“It can mean true love is coming. That’s what I would tell you if I were making a living as a fortune-teller. But it can also mean that happiness of other kinds is coming. Actually, there’s lots of interpretation to it. A good fortune-teller reads the customer more than the tea leaves. If you were a young single girl, I’d certainly tell you you were about to find true love. If you were an older married person, I’d probably tell you something you’ve been hoping for was about to bring you happiness.”
“What would you say about that little blob on the bottom?”
“Well, what would you say it looks like?”
“Maybe a pencil? Or a snake?”
“I probably wouldn’t say snake. Snakes might mean there is someone who does not deserve your trust. I’d probably call it a cigar, and would tell you to expect a new friend. Now, my grandmother would weave all this into a cohesive story that would convince you that love, happiness and prosperity were coming your way. Or, someone else might interpret everything quite differently, and then try to sell you a love potion or to offer to remove a curse from your money to change your fortune. A lot would ride on whether the fortune-teller was honest or just trying to drum up some business from you. It’s like reading your astrology in the newspaper. Many people, no matter if you read them something from the wrong sign, would be quick to agree that the description fit them to a T. If you deal in vague generalities, you can always be right.”
“Interesting. I had no idea there was so much to it. Did your grandmother believe in it?”
"She did. She was also a shrewd judge of character, however. If you had her tell your fortune, you’d get from the experience much of what you might get from visiting a therapist for help finding your life path. Just having someone pay close attention to you and offer an encouraging view of your life can do wonders for motivating someone look on the positive side of life.”
“How did you end up doing upholstery rather than telling fortunes?”
“Well, for one thing, I’m a modern Romany girl, and my parents were fairly modern, for that matter. At least, my father was. He started this shop decades ago, and my parents sent me off to college to study art. I probably would have made more money reading palms and tea leaves than I would have as an artist, though. So when my father retired, I decided to take over the business. It’s not a bad way to make a living, and it satisfies some of my artistic impulses. And, it allows me to stay independent. I’m not sure I’d do well working for anyone else.” She paused. “So that’s my story. What’s yours?"
“Well, it’s pretty bland in comparison. My dad went back to school and became an accountant. I lived a boring middle class suburban life. I majored in accounting but found it dull and a few weeks ago I bought a little place down the block. Used to be a barber shop? Jim’s?"”
“Oh, yes, that place has been closed for years. My father went there, back in the day.”
“I’m remodeling it and plan to open a little ice cream shop.”
“Oh, that’s great! This downtown needs new life. An ice cream shop would be wonderful, but it seems a terrible risk, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely. I’d definitely advise anyone against such a move. But nevertheless, I’m doing it. I’ll probably lose my ass and have to redouble my efforts in accounting. I’m keeping one hand in that, for now, anyway, just to be safe. But there you go. I’m a bit of a dreamer, I’m afraid.”
“I would never advise anyone to ignore their dreams,” Catarina said. She stood. “My dream of finishing your mother’s sofa this week will not come true if I don’t get back to it, though. But I’ve enjoyed talking to you. Stop in anytime. You can check my progress on your sofa.”
Remy also slid off the work table and stood up. “I’ll do that. I’m just at the end of the block. If you need to take a break, stop in. You can give me your opinion on the design of the place.”
“I will definitely do that,” Catarina said.
He reached out his hand and she took it, feeling again an electric shock as they touched.
“Sorry! I think I picked up some static electricity,” he said. She quickly agreed that must be it, but she knew her grandmother would have a different explanation, and she thought again of the flower in his tea cup. Close to the rim. Her grandmother, she knew, would have told him he was about to fall in love.
∞∞∞
Kiss & Tell (Small-Town Secrets-Fairview Series Book 2) Page 21