by Ariella Moon
"Think it will be enough to save the store?" Thor asked.
I shook my head. "We're way past Black Friday. We have too much ground to make up."
"Good thing Jett agreed to do his fire fortunes." Thor shelved a book about elemental magic, then placed two tarot decks back in their basket.
"He better not wimp out!" Lucia yelled from across the store.
I stood on tiptoe and whispered in Thor's ear. "Does she have supernatural hearing, or what?"
His eyes took on a flirty gleam and his arm slid around my waist. "Come closer. I couldn't hear you."
He sure seemed healthy.
I gently pushed him away, but remained within his arms. "Liar," I teased.
Uncle Esmun cleared his throat.
Thor released me, but before I slipped away, he whispered, "Told you I wouldn't disappear."
I leveled my gaze at him. "I'm holding you to your promise."
"Find a room!" Lucia's back was to us as she tidied a rack of ceremonial capes.
"Does she have eyes in the back of her head?" Thor mouthed.
"Internal echolocation—"
Loud knocking on the glass door startled me.
"It's your mum, Romeo."
"Enough, Lucia." Uncle Esmun sounded tired as he walked to the front door. "You may clock out now. All of you can. Great job today. Thanks, Thor."
"You didn't drive?" Worry crept into my voice.
"The doc said to wait a week." Thor pulled me behind a bookcase. "Dream of me," he whispered.
My abdomen fluttered. My hands mimicked a dragon in flight. The corners of Thor's lips curved into a smile.
The lock clicked open and the chime clanged. "Good evening, Kate," Uncle Esmun said. "Come in. How you be?"
Thor winked. The gesture quickened my pulse. "Bye," he said.
"Bye."
He didn't kiss me. He didn't pull me forward to say hi to his mother. He just left. I had the uneasy feeling things had changed. Was it because we knew the truth about each other?
Maybe he was just being a guy.
I leaned against the bookcase and closed my eyes. We're damaged goods. He knows my secret. I know his. Don't think of him as sick, or he'll break off whatever we have together. I hugged myself. Hope he doesn't think of me as the crazy girl.
Barefoot, I crept down the back hall. I had lost sleep again last night over the solstice event. I hoped today's sales figures were high, because part of me feared Jett would be a last-minute no-show. Either his mom would pull something, or performance anxiety would slaughter him. Something.
Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun had taken me in when my parents had ditched me, making it seem like a blessing instead of an inconvenience. No way would I let them lose Spiral Journeys.
Jett would have to man up. And I'd do whatever it took to make him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next evening, Aunt Terra's eyes widened as her gaze swept the graphs, layouts, and lists spread across the spare bed in my room. She collapsed beside me on the other bed, her feet swollen and bare like mine after another long day on the sales floor. The cypress, juniper, and lemon scents wafting from the Wakening incense in the living room overlaid dinner's lingering Chinese takeout smells.
"What's all this?" she asked.
"My notes for the solstice." Six days remained until the big event. The weekend had passed at warp speed thanks to the new customers lured by social media and the morning's Desert Sun feature article on Jett.
Aunt Terra propped up her chin with her hand and read aloud, "Refreshments. Room layout. Board members' assigned jobs. Media contacts. Contingency plans." The latter list was brief and lame, because I hadn't thought of a single notable substitute for Jett's fire fortunes. If he flaked, we all flamed.
"Let's see." Aunt Terra examined the task assignment sheet. "Lucia will help set up. You have me selling tickets. Esmun will handle the will call tickets. Mac will work security at the door. Portia will guide people to their seats. You'll watch Isis. Thor will guard the makeshift stage, then sit in for me and process latecomers while I introduce Jett." She lowered the paper. "Maybe we shouldn't count on Thor being there."
Pain knifed my heart. "Do you know something I don't?"
"No, but I know his mother. When this happened the first time, she all but put him under house arrest."
"Why? It's not like he asked to have a heart problem."
"I know. But Kate got scared. Her father had died of a heart attack before Thor was born. She was afraid she'd lose Thor, too."
I rubbed my arms. Will I be like Kate in ten years, inflicting my fear and anxiety on my kids?
"So let's hope Kate will allow Thor out of the house, but plan in case she doesn't," Aunt Terra said.
I wondered if his mom would confiscate Thor's computer and phone along with his car keys. "I'll talk to Morningstar. Maybe she can fill in."
"Perfect." She glanced down at the sheet. "What about Hazel and Cerelia?"
"Hazel developed a previous engagement," I said in a snarky tone. "And Cerelia will be in Sedona visiting her daughter and son-in-law."
"I forgot Cerelia goes every year." Aunt Terra rolled her eyes. "Well, we won't have to worry about Hazel trying to steal the spotlight."
I gaped. It was the first critical thing Aunt Terra had said. The stress must have sloughed away her usual filter. She placed the task sheet on the bed and plucked an orchid-colored paper from a stack and inspected it. "Five things to keep Isis occupied?"
"I promised Jett I'd watch her. Otherwise, no event."
"Have you babysat before?"
"No. But I may have led Jett to believe otherwise."
"You didn't!"
"It will be fine. But as a precaution, you'll collect the money instead of me."
Aunt Terra massaged her right foot. "We've sold nineteen tickets so far."
"People always wait until the last minute," I assured her, although the low numbers worried me. "I'll send out a reminder email blast on Monday."
"Thanks. You're doing a great job. Esmun and I would be lost without you."
"Glad I could help. That's what families are for."
Aunt Terra hugged me in a lavender- and Mandarin beef-scented cloud. Releasing me, she asked, "What did your almanac say for today?"
"I don't know. Things have been so crazy, I haven't checked it since Thor and I went to Joshua Tree." I located my purse on top of the tower-like dresser and pulled out the small, handcrafted book.
Aunt Terra rose and yawned. "I'm beat. Mind if I claim the first shower?"
"Go for it."
"Great. I'll make it quick so there will be hot water left for you. Esmun is in the garage, if you have any questions about the almanac."
"Thanks." We'd learned the hard way their aging water heater maxed out at two showers a night — one if we ran the dishwasher. Good thing Uncle Esmun preferred morning showers.
I carried the little book to my bed and plopped down. The sticky note with its dire warning to not read ahead still clung to the December eleventh entry. Detaching it, I flipped the page.
December Twelve
Moon void of course at 7:37 a.m. Pacific Standard Time
Moon enters Taurus at 12:40 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Tarot: Three of Wands
Hard work will be needed to make a creative idea flourish. The moon in Taurus demands cooperation. Be open to others' ideas. Expect to take a journey.
I wasn't too sure about the demands part. But if the almanac was telling me to get along with Jett to make the solstice event a success, message received. "Tell me something I don't already know." I stuck the sticky note on my pant leg and read the next page.
December Thirteen
Moon still in Taurus
Tarot: Wheel of Fortune (Major Arcana X)
All options are open to you. Will your luck be good or bad? Not sure? Create your own luck. Take control of the Wheel and spin it.
I thought back. The thirteenth had been Friday, so
bad luck may have been indicated. But sales had been good as we had readied the store for Demonstration Day. But I hadn't heard from Thor. Hmm.
I examined the next page.
December Fourteen
Moon still in Taurus
Moon void of course 6:54 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Moon enters Gemini, 10:40 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Tarot: The Hermit (Major Arcana IX)
In silence and meditation, journey within and search your soul. Take a breath. Listen to the voice within you before you chart your course.
Guess I had flunked the Hermit day. I couldn't remember a single moment on Saturday when I had had a chance to catch my breath, must less meditate. I had been too busy working the sales the floor. Unless… I flashed on my solitary moment in the hall after Thor's mother had picked him up.
I hugged my pillow. Aunt Terra had sketched the hermit cloaked in dark robes and holding a staff and lantern. He appeared pensive. I shifted on the bed and turned the page.
December Fifteen
Moon still in Gemini
Tarot: Four of Pentacles
You are too focused on material possessions and acquisitions and are spiritually barren.
"How rude. 'Spiritually barren'." Sure, I hadn't made it to church this morning, but didn't helping out my family count for something? Of course I was focused on materialism. I'm trying to save Spiral Journeys!
Deciding I had real issues with the moon in Gemini, I flipped to the next page.
December Sixteen
Moon still in Gemini
Tarot: Justice (Major Arcana XI)
You must make a difficult decision based on what you believe is fair.
The phone in the kitchen trilled, startling me. It rang twice before the sound of running water reminded me Aunt Terra was in the shower. The next ring made me sit straighter and listen for Uncle Esmun. Realizing he was in the garage, I raced into the kitchen. With a lunge, I grabbed the phone before it went to voicemail and held it a few inches from my ear.
"Hello?" I marked my page with the warning sticky and placed the almanac on the kitchen counter.
"Ainslie! So glad you picked up!"
"Mommy!"
"Sweetie, we left messages on your cell. I can't believe you forgot it. We just got your email and voicemail. How are you? Are you taking your meds?"
Tears surged. I blinked them back and sniffed. "I'm okay. I miss you and Dad. How's the cruise? Where are you?" Have you decided to divorce or stay together?
"We're in Uruguay. The ship had some mechanical problems—"
"Oh no!" Old news footage of the sunken Italian ship off the coast of Tuscany flashed in my mind. Anxiety funneled up my arms.
"Don't worry! We're in port and safe. But the cruise line is flying us home. So we get to spend Christmas with you!"
The anxiety tornado collapsed. "Are you serious?"
"Yes! Dad and I can't wait to see you."
"I can't wait to see you!"
"It's the high season, though. The only—" Her words garbled.
"Mom!" I shouted into the phone. "You're breaking up." I faced the dining room, as if shifting would improve the reception. The front door opened. Uncle Esmun passed the bronze dragon perched on the painted chest and crossed the tile entry with one long stride.
"On the twent—" Mom said.
"Mom? I can't hear you." The line went dead. "Darn!"
"You heard from your mother?" Uncle Esmun leaned against the kitchen doorjamb, a light bulb in hand.
"Yes, but her cell cut out." I clicked off the phone and placed it in the charger, then pivoted and pumped soap from the dispenser behind the sink.
"Bummer."
Pump. Wash. Pump. Wash. "They're flying home early." Pump. Wash.
"Who's flying home early?" Aunt Terra asked. Uncle Esmun stepped into the galley to make room for his wife. Aunt Terra paused in the doorway with her head bowed as she toweled her wet hair.
"Mom and Dad." I levered off the water and tore away two paper towels.
Aunt Terra stopped drying her hair and glanced up, flicking water droplets on my arm. "Maybe we should sit down."
The paper towels landed in the wastebasket beneath the sink, next to an avocado rind. I picked up the almanac. Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun waited for me beside the faux Queen Anne table before sitting. My ballet flats sank into the rose floral area rug. I pulled out "my" seat, the one with the best view of he patio, and dropped into the chair. "Their ship is having mechanical problems, but they are safely at a port."
"Thank goodness they weren't stuck at sea." Aunt Terra wrapped the towel around her head as she sat.
"Will the cruise continue?" Uncle Esmun asked.
"No. Everyone is flying home. Mom said we'd get to spend Christmas together."
Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun exchanged a worried glance. "I'm not sure we can get you a plane ticket this close to Christmas. The airlines are usually booked solid."
"I think they had already bought me one, but the phone died before I could get the details." Nervous energy sparked down my arms. My fingers trembled and the veins on the back of my hand stood out. I tapped the almanac on the table. Aunt Terra winced, so I stopped.
"I bet they'll email you from the airport, or their hotel if they are spending the night." Aunt Terra glanced at Uncle Esmun.
His expression brightened. "You can check your emails at the store before we open."
For the millionth time, I wished I had a smartphone — any phone.
"Maybe Niffer will get to a better location and call us back," Aunt Terra said.
Mom's nickname brought a half-smile to my face. Dad called her Jen. Only her family called her Niffer.
"What does your almanac say?" Uncle Esmun prodded.
I opened to the most recent page and read aloud. "December sixteenth—"
"Wait," Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun said in unison. They exchanged an odd look. Then Aunt Terra said, "Today is the fifteenth."
My gaze darted to the orange sticky note and the warning inked in black permanent marker. "DON'T READ AHEAD!" My heart crashed and burned at my feet.
"It might not be all bad." Uncle Esmun rubbed his nose.
I scanned the smaller print, written in blue ink. "Unless you absolutely have to."
"It was an accident." I searched their eyes for reassurance. "I didn't mean to read ahead. Nothing bad will happen to my parents, will it?" Panic exploded in my head. I tried to draw air into my lungs but couldn't. Anxiety buzz-sawed up my legs.
Aunt Terra clasped both my wrists as tears flash-flooded my cheeks. "No one is going to die."
"But I screwed up." Pent-up sobs shuddered out of me. "And they're about to get on a plane—" I couldn't draw air into my lungs.
Uncle Esmun scooted behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. Warmth and peaceful mojo seeped into me. Aunt Terra swept her hands down my arms, launched them off my fingertips, and then flicked. The gestured reminded me of Thor. I willed myself to stop sobbing. Aunt Terra made two more passes and flicks before settling back in her chair.
Uncle Esmun brushed my shoulders and flicked. My breathing calmed. "Worrying just attracts bad energy. Close your eyes and envision the outcome you'd most like to see."
"You sound like my friend Jazmin." I lowered my lids. Happy outcome… I forced an image of my parents and me singing carols in the music room. The scene seemed pre-programmed and no longer valid. I raised one shoulder then the other, trying to bring myself into alignment. Mentally, I whisked the picture aside. Another image hovered out of view. I straightened in the chair. Come on, happy outcome… It remained hidden, like an unopened present. I huffed air out my nose and opened my eyes.
"Maybe she should pull a card," Aunt Terra said to Uncle Esmun.
"Good idea. Be right back." He disappeared into their bedroom and returned a moment later with a shimmering gold pouch. "A dragon spread or one card?" he asked Aunt Terra as he handed her the cloth bag.
She angled h
er head at me while she loosened the drawstrings. I knew from past panic attacks how awful I must look — face red and blotchy, mascara smeared under my eyes from crying, nose dripping, eyes wild from the aftereffects of panic. My veneer of good breeding melted like faulty wiring.
"One card." Aunt Terra probably thought I didn't have the fortitude to survive more. She placed the tarot deck on the table, knocked on it three times, then handed it to me. "Shuffle however you like, then cut the deck into three piles."
My fingers trembled, and I fumbled with the unwieldy gilt-edged deck. After much awkwardness, the cards seemed sufficiently reassembled. I placed the deck on the table and separated it into three stacks, which I fussed with until they were even in height and distance apart.
Aunt Terra placed the third stack on top of the second, and the combined stack on top of the first. "Fan them out," she coached.
I did, poking and spreading until the cards appeared uniformly spread.
"Glide your hand above them. When your finger drops and touches a card, freeze on it."
"Okay." My fingers shook. Two-thirds of the way, my middle finger touched a card.
"Pull it from the deck."
I did as instructed, leaving the card face down, not quite ready to view my fate.
Uncle Esmun leaned forward. "Let's see what you got."
Most of the tarot cards mentioned in the almanac had been accompanied by depressing or dire warnings. How much worse could it get? I flipped over the card.
Number thirteen.
Death.
Chapter Twenty-Four
"It's not as bad as you think," Aunt Terra said.
It was probably worse. There are skulls.
"The Death card has a bad rap," Uncle Esmun insisted.
"It doesn't mean death, death," Aunt Terra said. "Rather, the end of a cycle. Remember, Major Arcana cards mean you're working on a deep spiritual level, not a mundane level."
"So no one I love is going to die?"
"We all die," Aunt Terra said. "But this card warns of change and the symbolic death of something. A relationship. An old way of life." She glanced at Uncle Esmun and sighed. "A business failure."
"I see." A relationship. Had my parents decided to divorce? Would Thor end whatever was between us? A business failure…Spiral Journeys? Her explanation didn't make me feel gobs better.