I kept silent. I didn’t want to tell her that I didn’t see it the way she did. I wanted control, but not as an investment in becoming a better fortune-teller.
“If only you saw something. It would mean we’re on the right path in your education.”
I made the decision then. I wanted to ease her fears and to show that there was still hope.
“I mean, I might have seen something,” I lied.
A hanging light fixture fell from overhead, striking my shoulder before shattering on the floor. It happened so fast that I almost didn’t feel it. I stared at the spot where the glass fell, unsure of what had happened, when my brain registered the pain. My hand pressed against the growing soreness. The sound of a crash echoed in my ears alongside the phantom noise of squealing tires.
“Vanessa!” My aunt rushed to my side and checked my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Bits of glass and fragments glittered in the sunlight streaming through the shop windows. The pattern of particles traced out skid marks from tire treads, down to the grooves and ruts running in parallel.
She finished her examination. “Nothing’s broken. You will get a bruise later though. You’re lucky it missed your head. If you had been standing an inch in the wrong direction, it could have been catastrophic.”
“Auntie, I’m sorry. I lied.”
I had broken one of the cardinal rules of fortune-telling. My shoulder throbbed.
Twenty-Seven
Aunt Evelyn kept the shop closed. I asked her to reopen, but she refused.
“Family above all else,” she said.
As we cleaned up the mess, I justified why I had lied. Aunt Evelyn poured the shattered glass pieces into the trash.
“This is serious,” she explained. “As much as I appreciate you wanting to make me feel better, this wasn’t a good choice.”
My cheeks reddened.
She frowned. “I don’t want you to be injured or, worse, in some freak accident. It’s clear this was a side effect. I want you to promise me that you won’t do it again.”
“I promise.” I consoled myself by stealing three madeleines and nervously nibbling on them.
“You had a setback today.” She massaged her left temple in a slow circle. “Aunt Charlotte was strict, but she got results. I felt her methods wouldn’t work with you, so I’ve been trying a different approach.”
“You think you’ve been too easy on me?” I retorted.
“Yes, I believe I have been.”
I was incredulous. I had done everything she asked, trying my best. To imply she’d been too lenient wasn’t fair. I pursed my lips. “You’re asking me to do something I’ve never done before. You expected results as if I’m a savant, but I’m far from it.”
She began pacing. With how hard her feet struck the floor, I was certain she’d break the heels of her shoes.
“If your motivations are clear, then you should be progressing. Aunt Charlotte taught that appreciation for what we do and what we provide for others is important. Tell me again why you want to learn now.”
“I’ve told you already.” The thread of exasperation wound itself around my voice. “I need to control this. I’m tired of hurting people.”
“You don’t appreciate your gift. For you, it’s a curse. Without appreciation, you’re blocked from receiving a vision without a crutch.” She paused in her pacing as her eyes focused on me. “It’s important to value your ability, Vanessa.”
“Have you thought that maybe all these rules aren’t as infallible as you think?” I asked.
“They are there for a reason. You’re in no position to question them.”
Marc had come back. That proved there was room for doubt, at least for me. “One of your rules is that we have no red thread, yet Marc came back to me.”
“We have no red thread. What you have with him will not last.” Aunt Evelyn resumed her pacing. “The sooner you understand, the better.”
“How can you be so sure it won’t work out after I leave the city?”
“Because whatever spell this city holds, it dissipates over the ocean. It’s better to resign yourself to accepting heartbreak if you think you can change that.” Her hands balled into fists. “I tried once. It’s not meant to be.”
I lost my temper.
“You’re talking about the guy at the restaurant. Why is it so hard to say who he is?”
Aunt Evelyn stopped midstep and turned. “What happened between me and him is none of your business.” Her voice was crisp. Each word warned against further discussion.
“Why not? It’s not terrible to want love, Auntie. We all deserve to be loved.”
“You speak of these things as if you know more than I do. I’ve been living with this burden all my life. You had the luxury of ignoring it until it became too uncomfortable.” She crossed her arms. “You don’t know what losses I suffered. What I had to give up to live with this gift.”
“Of course I don’t know. You won’t tell me!” My inner six-year-old emerged in all its rebellious fury.
She sighed as though I were a misbehaving puppy who had chewed a pillow. “I know you’re angry. I’m frustrated too. But as I said, family means everything.”
“You chose family over him, didn’t you?” I demanded.
“Yes, I did.”
With that rare admission, the anger I’d been holding on to evaporated. It explained everything. Her dark eyes met mine: they mirrored my regrets. The pain behind them was as palpable as my own.
I realized the truth.
Her silence was born from anguish. Her need for intense privacy was a shield from the people she chose over him. She had given enough to the family and had moved here for herself. After decades apart, my beautiful, brave aunt showed up for a reunion with Girard, dressed in her emotions and intentions. He didn’t want anything to do with her. The missing red thread poured lemon juice into a wound that had never healed.
My aunt moved behind the counter and poured glasses of cold-pressed strawberry juice from a small fridge for us. We both took long drinks. The cool liquid doused the flames of our argument.
Leaning against the cold quartz, I said in a soft voice, “Have you ever seen anyone exhibit the same peculiarities as me?”
She took a deep breath. The pain and vulnerability I’d witnessed vanished beneath her usual calm exterior. “No. You are an oddity. The gift has presented itself in the same way for over a thousand years. The classic signs are so remarkable: it is easy to identify a child with the talent. You presented the right way. It’s how we knew. Everything afterward was unusual.”