Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,62
buy a pregnancy test to put my mind at ease.” Amie put Rosie’s brownie on a plate and took it to her.
Gemma studied Amie’s trim figure. It was just as fit and petite as it was when Gemma had hired her right out of high school. No way could she be over a hundred and ten pounds. She just topped five feet. With her dyed black hair, multiple ear piercings, coupled with her kohl rimmed eyes and dark purple lipstick, Amie fit more into Chinook Books than Gemma did.
The eclectic bookstore used to be hippie central when Siri ran it. Incense had burned at the counter. Brownies could be ordered “organic” instead of the dark chocolate, nut-filled ones Gemma stocked. And customers hung out all day gazing up at the celestial ceiling her father had commissioned for Siri’s birthday. There was still a New Age vibe, and the ceiling still received a lot of oohs and ahhs, but the more years that went by, the more Gemma had lessened the influence. Though she hadn’t been able to get rid of Tarot Tuesday, or what she secretly referred to as Trial Tuesday.
When Gemma’s perky part-timer, Callista, reported to work at noon, Gemma grabbed a book on dreams and hid herself in the back office. She let Callista run the book floor while Amie continued to fret about her possible pregnancy in the café. Siri was too occupied with her Tarot readings to pay attention to what Gemma was up to.
She wished she could just ask her mother what she meant about the Dreamweaver comment, but she’d learned a long time ago not to show too much interest in her mother’s “second sight.” At least medicated, Siri didn’t talk to people who weren’t there and predict the future or the sex of unborn children. Well, as much.
She hoped Amie wasn’t pregnant. Maybe she’d run out and pick up a pregnancy test to put both their minds at ease. Until she could get away, she had some investigating to do. She opened the book she’d swiped on dreams and found the table of contents.
The chapter on “Astral Sex” leapt off the page.
CHAPTER THREE
“Well, you look awful,” Tern Maiski said, entering Gemma’s little back office.
There wasn’t much room for more than a desk in the closet-like space. Gemma had tried to lighten it up from the multi-colored rainbow arching across the walls her mother had painted to a much more soothing sage green. Though the rainbow still bled through in the right light as if refusing to be covered up.
Gemma planted her elbows on the old walnut desk that had been her father’s, and rested her chin in her hands. “I’m having astral sex.”
Tern sank into the chair opposite. “You’re having what?”
“Astral sex.”
“Before I draw any wrong conclusions, explain exactly what astral sex is.” Tern shrugged off her stylish black wool coat that reached to her calves and unwound a hand-painted red silk scarf from around her neck. Tern owned the Arctic Tern Art Gallery just down the street, and they had a standing date to eat lunch together on Trial Tuesdays.
“Here, read this.” Gemma held up the book for Tern, her head still spinning with the otherworldly implications.
Tern took the book and read the passage Gemma indicated. She glanced up. “You’re having sex dreams? What a relief. I thought—never mind what I thought.”
“Geesh, Tern. I’m not even seeing anyone special and you thought I’d—holy balls, just keep reading.”
Tern followed the passage with her finger. “Astral sex—damn but that’s funny to say—is the theosophical belief, belonging to the ethereal region that is believed to exist at a higher level than the material world. Personal auras are said to have non-corporeal sex with astral playmates.” Tern leaned forward, the book cradled to her chest. “So you have a spiritual playmate.”
“Be serious for a minute.”
“I am being serious.” Tern’s Athabascan skin glowed under the harsh fluorescent lights, picking up the auburn strains highlighted in her thick ebony hair. But it was her dark almond eyes looking grave that had Gemma swallowing.
“Don’t tell me you buy into this?”
“Of course I do.”
“Come on, I was counting on you to bring me back to earth.” At Tern’s lift of an eyebrow, Gemma added, “Ground me at least. I need to talk to someone and I can’t tell anyone out there.” Gemma gestured wide with her hand to include all the occupants currently in Chinook Books who believed what the pretty painted cards told them.
“Your mother probably has more information