I thought I had good reasons for ending things, but the way I did it was clumsy and hurtful.
I don’t know that I deserve a third chance, or how I would handle the long-distance hurdle if she gave me one. I don’t want to keep causing her pain.
My sisters come to visit the first week of April. I take them to a quaint town a few villages away to shop for books and games for the library at the inn. While they’re poring over the self-help offerings in a bookstore, I wander intothe esoteric section, looking for a Ouija board. Might be a nice touch in case guests want to fancy the big old house haunted.
I come upon a deck of vintage tarot cards. The same kind of deck Madame Olenska had on the cruise ship. Impulsively, while my sisters are distracted, I buy it.
I make the mistake of leaving it in a shopping bag among our other purchases on the dining table when we get home. Pear finds it immediately.
“Ha! What’s this?” she asks, brandishing the deck the same way she did when we were kids and she found my box of secret treasures. “Felix, have you gone woo-woo on us?”
“Just a little fun for the library,” I lie.
“You sneaky boy,” Prue says. “You never told us you’re awitch.”
“Come off it,” I say.
“This reveals untold depths,” Pear says to Prue. “Do you think he’s more of a Wiccan or an Aleister Crowley type?”
I snatch the deck out of her hands. “Calm down,” I say. “Or I’ll summon demons to silence you.”
“Let’s all draw cards,” Pear says. “I want to know my fortune.”
“Oh, yes, let’s,” Prue says. “Shuffle the cards, Felix.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, handing her the deck.
I start to walk away but she grabs me by the arm. “No, sir. Your cards, your shuffle. Otherwise I’ll be cursed.”
I know they’re going to whinge and harass me unless I humor them, so I take the cards, shuffle them, and lay them out face down on the table, the way I saw Madame Olenska do.
“Take your pick,” I tell them.
“Wait,” Prue says. “We have to ask a question first, don’t we?”
“Make it tell me my future, Felix,” Pear says. She pulls out a card and holds it up. “King of Pentacles. What does it mean?”
“I have no idea, obviously,” I say.
“Let’s google it,” Prue says. She grabs her phone and looks up the card.
“You’re destined for material wealth, leadership, and ambition leading to long-term success,” she reports to Pear.
Pear smiles smugly. “I knew I was on to something with the Maquille acquisition. Now you do one.”
“I want to know the nature of my deepest soul,” Prue says, waving her hand over the deck. She selects the Knight of Cups.
“It says here,” Pear reads off her phone, “that the card signifies creativity, romance, charm, imagination, and beauty!”
“Eerie, how accurate it is,” Prue says. “These cards really are magical. Your turn, dear brother.”
“I’m good.”
“Nice try. You’re doing it. Ask a question.”
“Fine,” I grumble. “Tarot, please show me what is going to happen when my sisters finally leave me in peace on Monday.”
“Lame,” Pear says. “Tarot, please tell him his heart’s deepest desire.”
