Page 127 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“I think it’s cute.” She places her hand on Adam’s chest, and he puts his arm around her.
“Braver woman than me,” Mom says before taking a sip of her wine. She’s trying hard not to smile like a Cheshire cat, but I know.
Dad does too. He squeezes Mom’s hand. “Adam’s not even allowed to make toast in our kitchen.”
Adam groans. “Just because I started a fire that one time.”
I laugh as I excuse myself to find Mom’s tarot cards. The cookie jar is empty, but I locate a pack wedged between her cookbooks. “I hope Adam has told you about our mom’s talent for tarot,” I say, returning to the table.
Adam turns pink and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Sarah laughs, but I see how she places a reassuring hand on Adam’s knee. “Only after I found a deck in his escape room.”
We all turn to look at Mom.
“Oh, stop,” she says. “Can I help it if the universe has a sense of humor?”
“Yes,” Adam says emphatically.
“Ryan, you’re the criminal justice lawyer. What’s that phrase you’re always tossing around?” Mom taps a finger to her cheek. “Innocent until proven guilty?”
Before Ryan has a chance to recuse himself, I clear my throat. “What y’all don’t know is that I’ve taken up the family tradition. Come on, Mom. Let’s go read your fortune.”
“Oh, I’m coming.” Portia grabs Mom’s hand and nearly drags her to her feet.
“Me too!” Julie says.
“We’ll get dessert ready.” Adam pulls Sarah toward the safety of the kitchen.
Smart man.
“Have a seat, Mom.” On the patio, I gesture to the chair opposite the rattan peacock throne that I’ve assumed. Oh gosh, I hope this works. Because if it doesn’t, I’ll be opening the tarot floodgates and dooming all of us to a very long night.
“I think I’m good,” Mom says skeptically.
“Oh, come on.” Julie winks at me. “You’ve got to support Bea’s project. She’s finding herself.”
“Yes!” Portia says, a little too enthusiastically. “She’s carrying on the family legacy.” She takes Mom by the shoulders and steers her into the chair opposite me.
Mom looks as squirmy as I always feel when she insists on bringing out her cards.
“Open your mind,” I tell her as I spread the cards on the table. I try to take my mom’s hands and put them on the cards to shuffle them. It’s a move she’s done countless times to me, but she pulls away.
“I don’t think I want to,” Mom says.
Portia and Julie grab each other by the shoulders and look like they might explode with suppressed giggles. I have to admit it is entertaining to see Mom in the hot seat.
“Ask a question in your mind’s eye.”
“Is it time for dessert?” Mom says.
“Molly,” Portia chides. “This won’t work with that attitude.”
“Oh, I know how this works.” Mom’s hand grazes the cards, pausing over one that I dog-eared earlier in the kitchen. “What did you do to my cards?”
I mean, how else was I going to find it? “Your significator.” I place the Empress on the table. “Matriarch. Mother goddess. Powerful earth energy.”
I shuffle the remaining cards into a neat stack. Mom cuts them once, and then I deal four cards and form a cross around the Empress on the table.
