Lana glanced nervously at Callie. Hadn’t they just been talking about that very thing?

“Actually, Miss, uh, Ms. Theodora, this is an official visit,” Callie said. “I’m head
of the Carnival Committee student division, and these are my committee members.” She
pushed her wire-rimmed glasses to the bridge of her nose once more and consulted her
clipboard. “You aren’t on my list.”

“My, aren’t you the official one,” Theodora said, still smiling. To Lana and Millicent
she added in a loud stage whisper, “I’ll bet nothing gets by this one, eh? She probably
dots all her i’s and crosses the t’s.”

Millicent covered her mouth to disguise her smile, and Lana laughed out loud, stopping
only when Callie scowled at her.

“You’re the skeptical type,” Theodora continued, looking at Callie. “You love to ask
questions and you can’t stand an unsolved mystery. You would make a very good newspaper
reporter.”

“H-how did you know that?” Callie asked.

Lana was surprised too. She knew that Callie was planning a career in journalism.

“I know all kinds of things.” Theodora wiggled her eyebrows mysteriously. “Would you
like to hear more?”

“I’d like to hear who gave you permission to set up here,” Callie persisted. “You’re
not on my—”

“Chill out, Callie,” Lana said. Callie was such a
stickler for correct procedures. “I’d like to hear more. Can you tell me who I’ll
go to the prom with?” She briefly pictured herself on the arm of a tall, dark-haired
boy … but the image dissolved when she couldn’t picture Sloan in a tux. Anyway, he
didn’t do school functions.

Theodora gazed into her crystal ball while Callie pulled a small pad and pen from
the back pocket of her jeans. “I see you going to the prom with a football player,”
Theodora said.

Lana sighed. Maybe Bart
would
ask her. So he was a little overbearing and stuck on himself. She would still have
a fun time if she went to the prom with him, and her mother would be pleased.

Theodora looked up at Lana. “You have many talents, you know,” she said. “I see you
surrounded by flowers.”

Lana giggled. “I hope that means Bart will bring me a big ol’ corsage for the dance.
Now, what about Millicent?” She pulled her friend forward. “Who’s she gonna go with?”

Millicent sighed. “I don’t need a fortune-teller to give me that answer. I won’t be
going.”

Theodora peered into the ball. “I see you painting. You have such talent!”

“I’ll probably be painting the prom decorations,” Millicent said wistfully.

“Oh, who cares about this silly prom business,” Lana interrupted, refusing to allow
Millicent to focus on her lack of a love life. “We want to know who we’re
going to marry. Right?” She looked to the other two girls for confirmation.

“Gee, I’m not sure I want to know.…” Millicent said, but Theodora was already staring
into her crystal ball.

The Gypsy was quiet for a long time while the girls waited nervously. Then, to Lana’s
surprise, Theodora looked up and recited a poem:

Lana blinked and shook her head, trying to clear it. Had Theodora cast a spell on
them or something? Lana felt thoroughly spooked, and she knew without a doubt which
line of the poem was meant for her. She never dated any boy for longer than a few
weeks because she always lost interest—
except with Sloan
, she thought, then pushed the thought aside. Her mother had told her a hundred times
that she was going to fritter away her youth and beauty if she didn’t set her sights
now on good husband material.

So Lana would be the one to tarry, and lose her chance at love.

“The poem’s nice, but it’s not very helpful,” Lana pointed out. “I want a name. How
will I know my future husband when I meet him?”

Theodora smiled. “No problem. Everyone who has
her fortune told by Theodora gets a souvenir. These mementos will help you recognize
the man who will make you happy.” She reached under the table and pulled out a cardboard
box that appeared to be filled with gum-machine toys and other plastic junk. She rummaged
around in it for a moment, then held out her hand toward Callie.

Callie, her expression still filled with skepticism, nonetheless reached out and accepted
Theodora’s gift. It was a plastic key chain in the shape of a cowboy boot.

Lana bit her lower lip. Did this fortune-teller, this stranger, somehow know about
Callie’s Sam, who worked at his great-uncle’s ranch?

“I’m not marrying anyone who wears cowboy boots,” Callie said, folding her arms. Theodora
merely gave her a knowing smile.

Lana actually trembled as Theodora handed her a “souvenir,” hoping to get an equally
clear directive, but it didn’t make much sense to her. It was a cheap toy policeman’s
badge.

Theodora had to search a bit longer for something to give Millicent. She finally came
up with a small bottle made of brown glass. Lana had seen such bottles in antique
shops.

As the three girls studied their gifts, Theodora quietly stood and walked to the back
of her booth.

“Hey, where’d she go?” Callie asked.

Lana pointed to the wavering curtain in the rear of the, booth. “Back there.”

Callie lunged forward, with Lana hot on her heels
and Millicent close behind. Callie pulled back the curtain, but no one was there.

The girls stepped outside the booth, looked around corners, under tables. There was
no glimpse of Theodora.

“This way!” Callie suddenly said, pointing toward the back door of the gym. They all
three took off at a run in hot pursuit of the fortune-teller. But outside, again they
found no sign of her.

“I knew it,” Callie said, breathing hard. “I knew she was some kind of charlatan.”

“I didn’t think she was so bad,” Lana said. “She told our fortunes for free.”

“We’ll have to go to Mr. Stipley,” Callie said. “Something’s definitely fishy.”

They went back into the gymnasium, but almost before the door slammed behind them,
Callie skidded to a stop so suddenly that Lana ran into her, and Millicent did the
same. Lana imagined they resembled the Keystone Kops.

“Look,” Callie whispered. She pointed toward Theodora’s booth—or, rather, the place
where Theodora’s booth had stood a minute or two earlier. Now there was no sign of
red silk or glitter. A dart game occupied the space.

The three girls stared at one another, and Lana felt a prickling of fear. Her friends
had to be thinking the same thing she was—that there was no way anyone could have
moved Theodora’s booth that quickly.

“D-did we just have a group hallucination?” Millicent squeaked. Her face was downright
pasty.

Lana opened her hand. The tin policeman’s badge glittered bewitchingly at her, mute
testimony to the fact that she hadn’t dreamed her visit with Theodora. She saw that
her friends still had their prizes too.

“I’m not sure what it was,” Callie said. “But I don’t think we should tell anyone
about it.”

“Agreed,” the other two girls said together. They all clasped hands. Lana felt a shiver,
and she knew that what had just transpired would somehow prove to be very important
in her life.

ONE

Rain poured down on the windshield in murky sheets. Lana Gaston flipped the wipers
up to high, continuing her creep along the dark, narrow lane that led to St. Theresa’s
Church. She would have pulled her Mercedes onto the nearest side street to wait out
the storm, but she was already running late, and she loathed the idea of her tardiness
holding up the wedding.

“Think we’ll have a tornado?” her eight-year-old son asked hopefully, tugging at the
collar of the new button-down shirt she’d coerced him into wearing. “That would be
really cool.”

“It’s a little late in the year for tornadoes,” Lana answered. Then she smiled. Given
the turbulent relationship between the bride and groom, a tornado for their wedding
would be almost apropos.

She glanced skyward. “Just kidding,” she murmured toward heaven. “I don’t really want
a tornado.
In fact, I’d really really appreciate it if you’d let up on the rain a little so I
can make it to the church.”

The only response she got was a rabbit darting across the road in front of her. She
slammed on the brakes. The aging Mercedes skidded on the slick pavement, performing
a perfect one-eighty while Lana struggled with the steering wheel for control.

Her efforts were useless. After what seemed like an eternity of screeching tires and
dizzying maneuvers, the car ended up nose down in a culvert, facing the wrong way.

The engine died with a groan. For several seconds all Lana could hear was the rain
pounding on her roof and her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Rob, are you okay?”

“Awesome driving, Mom.”

“Hey, we’re alive, aren’t we?” she snapped back, relief warring with frustration.
“Did you want me to run over the bunny rabbit?”

“No, I guess not. Sorry.”

She immediately regretted her temper. Rob, unfortunately, was only parroting his father,
using the tone of voice and the sarcasm Bart would have used if he were there. “No,
sweetie, I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just upset about being late for Callie’s wedding.”

“Can’t you call her on the cellular?”

“The cell phone isn’t working right now,” Lana confessed. She’d had to cancel her
contract because she couldn’t afford it anymore. It seemed like lately she couldn’t
afford a whole lot, not since Bart’s child support payments had been so drastically
reduced. She
couldn’t blame him. She’d agreed to the payment schedule during their divorce. It
was just that she’d thought she would have a better job by now, and her school tuition
and books ate up a lot of her income.

“Maybe we can walk the rest of the way,” Rob suggested.

Lana appreciated the fact that her son was trying to solve the problem. “We could
if it weren’t raining so hard. I refuse to show up for Callie and Sam’s wedding looking
like a drowned rat.”

Rob sighed. “I wish you’d just let me stay at Dad’s instead of coming to this stupid
wedding.”

“We’ve been planning this for a long time,” Lana explained patiently. “Your dad has
plans this weekend, remember? It’s Charlene’s birthday.” Charlene being his former
secretary and current applicant for wife number two.

“Big deal. Why didn’t you just leave me at home with a sitter, then? I’m missing
The Simpsons.
”

“Because I wanted you with me. And Callie wanted you at her wedding. She’s just about
my best friend, you know, and she’s your friend too. She came to your birthday party
and your cello recital arid your swim meets and your football games. Don’t you want
to be there on this most important day of her life?”

Rob didn’t answer, but his silence spoke quite eloquently. He’d rather be in front
of the tube, zoned out on his favorite show. Or at his father’s, where he could run
wild and do whatever he pleased, eat ice cream for dinner, and play with his expensive
toys. He’d rather
be anywhere but spending time with his boring, crabby mother.

A flash of headlights brought her back to her present dilemma. Yes! Probably someone
headed for the wedding too. She could hitch a ride and worry about the car later.
She opened her window, stuck out her red umbrella, and waved it frantically at the
approaching motorist.

The car slowed. Please let it be her knight in shining armor, she prayed, and not
some lowlife murderer-rapist-kidnapper. Not that Destiny, Texas, harbored a lot of
those, but you could never be sure. After all, only two days earlier Callie’s soon-to-be
sister-in-law had been arrested on suspicion of murder. But stuff like that didn’t
happen very often around there.

As the car pulled to the side of the road in front of her, a bank of red and blue
flashing lights burst to life. A police officer, Lana realized with a surge of relief.
Most of them were okay.

The driver’s door opened and the officer emerged, looking large and reassuring in
his blue uniform and black slicker. As he walked toward her in an easy, loose-limbed
gait, he pulled a flashlight from his belt and flipped it on.