I wish there was a way to get these answers.
“My aunt used to say something to me when I was younger,” he says softly. “She used to say, don’t listen to the voices in your head, listen to the voice in your heart, and you’ll always be okay. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
The voice in my heart has always spoken Blue’s name. Always.
I finger the beaded bracelet on my wrist, just inches away from my ladybug tattoo, and one of my favorite memories plays out in my mind: “There’s a myth that if a man and a woman see a ladybug at the same time, they’ll fall in love.”
“No… I didn’t know that.”
“We just looked at yours at the same time.”
“That doesn’t count. It’s a tattoo. It’s not a real ladybug.”
“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Did that playful conversation seal our fate? Do we ever really know when it happens? That moment where we know, that this person, is our person?
“Can we take it slow?” I ask. “And see how things go?”
“We can try, Ladybug. But I think you know there’s no such thing as slow with us.”
That might be true, but I’m going to do whatever I can to keep everything at a snail’s pace with him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Ooh, we’re going over there,” Ditra says as we walk from our favorite small Italian restaurant to my car.
“Where?” I follow her tipsy gaze. She had a few too many glasses of wine over dinner and I really want to get her home. Her attention is fixated on a run-down Victorian house with a big yellow neon blinking PSYCHIC sign in the window.
I grab her arm and try to pull her toward the car. “Are you crazy?” I laugh. “We’re not going in there. It’s late.”
She tugs me back. “Come on, it’ll be fun! I’ve always wanted to go, just to see what they say. The open sign is lit on the door.”
“She’s going to say ‘ooh I see a man and lots of wine and naps in your future,’ then charge you fifty bucks.”
“So what? It’ll be fun. I’ll pay for both of us.” Hooking my arm in hers, she leads me to the edge of the road and we wait for an opening in the traffic, then skip across the street.
“This place is scary,” I say, peering up at the peeling paint of the house and the crooked green shutters. “They could be running a sex trafficking ring in there and the psychic sign is just a lure.”
“I doubt it. I have a gun in my purse, if anything shifty happens, I’ll pull it out, and you run for help.”
“Great plan. I feel safer already.”
We climb the worn stone stairs, press the glowing amber doorbell, and wait. A few seconds later, an older woman with huge gold hoop earrings, an entire palette of eye shadow, and about ten gold necklaces draped around her neck answers.
“You ladies must be here for a reading,” she says.
I lean closer to Ditra and whisper in her ear. “Wow, she’s got the gift! She knows why we’re here!”
She elbows me in the gut and answers the woman. “Yes, we’d love to have a reading.”
“Come on in.” The woman swings the door open and we enter a dim parlor room. Pictures of tigers line the walls in mismatched frames. They’re all crooked and I want to straighten them all right now. We follow her through a beaded curtain into an adjacent room.
“Please have a seat,” she gestures to two old cloth chairs facing a wooden desk covered in candles, statues, tarot cards, and crystals. Cones of incense are burning on a bookshelf in the corner. Ditra and I sit while the woman lights a bundle of sage before settling into the ripped chair behind the desk. The room smells distinctly like the sweet scent that clings to almost every object in Headlines, one of my favorite local stores to buy silver jewelry and the faerie figurines that Lyric collects.
“My name is Loretta. Would you both like a reading tonight?”
“Yes,” we respond at the same time, but inside I’m wondering, shouldn’t she know the answer to that already?
“Would you like the readings in private, or together?”
Ditra and I glance at each other and then answer in unison. “Together.”
“Very good. My fee is fifty dollars per reading.”
Fifty dollars!
“Do you take credit cards?” Ditra asks, pulling out her wallet.
“I do.”
Ditra hands her a credit card. “I’m going to pay for both of us.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as Loretta runs the card. The mix of burning incense and sage is filling the room with smoke that tickles my nose, putting me in that awkward I-think-I-have-to-sneeze-but-I’m-not-sure mode.
The psychic hands the card back and eyes me as Dee signs her name on the receipt. I’m sure I’m still making a strange sneeze face.
“You’re interested, yet skeptical,” Loretta says.
I nod. “Yes.” Her comment doesn’t mean she’s reading my mind. I’m sure everyone who walks in here is interested and skeptical. Her talents still remain to be proven.
“Let’s see if we can change that,” she says. “Who wants to go first?”
“Me!” Ditra pipes up.
“Give me your hands, love.” Loretta reaches across her cluttered desk to grasp Dee’s hands in hers.
“Do you need my name and birthdate?” Ditra asks.
Loretta smiles. “No, that’s not necessary for a reading.”
We both watch quietly as Loretta rubs her thumbs against Ditra’s palms. The psychic closes her eyes, exposing bright blue and purple-covered eyelids.
“You work with your hands,” Loretta says.
Don’t we all, really? We can’t do much of anything without using our hands.
“I do,” Dee confirms.
“You’ve recently settled down. I see love for the first time.”
“True.”
“I see many changes coming for you. A wedding.”
“Mine?” Ditra practically yells.
Loretta smiles. “Yes. Yours. You will not wear white.”
“There’s a shocker,” I tease, which gets me a quick glare from Loretta.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“A child will be coming into your life. Soon.”
“Nope, not me, sistah,” Ditra says. “We have no plans to have children.”
“I didn’t say it was yours,” Loretta clarifies, and Ditra’s mouth falls open.
“Well then, whose is it?” Ditra asks.
“I cannot say, love. But it will change your life.”
“That’s an understatement. What else do you see? I’m marrying Billy, right?”
“I cannot see names or faces. But if he is your true love, then yes.”
“Good. He is.”
“Someone is watching over you. An older man with dark glasses. He loves you very much.”
“My grandfather!”
Loretta nods. “He says to be patient. Be open with your heart.”
“Oh my God, that is so him!”
“Your sister will need your support soon. You will have to put your feelings aside to be there for her.”
Aha! Fail! Ditra is an only child.
“I don’t have a sister,” Dee says.
Loretta opens her eyes. “She is sitting right next to you. Sisters come in many forms.”
Shit. What the hell will I need support with?
“Wait,” I say. “What’s going to happen to me?”
Dee touches my arm. “We’re sisters. I’ll be there for you no matter what.”
“We will get to you,” Loretta says.
“Let’s do her now! I’m happy with my reading. Thank you so much,” Ditra says, pulling her hands from Loretta’s.
“Give me your hands, love.” Loretta reaches for me, but I’m not sure I want to do this now. My heart is pounding, my palms are clammy, and I still feel stuck in sneeze limbo.
“I don’t know....” I stammer.
Ditra rubs my arm. “Piper, don’t be scared. You’ll be fine.”
Reluctantly, I put my hands in Loretta’s. Warm energy flows up my arms and into my chest.
“You have been waiting a long time,” the psychic says. “For love and happiness.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Ditra exclaims.
“Shhh...” I hush her.
“You have a very warm heart.”
“Thank you.”
“You have been on a journey. Finding yourself. Finding that person you love.”
I nod.
“You have found him, but he has not found himself.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“He is shrouded, his thoughts are not always his own. You must be patient with him.”
“I am. I always have been.”