Free Believe It or Not by Tawna Fenske

care.
    “No, the nurses kicked everyone out after the incense lit the curtains on fire again,” Moonbeam said, setting her magazine aside. “But I’m so happy you’re here. I just heard from Detective Smeade about your reading with him this morning.”
    “Oh?” Violet said, feeling the panic rise like bile in her throat.
    “Congratulations, honey. They found the money right where you said it would be.”
    “What?”
    “In the elevator shaft. Isn’t that the craziest thing? But of course, you knew it all along, so—”
    Violet sat down hard in the chair, her head spinning again in spite of the fact that her hangover had long since passed. She gripped the arm of the chair as her mother kept chattering, the words washing over her without actually sinking in.
    When Violet found her voice, it was hoarse and far away.
    “They found the money in the elevator?” she asked, certain there’d been a mistake. “At the thief’s apartment building?”
    “Detective Smeade said you led them right to it. I’m so proud of you honey. Didn’t I always say you had the gift?”
    “Jesus,” Violet said, glancing up at her mother’s IV bag. Was there anything worth drinking in there?
    “Anyway, honey, you have Sandra Cooley coming in at three p.m. for a reading, and she’s a tough one. Don’t forget what I told you yesterday about—”
    “Did the doctor give you any sort of timeline for recovery?” Violet asked. “Any chance you’ll be returning to work soon?”
    “Well, dear, Dr. Abbott should be here any minute to check on me and hopefully give me a better idea when I might be released. But of course, there’s the physical therapy and bed rest and I’m really not supposed to be up moving around for at least a few weeks.”
    “A few weeks?” Violet choked. “But what about the shop?”
    “Well, you’re doing such a great job, honey, and I do feel like I’m getting good care, and it’s so nice to know the shop is safe in your hands.”
    “Well, I don’t know about—”
    “Just make sure you chase away that Drew Watson if he shows up with a tape measure and starts talking about expanding his bar. He’s been eyeing my space for years. But really, I know I have nothing to worry about with you in charge. You’re such a smart girl and a good psychic and I know you’ll take care of everything.”
    Violet grimaced, not sure how much longer dumb luck would hold out for her. She couldn’t keep faking her way through readings like this.
    Then again, isn’t that what Moonbeam had been doing for almost thirty years?
    Feeling guilty for disparaging her mother—even silently—Violet stood up and bent down to fluff Moonbeam’s pillow. “So really, Mom, how are you feeling?”
    “Oh, well, I wasn’t happy about the tainting of my karmic balance with the chemicals and medications, and the doctors refused to use a natural, herb-based form of anesthesia, but—”
    “We did the best we could,” announced a voice from the doorway. Violet turned to see Dr. Abbott grinning at them. He made his way to the edge of hospital bed, pausing to offer Violet a pleasant smile before turning to Moonbeam.
    “How are you feeling today, Ms. McGinn?”
    Moonbeam grinned, grasping his hand as he rolled a wheeled stool to her bedside. “I’ve told you to call me Moonbeam,” she scolded without venom.
    “I’ll try to remember,” he said seriously, glancing at Violet. “You can go ahead and keep chatting with your daughter if you like, Moonbeam. I’m just going to check your stats for a sec, and then we can talk about our plans for you.”
    “I can leave the room, if you like,” Violet said, picking up her purse. “If you need privacy or—”
    “No, please,” Dr. Abbott said. “The distraction is helpful.”
    He didn’t say for whom, but Violet sat back down and grasped her mother’s free hand. “So, Mom. Everything’s going great at the shop. Just concentrate on getting better and don’t worry too much about