Wherever She Goes (Psychic Seasons, ReGina Welling [novels to improve english TXT] 📗

danger there than I am here. Probably a lot less if we’re being honest since Logan and Billy barely knows I exist.”

Kat knew Gustavia would have moved out after the wedding if Finn hadn’t talked her into adding that half bath at her place. It was supposed to be a minor remodeling job but he’d managed to keep her place in a state of chaos now for weeks—he had no intention of letting her go home alone.

“Take Lola with you.” Julie suggested. Lola came across as mostly sweet—even slightly goofy—but the one time Logan had tried to break into Hayward House, she proved she could handle herself while chasing off a bad guy. The dog had a soft spot for Kat.

“No. Thank you, but no. I love her to bits but my yard is just too small. It’s why I never wanted a service dog.”

The sense that her life was about to begin again filled Kat with purpose.

Chapter 6

After a couple minutes of fumbling with the key, Kat finally closed her eyes and unlocked the door by feel. Undoubtedly, having her vision back would make most things in her life easier but in the meantime, she would have adjustments to make.

From the outside, the house was still as she remembered from her childhood visiting here. Right down to the Madame Zephyr sign next to the door.

Eyes still tightly shut, she dropped her bags just inside the door and closed it behind her. More used to moving through the space in darkness, she hung up her coat before making her way toward the back of the house.

Everything felt familiar. She breathed in the powdery scent of the dried flower arrangement on the hall table, the polish her mother used on the dining room table—a task she would be handling from here on out—the sound of the old, wide-plank floorboards in the hallway leading to the kitchen.

Home.

Would the kitchen look the same? It had been long years since she had sat at her grandmother’s honey-colored, pine table, warm in a pool of sunlight and counted the teapots lined up on the shelf by the door.

Four shelves, four pots on each shelf—sixteen. Her favorite, the first one on the top shelf was made from vintage porcelain and painted in a stylized pattern of flowers. It featured stacking creamer and sugar bowls and still held the things her grandmother had stored inside. Little handwritten notes, addresses for people long dead, a marble, several heart shaped stones, recipes, half a dozen used twist ties, some rubber bands, a small key, and three packets of dried yeast that had to be decades past their expiration date by now. Nothing of vital importance, but sorting through those things, touching them brought back memories of a simpler childhood. The time before spirit came into her life.

Kat opened her eyes then blinked at the darkness only a shade or two lighter than the back of her eyelids. At first, she thought her vision was going again and her heart fell, then began to thump in her chest but after a moment of panic, she realized she had forgotten to switch on the light.

More new habits, she sighed and made a mental note to remember for next time. The brief periods when channeling Estelle had given back her sight, Kat had been far too busy dealing with the new sensations to spend any extra time in looking around.

Now, she wandered from room to room and memory to memory. Torn between older, more visual memories and newer ones that only carried touch, scent and sound—seeing each room as it was now, she felt both at home and at the same time, like a stranger seeing everything anew.

Kat dragged a finger through the light layer of dust that testified to the fact no one had been in the house for weeks and weeks. With a sense of purpose, she spent the next couple hours exploring every nook and cranny, dusting as she went, and making a mental list of things to purchase. For the first time in her adult life, light bulbs were on the list.

Finally feeling more settled, more connected, a tired Kat carried her bags upstairs to unpack.

_,.-'~'-.,_

Twenty-four hours.

That was the brief respite before the first phone call came in.

“Hello?” Kat’s talking caller ID announced a number she had never heard before.

“Hello, is this Kathleen?”

“Kat,” she corrected automatically.

“This is Paul,” he said his name as though he expected her to know who he was already.

“Paul,” she repeated his name in bewilderment.

“I assume your mom didn’t tell you I’d be calling.”

“No, she didn’t,” and just like that, Kat knew the matchmaking had begun. “Let me guess, she ran into you in the grocery store and started asking subtle questions to see if you were single,” Kat predicted.

“She and my mom are in some kind of knitting club together.”

“Ah, so they’re in cahoots.”

“Yes, I believe they’ve formed a gang that goes around forcing susceptible men into making embarrassing phone calls to unsuspecting women. The key word there is unsuspecting.” His droll tone made her smile.

“Who’s the ringleader? Your mom or mine?”

“Oh, I think it’s a joint position. So what do you think? Take a chance on a date with me? I mean, we’ve both been duped. We already know we have that in common.”

Kat thought about it for a moment. She trusted her mother’s taste so how bad could it be.

“Sure, why not.”

_,.-'~'-.,_

Five minutes into dinner, Kat knew this first date would also be a last date. Paul was nice enough and had a wonderful sense of humor but the extra family members who tagged along made it difficult for her to take him seriously. Standing right behind his left shoulder, Aunt Gertrude kept up a running list of his many positive attributes. She wore one of those zip-front housedresses in vivid shades of magenta and sky blue. That coupled with the way she waved her arms around made it incredibly difficult for Kat to focus on the earnest and