Page 10 of Eye on the Ball
“It’s not … awful? Or soon?” Eleanor knew I didn’t talk about the visions, but this was close enough to home. I wasn’t surprised she’d asked.
“No. Neither of those. It was peaceful, and she was loved.” I moved away, finished discussing it, and got on with my day.
“I wish the gloves idea had worked,” she said, for the hundredth time.
“Me, too.” Years ago, when it all started, I’d been sure if I could just wear gloves all the time, I’d never have to see another death. The idea was sound, but in practice, it was horrible. Wearing gloves in Florida, where it was too warm for them most of the time, made me even more of an oddity than I already was. I’d felt distanced—isolated—from people, even though I’d had no intention of touching ninety-nine percent of them, anyway. So, I’d ditched the gloves and taught myself to be more careful. I’d figured out the “rules” of my curse as I’d gone along, and I did the best I could.
It was enough. I had friends and family and I had Jack.
It was enough.
“We need lunch,” Eleanor said. “Pizza?”
“How about sandwiches? After all, Lauren’s Deli was business of the month.” I grinned at her and took cash out of my purse. “Would you mind going to get them? I have some paperwork to get to here.”
After the highly eventful morning, the afternoon was blissfully normal. We ate lunch, waited on customers, and took in a few wonderfully non-magical items in pawn.
“If only every day could be like this afternoon,” I said when we were locking up a little early at five.
Eleanor patted my arm. “Better days ahead, sweetheart. Better days ahead.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”
Jack had texted me he was picking up pizza to take to Aunt Ruby and Uncle Mike’s for dinner, so I drove out to their house, counting my blessings on the way. I sniffed my wrist where the “enchanted” perfume had almost worn off—realizing I hadn’t told Eleanor about it yet—and laughed at myself. Jack always called me a softy, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.
There were worse things to be.
4
Jack
I took the pizzas up to Mike and Ruby’s door. Before I could knock, Shelly flung it open, jumping up and down, her fat little pug puppy dancing around her feet.
“Jack! Jack! Jack!” She was so overexcited her cheeks were bright pink. “Did you hear about the pigs?”
“Junior’s pigs got loose again?” In case you’ve ever wondered if tigers are helpful when herding pigs, trust me. We’re not.
That had been a fun afternoon, though.
“No!” She grabbed the pizza boxes out of my hands and led the way to the kitchen. “There are going to be pig races next Saturday at the pre-game carnival!”
“I didn’t know pigs could drive race cars,” I said, fighting a smile. “How do they hold on to the steering wheels?”
“No, silly! The pigs run the races! All around a track! And sometimes they even jump in a pool and swim! Can you imagine?”
The tiger in me thought:Yum. Pork chops. But I knew better than to say that to Tess’s newly vegetarian sister.
“That sounds awesome! Will you be my date to the pig races?”
She giggled and carelessly shoved the boxes onto the kitchen counter. I jumped over to catch them before they toppled because that would have been a catastrophe. I hadn’t had anything to eat since my second breakfast.
“I can’t be your date. I’m going with Zane! Anyway, you loooooove Tess. Guess what their names are?”
“Zane and Tess?”
“The pigs!”
“Um, Wilbur?” Tess had forced me to readCharlotte’s Web.I’d pretended that I thought saving Wilbur was a waste of great bacon, but Tess had kissed my nose and calledmea softy. Since her cat, Lou, had been cuddled on my lap, I’d had no defense.