“Grace!” shouted Hadley.
A woman at the edge of the lawn stood dappled in morning light. She had a carpetbag purse slung over one shoulder and held an enormous bouquet of sunflowers as tall as herself. Muddy roots tangled around her long white skirt, leaving brown stains.
“I came to say hi,” she yelled, “and to cleanse the house’s aura for you.”
Hadley and her mother exchanged grins.
“Who’s that lady with the purple hair?” asked Isaac, joining them. “And why is she standing in the street yelling at you?”
“That’s Grace,” said Hadley. “She’s our friend from the old building. Don’t worry, she’s just a bit kooky.”
Hadley was so happy to see Grace that she forgot she was mad at Isaac for hiding the dolls. She charged down the steps of the porch and across the lawn.
Layers upon layers of beads of all shapes, colors, and sizes swung from Grace’s neck. Purple Birkenstock sandals that had seen better days covered feet that Hadley was sure had never entered a spa. Grace’s hair was a ball of magenta frizz, and her eyes bulged behind cheap rhinestone-rimmed frames with no lenses.
Hadley took Grace by the hand and dragged her toward the house. They reached the front porch and climbed the steps. Grace handed Hadley’s mother the sunflowers and clapped the dirt from her hands. She dusted her skirt, which only made the stains worse.
She looked Hadley up and down. “Your feet have grown.” She looked at Isaac. “You have a loose tooth. Only it hasn’t started wobbling yet.” She patted his shoulder.
Isaac’s fingers shot to his mouth and began checking his teeth one by one. “I think I found it!”
Hadley’s mother smiled. “Thanks for the flowers.” She held them at arm’s length so as not to get dirt all over herself. “Come in. I’ll show you the place. Just, er, let me get a vase for this lovely bouquet.”
Grace looked at Hadley and shrugged. “They’re not really from me. The gnomes picked them.”
She was about to step inside when she came to a dead stop in the center of the door frame.
“It’s worse than I thought,” she muttered, peering inside the house. “We’ll need the full treatment. A thorough aura scrubbing, spirit exfoliation, atmospheric renewal, and buffing. And some thalassotherapy, too. Good thing I brought my algae, seaweed, and alluvial mud kit.” She patted her large purse and winked knowingly.
Hadley sighed happily. She was glad Grace had come.
Hadley’s mother boiled a pot of hot water—it was all Grace drank—and then they sat down in the living room for a chat.
Grace told them all about the other apartment residents. Mostly random details, like how Mr. Barolo had thrown out a perfectly good chair and that was why he now had a horrible case of gout, and how Evelyn and her twins had started a hunter-gatherer diet except they ate far too much bacon which stank up the entire fifth floor upsetting Alfred who was a strict vegan.
She was particularly annoyed with the mysterious young couple that had moved into Hadley’s old apartment. Apparently they refused to take the elevator. Or say hi to the gnomes.
The old apartment. Just the mention of it made Hadley homesick.
While Grace talked, Hadley reached into her pocket, turning the eye over and over between her fingers. She recalled details of her old bedroom. The inside closet door where her mother had etched her height each year. The stain in the carpet where Sydney had dropped the jar of grape jelly. Her puce walls—which she could never properly describe. Were they purplish brown? Grayish violet? How she missed her puce walls.
Hadley’s mother went to the kitchen to boil a second pot of water. Isaac, who had lost interest in Grace, wandered up to his room.
“I wish my walls were—” said Hadley, but Grace dove across the sofa and clapped a hand to Hadley’s mouth, muffling her last word.
“Never make wishes,” she gasped. “They can be granted.”
Hadley peeled Grace’s fingers from her mouth and smiled. “But—isn’t that a good thing?”
“Of course not.” Grace removed her glasses and wiped the nonexistent lenses on her skirt. She then placed them back over her eyes and her expression brightened as though she could suddenly see a whole lot better.
“The universe is a giant cosmic seesaw. We tip to the left, then to the right. Up and then down.” She swung her body side to side, up and down for effect.
Hadley swayed with her, nodding feebly. The cosmic seesaw was nauseating.
“And there’s a rhythm, too. Like waves hitting the shore. Like the moon affecting the tides. Like planets rotating around the sun. What goes out comes in. What goes around comes around. Whatever you send forth comes back. So if you get something, you must give something in return. Do you understand?”
“Not really,” said Hadley.
She closed her eyes to let her stomach settle from the cosmic roller-coaster ride. She wondered if there was a remedy for cosmic motion sickness hiding in Grace’s bag.
They drank several cups of hot water, ate a few biscuits, and then took Grace on a tour of the house.
She pulled out a yellow feather duster and waved it in each room, muttering to herself in a language Hadley was certain was gibberish. Grace stayed for another quick cup of hot water, then said it was time for her to head back to the gnomes. She gave Hadley a huge hug, promising she’d be back soon.
“Drop by and visit whenever you like. The gnomes have been asking for you.”
Hadley stood at the front door watching until Grace was a colorful blur at the end of the street. Ed’s car rolled into the driveway just as the tingling creeping up Hadley’s left arm made it all the way to her elbow.
“Hey!” he shouted, stepping out of the car. “I took the afternoon off, and guess what?”
“Dad!” said Isaac, pushing past Hadley. He ran down the steps so quickly he nearly stumbled, but caught his balance in the last moment. Ed gave him a swing-around hug.
“I need your help, buddy,” he said, walking to the trunk. He opened it and pulled out two buckets of paint. He handed them to Isaac, who sagged under the weight, and told him to take them to Hadley’s mother.
“Desert Dusk!” She beamed so brightly Hadley thought she might need Granny’s sunglasses to look at her. “Can we get started today?”
“Nope,” said Ed, pulling a third bucket from the trunk. “I’ve got another project I need to do first.”
He walked toward the porch and stopped right in front of Hadley. He held out the can, a goofy grin on his face. “Didn’t you say you wanted your room painted?”
Hadley stared at the can. The label had only one word.
Puce.