Mick and I exchange a look. He looks amused, but wary, too.
We were just talking about secrets, and there’s no way the fortuneteller could have overheard us clear on the other side of the square.
He grabs my hand again, holding tight as the woman turns over a second card.
She leans in, her brows drawing together as she glances at the card and then up to us, her eyes shifting back and forth until she finally says, “The Nine of Swords. Huh. This one… It can mean many things, but in a relationship reading this card often represents steadiness in the face of adversity. One of you may experience hardship in the near future. During this struggle, the other partner will be the Nine of Swords, the person who empathizes, but doesn’t get sucked under in the flood. Who stands strong in the time of trial.”
I let out a breathy laugh. “Well, that sounds like fun.”
The fortuneteller smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Life and love are not always fun, are they, cher? But that’s why we have card number three, the card that gives hope for the future.” She glances back down, turning over the last card with a satisfied sigh. “Ah, the Seven of Swords. The knight in shining armor.”
She looks up again, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I don’t want to be rude, but this lady has me pegged all wrong if she thinks that’s what I’m looking for. I know better than to think a man is going to sweep in and solve my problems. Much better.
“One of you has a sleeping hero inside of them,” she continues, earning my respect for introducing the possibility that I might be the knight. “The emergence of this hero could be related to the adversity hinted at by the Nine of Swords. This may be the catalyst that spurs the inner hero to turn obstacles into cornerstones for the future.”
Mick nods, but his brow remains wrinkled. “What’s the verdict? Will we last the year?”
She holds up her hands, fingers splayed wide. “Ah. This is the question, no? The cards give direction, but the decision is yours.” She leans forward, gathering the cards into a stack before pulling a scrap of purple velvet from her pocket and beginning to wrap the cards inside it.
“Fate is not as cruel a mistress as some of these charlatans would have you believe,” she continues, motioning around the square. “Free will plays a part in your destiny. A big part. Don’t forget that. Fate deals the hand, but you decide whether to stay or fold.” She grins. “Or make a house of cards.”
I frown, kind of wishing we hadn’t done this.
The reading feels so…real, and not nearly as lighthearted as I expected.
“Well, thank you.” Mick says, squeezing my hand before reaching into his wallet and placing another five on top of the trunk. “Do you need help carrying this to your car? It looks heavy.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” I grin up at him before turning back to the woman who’s now opening the trunk and tucking her cards inside.
“What sweet bebs,” she says with a husky laugh. “But no, my husband is coming soon. He’s as big as this boy.” She motions to Mick. “And still as strong as the day I married him thirty years ago.” She winks at me. “Don’t let this one slip away, cher. He’s a good one, I can tell. I have a knack for it.”
I return her smile. “Thanks. Maybe I won’t.”
Mick lifts a hand to her and says, “thanks again,” and we drift away. He waits until we’re a good distance across the paving stones before he nudges my shoulder with his. “Maybe? What’s with this maybe stuff?”
I shrug, fighting a grin. “Don’t want you to get too confident. And it’s early days, Whitehouse.”
“True, and with all the talk about times of trial…” He sighs as he tilts his head back, peering up at the cathedral. “To tell you the absolute truth, I’m tired of the knight in shining armor gig. My ex needed enough saving for twenty damsels in distress.”
“Well, I’m not the type who needs saving,” I assure him. “Don’t start polishing your armor on my account. Besides, she said the knight in shining armor could be either one of us, so…”
“But haven’t you had enough of it, too?” he asks, still serious. “Seems like you spend more than your fair share of time bailing your mom out of trouble.”
“Of her own making,” I agree, then shake my head. “But no, I still like to help people. Love it, really. It’s part of why I enjoy my job so much.”
“But helping people out of burning buildings is a lot different than doing more than your fair share in a personal relationship. One is hero work, for sure. The other…” He sighs again. “I don’t know. When you love someone, it can be hard to draw the line between enough and too much. And by the time you realize it’s too much, it’s become the default. It’s just…the way things are done and it’s hard to go back.”
I consider that for a moment. “Well, first up, I’m low maintenance and can absolutely take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about that. And like I said before, I would have been fine to make this trip to get my mom alone. You didn’t have to come with me.”
He stops and turns to me. “That’s not what I meant, Faith. I’ve had a great time on this trip. I wouldn’t have offered if—”
“I know,” I say, cutting him off with a smile. “I just wanted to underline that in case you didn’t get it the first time. I’m glad you’re here, too, and you made this so much easier. And more fun. But I could have done it alone.” I pull in a breath. “And I guess that’s how I think a good relationship should be. Both people can do things on their own. They’re fully capable. But it’s easier together, instead of harder. Sweeter instead of more stressful.”
He nods thoughtfully. “No one’s a hero or a victim, you’re just partners.”
“Yeah. And friends.” I glance to the left as I add beneath my breath, “Who like to kiss.”
“A lot,” he adds, wrapping his arms around me. “Glad we figured that out now before the trials and tribulations start.”
“But it was just pretend, right? Or…something like that?”
“Something like that,” he agrees. “I think it was just good advice. You don’t have to be able to see the future to know that life is hard sometimes. And that when it is, it’s nice to have someone strong and solid who cares about you sleeping next to you.”
“Yeah. That does sound nice. I wouldn’t know from personal experience, but…”
“Me, either. But maybe we will. Soon.” He holds my gaze in a way that makes me feel a little shy. A little uncertain.
And hopeful in a way I’ve never been before.
And then he kisses me, and the shyness vanishes in a wave of heat and longing. His lips tell me more secrets—confessing he’s hopeful, too, and that he finds me every bit as irresistible as I find him—and for the first time I don’t think about pulling away or slowing down. I’m tired of fear calling the shots. Especially fear that isn’t even mine.
Yes, my mother’s relationships with men were and continue to be awful, but mine haven’t been. I managed just fine with Eli. And didn’t I always tell myself I was alone because I was holding out for the right guy?