god creating my own universe. I’d been at it so long that when I glanced at the time, I gasped in panic. If I didn’t leave now for Buster’s, I’d be horribly late. And as cautious as I was about Grandma moving in with a complete stranger, I still wanted to make a good impression.

Typing the address into my phone, I was relieved that it was in walking distance, only a few miles. I could take the bus, but the early evening air would do me good, clear my head.

Grabbing my keys, I left the apartment building and followed the map on my phone.

The sun lowered on the horizon, still an hour or so from setting, but by the time I reached Buster’s, the sky was streaked with deep oranges and reds. It was calming, peaceful, and for a few seconds I was able to clear my mind of the stress of what I had done and of what was to come.

Buster’s house had charm much like its owner, with bright red trim around the door and windows and a deep gray, painted on the wood-slatted walls of the one-story house. Three steps led up to a front porch that spanned the length of the house, with a swinging bench on one side and a couple of wicker chairs and a broken tile-mosaic-topped table on the other. I knew already that Grandma and Buster would spend a lot of summer nights out here on this porch. The neighborhood was suburban, with other houses of unique designs and color schemes, not the cookie cutter houses that seemed to be the norm nowadays.

As the sun sank behind the hills, the light grew dimmer and I had a full view of Buster’s front window.

I stopped at the sight in front of me. In the living room, Buster and Grandma waltzed across the floor in perfect unity.

Affection radiated through my body at seeing them so happy, and yet an oppressive weight pushed down on my chest at the same time.

I had been replaced.

Sighing, I walked up to the front door and knocked.

Moments later, Buster opened the door and smiled at me warmly. “Howdy do, Jeraline. Come on in.”

Entering Buster’s house, it was as charming as the outside—a living room on the right, a bedroom door in the back center, and the dining room on the left with a swinging door that led to what I would assume was the kitchen. The furniture was old and sturdy, like Buster. Some of Grandma’s boxes littered the floor next to the bedroom door, but nothing that would take long to unpack.

Holding his hand out, Buster pointed to the round dining table with steaming hot food resting on its surface. “Right on time. Let’s all sit.”

My tummy grumbled at the display: pot roast and gravy served with potatoes au gratin and sautéed carrots. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. Sitting down, I managed to say, “This looks amazing, thank you.”

Buster and Grams shared a smile, and Buster replied, “You’re very welcome. Now dig in.”

***

Afterward, I was sure my stomach would burst open from fullness. Buster walked through the swinging door (which I was right, it did lead to the kitchen) and came out holding a tray with three large cups of tea. I had asked for Earl Grey and was thrilled when I saw the metal strainer indicating it was loose leaf. As he placed the cup in front of me, the rich and fragrant smell filled me with warmth. “This smells delicious. Thank you, Buster.”

“My pleasure,” he responded and sat down after handing a mug to Grandma and taking one himself.

Dinner conversation had been small talk about the move and the weather, but now Grandma gave me a look that suggested things were about to get serious. “Jeraline? Buster and I were wondering if you could help him reshingle the roof. I know you used to help with your father’s handyman work when you were younger, and it’s going to start raining soon.”

What?

Wasn’t expecting that.

“I barely remember how.” I tried to hide the befuddlement from my tone.

Buster smiled at me as if to say Trust me, this wasn’t my idea, then eased my mind when he said, “I worked at a roofing company for twenty years or so. I just need an extra set of hands?”

The image of Buster trying to shingle this house by himself made my palms sweat. “Yes, of course. You’ll have to remind me of what to do.”

With a genuine nod of gratitude, Buster answered, “I appreciate it.”

Taking out the loose leaf strainer, I placed it on the tray.

“Well, now.” Buster perked up and took the strainer full of Earl Grey. “I used to be able to read these things. An old gypsy taught me how. What do you say, Jeraline? Want to know your future?”

No.

“Sure, why not?”

“Now, this is exciting,” Grandma chimed in.

Buster put on his reading glasses and dumped the tea leaves onto the table in front of him. He studied them for a good few minutes. Sweat dripped down my neck. Why was this so stressful?

A strange look crossed his face.

Oh man. Every muscle tensed in anticipation.

I couldn’t hold back. “What do they say?”

“Yes, Buster, what’s Jeraline’s future?” Grandma gave me a wink of encouragement.

But Buster used a napkin to gather the wet tea leaves and placed them back on the tray with a forced smile. “I guess I forgot how. Getting old.”

Nuh-uh.

He had seen something.

Grabbing the now soaked napkin full of Earl Grey, I searched for answers, but all I saw was a glump of brown.

“Okay, now you’re both making a mess.” Grandma shook her head in mock annoyance. Picking up the napkin of tea, she placed it back on the tray and stood. “I’m going to put this in the kitchen.” And with that, Grams left the two of us alone for a moment.

“I know tea leaves and tarot may seem silly to you, but sometimes they show things. Usually they’re just pulling on the person’s energy,

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