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There’s a certain rightness to everything she said. And I don’t mean right in the sense of yes, something’s going to happen. I mean right in the sense of something inside me feels what she’s saying.
Something inside me believes what these cards are telling me.
She’s staring at them right now. Playing with her lip ring with her tongue, fidgeting with her fingers.
Does she always stare at the cards this long after she draws them?
I almost feel like she’s in some kind of trance.
Finally she draws in a deep breath and looks up, meeting my gaze. “I’m not sure I did the best job on your reading.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because when I infused the cards with my energy, instead of focusing on your question, I was focusing on our question.”
“Except it’s the same question,” I say.
“True. But this reading…” She glances down, stares at the spread. “I feel like it’s not just for you. It’s for both of us.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not in the way you mean,” she says. “But as the interpreter of the cards, I can’t allow my own questions to get in the way of interpretation for someone else. I’m afraid I did here.”
“If we both have the same question…”
“Right. We do. But the way this affects both of us could be very different. I’m not sure I did you justice with this reading.”
“Maybe you did. Maybe the reading was for both of us.” I trail my finger over her forearm.
“That’s the feeling I’m getting,” she says, “but we’re two different individuals, Brendan. So these cards could—should—have two different meanings for both of us.”
“But that’s not what you’re feeling?”
“No. It’s not what I’m feeling at all.”
“I’m trying to understand, Ava.”
“I know you are, and I appreciate that. You’re a good friend, Brendan.”
Uh-oh. Heart to gut again.
The F-word.
Surely, after last night, she doesn’t think of me as merely a friend.
I try to put that in the back of my mind for now.
“So you’re as adrift as I am,” I say.
“In a way.” She stares down at the spread again. “But as I look at all three of these cards together, and especially the devil in reverse, what I’m seeing is a challenge. A challenge to our vision of ourselves.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Do you know who you are, Brendan?”
I hold back a chuckle. “Yeah. I’m Brendan Murphy. I’ve been Brendan Murphy for thirty-five years.”
“Right. Brendan Murphy. And I’m Ava Steel. And I feel like I’ve always had a very good idea of who I am. I’m not the typical Steel.”
“That’s what I like about you,” I say.
“You mean you don’t like the Steels?”
“God, no. I love the Steels. You’re all great. But you… You’re not afraid to be yourself, Ava, and not only do I respect the hell out of that, I also think it makes you unique. I like unique. I like you.”
She blushes then. “I like you too, Brendan. Exactly as you are.”
I lift my eyebrows. Maybe we are friends. Friends are good, and friendship is a solid basis for something more. “Then we seem to have a mutual admiration society.”
“I think we need to be confident in who we are,” she says.
“I can’t recall a time when I wasn’t.”
“Me neither. But I’m concerned.” She looks into my eyes for a moment but then breaks her gaze away. “I’m concerned about this hostility I’m feeling toward Brock. It’s not like me.”
“I’m concerned as well,” I say. “About my mother and father. My mother’s freaked out that my dad’s going to go off the deep end searching for answers about his uncle again, and now, after this reading? I’m kind of concerned about that too.”
“So you see what I’m saying?” Ava says. “Already we’re having new feelings about our families. And that could lead us to question who we are at our very core.”
“I don’t see how it could lead that way.”
“Good. Don’t let it.” She finally picks up the cards, adds them to the deck, shuffles them, and wraps them in the scarf.
An odd feeling of calm settles over me. Relief, almost. Relief that the cards are no longer on the table.
“You don’t let it either,” I tell her.
“I won’t,” she says. “Or I’ll do my damned best anyway.”
She rises, walks back to the bureau, and places the cards back into the wooden box. Then she makes some notes in a leatherbound journal.
“I kind of put a downer on this evening,” she says when she returns to the table.
“I asked for the reading,” I say. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
“I think we both need to understand,” she says, “that this isn’t a negative reading. No reading is either positive or negative. It’s simply guidance from the cards and from the reader’s intuition.”
“Right. I understand that. I think the guidance here is that whatever is behind this mystery may lead us to question who we are. We need to work against that.”
