Chapter 37 #2
“We brought dessert,” Adam says proudly as dinner is winding down.
“Yes, Adam’s job was to buy the ice cream,” Sarah says.
I laugh. “Then you know about his baking addiction and haven’t been scared away?”
“I think it’s cute.” She places her hand on Adam’s chest, and he puts his arm around her.
“Braver woman than me,” Mom says before taking a sip of her wine. She’s trying hard not to smile like a Cheshire cat, but I know.
Dad does too. He squeezes Mom’s hand. “Adam’s not even allowed to make toast in our kitchen.”
Adam groans. “Just because I started a fire that one time.”
I laugh as I excuse myself to find Mom’s tarot cards. The cookie jar is empty, but I locate a pack wedged between her cookbooks. “I hope Adam has told you about our mom’s talent for tarot,” I say, returning to the table.
Adam turns pink and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Sarah laughs, but I see how she places a reassuring hand on Adam’s knee. “Only after I found a deck in his escape room.”
We all turn to look at Mom.
“Oh, stop,” she says. “Can I help it if the universe has a sense of humor?”
“Yes,” Adam says emphatically.
“Ryan, you’re the criminal justice lawyer. What’s that phrase you’re always tossing around?” Mom taps a finger to her cheek. “Innocent until proven guilty?”
Before Ryan has a chance to recuse himself, I clear my throat. “What y’all don’t know is that I’ve taken up the family tradition. Come on, Mom. Let’s go read your fortune.”
“Oh, I’m coming.” Portia grabs Mom’s hand and nearly drags her to her feet.
“Me too!” Julie says.
“We’ll get dessert ready.” Adam pulls Sarah toward the safety of the kitchen.
Smart man.
“Have a seat, Mom.” On the patio, I gesture to the chair opposite the rattan peacock throne that I’ve assumed. Oh gosh, I hope this works. Because if it doesn’t, I’ll be opening the tarot floodgates and dooming all of us to a very long night.
“I think I’m good,” Mom says skeptically.
“Oh, come on.” Julie winks at me. “You’ve got to support Bea’s project. She’s finding herself.”
“Yes!” Portia says, a little too enthusiastically. “She’s carrying on the family legacy.” She takes Mom by the shoulders and steers her into the chair opposite me.
Mom looks as squirmy as I always feel when she insists on bringing out her cards.
“Open your mind,” I tell her as I spread the cards on the table. I try to take my mom’s hands and put them on the cards to shuffle them. It’s a move she’s done countless times to me, but she pulls away.
“I don’t think I want to,” Mom says.
Portia and Julie grab each other by the shoulders and look like they might explode with suppressed giggles. I have to admit it is entertaining to see Mom in the hot seat.
“Ask a question in your mind’s eye.”
“Is it time for dessert?” Mom says.
“Molly,” Portia chides. “This won’t work with that attitude.”
“Oh, I know how this works.” Mom’s hand grazes the cards, pausing over one that I dog-eared earlier in the kitchen. “What did you do to my cards?”
I mean, how else was I going to find it? “Your significator.” I place the Empress on the table. “Matriarch. Mother goddess. Powerful earth energy.”
I shuffle the remaining cards into a neat stack. Mom cuts them once, and then I deal four cards and form a cross around the Empress on the table.
“The Four of Wands.” I point to the top card.
“That’s the Four of Cups,” Julie whispers.
“Right, the Four of Cups means that you have unfinished business in your past.” I pause for dramatic effect.
“Very interesting,” Portia says.
“Oh.” I cock my head. “Look at that. It’s upside down.”
“No, it’s not,” Mom says.
Julie rotates the card. “Now it is.”
“The reverse Four of Cups means that this unfinished business is a quest of some sort.” I slowly drum my fingers on the table.
“The Page of Swords below the significator means that you have supported for years people you love and that now it is their turn to support you in the completion of this quest.”
I point to the other cards on the table. “The King of Wands is determined to see you victorious in this new effort.”
“That’s the Page of Wands,” Mom says.
“Exactly. The Four of Pentacles—”
“Six of Pentacles,” Portia corrects.
“Six of Pentacles means that hard work lies ahead, but if we look here.” I tap the deck and flip over an additional card and add it to the base of the cross. “We also see that in the past you’ve laid a foundation of determination and ability.” I lean back thoughtfully.
“What can it mean?” Portia says in a misty voice.
“Yes, Bea. Tell us what it means,” Julie says, except her voice sounds comically, farcically spooky.
Mom scoffs. “It means nothing. She misidentified more than half the cards.”
“Molly, be supportive,” Portia snaps.
Mom sighs. “Fine.”
I flip over three more cards, and shoot, if I know what any of them mean, but it doesn’t matter. I know what I’m going to say. My gaze snaps up to Mom’s. “You should go to law school.”
Julie gasps, but my gaze doesn’t leave Mom. “You may be scared. But we support you. We believe in you.”
“I should go to law school.” Mom folds her arms and leans back. She sniffs, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s an effort to repress a chuckle.
I didn’t know how this was going to go over. I knew the possibility of hurt and overwhelm existed—they’re definitely things I’ve felt after being on the receiving end of one of my mom’s tarot readings. But Mom looks…amused. “Is this what it feels like when I read your fortune?”
“Pretty much,” I mutter.
“Worse, I think,” Julie chimes in. “At least Bea’s reading was direct.”
“Short and sweet,” Portia says.
“Just like her.” Mom gives my hand a squeeze. “George,” she calls. “Beatrice says the cards are telling me to go to law school.”
“And you should,” Julie says.
“You absolutely should,” Portia agrees.
Dad walks out onto the patio, holding Eaton in one arm and a slice of pie with his free hand. “Have the cards told you where to apply? Because with your LSAT scores, you could go anywhere.” He sets the pie in front of Mom.
Wait…
Drew and Ryan join us with plates of pie and ice cream in hand.
“You took the LSAT recently? When?” I ask.
“The week after we went to the play.” Mom takes Eaton from Dad and bounces him on her knee. The little guy giggles. “You remember the day I had to cancel our lunch date?”
I thought she sounded more frazzled than usual on the phone that day. “How? You have to register weeks in advance.”
“Let me guess,” Portia says. “You asked nicely.”
“Old family friend?” Julie hazards.
Mom turns to Dad, and she may as well be a heart-eye emoji. “I know a guy. He pulled some strings.”
My parents are meddling, opinionated, at times overbearing, but also so darn lovable.
“So where are you applying?” I ask.
“Not sure.” Mom takes a bite of pumpkin pie. “All I know is I want to be within driving distance of my grandkids.”
“Then you should look into schools close to Boston,” Portia says, squeezing Drew’s hand.
Julie’s fork clatters to the ground. “For reals?”
“We’re due this summer,” Drew says proudly.
There’s a lot of excited mother-daughter-sister-father screaming after that.
Adam and Sarah join us on the patio with more plates of pie and ice cream. “What just happened?” Adam asks.
I vacate the peacock chair and claim one of the dessert plates Sarah is holding. “Portia is having a baby. Mom took the LSATs on the sly—”
“And Auntie Bea is the new tarot reader in the family,” Julie says, tickling Eaton’s tummy.
“Oh no way.” Adam glances over at Sarah and sets down his dessert plates. “Um, did you want to go see the beach? Head out for a run?” he says quietly. “We can do dessert anytime.”
Sarah rests her head against Adam’s chest. “Maybe later. Let’s stay and celebrate.
Get the details.” She winks at my brother before taking a deep breath.
“Congratulations, Portia!” She threads her way through everyone to give my sister a hug.
“And Molly! I want to hear everything. Who was in on the surprise?”
Adam is looking at Sarah like she’s the sun over the Pacific Ocean.
“Bro?” I slide him a piece of pie. “Everything okay?”
“I’m going to marry her. Just as soon as she’ll let me. That’s all.”
“Well, now.” I pat Adam on the shoulder. “I’d say that sounds more than okay.”
The rest of the evening passes in a happy blur of laughter and sugar and stories. Long after the air turns chilly and Adam and Sarah have headed back to Pacific Beach, Dad and Mom find me.
“Your mom would never have done it if you hadn’t pushed her. I’ve been floating the idea for years, but she would never give it any thought.”
“It’s different coming from your offspring.” Mom hands me a tote of leftovers. “Eat them before they grow gray and fuzzy.”
“Mom,” I say, fishing a pack of tarot cards out of the tote. “What are these doing in here?”
“I’ve decided to retire. Besides, I won’t have time once classes start. You should do a reading when you get home. Maybe the cards will be as helpful for you as they were for me.” She gives me a hug. “Family legacies aren’t such a bad thing. Whether they’re tarot cards, law degrees…”
“Or an extensive collection of literature.” Dad tugs my ponytail.