warns. “Don’t let her turn you into a younger version of her.”
To that, I close my eyes and refuse to reply.
“Seriously,” she continues, far from finished with this particular thread. “You have no idea how much I worry about leaving you with her. In fact, just earlier tonight, when you were in the shower, I actually saw her spit on a client.”
I clamp my lips shut, determined not to speak until I’ve summoned my patience. “She didn’t spit on the client, she merely…” Ingested the client’s bad energy then spit it out to be absorbed by the universe. To Jennika’s ears, that’ll hardly sound better. “Whatever.” I shrug. “All I know is she has a long list of clients who all seem to love her. It’s not our place to judge her methods, is it?”
Jennika scowls. She hates when I act all righteous, especially when I truly am right.
“Anyway,” I add, desperate to move on. “You remember how to get there?”
“How could I forget?” She slows to make a turn, then picks up speed. Bouncing in her seat as the rental car plows down a series of rough dirt roads. “Last time I was there, it was decorated with skeletons and skull masks. Hard to forget a thing like that.”
“From what I hear, they’ve replaced the skeletons with twinkling fairy lights and a liberal dose of mistletoe—so be careful where you linger.”
“Linger?” She balks. “Oh no, my job is to drive you. I’ve no intention of joining you.”
I relax into my seat, trying not to look too relieved to know that our mother-daughter bonding won’t extend beyond this car. The last thing I need is Jennika hovering over my shoulder, providing up-to-the-second tips on how to win my “love war.”
“I thought I’d head back to Paloma’s. Maybe check out that box you told me about. You know, that one with Django’s stuff?”
“I think you should.” I force back a smile, trying not to sound too excited by the prospect.
Jennika needs to look in that box. She’ll never be able to forge a future with anyone if she can’t reconcile the past.
“Or I might just go back to the hotel and crash.” She drums her fingers against the steering wheel, accurately reading the true intention behind my words. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Up to you.” I pick at my cuticles, pretending not to care either way. Jennika’s so stubborn, so obstinate that if she guesses this in any way relates to the conversation we had in the bathroom, when I tried to convince her to give Harlan a chance, she’ll make sure to do the opposite.
We ride the rest of the way in silence, until she stops outside the Rabbit Hole and says, “I thought you said you hated this place?” She eyeballs me suspiciously.
“You sure that was me? ’Cause it sounds more like you.” I flip down the visor, check my makeup in the small, lighted mirror. Barely recognizing myself, what with all the painted-on sultriness and big, frothy hair.
“Oh, I definitely said it.” She frowns. “And I’m sure I’ll say it a few more times before I head back to LA. I’ll never understand your attraction to this place.”
“And yet you still come to visit and offer to drive me around. So altruistic of you.” I flip the visor up, grab the door handle, ready to say good-bye and get on with my night.
“Playing chauffeur seems to be the only way I can clinch any quality time with you. For such a dead-end town, you sure seem to keep busy.”
“Yeah, it’s called school. Homework. You know, the kind of life normal people have. Crazy, I know.” I shake my head, slide toward the edge of my seat.
“Is that what this is about—you wanting to be normal? Because we can do normal, Daire. You should see how normal my life has become.” She swivels in her seat, looking at me with a face so full of hope I can’t help but look away.
I stare hard at the Rabbit Hole, the very symbol of why I’ll never be normal again. As long as there are Richters, I’ll have no choice but to live the kind of life I’m only just beginning to understand.
Being a Seeker is my new normal. It’s the life I’m going to have to learn to embrace. These lighthearted bickering sessions with Jennika are about as normal as my life will permit.
“So, Secret Santa, huh?” Jennika fusses at my hair, determined to reclaim my attention. “Whose name did you