Touching Fate

by Brenda Drake

  “Sure. I simply love them.” Aster raised her arm for Leah to see the corsage.

  “Impressive,” Leah said, giving Reese a wink with her good eye. “He’s a keeper.”

  Reese leaned closer to Leah and whispered, “Um, you have something black on your eye.”

  Leah slapped her hand over her face. “Damn it.”

  Aster stepped closer, removed Leah’s hand, and inspected her eye. “It’s mascara. Come on, I’ll help you. Did you bring your eye lubricant?”

  “Yes, but it’s going to mess up my makeup,” Leah said as Aster led her to the stairs. “Having a prosthetic eye really blows sometimes. What a way to ruin a perfect entrance, huh?”

  “You didn’t ruin it.” Aster bumped her shoulder. “Just think of it this way, we get a redo.”

  Leah laughed. “And that’s why I love you. Always looking for the bright side of things.”

  “Take as long as you need,” Reese said. “We can wait.”

  Aster glanced at him and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  “Oh no,” Leah whined. “Do you think it will be noticeable in all the pictures…?” Her voice faded as the girls disappeared upstairs. Reese and the others took seats around the room as they waited for the girls’ return, everyone who’d taken photos checking to see if the mark was visible in them.

  …

  The night had gone perfectly, with dinner at Aster’s favorite seafood restaurant by the ocean, a walk on the beach to watch the sunset, and a limousine ride to the dance. Holding Aster in his arms, Reese swayed silently with her on the dance floor, since the music was too loud for conversation.

  The heat built between them and perspiration dampened his temples. Her body felt good next to his. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the faint hint of her perfume—a spicy, fruity scent. She ran her fingers through his hair and blew on his temple to cool him. Kissing a trail from her collarbone to behind her ear, he felt excitement tighten in his pants. She drew in a sharp breath, and her breasts pressed against his chest. He couldn’t wait to get her alone.

  Leah fell into them, wrapping an arm around Reese’s neck and one around Aster’s. “This is lame!” she yelled over the music. “Let’s take the party to the guys’ condo.”

  Aster cocked her brows with a sly smile on her face, as if to seek his opinion.

  If he could have been heard over the loud music, he’d have attempted to answer her. Instead, he nodded a bit too enthusiastically, but he could care less how eager he seemed. He snatched Aster’s hand and led her to the limousine.

  During the ride, Reese was completely engrossed in Aster. He had almost forgotten Jan and Leah were in the backseat with them. The loud smacking and moans from the other side of the limo clued him in to their presence. He pulled Aster closer, and she tilted her face up to meet his kiss. His hands ran down her delicate back, their kisses deepening as if they were starved for each other.

  The limo came to a stop entirely too soon in Reese’s opinion. “We’re here,” Aster whispered against his lips.

  He grudgingly released her. “I suppose we are.”

  They stumbled out and into the flat.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Reese asked, heading for the kitchen. “We have champagne.”

  She gave him a look.

  “You don’t like champagne?”

  “I had it once. It wasn’t very good,” Aster said, dropping her purse on the counter and removing her heels.

  “You’ll like this one. It’s on the sweeter side.”

  “Okay, I’ll try some.”

  Reese popped the cork on the bottle and poured a fair amount into the four glasses he had set out before leaving for the prom. He removed a tray full of cheeses and fruit from the fridge.

  A door slammed shut in the back of the flat.

  “I guess we’ll just need two glasses,” Aster said, sauntering around the counter to him, a hungry look in her eyes.

  “I suppose so.” He eyed her suspiciously as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  She tilted her head back to view his face. “I’m glad we decided to come here instead of getting a hotel. It’s more personal. Maybe we could have ours in your room?”

  “That is complete, utter madness…” He leaned over and kissed her neck. “I’m not certain you can control yourself.”

  “Who said I had to control myself?” She pulled away from him and sashayed out of the kitchen.

  Reese downed one of the glasses, then grabbed two filled ones and rushed after her.

  Her phone went off, causing her to pause. “Shit. I forgot to call my mom and check in. I’ll meet you in your room,” she said, hurrying to her purse and answering the call.

  He couldn’t help but watch her. Though the night had wilted her hair and she no longer wore her heels, she still looked lovely with a bright smile on her flushed face.

  “Hi, Mom, I’m sorry, I was just going to—” The smile faltered. Reese eased his way toward her and put the glasses down on the counter. “What? I don’t understand.” She swallowed back a sob as she listened to her mother. “I’ll be right there. W-what hospital?”

  The look on her face told Reese something was terribly wrong.

  She nodded to the phone as if her mother could see her. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

  “What happened?” Reese wrapped his arms around her.

  “My grandmother. She’s…she’s sick,” she sputtered into his chest. “I-I have to get Leah to drive me to the hospital.”

  Leah had picked Jan up earlier in the day and had him drop her off to get ready at Aster’s house. Jan had then parked her vehicle at the condo so the girls would have transportation home at the end of the night. By the sounds, or rather lack of sound, coming from Jan’s room, Reese decided he should gather them.

  …

  Aster’s and Leah’s heels tapped down the sterile halls of the hospital. The place smelled oddly of antiseptic and a dash of cloves. Reese hadn’t let go of Aster’s hand since leaving his flat. She clung to his fingers as if she were about to take a horrible fall.

  Her sisters sat in the waiting room chairs just outside the doors to the ICU. Daisy’s head rested on Violet’s lap. Iris still wore her prom dress, but her clod of a boyfriend wasn’t with her. Reese had spotted her several times at the prom looking for him. On one of Reese’s trips to the restroom, he’d spotted her boyfriend arguing with another girl.

  Violet stood when Aster crossed the carpet to them. “Aster,” she said, darting to her and flinging her arms around her.

  Aster grasped Violet’s arms as if she needed support. “What happened to Gram?”

  “After dinner, she couldn’t breathe,” she said, her voice cracking. “Mom called 911. They’ve stabilized her—and—and they’ve just let Mom in to see her.”

  Tears filled Aster’s eyes. “She couldn’t breathe? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, that’s what she said.”

  “No. It can’t be.” Aster let go and stumbled back. “It can’t be,” she repeated in a grainy whisper.

  Reese ran to Aster, steadying her before she fell. “Easy there. You should sit.” He guided her to a nearby seat, then dropped to his heels in front of her, resting his hands on her knees. “Shall I get you some water?”

  “No.” She leaned forward until her face was about an inch from his. “I did this,” she hissed. “I did this.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Gram. She’s sick because of me.” Sadness haunted her eyes. Reese worried her words had something to do with the fates he knew she had changed for Miri’s customers. He was about to ask her what she meant, but her mother came out the doors leading to the ICU.

  Aster’s grandmother was stable. The initial scan revealed a mass in her lungs. The doctors scheduled more tests for the next few days. Her grandmother was resting, and her mother sent them all home until visiting hours the next day.

  Reese didn’t sleep at all after Leah had dropped Jan and him off at their fla
t. He changed into his jogging clothes and headed to Miri’s house. Rain drenched his hair. The ocean angrily slapped the waves against the shoreline. The slate-gray sky matched his mood. Gloomy.

  He banged on Miri’s door until his knuckles hurt. Finally, she opened it.

  “Why are you here?” she snarled at him. “The sun’s barely up, you lunatic.”

  He snarled back at her, “Tell me what happened yesterday during Aster’s fate changing. Why does she think she caused her grandmother’s illness?”

  The reader opened the door wider. “Hurry, get inside. We don’t need anyone hearing our business.”

  Reese blew past her and paced the entry while she shut and bolted the door. “Now, what’s this all about?”

  “Aster’s grandmother is in the hospital,” he said. “And Aster believes she caused it.”

  “What’s the matter with her grandmother?”

  He stopped pacing. “The doctors discovered a mass in her lungs…she can’t breathe on her own.”

  The grave look on Miri’s face concerned Reese. “There was a woman. She was suffering from lung cancer—”

  “And you let her reverse it?” He picked up pacing again, anger burning through his veins. He kicked a basket sitting on the floor. Knitting needles and yarn spilled out of it.

  “I didn’t know this could happen. You should have told me.” She picked up the spilled knitting supplies and placed them back in the basket. “I thought it was just cursed fates that held consequences.”

  “I wasn’t aware either, but somehow she is transferring them.” He unlocked the door. “Stay away from her. Stop the callings.”

  “Your death is near,” she warned. “What will you do?”

  “It’s not your concern any longer. I will deliver your final payment and you will stay away from Aster.” He yanked open the door and slammed it behind him.

  What can I do? How do I stop this?

  Reese felt slightly nauseous. Aster’s grandmother could die, and it would be his fault. If Aster learned the truth, she’d never forgive him. What did it matter? He’d be dead in a month’s time, anyway. He had to stick to his plan. He did know the consequences of removing his curse. An eye for an eye sort of thing. More like a death for a death. A firstborn son. But Aster’s family didn’t have sons.

  There had been one known incident where the curse hadn’t transferred because there wasn’t a living son in the fate changer’s family. The curse died instead of the boy at the end of his eighteenth birthday, and it never affected the future sons of the fate changer.

  I’ll just explain that to her. She has to want to save me. We love each other. I love her?

  Reese lowered his head, kicking puddles on the sidewalk. Fear twisted his stomach.

  I love her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aster

  Just outside Aster’s window, seagulls cried and screeched over the shore, searching for food. She felt numb. Her eyes burned from crying the entire night, unable to sleep. Gram was dying, and it was all her fault. She wanted to fix it, but didn’t know how. She stared at the poster on her wall. It was of a girl sitting alone on a bench holding a single flower, one sock up and the other down, her knees knocked together.

  “Love. Pass it on,” she read the script under the picture.

  Pass it on?

  An idea hit her, and she quickly dressed. She could pass it on. Change Gram’s fate. Charging down the stairs, she pulled on her sweatshirt. Aunt Roselyn sat with Violet at the table.

  “Morning,” Aunt Roselyn said, rubbing circles on her pregnant belly. “How did you sleep?”

  “Awful,” Aster said, grabbing the Bug’s keys from the counter and going straight into the garage. She rifled through the toolbox and grabbed the deck of tarot cards, not bothering to hide them. Tillie watched as Aster opened the car door. Aster returned her stare until the woman stepped back into her apartment.

  “Crazy woman,” Aster muttered under her breath and popped open the door. She didn’t get Tillie. The woman had stopped Josh from hurting her, but still she always gave her that disapproving glare of hers.

  Aunt Roselyn stepped out onto the patio. “Where are you going?”

  “To the hospital.”

  Tillie came back out, balancing on her cane and carrying her purse, her creepy stare on Aster again. The woman belonged in a scary movie.

  She’s definitely crazy if she thinks I’m giving her a ride.

  Aster slammed the door and gunned the Bug down the driveway.

  When she got to Gram’s hospital room, her mom was asleep in a chair beside the bed. The low hum of the ventilator wheezed through the room. Aster slipped the tarot box into the pocket of her sweatshirt. Gram had tubes in her nose and attached to her arm. Her pale face scrunched into a pained expression and then relaxed.

  “Mom,” Aster said, shaking her shoulder.

  Her mom’s eyes fluttered open. “Hey, what time is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Aster shrugged. “Early. I thought you could use a break. Why don’t you go get some coffee and something to eat?”

  Pushing herself up from the chair she said, “I could stretch my legs. You’ll be okay here alone for a little bit?”

  “Yeah, and a long bit, if you need.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.” She patted Aster’s arm and tiptoed out of the room.

  Before sitting down, Aster kissed Gram’s forehead. She remembered the time when she, her mom, and her sisters had first moved into the beach house. Her grandfather had been dead for six months, and Tillie had just moved in. Aster had asked Gram how she could handle all the noise. Gram had said she enjoyed all the commotion. It kept her from thinking about Gramps so much.

  Aster took out the box and removed the cards. Shuffling them, her thoughts shifted to all the summer vacations she had spent with her sisters at the beach house. Staying with Gram and Gramps had been the break the girls needed from their parents’ continual fighting. And Aster wasn’t ready to lose her Gram yet. She was only in her sixties.

  She brought the deck to Gram and placed it under her hand. “Gram?” Aster whispered, and then thought that she’d better say it louder. “Gram?”

  Gram moaned but didn’t open her eyes. Aster feared she wouldn’t wake. She fanned the cards out on Gram’s lap and lifted her right arm. It felt like a chicken wing, skinny and bony.

  “Okay, Gram, whatever card your thumb touches will be your fate.” She let go of her arm. Cards scattered across the blanket. Some fell on the floor, but her thumb had trapped one.

  Even before she removed the card from underneath Gram’s hand, Aster knew which one it would be—the three of swords. The same card the woman drew yesterday morning during the reading. Tears blurred her eyes, and guilt burned her throat. Gram was sick because of her. There was no doubting it now. The card was proof.

  Aster took a deep breath and touched the card, wishing with all her might to heal Gram. Two images of the card shot out and separated from each other, spinning in different directions. She removed her finger and they stopped, briefly, then each spun in the opposite direction than they were before. The images slammed back together and the card landed back on Gram’s lap, reversed.

  “It is you,” a gruff woman’s voice came from the door.

  Aster spun around.

  Hunched over her cane, Tillie surveyed the cards sprawled over Gram’s lap and on the floor. “Hurry.” She hacked into a wadded-up handkerchief. “Pick them up before anyone sees.”

  Someone needs a throat lozenge.

  When Aster didn’t move, Tillie snapped, “Hurry!”

  Aster rushed around, picking up the cards. “How did you get here?” And then she thought of a better question. Why isn’t she freaking over the techno show?

  “Your aunt drove me,” she said, moving into the room, her cane clicking across the floor. “Make sure you don’t touch anything metal. Or touch any person.”

  She knows.

  “Okay,” Aster said.

/>   “How long have you been changing fates?”

  “A month or so. How do you know about fate changing?”

  “What will you do with it?” She ignored Aster’s question.

  “It?”

  “The bad fate you hold.” She sat in the chair beside Gram’s bed. “Whoever receives it will suffer the same illness.”

  “I—” Aster’s voice cracked. She shook her head, overwhelmed with shame. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

  “Good thing I found you.” Tillie held up her wrist. Aster’s eyes grew wide as she eyed Tilly’s faded scar resembling an infinity symbol—the same mark as her own. “We’re connected, you and me, but we shouldn’t discuss this now. Your mother and aunt will be here any minute. Follow my lead, and offer to drive me home.”

  Aster finished picking up the cards and returned them to the box, stuffing them into her pocket. Tillie watched her the entire time, but Aster didn’t feel like the old woman was judging her. There was a softness in Tillie’s gray eyes, something like sadness, something like pity, but it was hard to tell. Whatever it was, Tillie wanted to help her. And suddenly Aster didn’t feel alone in her affliction any longer.

  …

  The entire time Aster had lived at the beach house, she’d never been inside the apartment beside the garage. Tillie’s furniture was about as old as she was, but more stable. The cushions on the couch were hard and musty-smelling.

  Gram had woken before Tillie and Aster left the hospital. She had tried to pull out her tubes, saying she could breathe just fine. Mom and Aunt Roselyn stayed with Gram as they waited for the scheduled tests. Aster had a feeling they wouldn’t find the mass on her lung they’d discovered yesterday.

  Tillie sat a teacup on the coffee table in front of Aster, and then carried hers to a chair across from her, the china rattling against each other with her steps. A cream-colored Victorian hatbox, the top decorated in lace and secured with a taupe-colored satin bow, dominated the tiny table.

  “I’m getting old,” she said, taking a sip of the steaming liquid, her glasses fogging at the bottom rim. “I’m losing my memory. Some days I don’t know who I am. Today is a good day, so we should act now before that fate is released.”