Chapter Twenty-Eight
Pepper entered a nondescript storage room lined with industrial steel shelves full of disposable coffee cup lids, coffee bags, and bottles of hazelnut and vanilla flavoring. The aroma of coffee beans infused the air, rich and aromatic.
The beads swished and Delfi entered, holding a silver tray. “Take a seat,” she said, nodding to the room’s far corner. Beneath a small window was a circular table with two red plastic chairs. “Have you ever done tasseography?”
“Tasseo—sorry?” Pepper sat and crossed her legs. “Sorry, I have no idea what that is.”
“Tea-leaf reading.”
“Um, no. Never.” This was Elizabeth’s big plan? Fortune telling?
Delfi arranged a white pot and matching ceramic cup and saucer. “The first thing you need to do is steep the tea and quiet your mind.”
Pepper picked up the pot and poured as Delfi closed her eyes. Looked like they were going to get right to it. The barista’s posture was perfect, and she drew deep, measured breaths. They were about the same age. Her nose was pierced, and glitter sparkled on her cheekbones.
Delfi opened up one eye. “You’re not concentrating. Here.” She slid the cup over. “Sip and find your center.” Pepper reached, and Delfi captured her wrist. “Stop. You’re right-handed?”
“Y-es.”
“Then you’ll need to lift the cup with your left hand. And I can see that you’re distracted. This only works if you focus.”
“Right. Oops.” Pepper smashed her lids together, palming the warm cup and taking a slow careful sip. It was perfect. Hot. But not too hot.
“Drink the liquid carefully, avoid consuming too many tea leaves.”
Pepper did as she was told. “What’s next?” she asked when the cup was half-empty.
“Relax. Breathe.” Delfi flicked a lighter and procured a stick of incense from a hidden pocket in her voluminous emerald dress. She lit one end and set it onto the table edge. “Is there one question that is coming to the forethought of your mind? Take your time. Pretend to be a sieve and let feelings pass through you.”
“I don’t get this. Is the tea supposed to be magical because—”
“It’s not about the tea. Or even the water. You left traces of your psychic energy in the cup. That’s what we shall now read.”
Psychic energy? Oh come on. This was nonsense, but she was stuck. To bolt for the exit would be incomprehensibly rude. The only choice was to breathe in, breathe out. Grin and bear it. She closed her eyes. The first image was Elizabeth’s pretty face framed by her sleek, perfectly styled dark hair. Then Judge Hogg crumpling that Coke-splattered legal brief. The way Tuesday refused to meet her gaze when questioned about New York. Kitty’s sweet eyes. Miss Ida May in her pink Cadillac. And then Rhett, over her, under her, consuming her. Dad’s postcard. Subways. Traffic. Everland’s Main Street. The dog park. More Rhett. Kissing Rhett. Laughing Rhett. Those adorable eye crinkles. The way his collared shirts clung to his shoulders. The innate affection he gives to his dogs, his sister, her.
What should I do? Where do I fit in? Where do I belong?
Belong.
Rhett’s mouth on hers, his tongue tasting of home.
Dad needing her.
Tuesday needing her.
Rhett curled beside her in bed, watching a movie, feeding her popcorn bite by bite.
Where do I belong?
“Good,” Delfi murmured. “Now sip. Concentrate on the flavor of the tea. Leave a small amount at the bottom of the cup.”
Pepper complied.
“I want you to swirl the liquid around three times. Yes. Like that. And then dump the remaining liquid into the saucer. Perfect. Take a few more deep breaths and turn the cup back over.”
Pepper did everything asked. “Now what?”
“We read the tea.” Delfi stared. “Lines. Interesting.”
