Stephanie Bradshaw looked dubiously at the young woman, then at the brass plate beside the door. 'Three Sisters' and below it, in smaller letters, 'Problems Solved'. This must be one of the sisters. I wasn't actually expecting nuns, thought Stephanie, but I certainly wasn't expecting this.

It was a slightly chunky young woman, dressed in what she called a pioneer dress, the kind you saw on Little House on the Prairie. But instead of the usual sunflowers or daisies, it had a pastel print of lavender flowers against a soft grey background. It made Stephanie think of misty spring dawns, very quiet and still.

And it suited the young woman well. There was a calmness about her that was soothing in itself. Her long hair, the color of old pennies, framed a gentle, pale face and flowed down to where Stephanie supposed her bosom began. Behind Ben Franklin glasses, her warm blue eyes were serene. "My god, " thought Stephanie. "What commune did this earth mother escape from?"

"Ma'am? In or out, please." Stephanie hesitated. "It couldn't hurt to talk about your problem. You're under no obligation, you know."

Stephanie entered, and the girl locked the door behind her, rapidly punching numbers on a keypad. There was an answering buzz, and the girl slid home a very solid looking dead bolt. "Come back to the kitchen. I have something in the oven. Besides, it's much cozier than the office."

Stephanie expected an echoing cavern, or an airless, cramped office. Instead she found herself in an entryway that rose three stories. A wide wooden staircase, with beautifully carved newel posts and a wide, shining banister, climbed to her left. An unlit room was through an archway to her right. The furnishings were shapeless lumps in the gloom, but she could see the faint glow of a computer monitor in it's depths.

"This way." The young woman started briskly down the hall that stretched before them, almost disappearing into the shadows. Stephanie hesitated again.

"Miss? It's very dark. Do you think you could...?"

There were two brief gleams of light at the end of the hall, and Stephanie caught her breath. Then the hall was illuminated as the hippie girl pushed open a swinging door. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm so used to this place that I hardly need any light to get around."

Some of the stiffness went out of her spine as Stephanie looked again at the bland face and mild eyes. The glasses, of course. She'd seen a reflection off the rimless spectacles. She hurried down into the kitchen.

It was warm, and it smelled wonderful. The kitchen was another surprise. It looked like a grandma's kitchen, if grandma worked as a caterer. There were two stoves, with ovens and a huge side-by-side refrigerator complete with in-the-door water and ice dispenser. Acres of counter space held a built in cutting board and marble slab, and what looked like every electric cooking gadget known to man.

The walls were painted a warm yellow, and there was a yellow and white checkered curtain over the sink. The walls were rimmed a little over head height with shelves laden with country knickknacks, and just below them hung framed prints of bucolic scenes and hand done needlecraft. When invited, Stephanie sat in an elegantly sturdy chair at a round table made of blonde oak.

"Care for something to drink? I was just about to make some tea."

"Whatever you're having would be fine."

The woman's almost invisible lips turned up in a wry smile. It was a shame she didn't wear any make up. A little color, and she might be almost pretty. "Are you sure? I'm going to be having lemon grass and ginsing. Nana has some Earl Grey, or Naresha has an excellent espresso blend. And if you're off caffeine, there's a little red wine, and Acacia's Tang."

Stephanie assured her that Earl Grey would be fine. The woman took two miniature china teapots from a cabinet and pulled two tea balls from a drawer. She scarcely looked what she was doing, but she moved with the casual assurance of someone who knows every inch of their environment. This was obviously her room.

"My name is Milda Akuji. As you've probably guessed, I'm one of The Three Sisters." Her nose wrinkled. "The very junior partner, as I am so often reminded. Acacia and Naresha aren't available right now, so you can tell me what your problem is, and I'll pass it on to them."

As she spoke, she was spooning loose leaves into the silver tea balls and screwing them shut. A kettle on the stove started to whistle, steam jetting. She poured boiling water into each pot, then dumped it in the sink, warming the china as Stephanie's own mother used to. Then she filled the pots, dunked in the tea, covered them, and brought them to the table. "You should let that steep for at least three minutes, more if you like it strong. Sugar, milk, or lemon?"

"Sugar."

"Ah, a fellow addict." Milda pushed a bowl of lump sugar, complete with tongs, toward her. "Let me check my brownies. They should be about done, and they turn into cardboard if they overcook."

"My name is Stephanie Bradshaw."

Using a potholder decorated with dancing cows, Milda removed a couple of large pans, then shut the oven and turned it off. "Stephanie... Stephanie... That would be... garland. Garland or crown." She set the pans on trivets and came to the table, pouring herself a cup of tea.

"Excuse me?" Stephanie was beginning to think that this was a huge mistake. She should have known better when she heard that these 'problem solvers' didn't do business in the daytime.

"I need to let those cool a couple of minutes, then I'll get you one. It tears them up too badly if I do it while they're hot. You'd have to eat it with a spoon." She sipped her tea. "Your name."

"Miss Akuji, I don't understand."

Milda snorted with laughter. "Miss Akuji! Please, no outdated, socially designated titles. Just Milda. Your name means a garland, or a crown. My sister, Acacia, is very particular about names. You can't be around her long without learning some definitions."

"Miss Milda... Sorry... Milda, I'm not sure now that this is the right, uh, company for me."

She nodded. "Because I'm such a ditz." She didn't seem in the least insulted. "Don't worry, I only handle records and research and such. Acacia and Naresha handle the field work. Just tell me why you're here, and we'll go on from there. I can't even guaranty you that we'll take on your problem. The final decision isn't up to me."

"Alright. Like you said, it couldn't hurt to talk. First off, do you believe in ESP? I don't mean like reading minds, or projecting thoughts. I mean sensing events that will happen, or have happened." She gazed at Milda defiantly, obviously expecting a negative response.

Instead, Milda nodded. "Sure. I have a few friends who are whizzes with a pack of tarot cards." Stephanie had expected to have to give a long, persuasive argument, as she had before, with little success. After all, it had taken her years to accept the reality of certain things. "Have you sensed something that you wanted to prevent, or something that had already happened?"

"Both. But it's not me...I'm not the one who has the power. It's my niece, Bethany."