by Jill Nojack
She turns the bottom card in the spread, to reveal an image of a man and woman, their arms around each other, with children at their feet and a rainbow overhead.
"This card represents the basis of the issue—it symbolizes relationships, romance. Either the beginning of a new partnership or the fulfillment of one already begun. It can mean marriage and family. It's the underlying reason for the reading. The rest of the cards will reference it."
She turns over the card at the left side of the cross and then the one at the right. "Here, you see, just falling away, the Page of Swords. No knight in shining armor for you, but someone who is in a time of renewal, a time of new beginnings. Someone you already know."
"You've met Tom, I think. I'd say that's probably true."
"And here…this is the near future, what is just now coming to be." She pauses, studying the card, then continues, "The ten of swords is a powerful card. It signifies a crisis or a betrayal."
The dog outside starts barking, and the high-pitched sound is kind of irritating. My forehead tenses as I say, "No, that's in the past. It's done with."
"And yet here it is again…." She taps the card with the long painted nail of her right forefinger before her hand moves on to turn over the card on top of the significator. "This card may shed light on that one to tell us if it's an obstacle, a problem to be solved, or someone who is antagonistic to you."
The turn reveals a beautifully drawn woman with a peaceful expression. Another queen, holding a golden cup.
Cinnamon nods her head. "Yes, then it's a betrayal. But one from someone who's your friend, who holds you in esteem. Someone older perhaps, with powerful intuition and a calming influence. But do not think for a moment that she cannot hold the knife when your back is turned."
"Ummm…a friend is going to betray me?" I cross my arms and I know I'm frowning. I glance to the door where the pup's yelps have faded off to a whiny kind of half-bark. Less irritating.
"Yes, so the cards say. But it's only a possibility, something just now coming to be. We'll look at the influences of your house before we seek the outcome." She turns the cards at the right and moves her fingers down them, touching each card in turn, murmuring.
She turns over the top card in the cross and her eyes widen.
She looks up at me, really sucking me in with those big brown eyes of hers that are shadowed with gold and tinged with pity. When I look away, I'm drawn to the puppy at the door again, and I swear their eyes are the same. Big and brown and pitying.
When I turn back to Cinnamon, she says, "Yes, this woman…" she says, pointing to the queen with the cup, "…someone who is involved with your life in a positive way. She will turn on you. You care about her, but you have been jealous of her, too."
Huh. That's not good. She's said nothing about the pretty Tom babies I've been picturing. "Basically, you're saying my life, which has been pretty good lately, is going to start to suck?"
I hope for a smile or something so we can share in the joke, but she's really flat about it when she says, "Yes, your life will change soon." She points to the card at the top. "This is the Three of Cups, reversed. In the end, there is a third party in your relationship. You must be vigilant to make sure you don't lose everything."
"No way you're talking about Tom, my boyfriend. Someone's going to take him? He's going to cheat on me? No. He isn't like that." And then I remember how he used to be before I knew him. But that was over forty years ago. He's had a lot of time to regret his behavior and get his act together since then. He learned a lot from being trapped in a cat. Which happened because he was cheating on his wife with my granny. Which sounds really bad when I think about it that way. But I'm sticking to my guns. Tom isn't like that. I say, "I mean, he's not like that now. Definitely. He's changed."
"The cards are clear on this. You'll be betrayed."
I stand up abruptly. She's just pissing me off now. Basically, she's saying Tom's going to do exactly the same thing to me that my ex-fiancee Dan did.
"Look, I'll call you about the readings, right?" I start folding up the card table to put it away. Maybe I'm a little rough: the legs snap loudly as they clip into their slots. She steps away fast to stay out of my way. I'm not sure I want her doing readings if she's going to give out gloom and doom predictions to the customers. I mean, what woman would want to spend money on lotions and potions when she's just been told her boyfriend is going to go off with another woman?
But mine's not. Definitely and completely not. I don't think Cinnamon knows anything about reading the cards, after all.
As she leaves, that pup finds its moment and sneaks in, nearly making her trip as he slips under her skirt and between her legs in a rush. And then he's there in front of me, staring up at me with those big, brown, pitying eyes. It feels…personal. Like he's telling me he's here for me. That he understands.
Yep, after a dire reading like that one, I really do need some puppy love. But Tom is going to kill me if he finds out this dog is in the shop. I bend and pick it up. As I carry it out, I hold it away from my body so it can't give me a slurp. When we get outside, I set it down gently, giving it a soft push on its way before I shut the door behind it.
***
I hear a low moan, and an "ouch" floats down the hall from the parlor, alerting me that my Tomcat is back from his hunt. Tom's transformation is always painful, but he says he owes a lot to Cat and doesn't want to coop him up all the time. Plus, it's not pretty when the Cat starts to take over the man.
I'm not sure how it all works, but I have no problem with his hunting expeditions. It's kind of his version of boy's night out. And anyway, Cat is part of our lives. Tom's needing to shift every so often is our normal. It's no big deal.
No big deal. Wow. My concept of reality sure has changed since Granny Eunice died and I was introduced to the supernatural world she hid from me.
I hope I've wiped off all evidence of doggy visitors so that I'm not in for a lecture. I scrubbed the cheek where the pup kissed me for at least five minutes just to make sure.
My cleansing efforts must have been effective. Strong arms slip around my waist from behind and snug me up tight. I never hear him coming: he really is stealthy as a cat. I tingle all over when he pushes my hair aside. First his warm breath, and then his lips, graze my neck. He smells musky, still wearing our night of love-making.
"Stop it! You're such a tease. You know I have to work!" I pivot to him, leaning against the counter and raising my arms to hug him around his broad shoulders without ever breaking the body contact between us.
He smiles down at me. "Close the shop. You need a vacation."
We separate a little. Not a lot. Just enough so we can see each other's faces while we talk. I'm not letting go just yet. "And who will put food on your table if I blow off all my duties?" I ask.
"Oh, I see how it is." He grins. "Well, pretty soon, I'll be putting the food on your table. On a whole bunch of tables. I can't stop thinking about the diner. I had no idea I'd want it this much."
I raise a hand to the side of his face. He looks so darn sweet all lit up with excitement about getting his family's business back. How could anyone even suggest this guy would run around on me?
"Do you think it's legal for two people to be so happy?" I ask.
"Probably not. We're criminals, the two of us. Lo-o-ove criminals."
It sounds stupid, but I can't help it. I laugh anyway.
"Hey…Cinnamon Brown, you know her?" He nods, and I continue, "She was in here earlier because she wants to set up to do tarot readings from the shop, and I couldn't resist getting a free reading, but…" I stop, thinking of what I should tell him about it. There's no reason he should feel bad. He hasn't done anything.
His eyes seek mine out, appraising my expression. "She said something that rattled you."
I shrug. "It was just dumb, I guess. She had the past and the present pegged, but when she told me about my future, well…she suggested that there would be loss and betrayal—
that basically, my lover was going to man-whore around on me, and I had to be careful or I could lose everything."
His brows furrow as he says, "Really? And which lover is that, because it sure ain't me—you're stuck with me, babe." His hand moves under my chin and gently lifts my face to his. "Man, if you don't know that by now, how can I ever convince you?"
I melt. I always melt when he gets that look. The look that says I'm the best thing he's ever seen, his eyes dilated and boring straight into mine. Who could fake that look? What else can I say but, "Yeah, dumb, right?"
He pulls me in for a long, reassuring kiss, his lips soft and warm against mine like they were made just for me. Why did I even give that stupid reading one milli-moment of thought? This guy fought and defeated a demon for me! How could I doubt him?
Then, his fingers pull in like claws across my back and disrupt the caress. He lets out a long "ssssss" right by my ear.
I push him away and look up at him, surprised. "Was that a hiss?"
He nods, and his eyebrows lift. He looks just as weirded out as I feel. "Cat took over for a minute. Instinct." He chins toward the door. "There's a dog looking in the window. And Cat doesn't like the looks of him one bit."
I turn, and he's right. The pup is back. "I think he's cute," I say. "Are you sure Cat doesn't want a playmate?"
"Cat and I already have our best possible playmate."
He pulls me close again, and I don't even pretend to resist him.
***
A couple of regulars come in, and Tom and I can't stand around necking like teenagers anymore. I break away from him with a promise for later. Work to do.
He starts on the inventory down in the basement. I keep an eye on the customers while I bag loose teas, grind herbs, and create charms. There's a workspace at the counter specifically for that. The customers enjoy watching the "magic" being created, although the out-of-towners are more amazed by the faint glow at my fingertips that adds the magic to the charms than the locals are.
Funny how you can use magic right out in public and no one questions it. The people who believe in magic would believe it even if it was smoke and mirrors, and the ones who believe that it is smoke and mirrors still get a kick out of it while they try to figure out how it's done. So, I've decided why bother keeping it in the back room anymore, right? It's a draw.
There's a little guy maybe five or six years old with a bright, eager gleam in his eyes standing in front of the counter, watching me select the stones for an amulet. We have a supplier who sends the ones with natural holes. A drilled hole just isn't the same: it won't hang on to the magic that gives the wearer good luck and protection. Once I've strung a few of them onto a leather cord and hold it up to make sure it's aesthetically pleasing, I pass my hand over it, intoning, "For luck, for love, for pleasant things; Be safe, be strong in your wanderings."
Then I pass a little touch of my magic to the amulet like a mini lighting bolt. Flashy, I know. But the kid's eyes get big and round and his mouth turns into a perfect O for just a second. I lean across the counter and hand it to him.
"If you wear this, it will bring you good luck and keep you safe."
He grabs it and runs to his mother who's paging through the spell books, holding it out for her to see. "And it really is magic, mom…'lectricity came from the lady's fingers…"
"Put it back, dear. We're not buying any geegaws today."
I walk over. "No, it's a gift." I crouch down and take it from him to slip it over his head, but I hold off with it in position while I look to his mom for permission. "Everybody can use a little extra luck, right?"
She looks unsure, then says, "Okay. But thank the lady, Jimmy," after deciding I'm probably not some crazed child molester.
After I straighten the stones across his small chest and stand up, he says, "Thank you, lady," and grabs me around the legs with a big hug as his mother turns back to her browsing. I pat him on the head and then head back toward the counter. Cute kid.
Tom is standing behind the register when I join him, he says, "I bet you'd be an amazing mother."
I smile. What can I say? It's not like I haven't been thinking about nesting pretty much constantly for the past couple of weeks. But there's plenty of time, and what Tom and I have is still so new. I say, "Maybe I should start practicing with a pet. You know, like a puppy."
He rolls his eyes up and inclines his head, putting one finger up to his mouth in an exaggerated "let me think" pose and shifts his eyes slightly in another direction every couple of seconds for emphasis. He keeps it up so long that I can't help but giggle and say, "Okay, okay. No puppies."
But the pup with the wet, black nose pressed up against the door glass is at it again when I turn my attention back to charm making, and well…he's awfully cute. I'm sure Cat could get used to him. Because I already kind of feel like he's mine, like he's meant for me.
"Omigod, you guys are so adorable together!"
Daria squees at the selfie I made with Tom this morning.
"I know, right? He's gorgeous." I take my phone back and have to look at the pic for a second myself. "You have to come by the shop and meet him. He's the best."
"What? Even think about walking in to that shop of yours? If my mama finds out about that, she'll snatch me bald, girl. And you know I'll never be so old I'll stop being afraid of my mama."
I give her a broad grin as I think about her mother's stern look over the top of crimson-rimmed glasses that ride low on her nose when she's deciding whether or not you're in trouble. "Nobody will ever be so old that they'll stop being afraid of your mama."
"Your granny wasn't afraid. You ever wonder what went on between those two that got my mama so bent out of shape?"
"Granny Eunice was a special case." Boy was she ever. I'm still sorting it all out in my head—who my real granny was if you strip away all the bad stuff Anat made her do. I think she must have been very brave. I know she fought back against Anat in ways I couldn't when Anat possessed me after Granny died. I wish I'd been able to know Eunice for who she really was. But it's too late. I break out of my reverie and say, "Okay, if you can't come by the shop, then let's all have dinner some time. You can bring a date."
"Like you haven't locked up the only guy over 18 and under 40 who lives within the city limits."
"That's true—you don't see many guys our age around." I don't straighten her out about Tom actually being in his seventies like his friend Robert. Except he's not, not in any real way. It's confusing.
"Mmmm hmmm, and guys our age in chocolate? Nope. I should do what my cousin Keisha did—found herself a job with some rich white guy. Can you believe he gave her a house when he laid off? How crazy is that? She swears every which way all she ever did was clean the house and have a glass of wine with him once in a while. Like she's gonna convince me of that."
I make horselips, blowing air out between them like I'm totally with her. "Pretty crazy."
But I know all about it. And I still hope Keisha never finds out about Kevin's secret visits to her bathroom window while dressed up in the invisibility suit my granny—no, Anat—made for him. I know its wrong to be glad he's dead, but I am. Sucking his life-force out was the one thing that evil-demon bitch goddess did right.
"Look," I say, giving a quick glance down to the time on my phone. "I've gotta go, but as possibly the only still-single representatives of our generation left in Giles, we need to get together more often."
We stand and hug, and she replies, "You got it, girl. And I want to meet that hot guy of yours, see if I can steal him away." She laughs, but the insecure part of me that can't stop thinking about that stupid tarot reading catches and gives a tug at my heart.
***
The pup is sneaking around the trash cans, pushing at the lid of one with the tip of his nose, when I cruise up the alley into the parking space behind the shop. He really must not have anywhere to go, even though he looks pretty well fed for a stray. Still, I don't need him knocking the cans over and ma
king a mess.
"Hey, stay away from those! There's no dinner for you in there," I shout, stepping out of the car before he can do any damage. He looks up, and if a dog's face can look like it's glad to see me, his does. His ears perk up, and I swear he smiles.
Then he comes scampering toward me and jumps up to put his muddy little paws on my clean jeans. He smells like he's had some success at someone's garbage—I get just the tiniest whiff of rotting meat covered by the stronger smell of gardenia—but I can't get mad, can I? He's so darn cute.
I look down at him, knowing I'm smiling like a goof but trying to look super serious. "For real, you need to take off before the cat gets back. He's a mean one. A little guy like you wouldn't stand a chance." And I mean that, too. Cat could take him. He's one fearless feline.
The back door opens and Tom appears in the doorway. The pup turns tail and runs off without a single look back.
"Damn that dog! He already spilled the cans once today and managed to get into the house while I was cleaning up the mess because I forgot to latch the door. It took me forever to catch him and get him back outside. He was all the way upstairs, wreaking havoc."
Tom responds poorly to my cut-the-little-guy-a-break expression. "Oh no, don't use that face on me! If that dog moves in, Cat and I will be moving out. You have no idea what dog smells like until you've experienced dog stink through a cat's nose."
I don't even know how to argue with that. I reply, "Do you see me bringing him in? I'm not bringing him in."
"Well, okay," he says. "As long as you're not bringing him in." He raises one eyebrow way up his forehead and inclines that side of his head toward me. "But you know I'll have to keep an eye on you, right? Night and day, probably."
I give him a tiny eye roll. "Well, if you have to." We grab for each other at the same time, laughing.
