The Call: A Psychic Paranormal Romantic Comedy Page 3

  “French place?” Eleanor asked.

  Eric made fake gagging noises. “That place isn’t even that good. You just like to feel sophisticated.”

  “Where are we shopping next?” Eleanor asked.

  “I’m kind of done for today,” Matilda admitted.

  “No, you’re not. You need a new boss bitch suit.” Eleanor reminded her.

  “I’m not feeling it.”

  “Try harder,” Eleanor glared again. “Look at the store directory. There are an absurd number of high-end stores here. Let’s get this done.”

  They walked around the corner to Matilda's favorite tea shop. “Grab a table, we’ll get drinks and strategize,” Eric said.

  It was 12:30 on a Saturday afternoon. The mall was busy, but the outdoor walking made the mall feel less crowded. Saturday shopping was a best friend tradition since college. The venue changed weekly, but the friends stayed the same.

  There was no trouble finding an outdoor table at the tea shop. It was sunny but chilly. Tea would be lovely. Matilda thought as she sat down.

  ✽✽✽

  Hank and Darla Trellis had a couple weekly traditions. Saturday morning was for errands together, followed by lunch. Sunday evening was dinner with the whole family. And, they sat down to eat an actual breakfast together at least three times a week.

  Over the course of forty years of marriage and nine children, Hank could count on one hand the number of times they violated these traditions. Two of the violations were due to the birth of children.

  He held the door open for his wife as they left Tiffany’s in Oakbrook Mall. Their youngest child and only daughter would graduate with a Master's degree in two months. They were shopping for a charm for her bracelet.

  “Mission accomplished. What’s for lunch?” Hank asked.

  “We probably didn’t need to have the charm custom made,” Darla said.

  “Need? No. But, she’ll have it forever. I want her to always know how proud we are of her. You don’t like the design?” he asked.

  “I love the design. I’m just surprised. You’re rarely sentimental.”

  “Eh, we have a lot of boys. We can always swap one for another.” He dodged quickly as she swatted at him. “Only one girl, though.” He bent to give her a quick kiss as she tipped her face up at him. “What’s for lunch?”

  “Hmm. Italian or Wildfire?” Darla asked.

  “Italian,” Hank said.

  They started walking together, naturally in step. Hank shortened his stride without thinking about it when walking with his wife. At five feet two inches, she was a foot shorter than him.

  “Is Sam sleeping better?” she asked. Their middle child suffered from bouts of insomnia that went on for weeks.

  “He looked pretty bad yesterday. I’m not sure if he’s managed more than a couple of hours." After a look at Darla's concerned face, Hank added, "He’ll level out, he always does.”

  “That one worries me. They all worry me in different ways, but Sam on many levels.” She said.

  As they were approaching a tea shop, Hank saw a girl with fiery Irish red-orange hair and started to laugh. “I forgot to tell you about Thursday.”

  “About your lunch in St. Louis?” she asked.

  “No, after that. Oh. Wait. That is her. We’re bringing in an outside consultant on the Beer Project. She’s sitting at the tea shop. Let’s go say hi. You’ll love her.”

  ✽✽✽

  “Your tea, my lady,” Eric said with a cheeky little bow.

  “Thank you, sir,” Matty grinned back.

  “So, where are we going next?” Ellie asked.

  “Yeesh, I don’t know. But I hope it’s to buy a new suit.” Hank smiled as he walked up next to the table.

  Matilda gave a little start when she recognized him.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Matilda. I saw you as we were passing and wanted to say hello.”

  “Uh hi. Hi! Sorry Mr. Trellis, you surprised me.” Matilda said hurriedly as she jumped out of her chair.

  “Matilda Benton, this is my wife, Darla. Darla, Matilda will be working with us on the Beer product.” Hank said, then smiled pleasantly at Ellie and Eric.

  Darla Trellis couldn't be more than two inches taller than Matilda. The family matriarch had walnut colored brown hair with smiling blue eyes and laugh lines around her mouth. The internet said Darla was in her late fifties, five years younger than Hank. But, as a couple, they looked distinguished and joyful. It was difficult to guess their ages.

  “Hi! It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Trellis.” Matilda said as she shook Darla’s hand. “These are my two very best friends in the world, Eric Rodriques and Eleanor Hapner.” More handshaking ensued.

  “Hapner? Are you related to Charles? I think I exchanged email with him yesterday,” Hank asked.

  “Charlie is my husband, sir,” Ellie replied, clearly caught off guard.

  “Ah. I was impressed with his thoroughness and speed. What kind of law-” Hank started to ask.

  “Bah!” Darla interrupted. “You can call him on Monday and talk work stuff. You’re not hunting for new lawyers on our morning out. What are we shopping for?” she asked Matilda with a smile.

  “Ha.” Matilda was turning red. Why am I blushing? “Your husband is correct, I’m looking for a new suit. But we shop together every Saturday. We've done this since college.”

  “Aw, Hank and I do the same thing. Saturday morning errands, even when the kids were little. We were that annoying family in a grocery store with a bazillion kids to wrangle.” Darla laughed.

  Hank chuckled. “We won’t intrude, but I’ll be looking for your invoice from today. Your poor bag took a beating, too.”

  Something flashed across Matilda’s face but was gone before Hank could identify it.

  Darla must have seen it, too. She quickly changed the subject. “Have you tried Talbots? They do right by petite girls like us. There’s also a great designer on Michigan Avenue I can recommend if you don’t find something here.

  “I’m a little jealous of having shopping partners," Darla said, wistfully. "The boys won’t shop with me and Beth is still away at school.”

  “All right, woman. Let’s go. I require food and I can see where this is going. Let the young people shop, you don’t need to join them.” Hank laughed.

  “You’re no fun,” Darla pouted. “I have better credit cards. We’d have a blast.”

  Eleanor and Eric were both laughing. “You can join us any time, Mrs. Trellis,” Eric said.

  “Oh, so sweet.” Darla hugged each of them as they parted ways.

  As they walked away, Darla and Hank heard Eric ask, “When did we start hugging billionaires? I love today!”

  ✽✽✽

  When she was sure they were out of earshot, Darla stopped and turned to Hank. “Which one?”

  Hank looked over his shoulder. “Jake.”

  “Oh, good grief, is the end in sight for the gazelle? She’s into the beer project. Please tell me she’ll tolerate the pool obsession.” Darla smiled.

  “She completely pummeled him. For a solid hour. After a horrible mishap on her way to the meeting.”

  They started walking again as Hank explained.

  ✽✽✽

  Jake was not excited about Sunday family dinner. He loved his family. He loved the food. And the laughter. And the beer. It was just a matter of mixing those things with his girlfriend.

  Bella was a model. True to her name, she was six feet of leggy, beautiful blonde. She was also a pain in the ass.

  She disliked food. And beer. And his family. And pool. And t-shirts and jeans. She loved reality TV and her photoshoots and her fans.

  His mother called her the gazelle because there was nothing but long stick limbs to her. That wasn’t entirely accurate. Bella had a nice pair of fake boobs, too. It was like squeezing water balloons though. No flesh at all around the implants.

  Jake shook his head to clear his thoughts as they walked into his parents' house
on Sunday evening.

  The dog immediately charged them as they entered. The giant Rottweiler flopped on his back in front of Jake, waiting for the obligatory belly rub.

  “Roscoe!” As Jake said the name, the dog howled along with the o sound.

  Bella sneered at the dog. She didn’t like pets, either. “Go wash your hands after petting him.” Or germs.

  Jake rolled his eyes. “I’ll wash them before we sit down. Hello!” Jake called.

  “We’re in here,” his mom called back from the big room.

  He bent to kiss his mother’s head as they entered the room and then shook his dad’s hand.

  He saw his dad six days out of seven. Sunday dinner was still a handshake event. It was man-speak.

  If the handshake could talk, Jake’s would say, “Hello father, I have returned to your home. I love you and hope you are well.”

  And then Hank’s handshake would say, “Hello son, welcome home. I am glad you are here and proud of the man you have become.”

  At least, that’s how Jake imagined it every week. It was a weekly affirmation of their respect and love for each other. No words needed.

  Jake smacked his brothers and smiled at their assorted guests. “Wow, we’re the last ones and we’re not even late." There were sixteen people in the room.

  “Let’s eat!” Hank called.

  “What’s for dinner?” Jake asked. “Smells Italian.”

  “Lasagna,” Sam said, as he walked around the far side of the table.

  Bella smacked Jake's arm. “Go wash your nasty hands.” Sigh.

  “Woo, what were you doing that your hands are nasty?” asked Noah.

  “I pet the beastly dog.”

  Noah put on an affronted face. “How could you?”

  Jake smacked his younger brother upside the head. “There, now your head is nasty, too. Or maybe nastier. What the fuck is in your hair, man?”

  “It’s a new pomade. I hate it.”

  “Jacob, you will not curse at my table.” Darla scolded.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Jake apologized.

  When he returned from washing his hands, Jake dropped into the empty seat on Bella’s left. He noticed that the two chairs to the right of her were also empty.

  He looked across the table at Sam and Noah. Sam looked tired but was choking back laughter and trying not to make eye contact.

  Noah was making squeezing motions with his hands while bugging his eyes out. When Jake made a confused face, Noah made a gesture like he was throwing a water balloon.

  Jacob burst out laughing. “Asshole,” he said. Oh, man. He hoped Bella didn’t notice that.

  “Jacob.” His father said. Ah shit.

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “Is there a salad? I can’t eat lasagna.” Bella whined. “I’d love to eat it, but I can’t and I thought you understood that by now.”

  Darla sighed and made no attempt to hide it. “There is plain field green mix with lemon wedges on the side, as you prefer.” She looked around the table. “There’s also antipasto salad and fresh bread.”

  There was a general cheer of appreciation.

  Looking around the table, Jacob noticed his family and friends smiling and laughing together. Next to him, Bella sat perfectly straight in her chair, doing her best to ignore everyone, including him.

  “What’s new with you, Bella?” his dad asked. “Any new projects going on?”

  “Well, I’m auditioning for a reality show. Super excited about that, but I won’t know if I got it until the end of the month.”

  “How does one audition for a reality TV show?” Hennessy asked. Hennessy was the best friend of Jake’s eldest brother. More than the other guys, he tried to be polite. Without much of a family of his own, he was grateful for his seat at the Trellis table.

  “It’s not important,” Bella said.

  So much for that conversation, Jake thought.

  The awkward pause lasted longer than normal. Jake looked across the table. Noah made the cheers motion with his beer. Yeah man, I’ll race you to the bottom.

  Jake had just tipped his head back for a big swig of beer when his mother said, “Your father and I ran into Matilda Benton yesterday. She seems lovely.” Jake choked on his beer and then spit it out all over Bella.

  There were muffled snorts of laughter all around the table. Bella was crying. Noah handed Sam ten bucks.

  Fuck. They planned it. Assholes.

  Jacob gave his mother a look. Really?

  Darla smiled and winked, then sat back in her chair and sipped her wine as Jake tried to calm Bella down.

  “I’m so sorry, babe. It’s just a little beer. It’ll wash off your shirt. I’ll go get a new salad.” He said as he dabbed her with napkins.

  “Don’t call me that. Ugh. It smells so gross. How could you do that to me? You did that on purpose!” she wailed.

  “I didn't do it on purpose. I’m sorry, honey.”

  “My name is Bella! Not honey. Not babe. Bella.” She proclaimed. She didn’t like being called by nicknames.

  “Your name is Stephanie,” Sam said.

  “It is not! Again! I legally changed it two years ago. You know this. Why do you keep bringing this up?!” she screeched.

  “Mostly because I’m done listening to you whine about a little beer. I thought we’d move on to something else.” Sam loathed Bella.

  “You’re welcome to borrow a shirt, Bella,” Darla said from the end of the table.

  “Ugh. I’m not wearing someone else’s clothes.” Bella said with disgust. “Take me home, Jacob."

  ✽✽✽

  “What was your mom saying before you puked on me?” Bella asked.

  They were almost to her apartment. Soon he’d be able to walk her up to her door, apologize profusely again, and then leave. Thank God.

  “Bella, I didn’t puke on you. Again, I’m so sorry.”

  “What was your mom saying?”

  “Huh? I don’t know.”

  “She said someone’s name.”

  “I don’t know. I hiccupped in the middle of swallowing. That’s why I spit the beer out,” he lied.

  In the trailing silence, he thought of the fierce little woman that wanted to carry on with a dumb presentation after getting tossed in a city sludge shit puddle.

  What the fuck am I doing? He wondered.

  ✽✽✽

  “What the fuck am I doing? What is happening right now?!” Matilda laughed as she pretended to suck on a dildo in front of a room full of roaring, laughing friends.

  “You’re making me happy because it’s my birthday,” Ellie said. “Now moan appropriately or you’ll lose the dare!”

  “Is anyone else wondering why Matilda doesn’t have a gag reflex? Just me? OK.” Charlie was bright red in the face, horrified and incredibly entertained by his wife’s raunchy mind.

  Matilda took the dildo out of her mouth to breathe deep and laugh for a minute. There were tears dripping down her face.

  “Do it!” Ellie said.

  “I can’t.” Matilda laughed. “I will never be able to sit through a meeting with him again without thinking about this.”

  “Matty, please? It’s my birthday and it’ll make me happy. Please? It could be worse. I could be asking for the Silver Fox instead of Prince Charming. Please!”

  Fuck.

  She stuffed the dildo back in her mouth and pretended to moan, “Oh, Jake…”

  The room cheered. From somewhere in the back, Eric gave a shout, “Got it, Ellie!”

  Eleanor laughed harder and clapped.

  “YOU DID NOT JUST FILM THAT!” Matilda was doubled over in laughter and embarrassment.

  “Duh!” Eric yelled back.

  Eleanor threw her arms around Matilda in a hug. “I love you!

  “I gift you this dildo. He’s new. There are some things that friends, even best friends, don’t share. Dicks are one of them.” The room cheered again. “May he treat you right and forever be known as Jacob!
r />   “Who’s next for Ellie’s Dirty Dares?!” Ellie called to the room at large. “You’ll earn a party prize!”

  Chapter 3

  Tuesday morning dawned bright and clear. Matilda started her day the same as every other - with a workout. Thirty minutes on her elliptical to keep her limber and slender, some weight lifting to keep her strong, and thirty minutes of yoga to keep her as flexible as possible.

  Matilda's muscle spasticity limited her range of motion, particularly for her left leg. But, she worked hard to keep what she had. She'd do a different set of yoga stretches before bed, as she'd done daily since she was about ten years old. Once done, she took a hot shower and mentally planned the rest of her day.

  She had the Trellis presentation at eleven. And then another two-hour Trellis meeting scheduled immediately after. The calendar invitation just read "lunch". The attendee list included six of the Trellis family members.

  Well, that's not daunting at all.

  The family was rumored to be very close-knit and intolerant of others. They were supposed to be abrupt to the point of rudeness and standoff-ish when people disagreed with them.

  Matilda had a hard time aligning those rumors with Jake's worry and Darla's hug. Maybe people just didn't like the close-knit clan? Regardless, she didn't feel anywhere near as intimidated today.

  Lunch with six of them still felt overwhelming, though.

  Black pants suit, pale green shirt, silver jewelry, neat hair twist. Let's try this again.

  ✽✽✽

  Matilda got out of the Lyft at the Trellis building shortly before 10:30. She was ridiculously early. She'd kill some time in the lobby before checking in at the security desk.

  There was framed children's artwork hanging in the lobby. As Matilda read the plaque about the importance of funding non-academic art, music, and humanities, a man walked up beside her. She thought he was reading the plaque, too. But when she was done reading, he started talking to her.

  "I like the way young children use color. It's unpredictable, they haven't yet learned the concept of matching or coordinating colors. Like little boys wearing nail polish and little girls in tool belts. Such bravery to disregard what’s normal and ordinary without even knowing it," he said.