The Psychic of Duchess Court

3: JK Nice Bod

(Andrea's POV)

What a peculiar girl!

She wasn't a believer in my practices, but then again not everyone is. She seemed a bit frazzled and out of it, but that's customary when I'm running my purifier.

I kept it running, and I have specific pods for each of my clients, so I switch them out periodically. Sometimes I'll use a different one for a client to keep them sharp and to see if they notice. They almost always do.

The air-purifying pods aren't made by witchcraft. I don't whip up a special potion, and my hobby room is not an evil witch's lair. I simply make products that I know will help people, and most folks aren't accustomed to being helped. The pods are meant to soothe and rejuvenate. After all, your olfactory sense is the strongest in recalling old memories.

Like yesterday, with the dogwood.

I didn't mean to alarm Ophelia with my uncanny knowledge. Like I said, I strive to be a helping hand, and I knew that the dogwood scent made her think of her childhood because I'd read it in her mood, saw it in her eyes, gleaned it from her smile as she tilted that pretty head back and really inhaled my scent.

Because believe it or not, I'd known she was coming over. That's why I had the essence of dogwood ready in my purifier and ready for her to take home.

I'd actually made her a couple. I knew she'd need them.

But I didn't know if I made them for that purpose, or for the purpose of getting her over here again.

It was true that she intrigued me to no end, with her serious, no-bullshit manner and her careful way of doing things. I could sense extreme trauma, and trust issues, but that was to be expected of almost anyone that comes into this house. Everyone is going through their own struggles, and it was my job to assist, to be a positive force and light in their life.

I was starting to learn the hard way, though, that not everyone wants that.

I don't think Ophelia did. Or maybe I was wrong. I hoped I was wrong. She seemed just about to accept my world, but then I'd said that stupid Virginia thing, and I could literally feel her retreating back into herself.

I get waking visions, and I got a very powerful one when she was standing in the doorway of my hobby room. I saw a little boy of about twelve with a broken leg, a really bad compound fracture. I saw her crying over him, saw a woman who I presumed to be her mother run to the farmhouse to call for help. It was all very painful and shocking, and I usually don't get such strong visions like that anymore.

That's why she interested me so much, because she had the gift. I could feel it.

You start to know in childhood. You see some things that aren't there, hear things that aren't there, feel things you shouldn't, like the brush of a hand over your shoulder when no one's in the room. It's scary at first, but if you lean into that, and know that none of it can hurt you, you can then appreciate the hidden secrets life has to offer.

I was contemplating this around dusk while on my front porch drinking tea, after my last client left for the day. It was a relieving yet empty feeling not to be a healer for a bit.

And there was Ophelia, doing yoga, as always. I gave my wave, and she gave hers before going back to stretching. I couldn't help but admire her toned abs as a dying beam of sunlight hit them just right, her smooth, dark skin, slightly sheened with sweat, the muscular arms, the full lips, the natural hair. I took note of it all in one singular glance. I wanted to invite her over for tea. Heck, I wanted to embrace her and really see what her body would feel like in my arms.