In the Cards: A Novel (Tricia Seaver Mystery Book 1)

by Amy Isaman

  Darius laughed. “Laurel, there’s actually a book shop not far from the Inn that offers readings.”

  “You’re encouraging her?” Tricia asked, shaking her head. “No way. We are not using any of our precious time here in London getting a tarot reading.”

  Darius’ comment got Laurel’s attention. She stopped perusing the cards. “Really? Close to here?” she asked, ignoring her mother’s obvious glaring.

  “A kilometer or two,” he said. “Not too far.”

  “Laurel, we were planning on walking to Kensington Palace after the museum.”

  “Mom, we’ve had a change in plans.” She grinned. “And I’m in charge of our itinerary, remember? You’re trying to be your old spontaneous self and let go of your constant need to have a ‘plan.’ It’ll be fun.”

  “Right, but spontaneous is more like, let’s stop in this pub we’ve never been to for a dish we’ve never tried. Not, let’s go meet with some supposed psychic and learn the future.”

  “What, exactly, is the difference between stopping at this bookshop for a tarot reading or stopping at a pub for some food?”

  Tricia tapped her foot for a moment before speaking. “The difference is that it doesn’t really sound like much fun. It feels stressful to me. Even if they can divine the future, why would I want to know my future?” She raised her eyebrows at her daughter but didn’t wait for an answer. “Except I don’t think they can which means they’re going to tell me a bunch of stuff that I’ll have to decipher or they’ll give some sort of generic fortune, like I’ll meet a dark, handsome stranger. I don’t want to waste any of my brain space on it. So, we’re going to Kensington Palace.” She turned to leave the card gallery. “You coming?” she asked over her shoulder, pausing to wait for them.

  “Mom, that’s the point. To have fun and not waste brain space. Are you hungry? Do you need a snack?” She could get grumpy if she hadn’t eaten, like a child.

  “Ah, there’s a lovely shop down the street where we can get some tea,” Darius said. “Shall we stop?”

  Tricia rolled her eyes at Laurel. “Tea would be lovely, but I’m not getting a tarot reading.”

  Laurel smiled, ignoring her mom’s ultimatum. She draped her arm across her mom’s shoulder as they left the exhibit. “Maybe we can have our tea leaves read, too?”

  Tricia elbowed her daughter. “You’re not funny.”

  “Mom, I’ll go first, and if it’s too freaky, you don’t have to have a reading. Okay? And we can do a short one for you. You don’t have to do a big huge card spread. Darius, would you like to join us?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll join you for tea, and then I’ve got to get back. I’ve got some new guests checking in early this evening.”

  Tricia nodded, a chagrined look on her face. “I’ve lost this one, haven’t I?”

  Laurel nodded. She and her stubborn mother had weathered many storms because Laurel was just as stubborn. It made for an interesting few years when she was in high school, but they learned to compromise and pick their battles for what really mattered, not that they had many anymore.

  Tricia finally spoke again once they left the museum. “What does that even mean? ‘Card spread’?”

  Laurel patted her shoulder. “It’s just how they lay the cards on the table, that’s all. Depending on where they put the card, they interpret it differently.” An official tarot reading actually sounded like fun. And she was dying to ask the reader if Darius was going to play a bigger role in her mom’s life. She didn’t know if she could ask that for her mom or not, or if the cards could even answer but what the heck. It’d be fun to check it out. Darius walked in front of them. A little summer fling couldn’t hurt. Could it?

  Chapter 5

  FOLLOWING TEA, THE TAXI dropped us on the curb directly in front of the bookstore, which looked like a perfectly normal shop. A curved purple awning extended across a bank of large windows, and three bells hanging from the door’s handle tinkled as Laurel pulled it open.

  Crossing the shop’s threshold, I felt like Harry Potter entering Diagon Alley shopping for a new wand or spell book.

  I’m not sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. This bookshop was light and airy, with large windows fronting the street. It was part gift shop with a variety of crystals, oils, journals, and candles, while the other half held books organized by occult subject. It actually looked quite academic.

  As I glanced around, I bit back a smile at my preconceived notions. What exactly had I expected? Bubbling cauldrons stewing away with potions lining the walls? I joined Laurel at the counter.

  “Two tarot readings, please.” She smiled sweetly at the gentleman.

  “You know, sweetie, I don’t want one. If you want to do it, that’s great. I’ll wait out here or go in with you, but I’m gonna pass.” This whole thing went against all of my philosophical beliefs about life. And I didn’t want to know my future.

  She ignored me, again. “Do we need to make an appointment?”

  When did my daughter become such a bully? I felt completely invisible. I know I agreed, but really? I could feel anxiety burbling slowly in my gut as she continued to talk to the proprietor.

  “It looks like we’ve got openings. Our reader will be ready in about ten minutes if that works.”

  Laurel nodded. “Perfect.”

  “Laur, really.” I set my hand on her arm. “I’m not interested.”

  She sighed and gave me a somewhat pleading look. “I know that this is totally out of your comfort zone, but can you try it? Please?”

  I dropped my hand from her arm and sighed. God, I was weak when it came to my kids. “Okay, fine. I’ll do this for you, but don’t give her any hints.”

  “Hints? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, don’t tell her anything about us. Let’s see what she knows without us giving it all away.”

  “Mom, she’s not a psychic. She’s a tarot reader.”

  “Well, what’s the difference? Aren’t the cards all about divination? Telling the future?”

  “Well, not really. Maybe she’s psychic, but she’ll probably just see what cards come up and interpret them. She’s not going to just look at you and tell you your future.”

  “Actually, your daughter’s correct,” the clerk interrupted. “Most of our readers are quite intuitive, and while they may pick up on some energy or ideas that they may share, they’ll focus on the cards. Your reader is Tori. She’s excellent. I think you’ll enjoy it.” The clerk handed Laurel the receipt. “I’ll let you know when she’s ready. We’ve got some chairs over there if you’d like to sit.” He waved toward a little sitting area. “Or you may browse the shop until she’s ready.”

  I wondered about our tarot reader. Tori? Was that short for Victoria? That sounded old-fashioned, but I imagined a tarot reader would be all new-agey, speaking in soft tones and wearing some sort of turban. I took a deep breath and tried to rid myself of this judgmental bitchiness. This wasn’t like me. I grew up in Idaho and moved to San Francisco within days of graduating from high school to study art. I loved it there. I backpacked all over southeast Asia as a young woman. I used to dive into adventures. I traveled and thought of myself as open-minded and accepting, so I didn’t like what this whole experience was bringing out in me. Losing Bret not only made me afraid of losing all that I loved, but I also apparently had become terrified of living.

  I told myself that I was doing this for my daughter, but I still wanted to get it over with and head to Kensington Palace as soon as we could. I wanted to see Lady Di’s former home, as I’d always admired her. She never lost her courage like I’d lost mine.

  I wandered the bookshop aisles, stunned at the sheer number of titles in the occult. I had no idea this was such a huge industry. Apparently, my skepticism wasn’t a shared feeling. Somebody bought this stuff.

  “Mom,” Laurel said, waving at me from across the store. “She’s ready for us.”

  I made my way across the store to the b
ack where Laurel stood. This whole idea had me all wadded up inside, which was ridiculous. I didn’t believe in this stuff, but that damn “Death” card terrified me. What if I saw it again? I couldn’t lose anyone else. Especially my children. Loss and the fear of more loss welled up within me, momentarily taking my breath and almost extinguishing the small flame of courage I’d managed to light.

  “You okay?” Laurel asked, concern etching her face. “You know, this is for fun. Just relax. Breathe.”

  I pasted a smile on my face and made a valiant but ultimately failed attempt at shrugging off my doomsday feelings. “I’m ready. You want to do this, so let’s do it.”

  “Okay then. Do you want to go first or should I?” Laurel followed the clerk’s lead and walked toward a door on the back wall that I hadn’t noticed.

  ♦♦♦

  “You’re going first,” I stated without hesitation. We walked down a hallway and into a smaller, brightly lit room that didn’t have any windows. A cloth-covered table sat in the middle of the room, and a perfectly normal-looking woman sat behind the table. She was in her late forties or early fifties with a chin-length blonde bob. She wore a loose white t-shirt, jeans, and flats, the least fortune-teller-ish outfit I could possibly imagine a tarot reader wearing. It instantly eased some of my worries.

  The reader stood and reached out her hand. “Hi, I’m Tori Pembroke.” She waved her hand at the two chairs facing her table, directing us to sit.

  Laurel took the chair closest to her.

  “Have you ever had a reading before?” Her blue eyes pierced me with their open candor, and my stomach leapt again. I felt like she not only looked at me but sort of through me.

  Laurel shook her head. “And my mom’s a little nervous about it.”

  “Ah, you’re American. Is this your first visit to London?” she asked.

  “It’s my first visit, but my mom’s been here before. Years ago,” Laurel conceded.

  “Are you staying nearby? I’m curious as to how you found us.”

  “We’re staying at the Silver Birch Inn,” I finally answered while Laurel fidgeted in her chair. I couldn’t see how that bit of information could hurt. “Are you familiar with it?”

  Tori grinned. “Quite familiar actually. Darius is, shall we say, an old friend.”

  Now I wanted to ask questions, but Tori continued without giving me a chance. “Why don’t we take a minute, and I’ll explain what I do here.”

  Ten minutes later, we’d gotten a brief history on the tarot and on Tori’s beliefs about the cards. She also wanted to know our questions for the reading, which sent my panic up another notch. Questions? What questions? Apparently, my unease was apparent because Tori reassured me we could do a general reading, one about the best and highest good for my life. That sounded fine.

  As long as I didn’t see that skeletal death card, I thought I might get through this ordeal. And I certainly didn’t want my budding interest in Darius to appear in the cards.

  Tori picked the deck from the table and began shuffling. She laid Laurel’s cards out and began to speak. Apparently big decisions were coming into Laurel’s life, which I could have told her without the help of any cards at all. She’d recently graduated from college and was deciding on her career path.

  The only card that gave me pause, a big pause, showed a big red heart being pierced by three swords. Tori explained that was in the future position and could indicate what might be coming in the next weeks or months.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, though,” Laurel explained, a confused look on her face.

  Tori smiled reassuringly. “Oh, it doesn’t just mean a broken heart as in romantic heartbreak. It could refer to any grief or even a separation that might be difficult. And, you’re at a time in life where you’re making lots of big decisions, decisions that might bring some grief or sadness as you make a transition in your life.”

  I inwardly sighed in relief as she continued on with Laurel’s reading. I had nothing to worry about. She would be making some big decisions that might be hard and cause her some sadness. Wasn’t that part of growing up?

  Chapter 6

  AS SOON AS SHE FINISHED with Laurel, we moved onto my reading. Tori asked me to cut the cards, and she laid them out in a pattern that she called a Celtic Cross. It was the same pattern she’d laid Laurel’s in. She flipped the cards easily, some landed right side up and some upside down. Slight hums reverberated from her as she turned them. None looked deathly to me, though some definitely looked depressing, like the guy struggling to carry a giant bundle of sticks. I definitely felt like that guy. On another card, a man pushed a boat holding a cloaked woman and child across the water with a pole while vertical swords surrounded her. I’d been that woman, and I didn’t want to be her any longer. I was ready to push the boat myself. Near that card, there was also an upside-down hanging man with a halo. Weird.

  Laying out the cards took all of one minute. She tapped her fingers on the center two and began speaking. “You are a remarkable mother, and your children are incredibly important to you. I would say your whole family is. You’re honest and devoted to them, but sometimes life can be a constant battle. You take on so much in caring for others, that it can weigh you down, but you’re not one who gives up easily. Does that resonate with you?” She lifted her face to mine and again looked directly into my eyes.

  Wow. That was my life in a nutshell. She’d nailed me. Bret had lovingly called me his own bulldog, loyal and stubborn. I didn’t give up on those I loved. I nodded slowly and studied the cards. “So, what about the cards told you that?” I braved a glance at Laurel, who was biting back a grin.

  “These two in the center. You’ve got the Queen of Cups, a strong mother, even a creative woman who’s incredibly nurturing. But she’s covered by the Ten of wands here.” She pointed to the guy who was struggling to carry the sticks. “This card is about seeing life as a battle, but notice how he’s carrying the sticks? They’re not all bundled together, which would crush the budding leaves at the top. He’s still working to nurture the wands while shouldering the burden. You take on a lot. Yes?” She raised her eyebrows at me.

  Laurel finally laughed out loud. “Yes,” she said. “My mom takes on everything, for everyone. And she’s an awesome mom.”

  I clasped my hands together in my lap. So far, Tori hadn’t said anything that she couldn’t have figured out already from the external cues. I was here with my daughter. We were obviously Americans visiting London, so if this reader had any intuitive sense at all, she would have been able to figure this all out. Any middle-aged woman who worked and had kids took on a lot. Didn’t we all? Since I was unfamiliar with the cards, she could tell me anything about any card. The skeptic in me had not been silenced.

  “You are also at a fairly big crossroads in your life right now,” she added, and I instantly wondered if that was a standard line. She said the same thing to Laurel. Did she have a list of meanings that pretty much applied to every person, like somebody dear is ill or it’s time to take a break and rest or recuperate? Sentiments like this could probably apply to ninety percent of the western world.

  She continued, “And based on this card here, the one in your recent past, you’ve come through a rough time.” She paused, studying the cards. “It looks like you’ve got some more conflict coming, and the cards are saying that your life view right now is a bit dark, that life is out to get you. See this?” She pointed to a card at the top of the circle. It showed a man with a bandage around his head holding another stick in a defensive position. “This is the nine of wands. The position of this card is a reflection of what your soul is guiding you to. Think of it as your conscious beliefs and this other one below is your unconscious beliefs. It’s an interesting pairing you’ve got with those two cards.”

  I stared at the cards she pointed out but didn’t understand the imagery on them. The one for my unconscious belief was the weird upside-down guy.

  As she studied the cards, I found my
self leaning forward, wanting her to finish her thoughts. What the hell was so interesting about the pairing of my conscious and unconscious cards? I sat back and took a deep breath. So far, what she said could have applied to anybody.

  “So, what does this card supposedly mean?” I pointed to the upside-down guy.

  She pointed to it, “This is the Hanged Man—”

  “But he doesn’t look dead,” I interrupted. No death. That’s all I cared about in this whole reading.

  Tori lifted her head in a smile. “No, he’s not dead at all. He’s more of a sacrificial lamb. Have you sacrificed yourself lately? Do you? It’s not uncommon for mothers to do so.” She nodded at Laurel. “We all do it.”

  “No, not recently.” I laughed, despite my iron-clad resolve not to get sucked into this. Had I sacrificed myself? Uh, yeah. But not enough. And it hadn’t been recent. I’d noticed Bret’s increasing anxiety and despair, but he hadn’t wanted me to go to the doctor with him. I hadn’t pushed. When he told me, he thought he was losing his mind, my helpful suggestion was to go back to the doctor. I didn’t pay attention to the meds they put him on, or how those meds began a downward spiral from which he never recovered. After he died, I said no to every promotion to make sure I could focus on my children and their mental health. But I didn’t consider that a sacrifice, really. It was my choice and still, I believed, the right one. Now, his mother lived with us, so I supposed I sacrificed some space or privacy, but again, it was the right decision. But she moved in after he passed, and I adored my mother-in-law. None of it was in the recent past.

  “Well, it’s not really about time, like with a specific event. It’s more how you view life. Like you’re the one to sacrifice to make sure everyone else is okay. But see here?” She pointed to the card. “He’s got a halo, so it can also be about surrendering and accepting life as it is. And perhaps some indication of deepening spirituality. He’s a bit of a paradox.”