New Winslow S8E62
There were customers in Iris’s shop again. Once she’d finished the repairs and reopened, it had been so quiet for so long that she was afraid the damage was done. To the point where she’d been considering whether it was worth selling everything and trying again somewhere else. She had options, even if it didn’t always feel like it. Her folks were in Pennsylvania, maybe she could go stay with them for a little while. Or she could move to Salem and become one of hundreds of psychics selling crystals and fortunes along cobblestoned streets.
Not that she was the only one in New Winslow these days, either. Not that she’d ever been, with Celine here. But after Olivia’s latent powers had come in, and then whatever the hell had happened with Noah, Iris couldn’t ever know for sure anymore. And had Roman mentioned his kid too? Maybe she should start counting who in New Winslow wasn’t psychic.
But just as she’d started browsing apartments in Wilkes-Barre, people started coming back. It was slow at first, just a few regulars who expressed their happiness that the place was open again. Then a few new people, ones she didn’t recognize. The curse had been a draw for some, but maybe the news that it was broken was pulling in a few who hadn’t dared come by before.
Jennifer Declan from the town council had dropped a small fortune here this morning. Possibly out of guilt, Iris wasn’t quite sure. After all, it wasn’t like Baxter’s connection to the curse was secret anymore. Whether people around town really cared or discussed it at all was a different story, but it was out there.
And Baxter was gone. According to Jennifer, he’d resigned from the council from the hospital. And though they were in the process of figuring things out, it looked like she would take his place as president. Iris got a flicker of New Hampshire when she thought about Baxter, but didn’t want to dig any further. She wanted to be done with him, especially since they hadn’t been able to connect him to the Limerick fire with enough proof to actually do anything. If he was up there atoning like Rosalind had said, then she’d leave him to it. And if he wasn’t, Iris was sure she’d find out someday.
The fact that she was thinking about her terrible biology teacher like this still weirded her out.
Her shop was locked up for the night now, after her busiest day in recent history. As Iris made her dinner with music playing on her phone, a text glowed up at her from Andrew. Nothing big, just a spell he was trying in his new apartment, but the vibes weren’t quite right for it yet. She sent a couple suggestions, as well as an update on how business had gone that day, then turned back to the chicken and rice soup bubbling on the stove.
ANDREW
See? Some small marketing adjustments will do that for you.
He was right, but that didn’t mean she had to acknowledge it as she brought her soup over to the kitchen table.
Her laptop was open and Iris went through her email as she waited for the soup to cool. Mostly ads, along with a few newsletters she was actually interested in keeping up with. And then she saw it, just as she was about to highlight the whole page to delete.
Subject: Help Needed
Dear Ms. Davies,
My name is Cara, I’m a homeowner in Dalton, Massachusetts. A friend of mine referred me to you, saying you helped her with a similar situation about three years ago. I don’t know if you remember Virginia McLaurie, but she highly recommends your services.
I own three acres of property, most of it highly wooded with a couple structures that have been in place since the 1890s. Ever since I bought the property last April, there have been phenomena that I can’t explain. I’ve lived in haunted places before, so I didn’t think much of it. But now something has killed one of my goats and torn down the shed that I just put up. And it’s in my house, I can feel the change in the energy. I know it’s something paranormal and I want to get a professional in to deal with it. Would you be able to come out to my house to cleanse the property? Please get back to me as soon as you can, any time day or night. Money is not an issue.
Sincerely,
Cara Bertrand
Cara Bertrand’s phone number was at the bottom. Iris looked at the clock. Eight oh five. Normally, she would never call a potential client this late, but Cara had said any time of night. As well as that money was not an issue, which made extending her workday that much more enticing. So Iris reached for her phone, turned off the music, and dialed Cara Betrand’s number. Someone picked up after the first ring.
“Hi, is this Cara?”
“Yes?” The woman sounded hesitant, like so many of her first time clients did.
“Hi Cara, this is Iris Davies, calling about your email.”
“Iris!” the woman exclaimed. “Oh, I’m so relieved to hear from you. Thank you so much for calling!”
“Of course,” Iris said, pulling a notepad over and knocking her soup off the table in the process. It splattered all over the old kitchen tile, the bowl bouncing loudly, and Iris ignored it as she reached for a pen. “How about you tell me what’s going on?”
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It was about two in the morning and fairly chilly in Andrew’s bedroom. He was awake, but not overly concerned about it. He was working tomorrow and normally he would be stressing about the fact that he only had seven hours until he had to be seated in his cubicle at his new job. And he need about forty minutes to get there from here, and forty minutes before that to get ready.
But he wasn’t worried, not really. Instead, he was lying in his bed, listening to the sounds of the city outside. Even right now, in their fairly residential neighborhood, there was still movement. Cars came past and groups of college kids laughed as they walked past the building. Headlights streamed into his window, cutting across the wall and disappearing as they hit the wardrobe. Everything about it felt right.
Tomorrow he’d go to work, then come home and pack up for a night in New Winslow. He didn’t need to be at work until two on Wednesday, so he wouldn’t need to leave obscenely early to get there. They’d work out some of the new plans with the Limerick while he was in town, but mostly he and Cleo were going to go there just to spend some time with Liv and Noah.
Not having Noah here tonight stung and Andrew was going to have to get used to that if they were going to make this work. He wasn’t going to live in New Winslow and Noah wasn’t going to live in Boston. So the nights alone were going to have to be more frequent than either of them would like.
But it wasn’t that far, not really. Like Noah had said, it wasn’t the distance that had been the problem. And who knew what the future would bring? This arrangement was working for them for now.
So for now, Andrew was alone in bed, enjoying the way he was back where he belonged. He missed Noah tonight and he knew from the text he’d received at midnight (ridiculous, Noah had to be at the clinic early tomorrow, so why was he up?) that Noah missed him too. And for tonight, Andrew was alright with that.
But really, he should attempt to get some sleep.
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