Janey was still battling with indecision when Philips came home from work that same evening. And she could tell with the look on his face that he was geared to continue the argument that they'd started that morning.
"Good evening, dad. Would you like a glass of wine before dinner?"
Instead of an answer, he hit her with the same question he'd asked earlier.
"What did Alex want?"
"To tell me that grandma had died."
A smile on Philips face shocked her.
"Dad! Really!"
He shrugged. "What, you'd rather I be hypocritical? We didn't like each other. There's no need pretending at this late date. Besides, her demiss puts an end to the ridiculous notion that crazy family continue to transfer." If he'd had slapped Janey in the face, she couldn't have felt anymore betrayed.
"Crazy family? You married one of them. If you believe that so heartedly, then what does that say about your judgement?"
"That I was blinded by your mother's beauty," he snapped, then strode angrily towards the bar and poured himself the drink she'd offers moments earlier.
"I see," Janey said. "Well, that explains my existence, but it doesn't solve all of your dissatisfaction." Philips spun abruptly, his eyes narrowing angrily as he snapped.
"What do you mean?"
"Marcy's death does not change me, Mandy's blood still runs in my veins, too."
Philips turned a dull,angry red. "Shut up!!" He said, and then pointed his finger at her as if she was a recalcitrant child. "Am sick and tired of hearing about vision and spirits and "seeing" things that aren't there. There's no such thing as being psychic."
Then he flung his drink into the empty fireplace, shattering the glass and splattering the wine into a thousand directions.
"Why?" He shouted. "Why do you keep harping on that goddamned claim as some kind of gift? It ruined your mother. It ruined our marriage and it's goinggo make you crazy, just like it did her."
In that moment, both Philips and Janey would have been started to realise how alike they really were.
"Am not crazy, and I'm not my mother!" She shouted back. " But since we are harping on the same old subject again, then let me tell you something right now. You aren't going to get the chance to put me away like you did mum. I'm leaving in the morning, I'm not coming back, which should make you exceedingly happy. You will not longer be embarrassed by having to explain to you colleagues that your daughter is a half burble of plum."
Philips did not know whether to argue or be glad that the break had finally been made.
"Fine. A trip to Italy will probably do you some good."
"Oh, yes," Janey said. "I forgot to mention the other part of Alex news. I'm not going to Italy. I'm going to New York. I'm going home. Grandmother Marcy left everything to me, including Wisteria grove."
Philips felt as if someone had just yanked the ground out from under him." What the hell are you saying?"
"I'm moving. Tomorrow. To the family estate in Florida, New York. That's what am saying. Maybe my absence will give your life some peace. God only knows what it wi do to mine, but everything wi be better than this."
Having flung down her personal gauntlet, Janey strode ou of the room.
For once in his life, Philip Peter was speechless.
Janey exited the Miami international airport terminal with the keys of her rental car clutched in one hand amd dragging her piggybacked suitcases with the other. That heat and humidity of Florida sucked the air from her lungs and stuck her clothes to her body as she struggled to pull the luggage over the curb.
"Help you, missy?"
Startled by the unexpected voice,Janey jumped as a young black mam came out from behind a concrete pillar and pointed at her bags. His features contorted im a constant shift of jerking muscles as he waited for her to answer instinctively, her fingers curled around the suitcase handle and she took a nervous step back.
"No. No. I'm fine, thank you." She said quickly.
I stead of leaving her alone, the young man moved closer. Now she could see his bloodshot eyes and the droplet of spittle at the corner of his mouth. When he pointed at her bags, she could see the muscles in his forearm twitching, too. What on Godsyname was wrong with him? Did he mean her harm?
Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist, an before she could scream, the air shifted. The mansyface began to dissolve before her eyes, and the flesh on his hand melted away, leaving what appeared to be a skeletal hand with fleshless fingers wrapped around her wrist.
Janey gasped then yanked out of his grasp. Immediately,the vision disappeared.
"Don't touch me!" She cried, her voice trembling from shock. "I don't want you to touch me!"
His expression crumbled as he began to cry.
"Sorry, lady. Don't mean to scare you. Just trying to help. Mama said to help people in need."
Almost immediately, Janey felt sick. This young man could not be more than twenty, maybe twenty one years old, amd now that she could see him clearer, she could tell he was simple. And she knew one other thing about him too. He was going to die. She didn't know how, and she didnt know when, but it was going to happen as surely as she knew her own name. Once she would have tried to tell him what she'd seen in hopes that she could stop the inevitability of it. But she'dearned the bad way that fate could not be changed and people did not welcome such news.
So I stead of spilling her guts,she took a deep breath and made herself smile.
"It's ok. Please don't cry. You just startled me." He jammed his hands in his pockets as he ducked his head, then looked up at her from beneath his dark shaggy brows.
"You don't mad at me, lady?"
Janey sighed. "No, I'm no mad at you."
"Ok." Then, he said, and walked away.
Janey gave him one last glance and then started on into the parking garage. A few feet away, she felt the urge to turn. As she did, she saw the strange young man walking towards the terminal in a slow, shuffling motion. His head was down,his shoulders hunched around his neck, as if brazing himself for a deadly blow. Janey quickly turned away, wiling herself not to think of what she'd just "seen" and wondering if there was anybody in his life who would grieve for him when he was gone.
A few minutes later, she found her rental car and wearing stuffed the suitcases in the trunk. With a map of New York unfolded on the seat beside her, she settled a pair of sunglasses on her nose, turned the air conditioner upto high and drove out of airport parking.
It was after eleven in the morning as she hit the highway and headed south towards the little town of Florida. If nothing happened, she would reach Wisteria grove by late evening.