by Erin Zak
“Oh no.” Stevie waved her hands back and forth. “I’m not here for a reading. I don’t want—”
“She insists,” the brunette said as she motioned toward the chair in front of the maroon velvet-covered table. Her eyes were so brown, so kind, and her makeup was flawless. Stevie found herself studying her subtle but perfect winged eyeliner and her very beautiful eyelashes.
Stevie licked her lips and thought how easy it would be to leave right now and get the hell out of there. She didn’t want a reading for numerous reasons, but maybe the most ridiculous reason was because she had no idea what to expect or how to feel. If it was a bunch of hocus-pocus she didn’t believe in, why, oh why did she feel something in the pit of her stomach urging her to stay?
Urging her to sit next to the beautiful brunette, listen to her speak.
Maybe those damn cards would tell her something she wanted to know. Or maybe those damn cards would tell her exactly what she didn’t want to know. She felt her resolve melting. So much for standing her ground. “Fuck it,” she mumbled as she headed around Constance to the chair in front of the table. She sat and closed her eyes. Please, whatever higher power is listening, forgive me. I don’t know what I believe in, but please, don’t let this be a bad idea. When she opened her eyes, Constance was sitting in front of her, a deck of very worn tarot cards facedown on the table. She quickly looked from the cards to Constance, then back to the cards. She could see the brunette sitting next to her out of her peripheral vision, but she could also feel her, which was unnerving. She could smell the brunette’s perfume over the patchouli and incense. The scent was forcing her to focus on the heat radiating off the brunette’s body. She glanced over at her profile, at her nose and the outline of her lips.
“Eyes forward,” the brunette said softly. Her eyes darted to Stevie’s, then back to Constance. “You talk, I sign. She can read your lips, but your eye contact makes it easier for her and her connection with you and the cards. I’ll interpret for you, but please pay attention to her.” She used sign language while she spoke. Stevie’s eyes were glued to her hands, her fingers, the way they moved around the words. This woman was stunning. And Stevie felt every nerve in her body paying attention.
Chapter Three
“Tell her your name,” Bernadette said to the woman sitting next to her. She could practically taste the nervous electricity filling the room. The woman couldn’t be more than thirty, but she held herself as if she was older, wiser, and had seen some tough times that aged her soul. When she turned her head to answer, Bernadette smiled and pointed toward Connie. “Not to me. To Constance.” It was always weird for people when they communicated with a deaf person for the first time. Half of the session was always her correcting where the person should look.
“Stevie.”
Bernadette watched Connie’s expression and then her sign language. “Is Stevie your real name?”
“Yes. Well, I mean, sort of.”
Connie smiled as Bernadette signed Stevie’s response. She raised an eyebrow.
“Stevie is my middle name.”
Connie signed, and Bernadette said, “First name?” She watched the rise and fall of Stevie’s chest from under the black leather jacket she was wearing. Her blond hair was wavy and fell right below her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it and pushed the right side behind her ear. It gave Bernadette better viewing access to her facial expressions, which thrilled her. There was something about this woman she couldn’t put her finger on. She was stirring something in the pit of Bernadette’s stomach, though. Something that had lain dormant for quite some time.
“Lynnette. My whole name is Lynnette Steven Adams. Steven was my grandfather’s name. I don’t know, Stevie suits me, I guess. I’m confused. Is all of this necessary?”
Bernadette wanted to answer, but she signed each letter of Stevie’s name, and for some reason, her heart was beating way harder than normal.
Connie signed, “It does suit you. It all matters because it helps me know the person.” Bernadette interpreted as Connie picked up the tarot cards and handed them to Stevie. “Hold the cards.”
“Hold them?” Stevie asked, her face turned toward Bernadette.
Bernadette smiled and pointed again at Connie. “Yes, hold them. And then shuffle them. Shuffling transfers your energy to the cards.”
“My energy?”
“Yes, your energy.”
Bernadette leaned forward and watched Connie sign, “Please explain to her that I sensed something and want to explore it. I will not be offended if she wants to leave.”
“You want me to explain to her? With my own words?”
Connie nodded, and Bernadette felt a lump form in her throat. It was severely frowned upon for Bernadette to step out of the interpreter role. When she first started interpreting for Connie years ago, it was made very clear to her she could never paraphrase. Connie was explicit with her instructions when she begged Bernadette to interpret her psychic readings. Bernadette was told she would, to the best of her abilities, interpret every single word. Nothing could be left out. Nothing could be said in a different way. The readings were only accurate if what Connie saw and signed was delivered with pinpoint accuracy. Bernadette’s job was to interpret. Period. So being asked to use her own words was freaking her out. She had no clue what to say.
A part of her wanted to tell this Stevie woman to leave and do so quickly, because since the moment she’d stumbled through the beaded curtain, something in Bernadette’s world felt off. Or maybe something in her world finally felt on? Either way, the connection Bernadette felt when their hands touched was something she did not need, but damn, she wanted to explore it. Everything happened for a reason, though. Bernadette signed, “Okay,” then turned to Stevie and said, “I realize you might not be prepared for this.” She admired Stevie, who kept her eyes glued straight ahead. “You can look at me.” Stevie turned her head and locked her gaze on Bernadette. Her eyes were so blue, but they were filling with tears, and Bernadette felt the same zap of electricity that she felt earlier when she helped steady Stevie with her hand. It made her chest tighten. “Would you like to stop? She’s doing this for free for you. So it’s no skin off either of our backs if you’d like to meet up with your friends. No hard feelings. I promise.”
Stevie licked her lips. They were full and pink, and she clearly had been nibbling on them because they looked a little chapped. “I don’t want to stop. I’m a little nervous.”
“It’s understandable,” Bernadette said softly. She placed her hand on Stevie’s knee and moved it as soon as she realized what she had done. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I’m not usually so absentminded.”
Stevie’s eyes softened, and the trace of tears vanished. “So shuffle the cards?”
Bernadette nodded after she clasped her hands in her lap. She was being so unprofessional. Dammit, why did Connie ask her to explain things in her own words? Coloring outside the lines was not her strong suit, and Connie knew that. She followed the rules. Always. So being asked to break them was causing her anxiety to skyrocket. She pinched the muscle between her thumb and forefinger to stop her hands from fidgeting. “You need to also have some sort of question you’d like answered. You can say it out loud, or you can keep it to yourself. Whatever you’d like to do.” She watched as Stevie took the cards from Connie’s outstretched hand and started to shuffle them.
“Any question at all?”
“Yes. We’ve had people want to know if the Blackhawks were going to win the Cup. But the bulk of the questions are about love and relationships.”
“What’s your name?”
“That can’t be your question,” Bernadette answered quickly.
Stevie smiled as she shuffled, keeping her head bent, almost as if she didn’t want Connie to see what she was saying. “I think I should know it, though, so I don’t have to keep referring to you as the brunette in my head.”
Bernadette breathed in deep and as she exhaled
she whispered, “Bernadette.”
Stevie stopped shuffling for a second, still kept her head bowed, and said, “It suits you.”
“Your question, please?” Bernadette straightened and pulled her shoulders back.
Stevie started to shuffle the cards again. “Any question at all, hmm?”
Bernadette bit the side of her cheek after Connie raised her eyebrows and signed, “Did you tell her what my specialty is?”
“So, it’s important for you to know”—Bernadette paused, and the room went completely silent except for the sound of the cards shuffling—“love readings are what she specializes in, which is why so many people have those questions.” She stared straight ahead, her eyes locked on Connie, Connie’s eyes locked on to Stevie. “And it’s what has garnered her so much attention.”
“I’ve heard.” Stevie continued to shuffle, the worn cards still making an awful lot of noise as her thumbs flipped them together.
“Maybe it’s something you want to know about?” Bernadette shouldn’t have asked that question, but there was something inside her that ignored the ethical internal protest. She watched Connie’s eyes flit to hers, then focus back on Stevie, so she turned her head and looked at Stevie’s profile. She was obviously nervous because her jaw was clenched. “It might be enlightening.”
Stevie’s jaw muscle visibly relaxed, and she shook her head. “I don’t want to know about my love life. I don’t have one. So there’s no need.” Bernadette’s heart sank. She looked at Connie, whose eyes were now closed as she waited for the shuffling of the cards. When Stevie stopped and handed the cards over, she said calmly, “I want to know if my career is going to take off.”
Of course this gorgeous creature next to her wanted to know about her career over love. Bernadette focused on letting go of her disappointment as Connie’s eyes opened.
She signed Stevie’s question to Connie, who smiled, lifted her chin, and nodded slightly before she started to sign how the reading would work. “Keep in mind, this reading will be ten cards drawn in the traditional Celtic cross spread,” Bernadette interpreted. “Each card will be representative of different things pertaining to the question. So your first card”—Bernadette paused and licked her lips—“represents you as a person, the embodiment of who you are pertaining to the question.” Bernadette’s hands were clammy; her heart was still beating extra hard. She felt as nervous as Stevie looked. Why the hell was she letting this random woman affect her? It was throwing her for a loop.
Bernadette saw Stevie nod from her peripheral vision, then watched as Connie did the same before she flipped over the first card.
* * *
“The Fool,” Bernadette said softly.
Stevie’s immediate reaction was to roll her eyes. “The Fool? You’re kidding me, right?”
Bernadette raised a hand as she watched Constance signing. “No, no. This card isn’t necessarily a bad thing. This card means you’re starting a new journey. You’re excited about this journey, whatever it may be.” Bernadette paused as Constance continued to sign. Her hands were moving wildly, but the way the can light above illuminated her, coupled with her being so into whatever she was communicating, made her look sort of…angelic? Stevie blinked, snapping herself out of the trance. Bernadette continued, “The Fool represents numerous things, but the one Constance wants you to focus on is new beginnings. She wants me to point out to you the Fool also represents improvisation and luck.”
“Oh.” Stevie’s brain latched on to the word improvisation, and she couldn’t fight the small smile that formed on her lips. “Can I say something?” She eyed Constance, then turned back toward Bernadette. “I’m an improv actor.”
Bernadette’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched as she met her gaze, and Stevie felt a tremor roll through her body. “See?” she asked in a tone filled with I told you so. Bernadette’s attention was back on Constance in the blink of an eye. “The next card.”
Stevie wanted to keep her eyes on the captivating woman next to her, but she’d already been reprimanded twice for not keeping her eyes on Constance, so she locked her gaze on the cards.
Bernadette interpreted, “This card is basically what is working against you.”
Constance flipped the card over. “Oh.”
Stevie’s eyes snapped up to Constance’s. “Did you say oh?”
“Yes,” Bernadette said. “She did. Because that card is called the Lovers.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Stevie’s heartbeat was racing, and she had no idea why. She watched Constance’s signs, the way she hit her hands together a couple times. The sound of the smacking was so forceful, and Stevie didn’t even know what was being communicated.
“The Lovers is a complicated card.” Bernadette leaned forward and pointed at the card lying across the Fool. “You can take it at face value and say love will be what holds you back—”
“Nope. Not possible.” Stevie didn’t even hesitate to cut off Bernadette’s explanation.
“Okay, then.”
“What else can it mean?”
“Decisions.”
“I’ll take that.”
“About love…”
“Nope.” Her tone was defiant, and Bernadette chuckled. “What the hell are you laughing at?”
“You.” Bernadette’s answer was soft as she pulled her hands back into her lap. “This card is about choices pertaining to love. Decisions. Sacrifices. All pertaining to love. Turning down one person to be with another. Or sacrificing a way of life to gain a partner, which will ultimately make the person happier even if the sacrifice was heart-wrenching. I can tell you hate the idea of love, or loving someone, but unfortunately, in this circumstance, it’s what this card means.”
“So love is going to cross me, is what you’re saying?” Stevie stared at Constance, waited for a response, and when Constance nodded, she sighed. “Fine. Go on.” The next two cards were flipped over in succession.
“What crowns you and what is beneath you. Two very important cards,” Bernadette explained while Constance signed. “Above you, crowning you, is…”
Stevie could tell whatever the card meant was something Bernadette didn’t want to say. “Does this card have to do with love, too?” She hoped her irritation wasn’t too obvious, but it must have been because even Constance looked frustrated.
“Yeah, so…” Bernadette sighed. “This card is called the Two of Cups. It’s, um…It basically means marriage.”
“Of course it does.”
“Look, Stevie, this isn’t a bad reading.” For some reason, Bernadette’s pleading tone made her throat ache. “This,” Bernadette said as she motioned to the card, “can mean a business partnership. Not only marriage. It is not a bad thing.”
Stevie grabbed the card and held it up to peer at it closely. “But it normally means marriage, right?”
“Yes,” Constance said, and again it seemed as if when she spoke, it made the air in the room stand still.
Bernadette cleared her throat. “She also signed you’re going to meet someone…” She paused and bit her lip. Stevie was staring at her intently now. “Who will change everything about who you are…” Another pause, and after a very visible deep breath, she finished with, “You should prepare yourself. Are you prepared?”
The goose bumps that erupted on Stevie’s body when Bernadette said those words were ridiculous. Prepared? No. She was not prepared. She would never be prepared. All of this was not what she wanted from the reading. Why was it happening?
Stevie set the card down and rolled her hand in the air, motioning for the reading to keep going. Her heart was in her throat now, securely lodged right beneath the aching feeling. She could hear everything so clearly. The hum of an old radiator coming to life, the tick-tock of a metronome, the gentle inhale and exhale of Bernadette’s breathing next to her. The reading was making her so uncomfortable. She felt as if all five of her senses were on fire. Even the smells in the room were vivid. Bernadette’s perfume, Cons
tance’s breath when it rushed across the table as she exhaled, the incense burning in the corner of the dark room.
“This card, beneath you, is the Three of Swords.” Bernadette’s voice broke Stevie’s concentration, for which she was grateful. She needed to stop her skin from crawling right off her body. “This is the foundation of your question, why you are so career driven…Upright as it sits now, the swords are through the heart. This card means sorrow.”
Stevie could feel Bernadette’s eyes on her, so she closed her eyes. She knew what was coming.
“Extreme heartbreak.”
Again, the noises in the room were almost deafening as Stevie heard and felt Bernadette shift in her seat.
“Grief and sadness.”
Those words opened the floodgates. Stevie’s eyes filled with tears, and she clamped them shut even harder. She was not going to cry during a reading.
“You have never been sure, and you want so badly to be sure…of something. Of anything. You have used whatever happened in your life to drive you, though. It’s been a difficult road, hasn’t it?”
Stevie opened her eyes, and tears slid one by one down her cheeks. “Yes,” she answered with a strained voice. She quickly glanced at Bernadette, then back at Constance, then stared directly at the Three of Swords. Me. Mom. Dad.
“Sometimes, pain can be beautiful,” Bernadette whispered. Stevie wished Bernadette had been the one to say that, but she could see Constance’s signs before Bernadette spoke, so it must have been her interpreting. “So, the next card.” Bernadette waited for Constance to turn over two more cards. “What’s in front of you and what’s behind you.”
Stevie wasn’t sure what to expect, especially since the range of emotions she already experienced was all over the freaking place. Instead of staring at the cards and waiting, she closed her eyes. Breathe.
“Behind you, which is affecting you and your situation, is the Queen of Wands.”
For the first time since the reading started, Stevie did not dread what was going to be said. She wasn’t sure why, though. Maybe it was the sound of Bernadette’s voice. She opened her eyes, glanced at Bernadette, at the smile on her lips. The light from the dancing candle flame on the table flickered in Bernadette’s eyes. It felt strangely relaxing to Stevie, and she was so happy for the break in nervousness.
