Page 34 of A Fool's Game

“Sure, yeah. A deck. And an instruction book, probably.”

“Right this way.”

She leads me to the back of the shop, to an overfull bookshelf draped with tiny, twinkling lights. “I do readings, as well. If you have a burning question you want answers for.”

She says it like she knows something about me, and I tense even though it’s probably just a sales pitch.But she might be able to shine some light on the mysteries I've been so far unable to unravel on my own.

“Do I get to choose the cards for the reading?”

Her eyes narrow, but not in a suspicious way. She’s starting to consider me like I’m the most interesting thing that’s ever stumbled into her shop. “Absolutely.”

“Great. Let’s do it.”

She motions to a low, purple velvet chair on one side of a small round table draped with a paisley scarf. I settle in, and she sits across from me. We both watch as Doc performs his laying down ritual, complete with sniffing the entire area and spinning at least ten times.

When he huffs and rests his head down on crossed paws, I turn my attention to the table.

“I’m Marisol.” The woman offers her name but not her hand.

I nod. “Ainsley. Nice to meet you.”

She produces a worn looking tarot deck from somewhere in the folds of her intricate dress and places it on the table between us.

“Oh, great,” I say, reaching for the deck.

I’ve been dying to get my hands on one after my power homework session yesterday. I flip the deck over and spread the cards out on the table.

I find The Fool easily. It nearly jumps out of the pile at me. I’m still searching for The Magician when Marisol starts to laugh.

“What are you doing?” Her tone is not unkind, but she’s clearly surprised.

“I’m choosing my cards.” All signs point to the fact that I’m doing something wrong here, but I don’t care. I want to see the cards, and I’m too close now to give into propriety.

“I see that.” She sits back in her own velvet chair and waits.

I finally find the card I want and scoop the rest into a neat pile that I push back to her side of the table. I then lay The Fool and The Magician side-by-side on the cloth covered table and wait for them to reveal their secrets.

They don’t.

My frustration must start to show because Marisol leans forward and rests her chin in both hands. “Do you have a question?”

“Yeah,” I reply, remembering why I came here. This woman probably has the answers I need. “Can you tell me what these cards mean and what it means for them to be together?”

The silence that follows stretches long enough that I look up from the cards and find her watching me.My gaze must shake her out of whatever trance she’s in because she blinks and nods. “Maybe.”

I push the cards toward her, just in case she needs them to get on with it.

But she just watches me. “The way a reading generally works is that the customer has a question or a quandary that they need guidance for. They choose the cards, and we talk about what those particular cards could signal for their situation.”

I nod. “I need to ask a question, then? Okay.” I pause and consider. “I want to know how to proceed in a confusing and complicated romantic situation I find myself in.”

“Matters of the heart,” she replies.

I nod again, starting to get impatient.

“Usually you would choose cards from the deck?—”

I interrupt her by tapping on the cards I chose, which are on the table between us. “I choose these.”

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