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the movement, I opened my eyes to a tall Hispanic man dressed in black suit coat and slacks, his head sporting a chauffeur's hat.

``This is Juan,'' Cat said noting the surprise on my face. ``He'll be our driver to the Seacoast Inn.''

Juan tipped his hat at me and walked my luggage to the open trunk of a long, black stretch limousine. ``Do you do anything economy?'' I asked my sister, looking at the decadence of our transportation.

``Oh, please, Abby,'' my sister said, rolling her eyes. ``If you can afford to go first class then by all means, go first class,'' she finished, as Juan opened the car door for her and waited for both of us to get in. BLIND SIGHTED 257

Once the limo pulled away from the curb I was reminded about the whallop I owed my sister, so I began subtly with, ``This is really wonderful of you to arrange a nice, restful, relaxing three-day getaway, Cat. I'm really looking forward to just doing nothing but lying on the beach and lazing the next few days away.''

My sister squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and began to pick imaginary lint off of her slacks.

``I mean, it's just been work, work, work for the past couple of months, and this is going to be such a nice breather for me. Three days where I don't have to do any- thing even remotely psychic, just sand, surf, and sleep . . .''

``Okay, okay, so you know,'' Cat said, looking at me with a face that suggested she wasn't the least bit sorry.

``You mean about the huge psychic seminar going on in the very same hotel we are about to check into? No, don't know a thing about it,'' I said sarcastically.

``How'd you find out?''

``I met a lovely little old lady on the plane who was clutching `famed psychic' Deirdre Pendleton's latest book like it was the family Bible and gushing about all the festivi- ties Deirdre was hosting at the Seacoast Inn this weekend.''

``So I wanted to surprise you,'' Cat replied, avoiding eye contact. ``Where's the harm in that?''

``Do you think I'm stupid?!'' I said, raising my voice an octave. ``The only reason you arranged this little getaway, Cat, was so you could continue to hammer the publicity campaign at me.''

``Well, can you blame me? I mean, Abby, you're so tal- ented, and no one even knows about you!'' she insisted, using the same tired argument she'd used on me so many times before. ``I just thought if you came down here and took Deirdre's seminar and saw what having a national audience can do for your career, you might be inspired to branch out and use some of Deirdre's techniques to get your own name on the map.''

``That's just it, Cat,'' I spat, losing all patience with her. ``I don't want to be on the map. I am happy with my career just the way it is, thank you very much, and I don't need to do work while I'm on vacation!''

``Who said anything about making you work?'' Cat 258 Victoria Laurie pressed. ``I merely invited you to listen. You don't have to perform, Abby. No one even has to know you're a psychic. All I'm asking is that you sit through at least one seminar, and if you're not impressed, then fine; I'll join you on the beach and we'll never speak of it again.''

I sat quietly for a moment, silently smoldering. It irked me that she'd found a compromise I could definitely live with. I didn't want to let her off the hook that easily. But after a minute or two common sense prevailed; after all, she'd paid for the entire weekend, and all I had to do was sit through one stinking seminar. ``Fine,'' I said grudgingly.

``Really?''

``Whatever,'' I answered, rolling my eyes. ``When's the first seminar? I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.''

``That's the spirit,'' my sister said sarcastically. ``Deirdre's first seminar is tonight, and dinner is included.''

``Yippee,'' I said flatly.

``Abby,'' Cat said sternly, ``are you going to be this much of a pain in the butt all weekend?''

``Depends on how much of this crap you drag me to,'' I answered, still irritated.

Cat sighed loudly and reached for the door to the small refrigerator in the back of the limo. She pulled out a plastic pitcher of iced tea and poured us each a glass, handing me one before filling the other. After she'd put the pitcher away she turned back to me and asked, ``So how's the house hunting going?''

``Funny you should ask,'' I said, taking a sip of tea and struggling to let go of my residual anger. ``My Realtor called me right before my flight and said that there's a house listed in the neighborhood I like, and the price tag fits my budget.'' For the past several years I'd been squished into a thirteen by ten studio apartment, and after diligently saving my pennies I finally had enough to venture into the big grown up world of home ownership.

``Meaning there's something wrong with it,'' Cat said.

``No,'' I said getting defensive again, ``not necessarily. It's listed as a handyman's special, but my real estate agent insists it's got lots of potential. I'm going to take a look at it next week when I get back home.'' BLIND SIGHTED 259

``A handyman's special?'' Cat asked, looking at me doubtfully.

``What?'' I asked taking offense. ``I'm handy!''

``Right,'' Cat said, hiding a grin. ``Well, Abby, my offer still stands to help you out financially. I don't know why you're settling for dilapidated housing when I'm more than happy to make you comfortable.''

``Thanks, but I really want to do this on my own.''

``Have it your way. Say, how's Theresa? Did you have fun at the wedding?'' she asked me, referring to my best friend and

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