“That checks out,” Mack says with a nod. “Miss ‘I Paid Off My Loan Like a Legend.’”
I chuckle with a quizzical look. “Do all legends have abudget spreadsheet that remains open and a calendar that is color-coded?”
Nessa nods. “It’s true. This card is all about triumph after struggle. You did the hard thing and got the win. Respect.” She flips the second card, and the light mood shifts.
“The Moon.” Her voice drops a bit. “This one’s … trickier. It’s about uncertainty, illusion. Stuff that’s not what it seems. Like, things might be murkier than they look right now.”
I shift in my seat slightly. “Welcome to adulting,” I force out with a grin.
Nessa lets out a breathy laugh, then turns over the last card. She pauses. “Ten of Swords.”
The table falls quiet for a beat too long.
“That one’s … not great, right?” Ashley asks with caution.
Nessa hesitates, choosing her words carefully. “It’s not a death omen or anything. But it does mean something’s ending. Usually not gently. Sometimes it’s betrayal-y. Someone close not being honest, that sort of thing.”
I lift my tonic and take a long sip, letting the cool drink refresh my nerves.
"So," I say, keeping my voice light, “a celebration of hard work, a foggy middle, and then a knife in the back. What a fun arc. Real feel-good story.” I shift my eyes away from the card, looking around at the group.
“Becs …” Nessa starts.
“No, no, it's fine. I mean, wearein Cascadia. There could literally be snakes in the grass. I saw a rattlesnake on my last hike.”
That earns a ripple of nervous laughter, but my smile is more forced than I would like. I set my drink down.
“Well,” I say, brushing invisible lint from my lap, “good thing I brought boots.”
The night rolls on, and with each tarot reading Nessa delivers, the tension from mine starts to fade. We laugh, sip, and guess each other’s fates. It’s half sincere and half chaotic nonsense. It’s exactly the kind of cozy chaos I need to shake off ominous cards and overthinking.
Then there's a knock at the door.
In walks Sam—broad-shouldered and unhurried, the kind of man who takes up space without meaning to. He's in his typical baseball-watchingoutfit: an old, ratty t-shirt with a faded logo and jeans so worn they seem molded to him. The backward Mariners hat is showing off at this point.
He grins and strides toward me, pulling me in by the shoulders for a quick kiss. “Hey, baby. Ready to go?”
I nod, glancing over my shoulder. “Yup. Can we drop Mack off on the way? She Ubered here, and we live like half a mile apart.”
“Of course.” He lifts his voice for the group. “Nice seeing you all, hope you had fun!”
A chorus of “Bye, Sam!” follows us out the door.
Outside, Sam leans in and opens the passenger door. He buckles my seatbelt, like he has since our first date. “Still precious cargo,” he murmurs, clicking it into place.
I always teased that it was a leftover habit from securing lumber in his truck all day as a contractor, but secretly, I liked his version better.
He rounds the hood and slides into the driver’s seat of his white GMC. The cab smells faintly like sawdust and the pine air freshener he refuses to replace even when it stops working. As he glances into the rearview mirror, he catches Mack’s eyes.
“No Jared tonight?”
She lays her head on the backseat. “Nah. He and Reece are in Portland for a soccer tournament. I offered to go, but they insisted I stay. Said I shouldn’t miss Zentrology night.”
Her voice wavers enough to catch my attention, but I let it go. Jared had Reece when he was twenty, and he’s been trying to put a ring on Mack for years. She and Reece get along great. We’ve all wondered why she’s still holding back, but none of us have pushed.
“That’s cool,” Sam says. “I know how much you ladies love these nights. Can’t wait to catch Reece’s next game, she’s really coming into her own.”
“She is,” Mack says, relaxing a little. “New coach this year, and something clicked for her. She’s obsessed.”
