“Liza and I are doing great,” he said. “We’re a team.”
“How long have you and Liza been together?”
“Two years.”
“And how long has she known you’re different?”
“I told her last month. It wasn’t easy, but we’re working it out.”
“How much does she know?”
“Enough.”
“Everything?”
“No, not everything.”
“So you haven’t told her the true origin of your parents’ powers, or yours.”
Peter felt the air escape from his lungs. “Not yet.”
“Still keeping secrets from her? That will never work in a million years.”
“I’m going to tell her. I just have to find the right time and place to do it.”
“Oh, no, here he comes,” Milly said under her breath.
Milly’s eyes shifted their focus as an elderly fellow wearing gray sweats and a sweatshirt tied around his waist came jogging down the path. He was downright handsome for his age, with a mane of snow-white hair and a runner’s lean physique. A smile lit up his face at the sight of Milly. Cupid’s arrow had struck, Peter guessed.
“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend,” Peter said. “He’s cute.”
“The man is practically stalking me. I can’t stand him.”
“You’ve been out with him?”
“Just once. Dinner and a movie. It was a terrible mistake.”
“You made it through dinner and a movie? I’d say you’re doing great. Introduce me.”
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“Come on. Love never dies.”
“Be still.”
Milly’s beau was veering toward their bench, ready to strike up a conversation. Milly was having none of it, and raised a crooked finger to ward him off. In all the world, there was no greater force than a witch’s crooked finger, at least not that he knew of. With that single finger, oceans could be parted and skies made to darken. It was a power not to be used lightly, and he was surprised that Milly used it now. From the oak trees a single kamikaze crow exploded in a beeline for the elderly gentleman’s perfectly coifed head. He saw the bird coming in time to halt his forward progress and raise his hands in self-defense, exactly what Milly had intended.
“Go away,” the man said.
The bird did the opposite, and continued to buzz his head, while doing arcing somersaults befitting an aerial show. Peter could not help but laugh under his breath.
“You think this is funny?” Milly scolded him.
“I was thinking of filming it, putting it on YouTube.”
“You’ll do no such thing!”
Love is blind. It was also stupid, deaf, and incredibly dumb. Milly’s beau would not give up, his feelings for the old witch too great. He came toward them while continuing to do battle with the crow, his arms flailing like a crazy man just released from an asylum. Milly raised her crooked finger again. More crows exploded out of the trees and added to the first bird’s aerial assault, forming a cloud of black around the poor man.
“Have them pluck his eyes out,” Peter suggested. “That will do the trick.”
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” Milly said with a stern face. “I made the mistake of giving him my phone number. He won’t stop calling me.”
“You gave him your phone number? This sounds serious.”
“A moment of weakness.”
Milly’s beau continued to inch toward the bench. There was no doubt in Peter’s mind that this man was truly in love with Milly. There was also no doubt that Milly had found him attractive. So why was she trying to scare the fellow half to death?
Milly raised her crooked finger a third time. A barking dog ran down the path trailing a leash. Dogs in New York came in three sizes: large, medium, and symbolic. The dog belonged to the third category, and could have fit comfortably in a lady’s handbag.
The barking mutt nipped at Milly’s beau’s ankles. Canines were clearly his weakness, and he began to head back the way he’d come, but not before glancing over his shoulder and waving good-bye. He’d be back tomorrow, Peter was sure of it.
The crows returned to the trees and quieted down. Taking a tissue from her purse, Milly blew her nose. Her eyes were wet with tears.
“What’s wrong?” Peter asked.
She took a moment to gather herself. When she spoke, her voice was filled with pain. “Back when I lived in Ipswich, I knew a man named Henry Quinton. Henry was decent and strong and a perfectly normal fellow, and I absolutely adored him. He was a banker, and made a nice living, had a boat and a membership at a country club. We dated for a while, then one day out of the blue, he got down on his knee, and popped the big question.
“I wanted so desperately to say yes! Having a normal life seemed terribly attractive to me. But for it to work, I knew that Henry had to know who I was. That trust had to be established from the start. It was the only way a marriage could possibly work.
“So I sat dear Henry down and told him the whole story. It wasn’t easy, but I did it. I even did a little demonstration for him, and persuaded a stray cat to do tricks for us. Henry was stunned, to say the least.” She paused to wipe her eyes. “A few days later he broke it off. No reason was offered, nor did I need to hear one. The act itself spoke volumes. I moved to New York City soon after, and have never been home since.”
“I’m so sorry, Milly.”
She put her hand on his arm. “I didn’t tell you this story for sympathy, but as a warning. What happened to me can happen to you and Liza. And if she breaks your heart, your life will never be the same.” Milly glanced at her watch and shook her head. “I must be gone. Think about what I’ve told you. Don’t break things off with Holly just yet. You might regret it one day.”
Milly rose from her spot on the bench and Peter did as well. She offered a peck on the cheek and the faintest of smiles. She was in his corner, he realized, and always would be.
“Good-bye, Milly. Be safe,” he said.
“And you as well, dear boy,” she replied.
33
Peter escorted Milly out of the park, and watched her cross the street to the Dakota. Only after she’d gone inside the building did he hunt for his limo. Herbie had parked in a striped No Parking zone at the corner of Columbus and 72nd Street. Limos were status symbols in New York, and drivers could park just about anywhere, and not get towed.
Peter climbed in and made himself comfortable in the backseat. His driver looked preoccupied, with an open textbook in his lap. The partition slid back.
“Where to, boss?” Herbie asked.
“Let’s go home. What are you reading?”
“A book on accounting. I’m taking some night classes at CCNY. I’m studying entertainment management.”
“They really have classes devoted to that?”
“Sure do. Most entertainers are bad businesspeople, present company excluded.”
“How do you know that I’m not a bad businessperson?”
“Well, you’re not broke.”
The truth be known, he still didn’t know how to balance a checkbook, and relied on Liza to take care of the household finances while a team of well-paid accountants kept track of the money he made at the theater. They were soon gliding down Broadway. There were many people like Herbie in the city. They worked long days, yet still managed to pursue other careers during their off-hours. New York was a city of dreams, and everyone had a dream he or she was chasing. Not so long ago he’d been one of those dreamers, and knew how powerful the urge could be.
His cell phone vibrated. He sometimes thought of his cell phone as a little pet that clawed his leg whenever it craved attention. It was Liza. Despite what Milly had said, he believed their relationship really did have a chance. Psychics could have relationships with nonpsychics. It just took a lot of work, no different from any other relationship he’d ever had.