When Daniela was in her twenties, she’d joined a modern dance company in San Francisco, and Roger had been one of their biggest patrons. He’d sent two dozen roses to her dressing room every night for a month until she’d agreed to go out with him—a story Merritt personally found more creepy than romantic, but from the soft, fond look on Daniela’s face when she told it, she knew she should keep her judgment to herself.
It was clear from the way she talked about Roger that there had been genuine love between them, and Merritt felt a stab of guilt for ever giving the gold-digging black widow rumors anycredence. When Daniela had been forced to retire from dancing after blowing out her knee at thirty, the two of them had traveled the world together until his death a decade later. She’d let his children fight it out over the various houses and assets, since he’d left her everything she wanted: the house in Crested Peak, and more than enough money to start her botanical store, the next step of the hobby she’d been dabbling in since her injury.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” said Merritt, stirring another spoonful of honey into her tea. “Both losses, I mean. That must have been devastating.”
Daniela looked into her wineglass then back at Merritt, the corner of her mouth curving into a wry smile.
“They were,” she said. “But I knew when I started dancing that my career would be over at forty, if I was lucky. I knew when I married Roger our good years together were numbered. It was a reminder to stay present, and grateful. There’s a different kind of joy in something you know will end. I grieved those chapters of my life for a long time. But this chapter has been beautiful, too.” She stood up, going to the counter to pour herself another glass, then laughing self-deprecatingly. “I feel like I’ve been going on about myself for hours; you have to stop me when I get like this. Now I think it’syourturn to clear up some gossip.” She turned back to Merritt, arching an eyebrow with a dramatic flourish. “What the hell is going on between you and Niko?”
Merritt had been bracing herself for this, so she was prepared with a nonchalant shrug. “He’s been working on my house, so we’ve been spending a lot of time together. He’s a great guy. We’re friends. That’s all it is, though.”
She felt guilty about not reciprocating Daniela’s openness, but she’d already decided the best course of action was to never tell another soul and hope Niko did the same. She cast her eyesaround the room, desperate to change the subject, settling on a stack of boxes on the kitchen table. “Wow, you have a lot of tarot decks. Do you use all of them?”
Daniela shot her a you’re-not-fooling-anyone smirk, but thankfully she let it slide. “No, none of those are the main one I use. I’m looking at a few options to carry at the store.”
“Oh,” said Merritt, a connection sparking in her brain. “Do you know Jo?” When Daniela shook her head, she continued. “They’re, um, they live with Niko and bartend at Off the Rails. But we were just talking about how they’ve been wanting to get into tarot but feel overwhelmed with how to start.”
Daniela grinned. “Well, tell them to come by the store. I’m not an expert or anything, but I’d be happy to help.”
Merritt picked up the top box and slid out the cards, drawn to the rich turquoises and oranges, the gold foil glinting off the edges. “This one is gorgeous.”
“Do you want a reading?” Daniela asked, sliding back into the chair across from her. “A quick one. Three-card spread.”
“How could you tell I need one?” deadpanned Merritt.
“Just a hunch.”
Daniela shuffled the cards a few times, then handed them to Merritt to do the same, before instructing her to cut the deck. She dealt three cards face down between them.
“Past,” she said, turning over the card to Merritt’s left. “Eight of swords.”
“Looks about right,” Merritt murmured, taking in the image of a woman standing, bound and blindfolded, swords stuck vertically into the cracked ground around her. Daniela laughed under her breath.
“You were in a situation where you felt trapped and powerless. You couldn’t see a way out. But it was a prison of your own making, to a certain extent.”
Her eyes flicked up to Merritt, who nodded mutely. She turned over the center card, which displayed a man and a woman facing each other, arms linked, each drinking from the other’s cup. “Two of cups.” She shot Merritt a sly look, then returned her gaze to the spread. “There’s someone in your life you feel a strong connection with, a sense of partnership. You have the potential to build something strong and enduring together.” She took a sip of wine, mumbling, “Like a house,” under her breath. Merritt snorted, despite herself.
“But it’s not necessarily romantic, right?” she said, a desperate edge to her voice.
Daniela shook her head, a little indulgently. “No, it could be a friend. Or a sibling. Or even two halves of yourself, coming into harmonious union for the first time. But whatever it is, it’s very powerful, and runs deep. You have a lot to give in relationships—all kinds, not just romantic—when you allow yourself to.” She pointed to the pair of snakes intertwined in the background. “See the caduceus? There’s an element of healing involved, too.”
Merritt mulled that over as Daniela flipped the last one. “See, what did I tell you? Ten of pentacles. Abundance, prosperity, security. Home. You’re going to be totally fine.” She looked up, fixing Merritt with a stern glare. “As long as you open yourself up to it.”
Merritt mimed wiping sweat off her brow as she blew out a breath. “Well, that’s a relief.”
Daniela laughed, sweeping the cards back into the deck. “Do you have a deck of your own?”
Merritt shook her head. “I had a girlfriend who was really into it. She bought me one and we’d draw cards every morning. It was nice. But when we broke up, it felt like her energy was all over it, so I got rid of it.”
“Want to take this one?” Daniela offered the cloth pouch to her.
It didn’t take much persuading for Merritt to accept. She left with the deck, Daniela’s phone number, and a promise from Daniela to take Merritt on a day trip to Boulder to hit all of the best antique shops.
She walked home buoyed on a cloud of optimism, almost to the point of mania. Maybe Niko had been the catalyst for expanding her life recently, but it didn’t have to be limited to him.
That reading didn’t need to be about him, either.
As soon as she was back in her room, she took out her phone and scrolled to her text thread with Nora. Their last conversation had been months ago, she noticed with a pang.
