Page 2 of Pomegranates and Olive

"Her name is Madam Magda... and can I continue?" Ginny nods, and Rosie mimes zipping her lips. "Every card she turned over was symbolic to me.”

“Every card she turned over could’ve been symbolic to anyone.”

“But in that moment Rosie they all made sense. The two swords? I had a huge decision to make, something I was blind to. The fool card? I need to take a leap of faith.”

“A-N-Y-O-N-E!”

“Rosie? Let Liv speak.”

“She then turned over the Death card. She said that death is inevitable but to think of the death card as a symbol rather than an actual death. She said that it's the beginning of great changes in my life. Death to one life path and all…"

"Okay."

"She was wrong. I told her that she was wrong. I told her that my life is absolutely perfect, that I have a job that I love —"

Rosie snorts.

"— and I have an amazing guy who’s the right guy for me."

"Great."

"But she knew it was all a lie. She knew I was full of shit.”

“How?”

“She grabbed my hand, stared me dead in the eye, and quoted Shakespeare at me."

"Uh-oh."

My love of all things Shakespeare is well-known amongst my family and friends, mostly because I loved English literature in school, but also because my mother's ancestral family originated from Verona and, if you believe the family folklore, we are said to be the actual descendants of the Capelletti's. I regularly quote the Bard to anyone who will listen. Then again, I've also quoted Cardi B on occasion and I'm definitely not a fan of her WAP.

"That still doesn't explain why you're sitting on your old bedroom floor doing a quality imitation of Bridget Jones."

"Don't you understand? She quoted the Bard! The Bard!"

"It's probably because you look like a librarian."

Being called a librarian isn't the insult Rosie thinks it is, mostly because that's my job and I happen to love it. And I don't think I look like the stereotypical mousy-haired librarian either. I prefer the self-proclaimed term “hot nerd.”

I'm tall-ish,slim-ish, and my boobs, when they finally came in, are just a little more-ishthan a handful (they were worth the wait). But my best asset... wait... my best ass-et, like all the girls in the Russo family, is my ass. I have my Nonna's wonderful Italian butt. Think, part Sophia Loren and part Gina Lollobrigida. My grandfather, God rest his soul, used to say that my Nonna hadun bel sedere— a great butt. He was not well-known for his charm and wit.

Maintaining my figure isn’t always easy, especially when it’sthattime of the month and bloating comes on strong. I love my pasta and I eat a lot of it, and, although nothing can tame my voluptuousness, I've learned how to dress to compliment my body shape. Seriously, I can wear the hell out of a pair of skinny jeans and I've been known to knock a guy's socks (well my guy's socks) right off him in a slip dress!

"A hot, sexy, librarian, you mean."

I peek a look at myself on the tiny screen at the top right-hand corner of my computer and cringe at the sight of the demented-looking woman staring back at me with wild eyes. There's mascara running down her face and her usually blue, but with flecks of green, eyes look sore and puffy from crying. Her blonde hair resembles a bird's nest rather than its usual tangle of waves that fall half-way down her back, and her best feature, a full and generous mouth, still had the remains of last night's MAC Ruby Woo lipstick caked on. Kudos to MAC for their quality, long-term lipstick, but right now I was more not than hot.

"If that helps you then sure, sis."

Ginny did her best to get the conversation back on track. "So, what did this Madam Magda say?"

"She said, 'Always the wrong person gives you the right lesson in life.’"

"Which makes absolutely no sense."

"To you, maybe, brat."

But it hit me right in the feels.

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