27 #3
“And after?” Beverly asked. “What feeling lingers?”
“I’m confused, mostly,” she replied. “I want to feel more, but I don’t, which leaves me feeling guilty. I want to do right
by her. If she’s lost, I can’t—”
“Let’s pay attention to those cues,” Beverly said, interrupting her. “Guilt is useless. Chances are you would recognize your
mother, connect with her essence. If you didn’t, well, you didn’t.”
Yes, exactly that!
Didn’t Sebastien recognize his grandfather the day he died? He wasn’t spooked. He felt his grandfather’s love and good intentions. Sebastien understood, even at a young age, that he’d come to say goodbye. Meanwhile, after meeting her mother, Jules was left feeling scared and confused.
“Not all spirits are what they seem. Just because this apparition looks like your mother, doesn’t mean it is. Some spirits
are intelligent, manipulative little shits. They know what to do or say from the other side to get us to do their bidding.”
Jules was at the edge of her uncomfortable seat now, clutching the bottle of water so tightly, Beverly had to ease it from
her grip. God, she hoped Beverly was right. If not, she feared she may never leave Key West, knowing her mother was trapped
in that garden fighting to be free.
“You’ve been in contact with her twice. The only message coming through is fear and indifference. This from a woman who spent
her life nurturing you. Just because she died, doesn’t make her a stranger. Her love for you doesn’t go away. Even if it were
your mother, this is not the connection you need. If anything, it’ll distort your memories and kill your love for her, which
are all you have right now. She doesn’t have the right to come back and mess with your head like that.”
“She wouldn’t,” Jules said. “She was so protective of me, too protective. She wouldn’t do anything to upset me.”
“That’s your answer.”
Jules brought her hands to her chest. Her heart was a bruise, and she couldn’t help the tears from flowing. “It’s been a lot
to deal with.”
“I understand,” Beverly said. “You needed the release. Now let’s see what the cards say.” She picked up the deck and shuffled
again with precise flicks of the wrist. She picked five cards at random before looking up with sparkling eyes. “This is fantastic.”
Jules sniffled. “Do the cards say I’m going to win a Hugo Award? That would truly be fantastic.”
“I don’t know what that is.” Beverly selected one card and lifted it up to show her. It featured a portrait of the artist, her distinctive features highly accentuated, and a couple of chalices. “Two of Cups,” Beverly said.
Jules echoed her words. “I don’t know what that is.”
“It means an equal partnership or a connection with an individual based on mutual respect. You’ll find someone, not necessarily
a soulmate or a life partner. It also refers to family and friends.”
Probably Vicky, Jules thought. But their friendship was far from equal. She lied constantly to keep the peace, and Leo was
right to call her out on it. Like Jules’s mother, Vicky worried too much, and she was always finding ways to appease her.
That had to stop.
Beverly continued, “The cards are hinting at a true love connection, a soulmate.”
“Fuck no!”
Beverly tossed her head back and laughed. “Never got that reaction before.”
“Just don’t go there,” Jules pleaded. “I’m not interested in a soulmate.”
“I’m not going anywhere! These are your cards.”
Beverly held up a card featuring a painting Jules immediately recognized as Las Dos Fridas. One Frida dressed in white and the other in blue were seated side by side, hand in hand, their anatomical hearts exposed
and joined by a single artery. “The Lovers,” she said. “It doesn’t get more specific than that.”
The writing was on the wall—or the tarot card. Her cozy, codependent relationship with her best friend was ending. Vicky had
found Matty, and they’d immediately clicked. Soon she’d be straddled with a soulmate of her own. What had she done to deserve
this?
“All signs indicate that this will be an important connection.” Beverly held up a third card. “The Hierophant often symbolizes
spiritual guidance.”
“Wonderful.”
“It is wonderful. Why are you so down?”
“I don’t have the emotional bandwidth. That’s why.”
“You may when you free yourself.” Beverly presented a fourth card that featured another Kahlo motif, an adorable little monkey.
“The Fool.”
“I feel like one.”
“That’s okay. It means you’re starting a journey, feeling a little lost. You’re guided by faith and intuition. However, this
final card, The Star, symbolizes hope.”
She handed the card to Jules. It featured a lovely, star-shaped flower.
“Do you see how it all comes together?” Beverly asked. “You’re on a mission, but you’re not alone. At the end of this tough
time, there is light and hope. This is truly an amazing reading. How does this tie in with the spirit in the garden? Only
you can answer that. My guess is that it’s playing on your most precious memories, the ones stored deep in your heart. Does
that make sense? Or does it freak you out a little?”
“It freaks me out a lot,” Jules replied.
“The good news is you don’t have to play by their rules. You can pack up and leave tomorrow, forget this whole business. What
happens in Key West will likely stay in Key West, and that’s a good thing. But everything tells me you’re open for this. You’re
curious. You want answers. If you feel a tug, don’t ignore it. You’re being guided, that’s for sure. Life led you here for
a reason. Maybe you’ll learn something about yourself. And if you were feeling stuck, weighed down by grief, this path may
lead you to the light. Walk in faith.” She started collecting the cards. “That’s all I’ve got. Good luck, Jules.”
Jules was in a daze when she left the shop, carrying a new deck of cards in a plastic bag.
It was dark out, and the heavy salt air smelled of rain.
Despite this, she decided to walk to the inn, rather than order a ride or hail a pedicab.
Some exercise would clear her head and settle her nerves.
Who would’ve thought that the idea of an intelligent spirit manipulating her emotions, weaponizing her most precious memories, in pursuit of some nefarious goal, would be less upsetting than discovering that her soulmate was Leo James White?
She and Vicky had gone as far as they could go as a team. Jules had deliberately shielded her from her drama, not because
she wouldn’t understand. Of course she would. But she’d make the problem her own, become engrossed and try to find ways to
solve it, rather than focus on her own issues. This trip had been wonderful for Vicky. She met a new love, reconciled with
a friend, and confronted her grief over losing her grandmother. All of that would’ve gone to the wayside if Jules had burdened
her with stories of late-night apparitions in the garden. Vicky wasn’t the partner she needed for the journey. It was Leo,
no doubt about it. She’d long suspected they had a connection. Now it was all but confirmed—if she were to take the word of
a tarot card reader seriously, which she did.
Now what?
Jules would figure it out later. Menacing rain clouds chased her all the way to The Aurora. Woman walks home in the rain after devastating revelations. Such a cliché would never make the final cut of her novels. By the time she reached the inn, a flash of lightning announced
the downpour and she was soaked to the bone when she entered the lobby. The garden view from the parlor windows was obscured.
A total washout. She canceled the night’s vigil.
Jules waddled up to her room, a trail of droplets in her wake. As she peeled off her soaked through jeans, she made alternate
plans for the evening. She slipped on the robe Leo had procured her and left for his room.
No use postponing the inevitable.