“No. But I think, maybe, I broke my brain.” All that stress over finances has finally caught up.
“Okay. Where are you?” Her words are hurried.
“Home.” I walk to the window situated over the kitchen sink, and jerk the white curtains closed. The window has a view of the fenced-in backyard, so it’s not like people can walk by and see me freaking out. Still, I think I might be losing it, and who wants to share that with the world?
“I’ll be there as fast as I can, but it’s going to take a few hours. Will you be okay until then?”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yep.”
“Are you sure? Because I can call someone to get there sooner.”
Like a psychiatric hospital? “No. No. Don’t call anyone!” Nobody can know about this. They’ll think I’m nuts, and I want a person I know and trust to hear me out before I decide if that is in fact the case. “It’s more of a mental hiccup that may or may not be a sign of my brain severely malfunctioning. Just—can you come?”
“Of course. Of course. I’m always here for you.”
“Thank you, Olivia. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’ll call you from the road,” she says.
“Bring wine.”
“Ginnie,” she growls disapprovingly, “if you’re upset, you shouldn’t be drinking.”
“Too late. But the wine is actually for you. You’re going to need it.”
“So let me get this straight.” Sitting beside me in the living room, Olivia leans back on my red-and-white floral couch. It goes nicely with my very colorful glass collection displayed all over the room, most of it sitting on my wall o’ shelves. “The bottle on the floor in your foyer has been following you around. And so has some hot grumpy dude in a suit?”
“He doesn’t always wear a suit,” I point out.
“Well, that makes all the difference,” she says dryly.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Yes. But no more crazy than you’ve always been. It’s one of your finest traits.” She smiles, her big brown eyes filled with reassurance. It’s funny, but Olivia just has one of those sweet faces you can trust. The way she presents herself also says she’s trustworthy—flats, pressed khakis, and a light pink blouse. But underneath her preppy-wear and blonde bob is a sly, feisty little animal. The ferret must be her spirit animal. Mine would be some sort of bird that builds cool nests.
“I’m being serious. This whole thing has me questioning my sanity.”
Vi rolls her eyes. “Of course I don’t think you’re crazy. But something strange is definitely going on.”
“Like what?” Because I don’t have a damned clue.
“Maybe this guy is a genie. Did you try rubbing him to see if he’ll go back in the bottle?”
I scoff. “This isn’t the time for jokes.”
“Sorry. Sorry. You know it’s just a defense mechanism.”
I do know. And her jokes usually help when things get rough, but not today.
She continues, “I think we should call the police. Just to be on the safe side.”
“And tell them what?” I argue. “That I found a bottle with a note inside, telling me to make a wish, and then some mysterious hot man has been showing up, asking me to get on with it? They’re never going to take me seriously.”
“He broke into your house, Ginnie. That is serious, and I’m sure they’ll agree.”
“I know, but then they’ll ask what was taken, and I’ll have to explain that he actually returned something I happen to own. Oh, and there was no sign of a forced entry.”
Vi pinches the bridge of her perky nose. “Then…then…I really don’t know what to do.” She drops her hand and sighs.
“Me neither.” I run my hand over the top of my head and down the length of my braid.
“Well, you can’t stay here alone. I’ll call Moose and see if he can come for a few days after he’s back from Colorado. In the meantime, you’re staying with me.”
I know she’s juggling tons of cases at work and can’t afford to take a bunch of days off, so Vi staying here for the week is out of the question. Sadly, I can’t stay with her in the city either. “I wish I could crash with you,” I say, “but I have an order for a table, and they want it next week.”
“So?”
“So all my things are here—materials, tools, glues. I can’t work in your tiny apartment.”
“Fine. Then we’ll stop and buy a gun.”
“What? No. No guns. They scare the hell out of me.”
“Ginnie, now I am going to throw down the crazy card. This situation is weird enough that you called and ask me for help. You never ask for help. Ever. Why do you think I canceled all my meetings and drove two hours to get here?”
“Because you’re an awesome friend? And it’s not true; I’ve asked for help before. Remember Gary Weideman’s party when I drank too much beer and threw up on my sweater?” She had to go find me a shirt and then sneak me home through the window so my mom wouldn’t see me wasted.