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“Do you want to?”
“No.” I pull back. “I mean, I don’t need to.” “But would it be nice for a change?” “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know, your mom seems to have made a lot of choices for you. Maybe now you can make choices for yourself. Do you want to keep fighting? Or do you want something else?”
“I don’t want to make a decision that hurts anyone.”
Arrow’s face softens and for the first time, his dark eyes seem a comfort instead of a threat. “That’s what I love about you, Lark... You care about people–you care about your mom. That’s how I know it’s all going to be okay. Maybe not how we planned, but you’re going to be okay, Lark. Maybe just, you know, start with forgiveness?”
“Forgiveness, huh?” I look at him with a smile, the idea of making amends with my mom feels overwhelming. But also important. “You seem to have it all figured out and under control. Cool, calm, collected.”
He shakes his head, his eyebrows raised. “No, I’m just as nervous as you. I’m not experienced, either.”
“Oh?”
The cab pulls up to my house, but I don’t move. Neither does he.
“No. That’s why I wanted to ride over with you. I wasn’t sure how tonight might go, but I want you to know, I’m a virgin. The other guys aren’t, and I don’t want to ruin this night for you.”
“You won’t ruin anything, Arrow. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
I lean over and kiss his lips, softly, and then tug on his hand, leading him to my house. Neither of us knows where this night might go.
At the front door, I look up and see four hawks perched on the lamppost. I give them a small wave but don’t invite them in. Right now, I feel more comfortable being alone with Arrow.
“My mom will have questions. Just warning you.”
He nods, and I unlock the door. Mom is waiting in the kitchen. Always waiting for me.
It breaks my heart now that I understand why. She’s so scared of losing me. She thinks she already has.
“Lark,” she says with relief. “I was getting so worried.”
“I told you not to worry about me anymore.” I pull Arrow closer. “This is Arrow, a cast mate.”
Mom cocks her head to the side. “What an interesting name.” “He’s a straight shooter, just like the name suggests,” I tell her. “Interesting.” She purses her lips and doesn’t say more. “Mom, don’t be weird.”
“I’m not weird.” She swats the air with her hand. “I’m surprised you’re here, honestly. You’ve been so …”
“I know. I’m trying to sort things out. And I have the show.
And … I just stopped by to get a change of clothes.”
“You’ll be gone all night then?” she asks, tears springing to her eyes.
“Yes, Mom, I will.”
“Right, well, then.” She wipes her eyes and takes a long, deep breath. “Before you go, do you want a reading, Arrow?”
He looks at me and I shrug, knowing this is her signature move. “Just one card though, Mom.”
The fact Arrow agrees to the reading makes Mom happy, and she reaches into a cabinet for her favorite deck. I put on the teakettle and pull down three mugs as Mom begins shuffling her cards, telling Arrow to sit across from her.
“Have you just flown into town, then?” she asks. I turn to her and flash her a look of warning.
“What?” Mom smiles. “It’s not a secret. And I can tell you’ve talked things out with him. I’m glad. You need to have people who understand you.”
“I’m not a bird, though, am I?” I ask.
Mom though, just shrugs. “I don’t actually think I have any idea what you are, Lark.”
My fingers tense as I grab tea bags. “Neither do I.”
Mom closes her eyes and begins to breathe deeply, hovering her hands over the deck and whispering an incantation I haven’t a clue about.
The kettle whistles and I pour the water and then deliver the mugs to the table. I sit next to Arrow and squeeze his knee. As if he needs assurance, which I highly doubt.
He may say he is inexperienced, but there is something about him that screams absolute control.
“Cut the deck, please,” she instructs him. And he does, straight down the middle.
“Alright, love,” she says, smiling. Her silver hair is piled up high on her head and her cheekbones are pronounced. Sitting here, I can’t help but feel a surge of love toward her.
She nods as if knowing what she’d pull. She sets it on the table, the Ace of Arrows.
“What does it mean?” he asks.
Mom explains: “This suit represents the rational mind and its ability to discriminate. Swords cut through things in order to pierce illusion, to differentiate between fantasy and reality.”
“Which means?” he asks.
“It means my daughter would be wise to listen to you. You know what you’re here for, and you’ll accomplish what you’ve set out to do.”
