“Thanks,” Hannah said. “Do you have a question for me?” The nervousness dissipated as she repeated to herself to focus on the meaning of the cards and ignore her pessimistic gut.
Cathy blew out a breath. “Okay, how about this; I want to know if there is romance in my future.”
Hannah repeated the question to herself and shuffled the cards a few more times. Then she held out the deck to Cathy. “Cut the deck anywhere you’d like and then turn over the portion you take and give me the top card.”
Cathy spilt the deck and turned it over to show The Lovers. “Well, that seems promising.”
“The first card in the three-card spread represents the past. The Lovers represent love that is worth the risk, so much so that you might have changed your life for it.”
Cathy blinked her eyes rapidly. “Wow,” she said.
“Would you say this card was accurate?”
Cathy just nodded her head.
Hannah pulled the next card, and she almost frowned but then she caught herself. “This card shows us what is going on right now. Five of Cups is about sadness, loss, and the acceptance of death.” Hannah’s stomach clenched. Cathy was biting her bottom lip.
“Go on,” she said quietly.
“The last card, as you can guess, is about what is to come—usually in a relatively short time frame.”
“I hope it’s a good one.”
“It’s better not to think of any of the cards as good or bad. They all have an important role in life.”
“Right, I get it, but still.”
Hannah turned the card over.
“Here comes the sun,” Cathy said. “That must be good.”
Hannah smiled. “The sun represents a joyful time, especially after a time of darkness. It also points to happiness and finding the beauty in life.”
Cathy traced the outline of the sun on the card with her finger. Hannah’s heart fell as she saw tears at the corners of Cathy’s eyes. Cathy pressed her palms to her eyes, and Hannah looked around frantically for tissues. Her eyes fell on the paper napkins at the tea station. Hannah stood up and got a napkin. She handed it to Cathy. Cathy took it and dabbed at her eyes. Then Cathy stood up and cleared her throat. “That was interesting. Definitely something to think about. I’ve got to get going. How much do I owe for the candle?”
“It’s eighteen dollars total.” Hannah swallowed hard as Cathy handed her exact change and rushed out of the store. She had blown it. She’d tried to stick to the cards, and she’d still upset Cathy. Maybe she should stop thinking she would ever have the right skills to do this for a living.
Looking back later that afternoon, she wondered if she should have said more about the Five of Cups or asked Cathy if the card resonated with her life, or talked to her more to get a feel before starting the reading. Hannah had stuck precisely to what the cards’ meanings were, even though her intuition was telling her she should’ve been more descriptive than precise when doing a reading for Cathy.
Hannah had been working on trusting herself this year through her tarot card practice. But between this morning and this reading just now, she didn’t feel like she was doing a goodjob. Maybe she was right not to trust her gut. Hannah checked her phone. No texts or missed calls from anyone, but especially not Kate. She shouldn’t be surprised. Kate hadn’t said she wouldn’t contact her, but it seemed pretty clear the last time they’d been together that she probably wouldn’t. Hannah’s eyes stung. The time on her phone was wavy. Now she needed a tissue.
Chapter Sixteen
Kate smiled as she closed the store on Friday night. Not only had the local pop station switched over to playing all holiday music until December twenty-sixth, but she’d also finished the first week of the holiday season with more sales than this time last year. It was a promising start. In the back of her mind, however, a voice whispered, even with great sales, she wasn’t going to be able to bridge the gap. Veronica had given the proposed lease to her lawyer to review, so that was coming along well. Kate was making more money, but she still needed a sizeable chunk between now and then to make that down payment.
She locked up downstairs and made her way up to her apartment. In short order, she had a frozen pizza cooking in the oven and had changed into her pajamas. She opened her freezer and pulled out a frosty pint glass. Was there anything better than a cold beer and cheese pizza? Only Oma’s pierogies were in the running. As the week had gone on, she’d been thinking more and more about Hannah. It was getting hard to remember why shedidn’t want to get involved with her, especially with a little buzz from her IPA giving her warm and fuzzy feelings. The problem wasn’t that Hannah was younger than her, though she was about ten years Kate’s junior. It was the fact that she was a baby queer. Kate had already dated women who were still figuring out their sexuality, and she was tired of being someone’s first. She was tired of helping a girlfriend navigate the queer community. Every time she was someone’s first, she wasn’t their last.
Before she could let herself get too mopey, the timer on her oven went off, and she concentrated on enjoying her dinner while it was hot. She’d much rather have gotten her usual veggie thin crust with a side of fried mushrooms from Best Pizza Near Me, but she’d committed to saving money wherever she could. Thinking about that just reminded her she needed to figure out some way to maximize her sales at the Mistletoe Market if she was going to have any hope of getting the building. She needed something special that would make people come to her hut. But she knew there wasn’t enough of a profit margin on the pet supplies she sold. And she only had so many hours in a day to bake treats. She’d already hired a couple of high school students as part-time help to start next week, and while that would help her workload, it was more money coming out of her profits. Now, stress over money was threatening to ruin her pizza.
Kate pushed thoughts of work out of the way and pulled out her phone. As had become her habit lately, she went straight to Hannah’s @MaximTheeMag account. If only Hannah would post more or do a live stream, or DM her. She’d liked every post Hannah made—did she dare to find out what would happen if she direct messaged Hannah? Did she want to know? This circle of should she, shouldn’t she had been going on for days now, and it was a very annoying loop to be stuck in. She knew she was on the cusp of potentially great changes in her life, and that was kind of scary.
Each time she went to the account, Kate held her breath, hoping that Hannah had finally posted a forward-facing picture of herself on the account. Instead, the posts were pictures of tarot card spreads, and sometimes her hands. Today, however, she’d posted a short video showing a black cat playing with a stuffed pumpkin. Kate’s chest tightened. That must be Hannah’s cat, Smoky. His fur was a perfect match for bonfire smoke. He was a small cat. Kate assumed he must have been the runt of the litter.
Kate’s heart ached. She missed having a pet. Kate missed the unconditional love a furry companion offered. She would never forgive Brittany for keeping their dog. She clenched her fist against the ghost of fur she could almost feel as she thought about Oreo. He was the best dog ever. She ground her teeth. Even though she wanted to see him, she would not look at Brittany’s social media. Nothing good would come out of that. Wrapping her hand around her pint glass, she raised it up to her lips and finished off the last of the high ABV IPA.
After watching Hannah’s cat scamper around a few more times and analyzing the background in the video, wondering what Hannah’s place looked like, Kate gave in.
What could it hurt to message Hannah?
