Page 27 of Freak
“The middle card is theobstacle. Again, think of each card through the lens of your question.” She flipped it over—and couldn’t hold back a gasp, though she managed to make it little more than a quick breath. “The Hermit, upright. This suggests independence, self-reliance and introspection.”
A dry chuckle slipped from Mel’s lips, but he said nothing.
“The third and last card is youradvice.” She flipped it—and her heart did a little somersault. Working to keep her voice steady, she told him, “The Empress, upright. The Empress is femininity, beauty, nurturing, and bounty.”
He met her eyes again. “She’s you.”
Abigail felt her cheeks catch fire, but she only smiled. With those two words, he’d stolen all the rest of hers. Those two words weren’t merely lovely and sweet and romantic. They also strongly suggested that yes, he’d been thinking of her when he’d formed his question. The cards had told them both the same thing.
If, that is, he interpreted them as she had.
As if he’d heard her thought, Mel set his own thick, rough index finger on the first card. “This is the situation?” When she nodded, he continued, “Taking a risk. And this one”—he tapped the middle card—“is the obstacle, and my obstacle is independence?”
Though his voice had lifted at the end and made the statement a question, Abigail didn’t answer it. The cards’ answers should be left to the client. The dealer could engage in some Socratic questioning to guide clients along their own path, but should never tell them where to go.
When she only gazed back at him, he got the message and returned his attention to the third and final card. “The advice. The Empress. You.”
Suddenly he sat back and laced his fingers across his belly like a man who’d just finished a big, delicious meal. “Well, that settles it, then.”
“What do you mean?” Abigail asked, trying not to let her guesses run ahead of his truth.
“First off, I think I get it. The cards aren’t about you reading my mind, or some paper rectangles deciding what’s real. They’re about sorting out your own thoughts and figuring your own shit out. It’s like psychology—like therapy.”
“Well, there’s a lot of ways to read tarot, many different practices, but in the way I practice, that’s a good way of looking at it, yes.”
His grin spread across his full face. “You know what my question was?”
“That’s not my business. My business is to help you understand what the cards suggest, in general, so you can find the specific.”
“Is it against the rules for me to tell you my question?”
“Not at all.” And oh, how she wanted to know.
“My question was about us. So, what I’m thinking is the ‘situation’ is us worried about doing something risky, getting ... you know ... feelings involved—though I gotta be straight here, Abs, and say, far as I’m concerned, feelings are already involved.”
“Me too,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to the cards on the table.
He leaned in and hooked his hand over the back of her neck. Speaking barely above a whisper, he said, “That second card is the obstacle, right?”
She nodded, and her eyes rolled up under fluttering lids as her movement against his hand became a caress.
“And the Hermit means independence” After she nodded again, he went on, “Both of us settled in lives on our own. And the advice is the Empress—beautiful feminine bounty. You. You know what I think? I think these cards are telling me to stop worrying about what might happen, stop thinking life all alone is the best way to live, and see how much better it might be with this gorgeous, amazing woman right here in front of me.”
Thinking she might truly faint if this emotional intensity continued much longer, Abigail turned her head in Mel’s hold and found his eyes with her own.
His smile was warm and sweet and familiar—yet also somehow different. There seemed to be a claiming in it. “You’re even more amazing than I thought—and I already thought you were just about the best person I’ve ever known.”
“You want to be with me?”
“Yeah, Abs. I been thinking about you like that for a while, but I didn’t think you felt the same. Guess I was wrong about that?”
Abigail’s heart twirled and leapt in her chest. Parts of her body that had gone quiet ages ago stretched and yawned, waking from their long slumber. She forced herself to keep her head in charge, though her heart was grabbing at the wheel.
“You were wrong. But, even after these cards, I wonder if we’re too old to throw ourselves at each other and see what happens next.”
He grinned. “I don’t know, I’m a fan of throwing ourselves at each other.” To demonstrate, he leaned in and put his lips to her cheek. “I think about you a lot,” he murmured at her ear.
Ignoring the way her heart wanted to drag her toward him, she leaned back and smiled into his eyes. “That’s lovely to know. But, hon, what’s it look like? I ... it’s been a long time for me, and I’m ... I don’t want anything but what’s real and true and lasting. I never had any days of being ... carefree about these things, but if I ever did, they’d be well behind me.”
