Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(60)

I groaned. “Not you, too.”

“Listen, I’m not gonna lie, I want your mom to read my cards real bad,” Val said.

“Reading tarot is more about cues from the person you’re reading for and finding connections where there are none. There’s nothing mystical about it,” I countered.

“Couldn’t you say that it’s about reflection?” Rin asked. “You read the cards and see what you want to see, and that helps you frame up your current state rather than thinking about them actually telling the future.”

I frowned. “I dislike that implication. It’s not therapy. It’s a deck of cards.”

Val shrugged. “It’s fun is what it is. The older we get, the less magic there is in the world. Like, remember how Christmas used to be so full of magic?”

“We celebrated the solstice,” I said.

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy.” Val’s gaze swept the ceiling.

“So you’re telling me it’s better to be lied to as a child and find out that Santa was just a cruel story to make you behave and that your parents were the gift-bringers the whole time? That they fooled you all those years? You’d rather believe a lie than know the truth?” I pressed.

“If it’s for a good cause, I don’t see why not,” Val said.

“And that’s the difference between us,” I said. “I don’t want to be emotionally manipulated by a lie. I want the truth, no matter what. I don’t want to believe in something that isn’t founded in fact. When the truth comes around, all the lies have to run and hide.”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Deepak?”

“Ice Cube.”

A laugh burst out of Val. “Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.”

“Tupac,” I said.

“Life without knowledge is death in disguise,” Val challenged.

That one I really had to think about. “Talib Kweli.”

“I drop science like girls be dropping babies,” Rin rapped.

“Ol’ Dirty Bastard,” I said on a laugh.

“Aren’t there some things that can’t be backed up in fact?” Amelia asked. “Like a gut reaction to something, something unexplained?”

My insides flinched. “Like love?” The question was pointed, almost accusatory.

“Sure.”

“You know I don’t believe in that.”

“But you love us,” Amelia argued.

“That feeling is built on years of you showing up and proving your loyalty. It’s built on trust and mutual respect. Yes, I love you. But that word doesn’t imply something that can’t be explained. I could make you a graph if it would help.”

“And how about Theo? Think you could love him?” It was as sly as Amelia ever got to ask me a question with a segue like that.

My lips flattened. “I care for Theodore very much.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Well, it’s the best answer I have. Love isn’t any more mystical than my mother’s tarot cards.”

“Fair enough,” Val said. “But who’s to say you won’t love Theo like you love us? A relationship based on trust and respect?”

“Because I can’t use that word in relation to a man. The implication is too much to stomach.”

“What implication?” Val asked.

“That it will equate to marriage, which is a construct I refuse to subscribe to.”

Amelia pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ve met my parents.”

“I think they’re sweet,” she said.

“Sweet? They’ve been married and divorced more times than Elizabeth Taylor. Except to each other. They even lived together when they were divorced. Anarchists.”

“They’re nonconformists, which means they’re not without rules. They just have their own set of rules,” Val said.

“Well, their rules make no sense, and I need my rules to make sense. Why get married if you don’t think you’re going to stay together? What’s the point?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Rin said. “But they’re happy, aren’t they? Isn’t that the point?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. It’s nonsensical. I thought for a second that things might be different with Theo and me. That maybe I’d found what you guys have.”

“Love?” Amelia asked hopefully.

“God, no. But that partnership, the meeting of my match. And really, I have, just not in the fairy tale way. In the practical way. That’s the one good thing about my mom showing up. She reminded me of my rules and set me straight. Really, I should thank her.”

Now, Amelia was pouting.

“I care for Theo, and I think he will continue to be the perfect partner. But love? Love is no more real than mood rings, and marriage is a trap that ends in divorce.”

Amelia frowned, thumbing her wedding band. “I don’t think that at all.”

I softened, reaching for her hand. “You and Tommy…you’re different. You love each other so much, you’re getting married again in a few weeks, just because once wasn’t enough.”

“And the first time, it was fake,” she added pointedly.