A Sixer of Tequila Page 3

  “There, done,” Melody said and placed the cards down on the table.

  “Divide them into three piles, please.”

  After she had done that, I stacked the cards and looked at Melody.

  “Your question?”

  “Will I have a baby?” Her eyes were huge in her face, and I glimpsed the deep-rooted sorrow within.

  I lowered my eyes for a moment to focus on the cards. That was the thing about my job: It constantly humbled me. Rich, poor, snotty, asshole, or kind – everyone who came to me was human and had the same basic needs. To be loved, to want children or a better career, or to feel safe in their environment. The questions varied, but the themes were much the same. We all longed for certain things to fulfill us. For Melody? It was to be a mother.

  Focusing my energy, I began to lay out the cards, reading quite easily from her head that she’d suffered seven miscarriages. The stress it had placed on her marriage was threatening to shatter them. Now I had a new reason for the rigidity I had sensed in her – it was sheer stress.

  I truly hoped that whatever I saw would bring her peace, but I never lied to my clients. Going in, I closed my eyes, ignoring my cards for a moment to just rely on my psychic intuition. To be honest, I was expecting the worst, so I was pleasantly surprised to see a much more relaxed and happy-looking Melody bouncing a chubby baby boy on her knee. She looked good, with some weight from her pregnancy on her and a real smile on her face. Turning to the cards, I read the spread while Melody sat, fingers clutched tightly in her lap, her eyes sheened with tears.

  “There,” I said, pointing to the outcome card of my spread.

  “A sun?” Melody peered at the card I had tapped.

  “This is the outcome card of the spread. I’ll read you the rest of your cards, but because I can see how much this means to you, I want you to know that the Sun card is a great outcome card for you. It means I do see you having a child in the future.”

  “Seriously? You can see that? You’re not just saying that so I tip you?” Melody said, tears over spilling onto her cheeks, making tracks through her makeup.

  “Yes, I can see that. Listen, I don’t tell people what they want to hear. Sometimes I see spreads that look all rosy and good, then I come to the outcome card and it’s bad. Which means life will throw you a curveball and you’ll have to weather that storm. And I do not shield a client from that, because they should be prepared. But this spread? With this outcome card? Yes, I do see you having a very happy outcome.” I reached over the table and squeezed her hand. “Be at peace, Melody. Your happiness is on its way.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed, pulling a pressed cotton handkerchief from her purse. Who even used real handkerchiefs anymore? I briefly wondered. “I needed to hear this.”

  “I’m glad I could help,” I said, and took the rest of the appointment to go over the rest of the card spread with her. As she left, after leaving a healthy tip, she paused at the door.

  “Thank you again for your help, and for being kind with my grief. I don’t know what everyone is talking about – you’re not all that bad.”

  She was gone before I could respond, and I sat there with my mouth open. It was only when I heard Luna laughing at the door that I looked up.

  “I swear to goddess, Luna, I try so hard with these people and they drop these bombs so casually, like I should be grateful for their approval.”

  “You did good there, Althea. Even if she didn’t realize how bitchy she was being at the end.”

  “Thank goddess that’s my last appointment for the day. I’m about done hearing about this stolen flamingo.”

  “When’s her baby coming?”

  “Not long now. A boy.”

  “I’ll put together a little gift from our shop, just so she remembers who gave her hope.” Luna, ever a nicer person than I, was already making a note in her planner.

  My phone rang before I could respond, and I checked it to see Miss Elva on the display.

  “Miss Elva,” I answered, putting her on video so she could see Luna was in the shop with me as well.

  “Hi, lovely ladies, how was your workday?” Miss Elva asked, her whole face filling the screen. She hadn’t quite worked out the right distance to hold her phone at yet.

  “Saving lives left and right,” I grumbled.

  “It was another great day,” Luna amended, smiling over my shoulder at Miss Elva.

  “Good. Althea, you can tell me about it over dinner. We’re going out with David and his son.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we. Pick me up at seven. We’re going to Beau’s new place and Beau’s promised us a nice table.”

  “Is Luna coming?”

  “No, she has a boyfriend.” Miss Elva rolled her eyes like I should know better.

  “And I don’t?”

  “Oh, are we calling him your boyfriend now? Seems to me you’ve been holding him at arm’s length on that for a while.”

  “I’m not… it’s just…” I ran a hand through my hair and tugged a curl in frustration. “Listen, I’m involved with Trace, as you well know.”

  “Maybe, but you’re less involved than Luna. Plus, everyone falls in love with Luna, so bringing her on a double date is pointless when she’s in love with Mathias.”

  Luna chuckled softly over my shoulder but made no comment.

  “Now, how do you think Trace would feel about me going out on a double date when he just left town?”

  “I think there’s either trust in a relationship or there isn’t.”

  Hmpf.

  “I don’t think I’d be happy with him going on a double date.”

  “Well, stop calling it a double date then. You’re just my chaperone. I mean, I know I’m more than enough personality for two men, but if I want to really decide whether I like the Flamingo King, I need to focus my energies on him, get what I’m saying?”

  “So why don’t you leave the son at home?”

  “Althea Rose, I am asking you for a favor. You gonna make me call this man up and tell him to leave his son at home when he’s already nicely asked me out on a date? How rude would I be?”

  I bit my tongue, considering for a moment how much I really did not want to go to this dinner, but also how Miss Elva and I had hit a rough patch lately. It was time for me to step up and be a good friend to her.

  “Fine, I will chaperone you to dinner. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Perfect. Wear something flattering. Not that dress.”

  “I…” What was wrong with my dress? I looked down at my purple maxi with bright white lilies smattered across it. Looking back at the phone, I saw that Miss Elva had already disconnected.

  Luna shrugged. “It does have a bit of an eighties vibe.”

  “What’s wrong with the eighties? It’s coming back in style,” I called after Luna as she left my shop, pulling the screen closed behind her.

  “Not if you’ve had it since the eighties,” Luna called back.

  Chapter Five

  “Not that one.”

  I was standing in front of my closet examining my collection of maxi-dresses. I suppose I had gotten in a bit of rut, as they were my go-to choice for living in humidity so thick it made you dream of moving to the arctic. Plus, people expected a tarot card reader to wear flowy caftans and robes and the like. I found that in my business, it was best to play to stereotypes. Years ago, I’d gotten in a tizzy about changing my shop to make it more elegant and soothing, like a fancy doctor’s office. Clients hated it, and business had slowed. I quickly changed it back, decorating with a heavy nod to the psychic world – filling the space with draped velvets, tchotchkes and statues from all over, rows of books on the psychic realm, and even a fake skeleton in the corner, whose t-shirts I routinely changed. This month he was sporting a faded Grateful Dead t-shirt, a nod to my father and to my name. I still wasn’t sure if I was named for the song or the actual rose bush.

  “What’s wrong with this one?” I demanded, turning to glar
e at Rosita. The dress in question was new, a brilliant deep blue with turquoise beading at the neckline.

  “You need to showcase your assets if you want a man. You have considerable assets. Use them,” Rosita shrugged, rolling her eyes as if it was obvious for even a simpleton like me. Hank rolled over on the bed, smiling his doggy-drool smile up at Rosita. She floated over him, cooing away.

  “My assets, as you say, are already being showcased. To one man. Trace. You met him, remember?” I pulled the maxi-dress over my head anyway, because I liked it and it made me feel good. Which was more than enough to wear on a non-date where I wasn’t interested in luring a man.

  “Yes, he is very attractive. But you don’t claim him, so, I think maybe you want another man, yes?”

  “I don’t need another man, Rosita. One is enough.”

  “Is it? Shocking.” Rosita looked genuinely stunned and I had to remind myself of the life she had lived.

  “For me, yes. I don’t have time to juggle more than one man, Rosita.”

  “You don’t juggle them, you use them at the same time,” Rosita, ever so helpful, explained as she drifted after me to the bedroom.

  “I…” Stopping to consider the idea while I put mascara on, I realized I couldn’t fault her wisdom. “Yes, I suppose more than one man at once would be an efficient use of time management.”

  “See? You’re learning.”

  “But for now, I’m happy with just the one, thank you.”

  “Your loss.” Rosita followed me as I went downstairs and opened the door so Hank could have his nightly run-about before dinner.

  “Are you coming to dinner or will you stay here?”

  “Will Rafe be there?”

  “I have no idea. He seems to get very angry when Miss Elva goes on dates, so I’m not sure he’ll stick around to watch.”

  “Achhh, then, no. What’s the point? I take great joy in seeing his feathers all ruffled. If he stays behind then I just sit and watch you look awkward.”

  “I am not awkward.” I rounded the corner of my kitchen counter, knocking an apple from the fruit bowl in the process. It bounced to the floor and rolled to a stop below Rosita.

  “Right.”

  “Oh come on, that was an accident. Hank! Come in! Dinner!” An ecstatic Hank barreled through the door, startling Rosita and sending the apple spinning across the floor. He barely stopped before his face was in his food bowl, and his little bum danced as he wiggled his way through dinner, always delighted with his meal. I didn’t blame him; I often found myself dancing in my seat when my dinner was served too. Good food should be celebrated.

  “I like your photos.” Rosita startled me from smiling down at Hank, lost in my thoughts. Turning, I found her flitting around the underwater photographs that lined my walls. “We didn’t have photography like this in my time. It was only paintings and drawings. You’ve given me a way to see the underwater world. It’s really beautiful.”

  Touched, I leaned against the counter and studied Rosita. For all of her sharp edges, she had a romantic’s heart. Well, soul, I supposed. As she no longer had a heart.

  “I guess I never thought about that, Rosita. Yes, I really love being underwater and taking photographs of what I see there. It’s like an entirely different world. You can lose yourself in the beauty of what the ocean showcases.”

  “I’d like to see it sometime. Do you think you could take me?”

  “I… honestly I have no idea, Rosita. Do you know if you can go underwater as a spirit? Have you tried? This is fascinating, now that I think about it. You don’t have to breathe, so you wouldn’t need tanks. I feel like you’d just be able to zip beneath the surface and see what’s what.”

  “Likely, but I’m… Well, it’s quite silly, really. But I’m scared.” Rosita shrugged a shoulder and looked away, leaving my mouth gaping in shock for a second before I snapped it closed.

  “Scared? After all you’ve seen and done? Even having been dead and in the spirit world? Why on earth would you be scared?”

  “I don’t know how to swim,” Rosita admitted.

  “But…” I wondered briefly if knowing how to swim even needed to translate into the spirit world since they could walk through walls and crazy shit like that. But then I reminded myself of something I had learned with clients a long time ago.

  Feelings aren’t rational.

  Fear is fear, and if that was what she was afraid of, then I would be happy to help her.

  “If I held your hand on a dive, would that help?” Again, no idea how I’d hold a ghost’s hand, but hey – in for a penny, in for a pound.

  “Yes, I think it would. Thank you, Althea. No matter what people say, you’re a good sort,” Rosita said as she drifted across the room to look at my photograph of eagle rays.

  “Why do people keep saying that to me?” I looked down at Hank who grinned up at me, ever my champion, and I bent to give him a pat. Opening his drawer, I pulled out today’s toy – a rubber duck – and launched it across the room where he chased it in delight.

  “Ah, men and their toys.” Rosita looked down at him in adoration. “Some things never change.”

  Chapter Six

  “I see you ignored my advice,” Miss Elva sniffed as she opened the door to my Mini coupe.

  “What’s wrong with this dress? Rosita didn’t care for it either.”

  “It looks basic.”

  “You’re saying I’m a basic bitch?” I raised an eyebrow at her, and Miss Elva just raised hers back at me. Though, in all fairness, I think anyone would look basic next to Miss Elva’s resplendence. Tonight she’d pulled out a shimmery rose-gold caftan, and had woven a delicate, glittery crown of leaves through her hair. She looked like an Amazon warrior goddess, and me her lowly servant.

  “Do I really need to say it?” Miss Elva sighed once more and gathered her skirt to sit in the front seat. Looking around, I spied no trace of Rafe.

  “Well, when your line becomes available, I’ll be sure to purchase a few pieces so as not to embarrass you in public. Where’s Rafe?”

  “He refuses to come watch me philander with other men. Can you believe that? He needs to get his head on straight. I’ve made it very clear that I am an independent woman and though I do love my sweet Rafeboo, a woman needs the pleasures of the flesh, if you get what I’m saying.”

  “I get it, I get it,” I said hurriedly, doing my best to pull my mind away from images of Miss Elva’s flesh and – yup, too late. Sighing, I shook my head. “Rosita stayed at home as well. She only wanted to come if she could see Rafe in a snit.”

  “Those two… like children, I tell you.”

  “Tell me about this Flamingo King and son. I thought you’d only just met him.”

  “Well, I did, honeychild. On a dating app, of all things.”

  I stored that tidbit away to examine another day. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know what Miss Elva’s dating app lineup looked like.

  “I didn’t know you were using dating apps.”

  “It’s a new thing I’m trying. It’s kind of fun, like ordering from the takeout menu.”

  Again, trying to keep images of Miss Elva and sex out of my head was proving fruitless.

  “Okay, so you met this king on there? If he’s the king, why is he on an app?”

  “Well, love, I consider myself a queen and I’m on there. It’s lonely at the top, don’t you know.”

  It was hard to argue with that logic.

  “Do I call him Flamingo King, or does he have a name?” I turned the car down Tequila Key’s main drag, where tourist shops mashed together with our local hardware stores and coffeeshops.

  “His name is David and his son is named Randall. They were here to bring some flamingos over for the mini-golf course.”

  “That seems like something they could have their delivery guys do, no?”

  “I think they just wanted to get off-island. David says it’s nice to live where he does, but he misses the convenience of shopping
at certain stores, or even just trying out new restaurants.”

  I wanted to point out that Tequila Key wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis with huge stores like Costco or Target, but we’d arrived at the restaurant. Two men stood by the door, the Flamingo King and prince, I assumed, based on the older one’s flaming pink shirt and orangey-tan skin.

  “There they are! The one in the pink is David. Isn’t he a doll? Okay, make nice at the table, Althea. I think I could have something serious with this one.”

  Love is blind, I reminded myself.

  I found a lucky spot on the street not far from the restaurant. The men waited as we approached, and I took the time to size them both up. David, the tanned older gentleman, had a mile-wide grin on his face and no hair to speak of. He wore a rattan hat with a wide pink band, and his nicely pressed pants were dotted with tiny flamingos. None of those things should have worked together, but somehow he managed to pull it off. I was beginning to see his appeal for Miss Elva, who was equally as loud and original. It was like watching two parrots greet each other, both squawking in delight as the rest of us stood by, dazzled by the color show. Randall, the son, was a quietly muted version of his father in simple linen pants and the palest of pink button-downs, his brown hair slicked with gel. He smiled kindly at me.

  “I think I can see the attraction,” Randall whispered and despite myself, I laughed.

  “I feel like I need to wear sunglasses,” I admitted, holding out my hand to introduce myself. “I’m Althea, by the way.”

  “Randall. Nice to meet you. I know you were expecting a date, but I’ll be honest with you – I am somewhat seeing someone, which I was clear with my father about.”

  “Phew, that makes my night much easier as I am also somewhat involved with someone,” I smiled at him more broadly this time, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders.

  “Even better. Then we’ll have a nice evening chaperoning these two with no expectations other than friends,” Randall said, then turned to introduce me to his father. Before I could respond I was engulfed in a flaming pink hug, and almost stumbled back from the exuberance of the Flamingo King.