“So anyway, she said she’d do a reading based on what I was looking for. You know, one-night stand, casual relationship, that sort of thing. I told her I wanted the real thing. I was looking for Love with a capital L.”
“Oh God, May. How much did she charge you?” Emmy demanded.
“Not a penny, Ms. Cynic. She said the reading was free since it was for true love, except I got the idea it would have been free anyway, but I was welcome to purchase something from the retail side of the shop. I did. Got myself two adorable vibrators.”
“What do you need two for?”
“They’re different colors.”
“Ah, of course.”
“So anyway,” May continued, “she does this reading for me, and get this… she tells me how I’m gonna meet the guy, what he’s gonna be like. Hold on, I took notes.”
“You took notes about your sex Tarot reading from the sex psychic.”
“I told you not to go Emmy on me!” May shot back without taking her eyes off her phone.
Emmy rolled her eyes and waited. From the sound of things, her sister had been taken in by a smooth-talking saleswoman, but at least the cost hadn’t been too high. As long as May was being truthful about not having to pay for the reading—and as long as she hadn’t given the sex psychic her social security number in order to solidify the psychic vibrations or whatever—the consequences weren’t too dire. The financial consequences, anyway. More worrying to Emmy at that moment were the emotional consequences when said mystery man failed to make his portended appearance. But they’d burn that bridge when they got to it.
“Okay, here it is. So first she did a three-card reading for me. Past, present, and future. Basically she said I was pushing too hard instead of sitting back a little and letting fate take its course.” She swiped through the pictures on her phone. The more excited she got, the more she mixed Japanese in with her English. May had always been more inclined to slip into Japanese than Emmy. “Look!Look right here. I drew—she had me draw the cards, not her—I drew the Five of Testicles. She said that meant in the past I was too easily taken in by flattery and false promises, which is likeeverydate I’ve ever had,ne? So then I got Edging, reversed, which I think means upside down? Anyway, she said that means it’s time to change my approach, and then, andthen, I drew The Lovers!Mite!Kawaidesune?” Another picture, this one of two people as entwined as it was possible for two people to be. They covered each other in such a way that it was impossible to determine gender, which Emmy admitted to herself was a nice touch. She wasn’t sure she’d go so far as to call it cute, as May had. “It’s the one card she didn’t reinvent, Emmy. She said nothing needed to be changed or updated about lovers meeting, you know? And she said it meant that I was going to find true love!”
“May… this is all very… interesting.” At her sister’s snort, Emmy decided to shoot straight. “I think this is bullshit.”
“I know you do, sweets. But I swear, it was unreal. We did way more than this. She told me things that she shouldnothave known, not even if she’d somehow anticipated I was coming and stalked me on social media. Even better, she got it. She told me I wasn’t wrong to look for love, and the stigma against online dating and dating apps was outdated… no pun intended. But she also said I should stop trying to force my happily ever after. And look at this picture.” She tilted her phone screen, swiped again. “The guy I’m going to meet. She told me to draw three cards, and this is what I got. I forget what they were all called, except this one I think was the Ten of Dildos, but I took notes on what she said. He’s going to be confident, a problem-solver, but not arrogant. Good at making deals, sharp, and intelligent. She said that meant he’d likely have a job where he had to wear a suit to work and use his intellect, something to do with the law or media. That was her guess, anyway. And thenhe’s going to be intensely devoted, sometimes um…chotto mate…” She paused to scroll down and read through her notes. “Sometimes to the point of stubbornness, but he will also have a playful side.”
“Sounds like your ideal man.”
“Yes! I’m so excited to meet him.”
“I don’t suppose the sex psychic told you where to find him,” Emmy said, dryly.
“She told me I’d meet him when our jobs brought us together.”
That could mean anything. May was a makeup and hair stylist who worked for Elegancia, a somewhat pricey event planning company. They took on everything from bar mitzvahs to weddings to corporate fundraisers. If the mystery man she was supposedly destined to meet wore a suit for a living, he might be part of a fundraiser. Or he could be at a cousin’s wedding, a niece’s bat mitzvah. It was so open-ended, and it left a lot of wiggle room for the supposed psychic. Emmy wanted to say all this out loud, but her sister was flying high on caffeine and dirty Tarot cards. It seemed wrong to drag her back down to Earth. They finished their coffee, made small talk about work, laughed about something their father had texted them. It was all perfectly normal. Emmy hoped her sister would be able to hold onto her optimistic and sunny attitude when Mr. Perfect failed to show his face. A part of her hated this stupid psychic for setting May up for such a huge disappointment, but Emmy reminded herself May was an adult and would be able to live with the consequences of her own actions.
One month, two weeks, and six days later (May had absolutely counted), May’s boss, Ando, decided the companywas ready to take on an online marketing campaign to advertise within the Twin Cities as well as farther out into North Dakota and Wisconsin. They took May and a few other coworkers to an ad agency where they had scheduled a meeting with three people who wore suits to work every day. One of those three people was Victor Coronado, a witty, intelligent, determined man who didn’t let May leave the building without his phone number.
Emmy still refused to believe in psychics.
*
By the time May finished telling the story of how she’d come to meet and fall in love with Victor, her audience was rapt. A chorus of “awws” followed the conclusion, and Emmy forced her eyes to hold still, though they ached to roll.
“Emmy, you look like you swallowed a lemon wedge,” May noted with a giggle. “Your superpower is being able to remain skeptical in the face of incontrovertible proof.”
“Seriously,” said Sheila, May’s best friend and coworker. “What was this place called? I’m tempted to go check it out.”
“It’s called Meet Cute,” May supplied. “But I thought you were still going strong with Danielle?”
“Going strong and banging like hammers, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t use a psychic reading on our sexual health. Or a new dildo.”
This was met with a combination of high-pitched laughter and clinking glasses as the women toasted to all things sex. Emmy smiled and shook her head, squeezing Sarah’s hand when she sensed her friend was about to make a comment.
“I’ll tell you my side of it later,” she said under her breath.
“Good. Because I have a lot of questions.”
The night was still young for many of the partygoers, but Emmy noted the time and sighed. She hated to leave—or rather, she knew May would hate for her to leave—but it was getting late.
