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