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I placed the cards in front of me on the coffee table and knocked twice, closing my eyes and asking my ancestors to guide my intuition. Calm washed over me when I picked up the cards again,riffling them first, three times, then altering my shuffle for something less invasive to their aura.
Sofia looked on from across the table, solemn and intent. Silently, I asked the cards about my next steps in life. The changes coming up that I should be aware of, and how to navigate them.
What I should do about Gus.
Pain had radiated off him like a fever the other night.
I had longed to reach for him, tuck myself in his arms and give him something to hold on to, give him the softness he’d been denying himself for too long.
I could do this for him. I could heal him. I’d told him I would lay down my life for my friends. I’d helped raise this bright and brilliant young woman sitting across from me here, just because she needed more people in her life to love her. I’d gone to classes and gotten certified in various birthing techniques when Soula announced her pregnancy, so she’d have someone familiar to doula her birth.
I loved my friends hard. And when I loved someone, I’d do pretty much anything for them.
Lay down my life?Why not?
Marry them?That, too. Maybe one day, I could even convince him to stop dismally resigning himself to celibacy and relegating me to just the friend zone.
I giggled. I couldn’t stop. I was so giddy, so sure that a marriage with Gus could actually work.
I’d never particularly cared one way or another about marriage. I could internalize every voice in the marriage/anti-marriage arguments without drawing solid conclusions for myself. I was open to all possibilities. I always assumed that if I was with someone and we both felt the urge to bond ourselves together in ceremonyor legal proceeding, I’d be game. If that time never came, I’d be equally okay. The point was, one way or another, I’d know.
I’d know.
I asked the cards anyway.
I pulled the Wheel of Fortune. Okay, perfect. Granny had my back. No matter what happened, that wheel—the circle of life—kept turning. Just like the Journey song.
The Hierophant. Of course. The religious figure had been my significator for Gus for the better part of a year. I’m on the right track now. Spirit is here. Leading me somewhere.
Breathe, Decca. Breathe.
The Page of Pentacles. My significator for me.
What do you have to show me about Gus and me, Spirit?
I shuffled the cards until they flew out at me with an undeniable attention grab. Look at me! they called.
The Knight of Swords. Plunging headfirst into action.
The Two of Cups. Commitment. Soulmates.
The Lovers. True partnership in harmony.
The Page of Cups. Trusting in my intuition, even in the face of unique circumstances.
Holy shit, I knew.
I knew.
By the time Bethany and George had gotten home from their monthly date night, I was ready to bolt out the door.
Only I’d forgotten about the rain.
The wooden steps leading down from the apartment were slick with age and mildew, and in my haste, and alcohol-induced clumsiness, my heel slipped off one of the steps halfway down. I skidded the rest of the way on my ass, landing in a puddle on the cracked concrete, inches deep. My entire backside was instantly soaked through.
My breath left my body in a rush. When I remembered I could breathe again, I wiggled my ankles. I hadn’t rolled them. That was good. Arms? A bit sore on my right elbow where it knocked into the step on my initial descent. The rest of me was equally unscathed.
Just wet. Very, very wet.
