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“I’d like a barbecue to grill and a campfire to cuddle by at night in a flannel blanket and listen to the ocean sing.”
“Sing us more poetry,” my dad mutters sarcastically.
I catch Bexley stealing a look at me. The thing she doesn’t know is I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since that night. And the woman I see myself snuggled beside the fire with is her.
“Until then, I’m staying above your shop with Rock.” My dad doesn’t look impressed. I don’t really care.
The waitress takes our order, and soon our frosted beer mugs and food arrive. I eat my dessert as they eat supper. The conversation moves from awkward to casual quickly, easily. I’m sure the liquid gold is assisting with relaxing the mood. By the end of the hour, we’re all joking and laughing.
“Hey, stranger.” A wrinkled hand squeezes my father’s shoulder.
I tilt my head to an older woman wearing a slew of layered pearl necklaces of all different sizes. She’s adorned in so many I only see the black sparkly sleeve of her blouse.
“Rune.” My dad casually nods in her direction, but I catch a hint of something between the two. Something simmering. Tension. Or... lust.
“I was sent here to read a couple of palms.” She lowers herself beside my dad. He scoots over, but not like Bexley did with me. He makes sure he’s close enough that his side rubs Rune’s side.
“You know I don’t believe in that mumble jumble.” My dad clasps his hands around his mug.
“I’m not here for you.” Rune's eyes swoop between Bexley and me. “Who’s first?”
“Who would send you to read our palms?” Bexley squashes her hands together.
“The same three who tried to convince the bartender to spike your drinks with the love spice.” Rune points at the bar.
The trio tries to scatter, only to bump into one another in a tireless effort that gets them nowhere.
“Of course, it’s them,” Bexley mutters.
I lay my hand on the table, palm facing up. “You can read mine.”
“Perfect.” The older woman takes my hand in hers.
Her wrinkled hands are surprisingly soft. She flips my palm over on her palm and runs her other hand over the top of mine. It’s as if she’s petting me. She does this long enough that I share a questioning look with Bexley. Then she flips my hand over, palm up. She rests her palm flesh on mine and squeezes.
“I’m identifying the energy of your handshake.” She continued to squeeze in different angles before pressing her thumbs along the side. “You have some bounce here which tells me you have energy.” She holds my hand up, palm facing her. She lets go of my hand. “I need a second to acclimate myself to the hand and see what’s going on here.”
Seconds ticks by before she lifts one of her pearl necklaces from the pile. A magnifying glass with flowers around the top edge hangs in the middle of the necklace.
“I like to look through a magnifying glass because it extricates the map of your palm.” She examines my hand under the dim light hanging above us. “I see one long, deep line. You are very lucky.”
“I’m very lucky.” I wink at Bexley.
“This means there is one deep, true love. The lines on this hand show whose heart you’ll have influence upon.” Rune takes my other hand. “The lines of this hand show who impresses your heart.” She holds my hands side-by-side, palms facing upward. “See here? You have equal strengths in both hands at the same time. The greatest pleasure is to find equal strengths. This shows influence goes back and forth equally.”
“Which means?”
“A love is blooming. Feelings are going back and forth.”
Bexley makes a snorting sound as she reaches for her drink.
Rune catches her hand and flips it over. “Let me see your other hand.”
Bexley’s jaw tightens.
“Give my lady your hand,” my dad says.
Bexley gruntingly passes her hand over.
