Page 11 of A Fool's Game

Or Christmas night to be more accurate.

But he’s nowhere in sight. I allow myself a full-on shriek of happiness and a silly dance down the hallway and up the stairs to my room.

The house is empty for once, so I won’t have to explain my giddy state to anyone. What would I even tell them?

That The Fool showed up just as my own card work was predicting a fork in the road and a collaborative new chapter in my life?

That a handsome blast from my past appeared out ofnowhere, igniting a decade old flame I thought was long forgotten?

Or maybe…maybe that I have a little crush.

And a raging inferno between my legs.

My phone buzzes in my pocket just as I close the door to my room.

The Magician : My mom says hi

I grin at the characteristically short text that somehow still conveys all the things I know he wants to say to me.

You told her I was sorry I couldn’t make it and gave her my gift, right?

The Magician : We have plans with the whole family on New Year’s day. It’s going to be Christmas 2.0

I probably should have gone to Christmas dinner, but I just couldn’t ignore the call from my intuition to stay home. To go out for fish and chips by myself instead of cozying up on Bainbridge Island with a home cooked meal and cheesy holiday movies.

When are you coming home?

The Magician : I’d be dead meat if I tried to sneak out before morning. Catching the first ferry straight to work. Call me when you get up.

I smile and toss my phone aside, needing to get my hands on the cards and find out what they have to say about this new development.

Pulling back the curtains, I find that the snow clouds moved on, leaving the sky clear and bright. The big full moon shines down on me as I collect my onyx saging bowl and cards and settle onto the rug in the moonlight.

Breaking a small leaf from the tightly wrapped bundle, I light the end and wait for the flame to flash out, leaving an ember and trail of smoke. I bring the cleansing smoke down around my body, taking care to do my hands and feet, and then over and around the cards as I hold the deck in my other hand.

Satisfied with the small cloud of smoke around me, I set the leaf back with the others in the bowl and allow it to keep trailing smoke as I pick up the deck.

The cards are slippery and crisp between my fingers, and I settle into the feel of them as I shuffle. It’s familiar and grounding, and I’m already calmer. I’m ready to ask my questions and accept the lessons they have to offer.

As I pass the cards up and over each, splitting and rejoining the deck over and over, I decide on a simple three card spread.

First card: My current situation.

Second card: My deepest desires.

Third card: Where I can look for support.

Spreading the deck out on the rug in front of me, I wave my hand slowly down the length of them, feeling for any heat or energy from a particular card. One toward the far end pricks my senses. I slide it out and place it face down in the position of card number one.

I trace my hand back over the splayed cards, this time allowing my fingernail to graze along the center of the cards, bump, bump, bumping over the edge of one card and sliding smoothly over the next. At the center of the line, one of the cards jumps a bit, dislodging itself from the others.

With a smile, I slide that card out and place it in position number two.

Taking my still smoldering sage back out of the bowl, I drape the smoke around me once more and then trace it slowly down the line of cards. It’s not long before the gathering ash gives way and lands right on the back of one of the cards.

I say a quickthank youbefore settling the sage back in its bowl and pulling the ashy card out for position three.

The moment before I flip over the cards feels heavier than usual, and I pause with my hand hovering for a long breath before quickly flipping over the first card.

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