Lessons In Being A Flapper Read Free Page B

“You’re grandfather.”                                                                                                                                         
          “Wh--? How?”  This is impossible. I needed to leave now because this woman was obviously deranged. My grandfather has been dead for fifteen years and I told Marisol as much but she dismissed me with a flippant wave of her hand.                                                                                                                             
        “Chickadee, just because someone has gone off for the Big Sleep doesn’t mean they’re not with us spiritually, you know.” Big Sleep? What the hell was that? And did this 90-something-year-old just call me chickadee? Really?! Noting the confusion on my face, Marisol butted into my thoughts and said “Dead, my dear, Big Sleep means dead! My God, you need to catch up on your Twenties slang if you’re ever going to make it as a Flapper!” I was pretty sure that was the point where my jaw dropped to the floor.
        “Don’t be so shocked, Autumn. You should know that even though your grandfather may have departed he is still with you in spirit. In fact, he is your guardian angel but he feels he can’t do any more for you because you are stuck in a rut. So that’s where I step in. I’m here to help you get out of that rut and maybe teach you some things about the twenties while I’m at it.”                                                         
         “But how can you talk to my grandfather? Are you some sort of spirit-wrangler?” I asked, still stunned by the revelation that my grandfather was my guardian angel. I always had that feeling but to hear it said aloud was startling.                                                                                                                                         
          “Spirit-wrangler? What the hell is that? God, no, I’m a medium. One of the best in the whole damn world, I’ll have you know. I was world renowned back in the day with all the dicks and croakers coming to me looking for advice on what to do. Those are what we modern day people call detectives and doctors, just so you know. I don’t want your mind going into the gutter and getting lost there before we even get started on your transformation!” Dicks? Croakers? Transformation? My head was spinning and I hadn’t even had a drink! I felt like I was back in in the Prohibition!                                                         
    “Now, tell me, my dear, what is the name of that delightful little dog who just peed on my poinsettia’s?” Oh shit!                                                                                                                                                                    
      “Clara! You naughty girl! What did you do?” I said, shamefaced that my little rescue dog had tinkled in a house so gorgeous. I knew, without looking in a mirror, that my face was fifty shades of crimson.
    “Clara? What an interesting name,” Marisol said. This woman didn’t miss anything did she?              
      “Yes, I named her after Clara Bow because she is brave and perseverant just like