Page 39 of The Lonely Hearts Book Club

“You’re either texting a date or your daughter,” he said.

Since it seemed I was in the company of a fellow psychic, I handed him the phone. At seeing himself referred to as a “strange man,” a light smile touched his lips.

I wished Arthur could see that smile. Or Sloane. No matter how many times I’d tried to draw him out, Greg had sat silently throughout dinner, not saying anything that hadn’t included the wordspleaseandsalt. He’d eaten a hefty chunk of the lasagna, though. That had to count for something.

“Wait until morning, and then ask her something unrelated,” Greg suggested. “Something she has no choice but to answer, but that leaves me out of it. Like where she put an old board game you can’t find or if she needs a notebook you found wedged under the mattress. The lack of follow-up will hook her.”

His plan was a good one, but I wasn’t sure I liked where this was headed. “Are you a professional pickup artist or something?”

He chuckled and tilted his head in a way I recognized as a question. Scooting over to make room for him on the couch, I patted the cushion. That was another thing I wished Arthur and Sloane could see—the quiet, unassuming politeness in him. Until I invited him to come closer, he planned to stay a respectful six feet back.

“Or something,” he said as he sat. His weight dragged the cushions down. “I work with kids. You won’t get anywhere with them by being sincere. Not at that age, anyway. They fight against anything that feels like real emotion.”

Hmm.I pursed my lips and examined him out of the corner of my eye. It was starting to look like time to reconsider my original reading of this man; construction work and firefighting weren’t exactly kid-friendly professions.

“What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Give me your hand.”

He immediately yanked his arm so far out of my reach that I was reminded, once again, of how much he resembled his grandfather.

“Don’t be such a baby.” I pointed to the side of the living room where my desk and the cat clock were set up. “It’s my thing. I read people’s fortunes for a living. I tried to do your grandfather, but he reacted…strongly.”

“That sounds about right. I’ve never known him to react any other way.” Something like a smile touched his lips. “But there’s no need to read my palm to get answers. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

I blinked, unsure how to handle this reaction. Peoplenevertold me what I wanted to know. They lied and pretended they had appointments on the other side of town. They buried themselves in work, in books, in anything but honest-to-goodness human interaction. This man, in particular, had sped away from me several times already, his foot heavy on the gas as he shot away as fast as metal and gasoline could carry him.

“You’ll tell me literally anything?” I asked.

A tinge of red touched his cheeks before creeping up to his ears. “Notanything, but stuff within reason. The stuff a psychic would know, anyway.”

I decided to test him.

“What do you do for a living?”

“Officially? I code for a tech firm. But the kids I was talking about are part of an after-school boxing program I volunteer for. We do weight training, drills, that sort of thing.”

This answer satisfied me on so many levels that I didn’t hesitate to ask another. “How long would you have stayed out in that car, too afraid to tell your grandfather that you came all this way to see him?”

“Weeks, probably. Or months. I don’t know. I packed up everything when I heard what had happened. I wanted to be here in case…well, you know. They made it sound pretty bad.”

“Oh, wow.” That one floored me a little. I couldn’t think of anyone who would willingly drop everything and come running if I suddenly fell ill. Bellamightcome around to spending her one weekend a month with me instead of her friends, but I wouldn’t put money on the likelihood. “But you’re not close, right? You and Arthur?”

“You could say something like that.” Greg’s mouth set in a grim line. “My mom left the house the day she graduated high school, barely eighteen and pregnant with yours truly. I saw him a few times growing up, but he never tried to reach out to me, never wanted more than a cursory relationship. I’m here to try and fix that.”

All of a sudden, I wasn’t so sure about this brutal honesty approach. At least when I told people’s fortunes, I could pretend to give them happy backstories…and outcomes. I doubted Arthur was going to give this man a happyanything.

“Why didn’t you say any of this?” My question came a little more quietly this time. “To your grandfather, I mean? You barely spoke two words to him over dinner.”

“Because he didn’t ask.”

I relaxed back against the cushions, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by this influx of information—offered without strings or emotion, and by the last person I’d expect it from. The feeling reminded me of the first time I ever took Bella to the ocean. Lake Coeur d’Alene was a gorgeous body of water, don’t get me wrong, and the beach here was perfect for a day of swimming and sun, but there was no current. The lake water had a way of lapping lazily at the shore, tickling toes and offering a gentle playfellow. The ocean, though—that was something else. Bella had run up to the edge of the water, expecting her old friend, only to find herself pulled under by the freezing hand of a stranger.

Greg must have sensed some of my feelings, because his wry smile deepened. “I apologize if that’s more than you wanted to know. I’d just rather tell you than have you try to nose out my history through other means. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, though the words were distant—mechanical. “I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

He got to his feet and nodded down at my phone, a not unkind expression on his face. “Ask her about the board game, and then give it a few days before you try again. If it doesn’t work, I promise to help you catch her interest in some other way.”