The Writer's Romance

by Elsa Kurt

  Janie mumbled something that sounded like an affirmation. They were drinking mimosas and relaxing in a hot tub. When Tori arrived at Katharine’s in the morning, she told her and Janie to pack an overnight bag. Not only had she secured a full day of pampering, but she’d also booked them a deluxe room at the Inn.

  “I take it you both enjoyed your massages?” Tori laughed. “And that’s only the beginning. Next up is facials, then lunch, followed by manicures and pedicures. Oh, and for something different—tarot card readings. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

  Katharine lifted her head from the edge of the hot tub and studied Tori from under her half-closed lids. Janie tilted her head and opened one eye. They were trying to decide if Tori was pulling their leg.

  “I’m serious, you two. We are getting our futures read.”

  “Ugh, I already know mine—twenty loads of laundry and a weeks-worth of chaos to clean up,” groaned Janie.

  “A week? We’re only going to be gone overnight,” said Katharine.

  “Says the woman with no kids. One day, one week—it’s all the same when you’re raising boys. Jim and my dad are great, but they’re still no better than the kids when it comes to cleaning. They’re probably eating pizza for breakfast, too. But you know what?”

  Katharine and Tori spoke together, “What?”

  “I. Don’t. Care. At least, not today I don’t.” She drained her champagne flute to prove her point.

  “Well,” said Tori as she refilled Janie’s glass, “make that tomorrow, too, if you can. We still need to go dress shopping for little miss Katharine over here.”

  Katharine lifted her head again and paid new attention to Tori. It struck her how exceptionally generous and outright coddling she’d been lately. Suspicion narrowed her gaze. “Hmm, an expensive spa getaway. Dress shopping. No muttering under your breath about what a pain I am. Something is up. Spill it, Tori.”

  “Oh, my Lord, girl. Look at you, all suspicious and what not. Why does anything have to be ‘up’? Can’t one friend do something nice for her other two friends without being treated like a—”

  “Okay, now I know something’s up. Let’s get it over with.”

  “Yes,” chimed in Janie, “tell her whatever it is so we can get back to indulging in the sound of silence.”

  Tori huffed and grabbed the champagne bottle. She filled Katharine’s glass to practically overflowing, then topped off her own drink. “I’m not supposed to tell you.”

  Katharine raised her eyebrows and stared hard at Tori until she caved.

  “Okay, fine. But you’re ruining a great surprise.” After a dramatic pause, Tori announced, “You’re getting an award for your advocacy for Down’s Syndrome.”

  “Oh. But—I—no, it should go to Nate! He’s done all the hard work, not me.”

  “Oh, Katharine, you really know how to ruin a good surprise. Nate is going to be there, too. And of course, they’re giving him an award. You’re presenting it to him, but don’t panic. I can write a speech for you. You happy now?”

  She was ecstatic for Nate. He, more than anyone she knew, deserved recognition for his accomplishments. Katharine couldn’t decide whether she was happy or mortified. It was certainly humbling. In all her imaginings about what it meant to be a successful writer, fame and accolades were never given consideration. All Katharine had ever really dreamed of, was to write books that made people feel good. All she’d hoped, was to make enough money to keep writing. Now, here she was, like a diva at a spa preparing for a gala event at which she’d be receiving an award. She had friends. Oh, and she was in a pseudo-romance with a cable network reality television star—with whom she had genuine feelings for.

  “Oh, that’s one thing I can do with ease. Thank you, though. Wow, I feel like I’m living in an alternate universe. This is the absolute antithesis of everything my life was a few months ago. It’s—”

  “Surreal. I know,” said Tori. “You gotta learn to kick back a little and let things go where they go. This is all very big for your career, Katharine. It’s opportunity knocking at your door. But if you don’t open it, the opportunity isn’t going to just stand there and wait for you to want it. There are thousands of struggling writers out there that would kill for what’s happening to you. So, don’t curl back up into your little cocoon, you hear? This is the chance of a lifetime.”

  “Yeah, what she said,” called Janie from the opposite side of the hot tub. Then she hiccupped.

  “Okay, I think it’s time to get ready for our next treatment. Come on, before party pants over there passes out.”

  Katharine laughed, and she and Tori helped Janie out of the steaming water. As they walked along the winding sidewalk, Katharine reached out and squeezed Tori’s arm. When Tori’s dark eyes met hers, she smiled and nodded. The pep talk had worked, Katharine as ready to embrace the next phase of her career and her life. Unbidden, the image of Mitch sprang to mind. There was no use denying it to herself, how she wished he would’ve been a part of it. But wishing wouldn’t make it so, unfortunately. Katharine shook her head quickly, trying to clear the melancholy mindset and stay focused on the fun day ahead. There would be none of those heavy ruminations in such a setting as the Norwich Inn and Spa, not if she could help it.

  It was as if an unspoken pact was made, and no one mentioned a word of anything Mitch Ford related. Janie regaled them with one hysterical—and terrifying—stories of marriage and motherhood. Tori spilled the enviable details of living in SoHo. When she went down the long list of celebrities she knew, Katharine and Janie practically fell out of their chairs. Tori’s life was full of excitement, beautiful peoples, and action, yet Katharine found herself envying Janie’s life more. A house that was a home, a husband and children… all things Katharine hadn’t even known she’d desired until Mitch Ford came along. She could virtually hear her biological clock saying—

  “Tick-tock, Katharine. What’s your preference?”

  “Hmm, I—oh, um… George Clooney.” Katharine had only half heard the debate over who was hotter, Clooney or Pitt.

  “Clooney, huh? I’m sticking with Pitt. He’s pretty,” Tori pronounced it ‘purty,’ and they all laughed.

  “Nah, I like em rough and rugged. You two can have both of those pretty boys. I’ll take a Harrison Ford or a Hugh Jackman any day over them,” declared Janie.

  “Met them both. Nice guys. Hugh is even hotter in person. Just sayin’.” Tori shrugged nonchalantly as Janie and Katharine gaped at her. “Life of a publicist, what can I say?”

  The day went on much like that—jokes and easy banter in between spa treatments and over lunch. In all, Katharine was having a perfect day. Of course, she couldn’t entirely shut her brain off from Mitch, but she was able to keep them tucked away. Her tarot card reading changed that, though.

  ‘I am Amara. Please sit,” said the dark-haired, older woman in a husky voice.

  “Hi, I’m Katharine. Nice to meet you. I’ve, uh, never had a tarot card reading before.” Katharine tucked her hair behind her ear and crossed her arms in front of her. “I’m actually a little nervous,” she said.

  “Yes, that is very common. There is nothing to be nervous about. Relax your body and your mind. Think of a question or a problem you would like to resolve.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, I’d like to know—”

  “No need to tell me,” Amara smiled, “the cards will know. First, choose one card from this deck. It is the Major Arcana, and it represents you. “

  Katharine did as she was told, and drew one of the ornately decorated cards, flipping it as she did. It showed a woman in elaborate garb, below it, in gold script it read ‘The High Priestess.’ For Katharine, the card was upside down, so she had to crane her neck to read it. Amara made no move to turn it.

  “Now. Take the cards and shuffle eight times. Please.”

  Once Katharine had shuffled them thoroughly, Amara separated the deck into three stacks. Her hand hovered over the first stack, and she asked Katharine, “
Focus now only on what you want the cards to tell you.”

  Katharine took a deep, slow breath and exhaled. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “This card represents the physical realm. It is your current circumstance.” Amara swept the card off the stack with a flourish and turned it over with an audible flick. They both leaned forward and studied the card. It was a figure holding two swords. “Mhmm,” nodded Amara.

  “What? Is that bad?”

  “This card,” Amara’s hand hovered over the middle stack, “represents your Mental Realm.”

  Like she’d done with the first, Amara flipped the card with a theatric flip. It showed the ‘Page of Cups.’ She nodded again and glanced up at Katharine with a small smile.

  “Is that good? What—”

  “The last card represents the Spiritual Realm.” One more dramatic turn of the card, one last reveal. It read, ‘Queen of Pentacles.’

  Katharine gripped the armrests of her chair and inched closer to the table, her eyes darting from the cards to Amara and back again. The tarot card reader studied each card, nodding here, shrugging there. At last, she spoke. “You’re not married, yes?”

  “Yes—well, I mean, no—I’m not married. How did you know? Did the cards tell you that?”

  Amara blinked at her for a moment then laughed gently. “This isn’t fortune telling, dear. Tarot cards, they…well, they tell a story. Your story. They are for clarity and direction. You decide your future, love. Oh, and,” Amara gave a pointed glance at Katharine’s left hand, “no ring.”

  “Oh,” said Katharine, her cheeks flushing pink. “So, I’m sorry, but how exactly does this work?”

  “I tell you what the cards symbolize, then we figure out what they mean all together for you. In tarot, two people can be shown the same cards, in the same order, yet they can mean very different things. But never mind all that. Let us focus on you, yes?”

  “Okay, I’m game.”

  Amara explained the meaning behind the first card she drew—the ‘High Priestess.’

  “The High Priestess represents your intuition, your inner voice, and your subconscious—”

  “That sounds good, right?”

  Amara raised her eyes from the cards and held up one finger. “The card is reversed. This changes the meaning somewhat. Perhaps you have lost your inner voice? Or maybe you are repressing feelings, hmm? This is maybe her way to get your attention again. Okay, yes? Does this sound right to you?”

  Grudgingly, Katharine nodded. Amara continued. “Now, here we have the II of Swords in the physical realm. You are…hmm. Yes, you are at a crossroads, I think? You are undecided about a significant decision. Maybe more than one, I don’t know.” She didn’t wait for a response from Katharine. “Here is the Page of Cups—your mental realm. The Page of Cups—when it is reversed, like this is—represents your inner child. It is all about feelings, emotions, and relationships.” Amara tsked, then said, “You are a ball of conflict, aren’t you? Don’t answer. Based on these cards, I would say you are having some relationship issues. Perhaps you have been a bit…temperamental? Impulsive? Stubborn, even?”

  “Well, I—not just me. Him, too.”

  “Mhmm. Moving on. This is the third and final card. The Queen of Pentacles. She is Earthly and represents the comforts of domesticity, family, and home. This, I think, is promising. The spirit realm sees what you long for, your heart’s desire. She is telling you, it is yours for the choosing, love.”

  Katharine’s eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. In embarrassment, she turned her head and tried to blink them away, but Amara reached over the table and grasped her wrist. “Don’t be embarrassed. Your tears are confirmation that the cards have both spoken to and for you. Like I said before, this is not fortune telling. You decide your future, my dear.”

  Katharine, her head still down, nodded. Amara waved a tissue under her nose, and she looked up. “Thank you, Amara. That was…incredible. I feel—I don’t know—lighter? I don’t know how to explain it, but—”

  “Good, I am glad. The tarot can be a great tool for enlightenment. Come back anytime. You may send in your friend on your way out, dear.”

  Katharine thanked her again and walked out onto the well-manicured grounds to find Tori and Janie lying on lounge chairs in the late day sun. As soon as she approached, Tori asked, “Well, how was it? Did she tell you that you have a tall, dark, handsome stranger in your future, or what?”

  “It doesn’t work like that, silly. But it was pretty amazing. Go on, you’ll see.”

  “Hurry up, added Janie, “I want to know my future, too!”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? No future telling.” Katharine laughed and shook her head.

  Janie shrugged, “Oh, well. I already know my future anyhow. A house full of dirty dishes, a mountain of laundry, and a bare refrigerator.”

  “You love it, though, don’t you?” Katharine asked softly.

  “Didn’t you hear me? Dirty dishes. Laundry. Bare fridge. Blech.”

  Katharine gave Janie’s knee a playful shove. “You know what I mean. Your life. You love it, right?”

  Janie lifted her head from the chair back and looked Katharine in the eye, smiling. “I wouldn’t trade it for all the money in the world. Not even for Harrison Ford. Well, maybe…kidding. Just kidding. I do love it, Katharine. Even when everything is insane, I love it. You know what else? I can picture you having that kind of life, too.” Then, with a wicked smirk, she added, “You know, now that you’re not all mean and crazy anymore.”

  “Janie!” They both laughed, and Katharine took Tori’s vacated chair with a contented sigh.

  After a short silence, Janie spoke again, the teasing gone. “You seem—I don’t know—lighter, or something. Good reading, I take it?”

  “Yeah, you know, it really was. Funny—that’s the same word I used to describe how I felt at the end. Lighter. I think I know what I want now. Or, I guess, more importantly, I’m not afraid of it anymore. I’m ready for what’s next, no matter what.”

  “Good for you, kid. Whatever happens, I’ve got your back.”

  “Thank you. I know you do. Now, before we get all mushy again, should we go inside and wait for Tori to come out from Madam Amara’s lair?”

  “Oh, my God, is she really called Madam Amara?”

  “Ha, no, I made that part up. It’s just Amara. You’ll love her.”

  They’d stepped back inside when Tori walked out of the reading room. “Huh. Maybe you got nothin’ but love for Madam Amara, but not me.”

  Tori crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. Janie and Katharine looked from her to each other. Katharine mouthed, “What do I do?”

  Janie shrugged, and said, “Okay, let’s—you hold that thought, Tori. Don’t say a word about it until I come back out. Katharine, get her over to the wine tasting thing. Remember, no discussing anything until I get back.” Janie burst through Amara’s door and called out, “Okay Madam Amara, let’s get this show on the road!”

  Despite her scowl, Tori chuckled. “That girl is crazy, but she’s right. I need a drink. Let’s go.”

  The pair managed to talk about nothing of relevance, determined to wait for Janie. Otherwise, Tori would have to repeat the whole thing all over again. Less than twenty minutes into the tasting, Janie quick-stepped into the long, narrow tasting room. As she passed the Sommelier, she grabbed the glass from her hand, loud whispered, “Thanks, hon,” and dropped into the chair across from them with a self-satisfied grin.

  “How did you get done so fast,” Katharine whispered.

  “Never mind me. What’s with the pout on this one?”

  “I am not pouting, thank you very much,” Tori replied, also whispering.

  “She’s right, Tor, you’re definitely pouting. What gives?”

  “Okay, fine. Can you believe that crazy woman said I have the hots for Justin? Justin? Uh-uh, no way.”

  Janie and Katharine widened their eyes and smirked.

  “Shut up. Bot
h of you.”

  “Wait,” said Katharine, “Amara said you have…the hots for Justin? Like, those were her exact words?”

  “Well, no. I mean, not exactly. But it was close enough.” Tori folded her arms in front of her again and cut her eyes away from her two incredulous friends.

  Janie took over the questioning. “Okay, honey. So, what exactly did she say?”

  Tori rolled her eyes and shook her head, then, in a most petulant tone said, “She said I have a…love interest, or whatever, and it’s in my workplace.”

  Katharine frowned and tilted her head. Janie put her hand to her mouth to hide her grin. After a moment, Katharine asked, “Okay, so…why—what makes you say it’s Justin? I mean you work with lots of people so…oh. Ohhh. I see.” Katharine began smiling, too.

  “No. No, you do not see anything. What? Why are you two smiling? It’s not funny. I don’t like him. Please. Do you know he called me ‘dudette’ the other day? What kind of grown man talks like that. Actin’ like we’re at the beach in SoCal, or whatever. Ridiculous.”

  By the end of her rant, she’d trailed off and was muttering under her breath and shaking her head. Janie leaned in close, and with a deadpan delivery said, “Oh, you got it bad.”

  A loud burst of laughter erupted from Katharine. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The Sommelier had finally had enough of them. “Excuse me, ladies? Perhaps you might enjoy the lounge area better?”

  “Are we getting kicked out of the tasting,” Janie loud whispered. Tori and Katharine nodded, and the three women slowly stood up and inched their way through the other women as they stared. Janie plucked a bottle from the table on the way out and shouted, “Run, girls!” So, they did.

  A few hours later, they lounged in their suite. They’d covered nearly every topic, including Katharine’s vast and deep feelings for Mitch, and Tori’s for Justin. Or rather, her horror at realizing she had feelings for Justin.

  “Hey, wait a minute. Janie, you never told us what Amara said to you. Spill it.”

  Janie picked at the hem of her thick terry robe and shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual. I’m a domestic Goddess and whatnot. Um, let’s see. Something about wanting another baby. Oh, and I have to resolve a conflict with my brother. It’s no big deal though— he owes me money from when he started up his stupid home micro-brewery thing. It was a flop, just like—”