Maybe Marlowe is right, and the problems between Ava and Preston are bigger than I realized. We spend the next several minutes gossiping about the night so far and the upcoming events she has booked, all surface-level chatter, but it feels good to reconnect.
Marlowe pokes her head inside the room. “Last call for the psychic. She has another event to get to in the city.”
“She’s barely been here an hour.” Ava wipes her cheeks, reverting back to planning mode.
“It’s fine. The guys didn’t seem that interested. And Constance already had her reading earlier in the week.”
“Guess that means it’s your turn, Tippi,” Marlowe says, leaning against the doorframe.
Ava squares her shoulders and squeezes my hand. “You should do it,” she says. “It will be fun.”
“My reading was mostly positive,” Marlowe says.
I reach inside my jacket pocket where I stuffed Oliver’s most recent card. The appearance of a second note is unnerving, but I wonder if Opal will be able to make sense of it. Normally, I don’t indulge in the supernatural, but something about tonight, whether it’s the petty arguing between friends or the mysterious presence of the messages, makes me curious.
I feel the eyes of both women staring at me, waiting for a response.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
14
Candles are scattered aroundthe room, casting shadows along the paneled walls, except for the floor-to-ceiling glass panes connected to the conservatory. In the dark, the surface reflects our images and the flickering flames.
“Please,” Opal says, extending her hand, “have a seat.”
One of Marmee’s narrow end tables has been pulled between us. Lacy black fabric covers it like a tablecloth. On top of it rests a deck of cards.
Opal grabs the stack with both hands and begins shuffling. I’m drawn to the various rings on her fingers, moonstone and black onyx and mixed metals.
“Have you had a reading before?” she asks, smiling.
“Ages ago,” I say. “No offense, this is more of Constance’s thing than mine.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be presenting a five-card cross, which is meant to provide insight into your past, present, and future,” she says, the cards overlapping easily in her hands. “We’ll start your reading with a question. Anything in particular you’d like to focus on?”
“I’m drawing a blank.”
I find it difficult to focus. My attention binds to various items across the room. Family portraits on the walls provide an audience for tonight’s reading and a constant reminder of the past tragedies I can’t escape.
“You’re the birthday girl, right?” she asks. I nod. “Ask a question about the year ahead. It will help you set intentions.”
“Okay,” I say, fighting to hide my annoyance. “What can I expect in the year ahead?”
“See, easy enough,” Opal says, the cards continuing to move rhythmically in her hands. She closes her eyes and inhales before pulling the first card, placing it to my left.
“The Tower,” Opal says, reading the name at the bottom of the card. “This represents your past.”
As expected, the image in front of me depicts a tower, flames climbing from the windows. People appear on either side of the building; they seem to be falling. Jumping?
“You’re going through some intense changes. Something unexpected,” she says.
I’m still staring at the picture, my eyes fixed on the eerie expressions on the characters’ faces. “Yes.” It’s the only word I’m able to manage.
“Whatever you’re going through, you need to let go of old patterns,” she says, “so you can find your most authentic self.”
She begins shuffling again, and I think of everything that’s changed in the past few weeks. I’ve swapped my engagement and wedding for a trip across the world. Unexpected, to say the least.
Opal places another card beside the first. “Three of Swords,” she says. “Your present.”
