Page 19 of A Love Like Christmas Time
“Okay. Thank you.” I don’t dare raise my voice above a whisper. As I blow on the hot liquid to cool it, I watch her over the rim of the mug. Her eyebrows furrow in focus, gaze fixed on the moving cards in her hands.
Nic doesn’t believe in tarot. Even though she was quick to accept that she had a ghost cat haunting her house. One moment it was ‘Huh, why are my picture frames sliding off the walls?’ and the next moment she was already scolding us for not believing that she was haunted by Chaos.
Kind of hypocritical if you ask me.
Amanda has given me a card reading twice before. The first one was a week after we helped her organize the store, and I wanted to know if moving to Wayward Hollow was truly a good idea. The answer was an enthusiastic ‘yes.’
From the second reading, I hoped to get some answers about whether I’d find happiness. It was a broad question, and the answers I received were equally broad. I’m not even sure if the consensus was a ‘yes, you will’ or ‘no, you’ll stay miserable.’
But neither of those times has she been this focused, or seemed as low-key worried, as she does now.
“Relationships,” she whispers absentmindedly, before shuffling her cards. “You know the drill.” She puts them down in a neat stack, then fans them out across the table. “Pick your cards, Lauren, and I have a gut feeling you should keep a question about the future of your relationships in your mind as you do.”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath.Relationships. Is there even one in my future? I pick the first card, pulling it out of the fanned-out stack with my fingertip, then turn it around.
It shows a golden wheel over a sky-blue background and surrounded by clouds. Symbols I can’t decipher line its outer edge.
“The Wheel of Fortune,” Amanda whispers, nodding slowly. “As I thought.” Her eyes dart to me. “Changes are upon you,” she whispers, and I gasp when one of the candles suddenly flickers in the corner. “The universe has a plan for you, but you have to work with it.” Her eyes jump to me. “Draw the next card.”
I reach for a random card and pull it out of the stack and turn it over. My heart is beating in my throat. The silence is suddenly unsettling. Each flicker of the flames sends shivers of unease down my spine.
“The Hanged Man,” I read out the letters on the bottom of the card. It shows a figure hanging upside down off of one leg from a wooden, T-shaped crossbeam. The free leg is angled, giving him the shape of a four. “That doesn’t seem cheerful.”
“Life rarely is,” Amanda says in a low voice and slides the card next to the first. “This isn’t a card of punishment, Lauren, rest assured. It’s a card of pause. Of surrender. The world turns upside down, letting you finally see what was always there.” She fixes me with kind eyes and a reassuring smile. “The ties you nurture can quietly strangle the light you carry.”
She motions to the stack, and I turn over the final card.
“Oh, I’m liking that one,” I whisper, but Amanda’s face remains stoic. “Wait. Is it bad?”
“It’s not bad.” Softly, she shakes her head. Her voice softens, almost a whisper, but every word hangs in the air. “This is the card of choice, but not in the way you think. Upright, this card means union, alignment, harmony. Reversed… it asks you to face the truth that sometimes, love is tangled. Conflicted. Bound by fear or old wounds that won’t heal without scars.”
I reach for my cup, the porcelain of it clinking against the saucer as I lift it with trembling fingers to take a sip of the now lukewarm tea. Of course, it would have been too easy had the card been upright, I guess.
“So… what does that mean?” I ask her, gingerly setting the cup down again. “This sounds similar to one of those Korean movies where everyone stares meaningfully at each other for two hours, and at the end you’re supposed to feel enlightened, but really you just want popcorn.”
She looks at me. Calm, collected and with an unreadable poker face.
“The cards remind you that life and love are never simple.” She reaches for my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “The past, the pain, the choices — they’re all here. But the way forward is yours to shape.”
I try to make sense of her words. What I’m taking away is, the universe has a plan for me, yet I have to guess what it is as I make my own decisions?
“Be patient and honest with yourself.” She lets go of my hand.
“You’re basically telling me to do the opposite of everything I normally do. No pressure.” I pout. Does that mean I’m supposed to sit around and wait for the universe to reveal what its plan for me is, yet I’m also to let my decisions shape my future? That sounds pretty contradictory.
“The cards are only guidance, not a manual to your future. I think that’s all I have for you today,” Amanda answers, and her eyes dart to me. Her stoic face changes into a gentle smile within the blink of an eye, like a veil has suddenly lifted off her and now she’s back in reality. “Are you alright?”
My thoughts are running a hundred miles a minute, and the flickering candlelight is still giving me the creeps - but I nod.
“Sure,” I try to say, but it comes out as a squeak.
“Great! Let’s get started for the day. I got a few new vinyl’s that the two of us need to catalog today.”
“Of course,” I say, and get up, sticking out my tongue at the disapproving faces on the wall for good measure.
Yet my thoughts are anywhere but on the Rolling Stones vinyl she puts in front of me. I go through the motions, typing the names into a chart and taking pictures, while my thoughts are still stuck with Amanda’s words.
‘Letting me see what was always there.’
