“He wouldn’t have that magazine without you,” Ari said.
“I know.” I shook my head. “I’ll never forgive him for that.”
Ellison and I had started the magazine together, wanting to focus on the Seattle arts scene. I had done all the hefty lifting, had come up with most of the ideas and the design, but somehow, Ellison emerged as the creative genius. I’d been willing to take the back seat because I loved what we were doing, but when I found out in the divorce proceedings that he had screwed me out of the magazine, I’d lost it and screamed at the judge, which didn’t help my case.
The same with the house. My lawyer managed to get me fifty percent of all our liquid assets, but Ellison had owned the house before we met and though I thought he had put me on the title, I had never checked. He had added that little gem to the prenup too. I came away with enough to live on for a couple years if I was thrifty, but I wanted to keep that in the bank.
“At least my parents’ house is paid for and I only have to pay property taxes and upkeep on it,” I muttered. “So, is the Moonshadow Bay Monitor still in business?”
“Yeah, it is, but Fairweather and his son Idyll are barely making rent. I doubt they’re hiring.” Ari frowned. “I know of a job that’s open, but I’m not sure what you’ll think about it,” she said.
“What is it? Is it in my field?” I perked up, stabbing into my waffle after I drowned it in syrup. I loved waffles and syrup and everything maple.
Ari cleared her throat. She was wearing her Cheshire cat grin of hers, so I knew whatever she was about to suggest would be questionable. “So, I just happen to know the manager of a website about the paranormal. The website actually belongs to a larger network of similar sites. The one based here in Moonshadow Bay is called Conjure Ink. They’re looking for investigative writers.” She grinned, waiting for my response.
I groaned. “You mean like the Star or the Enquirer? Tabloid fodder?” My stomach sank. I couldn’t go that low.
“Not necessarily. I’m not sure what their slant is, but I do know that Tad’s looking for someone who has both psychic abilities and can write. You should call him. I have his number.” She handed me a slip of paper on which she had written Tad Gelphart’s phone number and email address, as well as the URL of the website. “Tad’s a good guy, a little nerdy, but he truly loves his work and I think the people who work for him are happy.”
I fingered the paper, then slipped it into my purse. I really didn’t want to work retail, and my training and degree were focused on the direction of writing. “All right, I’ll call him. You’re sure that old Fairweather doesn’t need anybody?”
“Honey, that ship has sailed. His son Idyll can barely keep the paper afloat. Nobody reads print anymore. Sooner than later, the Moonshadow Bay Monitor will have to join the digital revolution or be left behind.” Ari motioned to the waiter for another latte.
I went back to my waffle, thinking about Conjure Ink. How bad could it be?
That afternoon, it took my aunt, Ari, and me four hours to sort through the house. I knew what I wanted to keep for the most part, so it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it might be. I kept all the family pictures, of course. I didn’t have children and there was nobody to pass them down to, but I had other relatives who might want them. I kept the furniture—most of it was in good condition thanks to my mother’s loving care, and it would save me having to buy new. I wanted to expend as little as possible on this move. But I cleared out the sheets and towels and some of the dishes—namely the goblets and mugs.
I wanted something new, that fit my lifestyle. Ellison had kept everything he could lay his greedy hands on, and most of it was more stuffy than I cared for anyway. So I had quit arguing and just insisted he pay me for what he wanted to keep. I could claim community property on anything we had bought during those eighteen years of marriage.
Finally, by six o’clock, we stood back, looking around. I felt a sense of satisfaction. The house was already clean, thanks to my aunt, but now it felt slightly different. My books were on the shelves, my clothes were in the closet and dresser of the room that had been my parents’—and that in itself felt weird. Clearing their things out, finding my father’s condoms and my mother’s vibrators had been daunting, even though I knew they were highly sexual. But finding all their secret stashes, including the cannabis that my mom had hidden in her jewelry box, felt like I was prying where I shouldn’t be.
I sat on the bed when we were done, staring at the baggie in my hand. “My mother never could quite reconcile herself to the fact that pot’s now legal here.” She and my father had been hippies, and they had grown up to be environmentally conscious Baby Boomers, the ones who shopped at the farmers market and Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods. They frequented the local butcher and bought fair-trade coffee, and they had volunteered at the animal shelters and baked cookies for local charity drives. They had cared about the world in a way I had had to push aside during the years I lived with Ellison.
“Your parents were good people,” my aunt said. “They did what they could to make the world a better place. I miss your mother more than I can say.”
I glanced up at her. “Is there anything of hers that you’d like to have? Just name it. You and she were tight.”
“Maybe…her guitar?”
“It’s yours. I don’t play and it would just hang there on the wall.”
“We were called ‘those Karns girls’ in school. We led a march on town hall, and you should have seen your grandpa William’s face when we were escorted home by the police. Of course, we had been up to our tricks, and we conjured up a dancing demon to illustrate the horrors of war, so I guess the cops had good reason to frown on our protest.” Teran started to laugh, shaking her head. “We really mucked things up that time. That demon did over a thousand dollars of damage to the town square before your mother and I managed to send him back to wherever he came from and your grandparents made us work off the cost of the damages as best as we could.” Teran snorted. “But we sure got reprimanded. Not for using our magic, of course, but for misusing it. Neither one of us knew what the hell we were doing.”
I let out a sigh. “Ellison basically hated anything to do with my magical powers. To him, it was all just too freaky. He tried to cover up the fact that I came from Moonshadow Bay like it was a red light district or something. At first I pushed him on it, and I even tried to include him in the Otherkin community. I took him down to Pike Place Market to meet the shifters who own Leathers R Fun, but he made such an ass of himself that I gave up. The elite arteests apparently don’t like admitting other races or talents exist.” I shook my head. “What the hell was I thinking, staying with him? I feel like I’ve lived in a cocoon for the past eighteen years and I didn’t even know it.”
“You know what they say about frogs and hot water,” Ari said, wrinkling her nose.
“Actually, that’s a fallacy,” I said. “Makes for a good metaphor, but the frogs are smarter than I am. They just hop back out when it gets too hot.”
“You’re smarter than a frog,” Ari said, but I waved her away, laughing.