“Diadra isn't here, yet. It's a quarter to ten and I'm running out of food.”
“Get a grip, Eleanor. So the woman's running a little late. So what? Mediums and spiritualists are on their own clocks, not yours or mine.” He adjusted the beads over his tie-died tee shirt. Zofia had never seen him in that shirt before. The jeans and sandals were more of his trademark.
Seeing the timorous look on Natasha's face, Zofia countered her husband's caustic words with her own tender voice of reason. “He's right, Natasha, these people do things differently. Besides, a person could be running late for many reasons. I waited for two trains just the other day. I must've sat there for nearly a half hour.”
“There, you see? There's probably a good explanation she's late,” Marvin said. “Now, just go throw som
