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

more choice than you did in receiving sensitivity as her birthright. Now that you can see, it is time for you to begin looking.

“Riddles, Estelle?”

“There’s a locked box in the second bedroom closet. The key is in the kitchen, she says you’ll know where. Open the box and learn about the woman you thought you knew.” With a last wagging of her finger, Estelle was gone.

“Guess I’m not the only one who got on Estelle’s bad side.” Amethyst commented hoping to lighten the mood.

_,.-'~'-.,_

Inevitably, the topic of dating came up, and considering everyone else was matched up, Kat’s first date became the centerpiece for the conversation.

“Disaster—of King Kong-like proportions. I thought you were exaggerating about how bad it could be but I was wrong—so wrong.” Kat shook her head. “How am I supposed to take a guy seriously when his dead aunt tells me all his childhood secrets? He’s probably a really nice guy but between his family butting in and him freaking out over what I do, it was an epic fail.”

“Wait here.” Gustavia’s long legs flashed under a slim confection of a skirt that just skimmed her ankles. Sewn out of cloth from her own design, she’d found a website offering printed fabric using any image of her choice. Today it was a water scene complete with pink flamingos.

Moments later, she returned with a gaudy plastic tiara, popped it on Kat’s head and announced, “Welcome to the club. Here’s your tiara, wear it with pride.”

“There’s more, though.” They were going to tease her, Kat knew, but in the end, they would also help. Still, she was embarrassed to admit, “I figured out that I don’t know how to flirt.” When her statement was met with neither laughter nor sympathy, she shrugged off the feelings of uneasiness, “I mean, knew how when I was fourteen but it can’t be the same, right?”

Whatever she had expected, it had not been the glint of an accepted challenge mirrored across three faces. Now why did she feel like she had just started a game of Whack the Hornet’s Nest?

“Show us,” Julie commanded.

Face flaming red, Kat wished she had just Googled it instead. “It was nothing,” she muttered, “just a smile and a hair twirl.”

“Show us,” Gustavia, a huge grin on her face, waved a hand to indicate that Kat should get on with it. Friends like these were a blessing—mostly.

“I’ll be the guy.” Amethyst volunteered. She lowered her already deep voice another octave or two, effected what she considered to be a manly swagger, strolled across the room, leaned over and gave Kat an obvious up and down look, “Hey, baby. How’s it going’?”

It was too much for Kat who burst into peals of laughter.

Amethyst couldn’t have looked less like a man. She was wearing a simple sheath dress in a color that nearly perfectly matched the new shade of her hair topped with a garment loosely crocheted from some fuzzy type of yarn that was not quite a sweater but not quite a cape in a deeper purple tone .

Expressive eyes under a sweep of long, thick lashes—several blended tones of brown shading their lids—framed by a swing of blunt-cut hair, were utterly feminine. When Amethyst chose a signature color, she went with it totally. The tiny woman almost always reminded Kat of a woodland fairy.

“No, let me.” Gustavia was even less masculine in pink and bottle-green with no fewer than eight beaded necklaces draped around her neck. When she waggled her eyebrows and gave an exaggerated head toss Kat shook her head. “No, please. Just don’t. There’s no way I can do this. Absolutely. No. Way.”

“Want me to get Tyler? He’d make a better guy than the two of you.” Julie frowned, “Wait, that didn’t come out right.” Her words cracked them all up again.

Finally, Amethyst sobered up. She didn’t need to see the muddied colors of Kat’s aura to know there was more going on here than just a bit of insecurity. Kat had chosen to cut herself off from certain rites of passage—Prom, that fumbling first kiss, stepping on his toes during an awkward slow dance. Ahead of her still lay so many firsts that most women remembered for the rest of their lives and that most men of a certain age never expected to be part of again. No wonder she was nervous.

What Kat needed was for them to pass on their collected wisdom and help smooth the path for her. It was a sacred duty and once Amethyst understood that, the last lingering vestige of laughter fell away.

This was no laughing matter; this was more like a sacred charge.

Amethyst sat down on the table in front of Kat, ignored Julie’s pointed look about sitting on furniture not made for the purpose, and took hold of Kat’s hand. Then, she did her best Yoda imitation. “Hmmm. Dating wisdom so you want to know.”

Okay, fine. It was a serious situation, but there was no reason not to have a little fun with it. Kat would probably feel more at ease if things stayed on the lighter side. She ignored Kat’s rolling eyeballs and Julie’s snort behind her and jumped in.

“Did your mother ever tell you boys only want one thing?”

“No.”

“Well, good. Because it’s not true. Men want lots of things, mostly the same things you want. Love, companionship, someone to grow old with, someone who understands them. The whole package.” Behind her, Julie and Gustavia nodded in agreement. “Just as long as the whole package includes plenty of that one thing.”

“Flirting hasn’t changed that much from when you were fourteen…” Gustavia broke in, “…because half the men you meet will still have—on a hormonal level anyway—a teenager in their pants,” her interruption garnering her a quick grin from Amethyst.

By now, Julie had also picked up on what was at the heart of Kat’s problem. She was having a 13 Going on 30 moment, one that had less to do with flirting than with knowing what to expect.