They had nothing to say to each other.
She told him the cards spoke for her. For him as well.
His reluctance to be spoken for was where their problems started, why she turned to tarot. She would find someone or something to tell her what she wanted to hear.
“We need to talk about this,” he said.
“Yes, we do,” she said and picked up the cards.
“I think you misunderstood something I said or did. I thought I was clear about what I wanted.” She began shuffling.
“No. Don’t look at those. Listen to me.” He moved to take the cards from her but she kept her grip, calmly moving them from one hand to the other, a quiet, stubborn game of keep away.
“I’ll do me first,” she said. “Past, present and future.” She laid down the first card and studied it.
“Alice. Please.”
“The Priestess in the past position. The feminine, artistic, creative force. A woman who appears removed emotionally and who is a law unto herself. Self-reliance. Can appear cold to those who live for relationships or misguided to those who serve money.” She sucked in her cheeks, looking at the card like it had betrayed her confidence, told her secrets.
“This isn’t healthy for either of us,” he continued.
“Temperance in the present position. Healing, balance, reflection and patience. Having clear boundaries. A confident and outspoken survivor. A period of waiting and constructive use of time.” This card pleased her, eliciting a small smile, tight lipped as if to contain the feathers of an eaten canary.
“I told you that if you moved here, it should be because you wanted to. Wanted to for you, not for me.” She tapped the third card against her chin, waiting to put it down.
“Two of Wands in the future position. Foresight. Viewing a situation from a higher perspective. Weighing of options. Anticipating obstacles and uncertainty.”
She raised her eyes to his and held them there: a challenge. A dam holding back hundreds of thousands of gallons of water. If he spoke again, cracks would begin to form, concrete would crumble, open, unzip, fall apart, just before the water came rushing at him, knocking him down, dragging him along what would soon become the bottom of a river, the ocean. He would ride a rip tide right out to sea.
He opened his mouth and took a breath.
