Bewitching You Read Free Page B

ill-fated future, they’d become irate and left without paying. Even though some might consider Laura Good a charlatan, what other choice did she have? This was her career, her lone source of income.
    Sofia walked up the path to her home and noticed her middle-aged neighbor, Herbert Lawrence, from the corner of her eye. His thin six-foot frame cut across their adjoining lawns, coming toward her at a rapid pace.
    “Ms. Good,” he shouted, before Sofia could run inside and hide. “Ms. Good,” he said again, as she turned to acknowledge him. He had moved into the neighboring house five years ago, yet she was pretty sure he didn’t know her first name or her mother’s. They’d both been branded Ms. Good, and of course, always in an exasperated tone.
    “Yes, what can I do for you?” Sofia asked with an innocent smile. What has Mom done to piss him off this time ?
    He jerked to a halt four feet in front of her with the standard grimace on his face. “You have to make her stop.”
    As usual, Sofia didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but no doubt her mother was guilty. The woman was like Dennis the Menace, and Herbert Lawrence was the unlikable, high-strung Mr. Wilson. Sometimes it was fun to watch their antics, but mostly Sofia wished her mother would grow up and leave the poor guy alone.
    She inhaled a small breath and asked, “What should I ask her to stop doing?”
    He shook his finger toward the side of the house. “Purple,” he said, his voice hitting a new high. “Out my kitchen window, all I see is purple with little tiny flowers. Why would she do that to me?”
    “She planted purple lilacs again?” Was her mother running out of ideas? She’d planted lilacs last summer after she’d discovered he was extremely allergic to them , and that he hated the color purple.
    Herbert’s elderly mother visited him every other weekend, and Sofia’s mother used the kind, somewhat senile woman to get all kinds of information.
    “No, she painted the side of your house purple,” he gritted his teeth and continued, “with little tiny white lilacs. So every time I look outside my kitchen window, that’s what I see.”
    Sofia bit her lips shut to keep from laughing. Her mother really needed a hobby. “I apologize, Herbert…or Mr. Lawrence. I’ll talk to her about it. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”
    “See that you do.” His silvery eyes matched the grey streaks running along each side of his head.
    Had he been grey when he’d moved in five years ago? Sofia couldn’t remember. She nodded and turned, making long strides up the porch and into the house. Thankfully, Herbert let her leave without another word.
    The door to her mother’s den was closed. The sign on the dark walnut-stained door read, “Reading in progress. Do not disturb.”
    Her mother’s murmuring voice reverberated out into the sunlit hallway. The sound was familiar and comforting. One she connected with her childhood.
    Sofia used to sit against the wall and listen in on her mother’s sessions, falling asleep at times. Of course that always angered her father, she remembered. He’d scoop her up into his arms and tell her to read a book or go outside and play. He hadn’t believed in the powers of the mind or any type of “nonsense that couldn’t be explained by science.”
    Oh, the arguments her parents had battled through. He’d yell and her mother would yell louder. In the end, he decided to leave and never come back. His leaving was for the best, Sofia realized now. How would he have handled knowing his own daughter was full of nonsense as well? Ever since puberty had set in.
    Yep, it was better this way.
    Her sandals tapped as she took the curved hardwood stairs up to her room. It had already been a long day, and all she wanted to do was work on her latest painting.
    She’d dreamed of a beach, late at night. Gray Phillips, of course, was there, not too far ahead of her. His pant legs were rolled up, as if he’d