Oh. My. They were black cloth headbands with JULES AND MACK FOREVER in white along the front. You tied them in the back and the ends hung down through your hair. Very stylish and motorcycle-ish.

“They’re cool and radical and perfect,” I said. “Everyone will love them.”

“It’s a way to unite everyone, pull us all together on the day when Mack and I commit to our passion and come together forever and ever as one body.”

“I can’t wait to put mine on. Finally, I will be cool, look cool. Your wedding is going to be a bash.”

“Oh, Evie,” Jules choked out, her fingers laced together, tears coming forth. “You’re always so supportive of me. Everything I do. You’re so encouraging. You told me to start my motorcycle painting business, and now I have six people working for me. And you told me to give Mack a chance and I did, and now look. He’s my soul mate. My love mate. My bed mate. We don’t even fight. If we have a disagreement he says, ‘Let’s go to bed and think about it,’ and then we make love and we forget what the little argument was about. He goes to work and takes care of all those sick kids and they love him and I do my business and then he comes home and we have a quickie before dinner and then we talk and I tell him my problems and worries and he hugs me in bed and lets me lie on top of him until I feel better. And all because you said, ‘Give Mack a chance.’ You’ve always wanted me to be happy and yet you have to deal with fortunetelling and it’s made your life so hard, yet you want me to be happy . . .” She stopped, overcome. She blew her nose. She snuffled.

“You’re making me cry again, Jules. Please don’t.” I wiped my tears.

“Okay, okay! But I love you, love-sister!” Her voice pitched up, chin trembling. “Wait. Evie.” She wiped her tears away. “I know I’ve asked you this already, but have you had any premonitions about us?”

“No, I haven’t.” And that was true. Premonitions work in odd ways. “But I feel your happiness. I feel his happiness. I feel your love together.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” She put her head down, hands to face, overcome.

“Don’t do it, Jules, don’t do it! You’re making me cry more!” My voice broke. Dang it! She makes me cry too much! We both burst into a fresh round of sloppy, noisy tears.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married!” I sobbed.

“Me either.” She put a hand to Skype, and I touched her fingertips to mine.

It’s so exhausting being this emotional.

* * *