Fuzzy Logic Read Free Page B

mother stood in the doorway. “Janelle! You’re here!” The tall, lithe woman was wearing a peacock-colored tie-dyed dress and had a ring of flowers in her purplish red hair. She reached out and grabbed Jan by the elbow, pulling her inside. Candles and incense were burning, and the smoke irritated Jan’s lungs. “Hi Mom,” she coughed as she stumbled alongside her mother into the dimly lit room.
    “We’re doing a cleansing of my space so I can be ready for what’s next. Do you remember Skye? She’s here to do a reading. I want to be better prepared this time. And Zoe over there is in charge of the smudge sticks, so we don’t burn the place down. We don’t want that to happen again, either.”
    Jan nodded her head in acknowledgment. From past events, she knew more firemen than she probably should. “Do you need any help with anything, Mom?”
    “Could you take the suitcase? After we finish the reading here, we’ll be ready to head over to the gardens for the ceremony.”
    Jan looked over at the suitcase that contained her mother’s collection of sock puppets. She had spent a lot of time hauling that thing around, and she held a special animosity for the contents within. Intellectually, it was stupid to be jealous of a bunch of old socks, but they were more than just laundry, in this case.
    “Okay, Mom. I’ll meet you there.” She turned to pick up the suitcase and with her free hand waved toward the other women. “Good luck! Make sure she doesn’t forget anything important.” When Angie had married Nick, she had forgotten the rings, and Jan was enlisted to run over to the local quick mart to get makeshift wedding bands from a gumball machine. Fifteen quarters later, the guy at the counter was starting to give her odd looks, but she finally had two rings and thirteen creepy molded-plastic animals. Yes, arriving the day of the wedding ceremony this time was cutting it close, but experience was a merciless teacher. The less time Jan spent with her mother, the better.
    As she walked back down the stairs, Jan heard the sound of kids playing in the pool. Somehow she had managed to miss out on a lot of the fun of living in San Diego. When she was a kid, she never splashed around playing Marco Polo or hung out at the beach like everyone else. Maybe it was because she was too busy. When Mom was at work late taping shows, or out with her latest man, Jan was the one who had to walk to the grocery store or else there wouldn’t be anything for dinner. Somebody had to do it. Between that and her schoolwork, it seemed like she hadn’t had much free time.
    She shook her head. Best not to dwell on the past. She should probably be more excited about the wedding. But since the Toilet King was about to become husband number six (or was it seven?), it was getting more difficult to muster up enthusiasm for the whole nuptial process. Given her mother’s attire and the location, the theme of this wedding appeared to be reminiscent of wedding number three, which had sported a bit of a flower-child-hippie vibe.
    Maybe Mom had run out of ideas, so it was time to start recycling old ones. Or maybe she just forgot. During the dreadful Richard phase, there was a lot of that kind of generalized distraction. And to make things even more confusing, right before the wedding Richard had changed his name to Wambleesha because it meant white eagle, which he thought was “most excellent.” At the time, Jan had spent quite a bit of time in her room devising her own significantly less majestic definitions for the guy. But since Angie collected divorce papers like some people collect stamps, Richard/Wambleesha didn’t last long.
    At the gardens, Jan got out of the car and looked out past the lush tropical vegetation toward the crisp blue coastline of the Pacific Ocean beyond. Even if the wedding was a repeat performance, the gardens were still a beautiful location for the event. She spotted a large white tent across the lawn. Grabbing the