The Fortune Teller(59)

Semele let out a deep breath. There. I said it.

Macy’s eyes widened and she sat forward with excitement. She knew Semele had had premonitions when she was younger—and that they’d all come true. She was the only person Semele had confided in.

As a child Semele had been incredibly intuitive, always knowing things before they happened. Helen brushed it off, and her father would just laugh until Semele felt silly for even telling him. So she began to keep her foresights a secret. Only Macy knew her struggle.

The turning point had come the summer she was twelve, when she had a vision of one of her classmates drowning. She never told anyone, not even Macy, and convinced herself the dream couldn’t come true. But the girl had died, and Semele always wondered what would have happened if she had said something, warned her. Maybe she could have saved her life. Semele carried that guilt for years, and over time, trained herself not to remember her dreams. Eventually they stopped.

As she got older she continued to experience déjà vu—the kind that rained down and flooded a moment, like she was actually reliving it again. She told herself everyone had these experiences, and then she started to ignore the sensation until she no longer experienced this either.

Now her talent seemed to be resurfacing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Macy asked gently. She knew how Semele had shunned her abilities as a child, how much she had tried to bury her visions. Macy was the complete opposite, the kind of person who embraced intuition and strived to stay in tune. She saw synchronicity in everything and “The Universe” was always talking to her, which was why Semele felt able to open up to her in the first place. Never once had Macy thought Semele was crazy. “I’m always here. You know that.”

“I know, thanks.” Semele gave her a faint smile.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Macy said. “I have a present for you.”

She ran to get her purse and came back with a heavy object that she plunked in Semele’s hand.

Semele looked down at the smooth rock and laughed. “Um, thank you?” Then she turned it over and saw the beautiful mandala painted on the front. “Oh, Macy.” She gasped. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s called a dream stone. You’re supposed to keep it on your nightstand for good dreams.” She waved a hand in the air. “I saw it in a boutique and thought of you.”

Semele smiled, touched. Macy was her oldest friend. Semele had been maid of honor at her wedding, had thrown her baby shower, and had been at the hospital for Forester’s birth. Of course Macy was here tonight, helping her get through this. Helen hadn’t asked Macy over for her sake—she had asked her for Semele’s. Her mother had known how hard this would be.

*

They said their good-byes outside. Helen helped buckle Forester into his car seat. Macy hugged Semele and whispered, “Talk to her. She misses you.”

Semele nodded and hugged her back. “Thanks for coming.” She stood on the curb with her mother and watched Macy and Forester drive off.

Semele was about to head inside when she glanced across the street. Her heart did a double flip.

The black BMW turned on its headlights and the car took off.

Semele could tell the driver was a man. She tried to convince herself the car was a neighbor’s. But it was him. She was sure.

She didn’t know what to do. If she told her mother what was going on, Helen would become hysterical and never let Semele go back to New York.

“Come on, Mom. Let’s go in.”

She quickly led her mother back into the house and double-checked to make sure all the doors and windows were locked.

“I’m setting the alarm,” she announced. She tried to tell herself that, if the man was planning to do anything, he would have already made a move.

*

Helen watched her, unsure of what to say. Unspoken apologies hung in the air as they cleared away the remaining dishes. Neither could muster the strength to push past the silence so they could meet each other in the middle.

After they were done in the kitchen Semele headed upstairs. “I think I’ll go to bed.”

“All right, darling. Good night.” Helen sounded hesitant but said nothing more.

On the way up the stairs, Semele walked past the large portrait of her mother’s family tree. Helen’s aunt had commissioned the project when Helen was a young girl and given a print to each of her children, nieces, and nephews as a wedding gift, adding their spouses’ names. Semele always loved to find her mother’s and father’s names together side by side.

The framed chart made her Semele Cavnow, and it was a stark reminder that her own family tree was missing.





Eight of Cups

Semele placed Macy’s dream stone on the nightstand and looked around her old bedroom. At some point she really did need to go through everything. Her parents had kept all her things from childhood. She stared at the family pictures, mementoes, and treasured books on the shelves. These walls held the girl she once was, all her hopes and fears. Love filled this room.

She found a pair of pajamas from high school in the dresser. The pants fit like weird capris and the top was now a mid-rise, but they would do. She turned off the light and snuggled under the comforter. As she lay in the dark she debated whether or not to read more of the manuscript. But her eyes were heavy with exhaustion.