Do Not Disturb(42)

Then a few months ago, Nick bought the two houses next door. One for us to live in and the other to turn into a motel.

So we’re going to buy a house together? I said when he told me his plans. That sounds pretty serious. We’re not even married.

Well, we should probably do something about that, he said.

The bastard had a ring in his pocket. I said yes. Obviously. I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.

We’re getting married next month. It will be a small ceremony at City Hall—just close family. Mostly because all of our money has been sunk into the restaurant and the new motel. And also, neither of us have big families. Plus, my parents don’t like Nick. My mother is never clear about why, but she always hints that I could do better, and she doesn’t think much of our restaurant either. That’s why I don’t speak to her much anymore. I’m not even sure she’s coming to the wedding.

“I’ll let the cotton candy idea percolate,” Nick says. “In the meantime, what do you want to ride next? Should we ride that one that turns you around in a circle in the air and then upside down?”

I look at the ride he’s pointing to. Just the sight of it makes my stomach turn. “No, thank you. How about…” I look over at a little black tent with the sign on the front with painted black lettering that reads, Fortunetelling, three tickets. “Ooh, I want to get my fortune told!”

Nick snorts. “You don’t need to go to a fortuneteller to know your fortune. I can tell it to you right now.” He presses his fingertips into his temples. “The future is saying you’re going to marry a super handsome business genius, and then you’re going to have five kids together.”

“Hmm. Are you sure the future is saying five kids? Because I’m kind of feeling like it might be three.”

“Pretty sure it’s five.”

We have always talked about having kids in an abstract sort of way, but now that we’re actually getting married, these talks have become a little more serious. We both want a lot of kids. We’re both only children, and we’ve always wanted big families. But five seems like an awful lot. And he’s not the one who has to push them out.

“See,” I say, “this is why I need to talk to the fortuneteller. And in the meantime, you can try to win me a decent prize this time.”

Earlier in the day, Nick played a game where he had to knock down bottles with a ball. He did spectacularly badly and insisted the game was rigged. Anyway, he won me a tiny rubber duck, which wasn’t really worth carrying around, so I tossed it.

Nick salutes. “You got it. I’m winning you a stuffed animal so big, one of us will have to ride on top of the hood on the way home.”

That remains to be seen.

While Nick goes to find his game of choice, I walk toward the black tent. I’ve never had my fortune told before, but it always seemed like fun. I don’t believe in stuff like that, but there’s no harm in it.

The curtains of the tent are slightly parted, and I push them aside with my hand and peek my head in. The tent is lit by only a few candles, but it’s enough to see the contents. There’s a small wooden table inside, and a folding chair on either side of it. On one of the two chairs sits a woman with long black hair. And by black, I mean black. I’ve heard black described as the absence of color, but I never understood that description until I saw this woman’s hair.

She raises her eyes to look at me, and they’re just as black as her hair. So black that I could not possibly see her pupils. “Hello,” she says.

“Hi.” My voice cracks unexpectedly and I clear my throat. “You do… fortunetelling?”

She nods and gestures at the folding chair across from her. “Please have a seat.”

I hand over my three tickets, which she stuffs into the purple robe she’s wearing. I study her features, partially obscured by the shadows. I can’t tell how old she is. She could be twenty or she could be sixty. It’s so strange.

“My name is Naomi,” she says.

“I’m Rosalie.”

“That’s a pretty name.” Her black eyes flit down to my left hand. “And that’s a pretty ring.”

I squeeze my left hand into a fist subconsciously. The diamond is tiny—all we could afford—but I love it. “Yes. Thank you.”

“He is a good man.” She says it like it isn’t a question. “At least, you believe he is a good man.”

“He is,” I say, with fierce loyalty.

Something almost resembling a smile touches Naomi’s lips. “We shall see.”

She picks up a deck of Tarot cards. I’ve seen Tarot cards before, but I’ve never had my fortune read before. I know the whole thing is silly, but my stomach churns. I wish I had stayed outside and cheered Nick on while he won me another prize (or failed to win me another prize).

She lays three cards out on the table. She stares down at the cards for a moment, her fingers lingering on the middle card, which is a tower on fire after being struck by lightning, with two men hurling downward to their death. I know nothing about Tarot cards, but this doesn’t look good.

“What?” I say.

“This is The Tower,” she says. “It means you will have a life altering revelation. One that will leave you blindsided.”