Fortune, page 9
“The tower,” she says.
“Yes. The tower.”
“I need to talk to Aunt Melanie.”
“Do you want me to call her?”
“It’s after midnight, Brendan. No, I don’t want you to call her. I already talked to her earlier this evening when we brought my dad in. I was freaking out a bit.” She wrinkles her nose. “Okay, make that a lot.”
“A panic attack isn’t anything to be concerned about,” I say. “You heard the doctor. A lot of people have them.”
“I don’t know. They drugged my dad pretty well earlier.”
“They did, but your dad’s symptoms were a lot worse than yours.”
“True.”
I hand her the remote control. “Do you want to watch some TV while we wait?”
“No, I think I just want to close my eyes. I don’t want any drugs, but part of me wishes I could have whatever they dosed my dad up with.”
“It was probably Valium.”
“Yeah, probably.”
She sets the remote control back down. “I want to try to sleep.”
“All right. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ava
I’m running…
Running from the falling rubble as the tower burns in the background.
My heart races as I run…
Run, run, run…
Until—
“Ava.”
My eyes pop open.
For a moment, I don’t know where I am, until I remember the panic attack, the ER, the hospital.
“The doctor’s back. He has your blood test results.”
Right. The doctor. The young man with brown hair and brown eyes and wearing green scrubs.
“Excellent news, Ms. Steel. All your labs look great. There’s no reason for you to stay here. But if you do have another panic attack, I want you to see your primary care physician. He or she will be able to help you.”
“I’ve never had a panic attack before,” I say. “I don’t plan to have any more of them.”
“That’s a great attitude,” Dr. Tonaki says, “and chances are, this will be your one and only panic attack. But just in case it’s not, please do seek medical treatment. I’m not necessarily talking about medication. Therapy is often very helpful with anxiety.”
I open my mouth but then close it.
I really don’t have anything to say.
I don’t think I’ll have another panic attack, but if I do, I will speak to Aunt Melanie.
“Are we free to go, then?” Brendan asks.
“You are.” Dr. Tonaki signs some documents and then leaves the room.
Brendan helps me get dressed, and then we head out to the car. It’s early Sunday morning, and he has to open the bar the next day. At least the bakery will be closed, so I don’t need to work until Monday.
I’m silent during the drive home, but I don’t sleep.
I don’t want the nightmare of running from the tower again.
But I can’t run from sleep forever. I have to accept the fact that my life may be changing. I can do that. I’m a strong person. I’ve always been a strong person.
And I have Brendan. I’m not the kind of woman who ever thought she needed a man for strength, but it’s nice to have him anyway. Having someone to lean on is never a bad thing.
Brendan parks in the alley behind the bar and then walks me to my place.
“I thought you might like to sleep in your own bed tonight.”
“I would, but I would like you lying next to me.”
“All right. But I want you to sleep. Nothing else.”
“Brendan, I’m so exhausted right now, I can’t even think about anything else.”
My eyes open to the sun streaming through my window. We get over three hundred days of sunshine per year in Colorado. This year we had a little bit of snow in mid-October, but so far that’s it. The weather reverted to an Indian summer, and I’m enjoying it immensely.
I reach toward Brendan, but—
I sit up in bed. “Brendan?”
He walks into the bedroom. “I’m here. Just making some coffee. You want some breakfast?”
Do I? After everything that went on, how can I possibly eat?
“Do I even have anything in the refrigerator?”
“A few eggs. And of course some bread.” He smiles.
“Eggs and toast. Sounds good. I’ll make it.” I pull my covers back.
“No, baby. You stay right there. I’ll make it.”
I rise from bed anyway and pad toward the bathroom. “I’m not the kind of person to stay in bed, even after the kind of night we had. I’m sorry to put you through that, Brendan.”
“Sweetheart, you didn’t put me through anything. I am here for you, no matter what happens. Anyone in your situation would’ve reacted the same way.”
“Yeah, true. But I know it won’t happen again. Dr. Tonaki doesn’t have to worry about me. That was my first and last panic attack.”
“I hope you’re right.” He smiles. “I’ll get breakfast ready.”
After I go to the bathroom, I throw my robe on and walk to the kitchen.
On the table…
The card…
The tower…
The tower has been my whole problem since I drew the damned card.
I pick it up, replace it in the deck, shuffle. Then I wrap the deck in my grandmother’s scarf and place it back in the wooden box.
I wait then. I wait for the sensation of relief that I’m expecting once the card is gone.
It doesn’t come.
I inhale deeply. Let it go. Just let it all go.
Perhaps my father had a point, stoned though he was. Maybe I need to let it go. The tower doesn’t have to take me over. So I didn’t feel a sense of relief. I’ll let it go anyway.
Brendan brings me a plate of eggs and toast and a cup of coffee. “So you finally put it away.”
“Yeah. I think that card was my whole problem, Brendan.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Not the fact that I drew it but the fact that I couldn’t put it away. That I let it consume me. It doesn’t have to consume me.”
“Absolutely,” he says. “It does not have to consume you. Nothing has to consume you. Except me, of course.” He gives me a corny wink.
“I think maybe it’s time to draw another card. After breakfast.”
“Yeah. Maybe you should draw one for both of us.”
“I’d be happy to. What time do you need to get over to the bar?”
“By noon. It’s ten thirty now.”
“Okay.” I sigh. “The whole town is probably talking about my father. And about me.”
“They’re not talking about you, baby. I made sure I got you out of the bar without anyone seeing.”
“How in the world did you accomplish that?”
“I’m Houdini.” He winks again.
“Seriously…”
“There’s another staircase from my apartment that leads to the storeroom. It comes to the back of my closet. It used to be boarded up, but when I had my apartment redone, I told the contractor to make it accessible. Now I know why.”
“To sneak your girlfriend out when she’s having a panic attack?”
“I just thought it might come in handy, and it did. No one saw us leave. And once we got to the hospital, I texted Laney to let her know I wouldn’t be back in for the rest of the night.”
“You’re something else, Brendan Murphy.”
“Like I said… Houdini.”
I take a bite of eggs, and I’m surprised at how good they taste. I ate surprisingly little of that beautiful Greek dinner that Aunt Marjorie prepared, and I didn’t get any of my baklava. No one did, as my father had his attack before dessert was served. Did Aunt Jade and Aunt Marjorie serve the dessert after that? Probably not. So we have a giant cake and baklava for two hundred sitting at Aunt Jade’s house.
Oh, well. Food never goes to waste when the Steels are around.
I finish my breakfast, Brendan finishes his, and then I take a sip of my coffee.
“Brendan?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you mind if I didn’t draw a card for you and me?”
“Why would I mind?”
“I think I need to draw a card for my father. A three-card spread. Maybe it will give me some insight into what’s going on, why he had such a bad panic attack.”
“You know those documents you found last night?”
“Yes.”
“Those are why—well, part of the reason—your father and your mother came to see me on Thanksgiving Day.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“The other reason,” he continues, “is because of the messages that you and I have received.”
“You and I and Pat Lamone, apparently.”
“Yes.”
“So it’s all connected.”
“Whether it is or not, I don’t know, but I get the feeling your parents think so.”
I rise from the table, head to the kitchen, and wash my hands, drying them on the dish towel. Then I grab the mahogany box containing my cards.
“How can you draw for your father when he’s not here to hold the cards and give them his energy?”
“I can do it. I’ve done it before, with family matters. I have my father’s energy inside me. My body comes from his body.”
“I see.”
I chuckle. “You don’t see it at all, but that’s okay. Thank you for trying to understand anyway.”
“No, I do understand, Ava.” He squeezes my hand. “I won’t pretend to put the faith in the tarot that you do, but I respect the fact that you do, and from what I’ve seen from the readings you’ve shared with me, you do have good insight and good intuition when it comes to the cards you draw.”
“That means a lot to me.” I take the cards out of the box, unwrap the scarf, and hold on to them for a moment.
Somewhere in this deck are the tower and the hierophant—the two cards that have caused me the most consternation over the past several days. Already I know I won’t draw either of those in this reading. I’m not sure how I know, but I’m utterly confident.
I shuffle the deck once, twice, three times, and then I hold it to my heart, imagining my father—his strength, his intelligence, his creative force, and the love he has for his family.
Then I cut the deck.
The three-card spread.
Mind, body, spirit. Past, present, future.
I close my eyes, breathe in deeply, and then I draw the first card.
The two of cups.
And it’s not reversed, thank God.
My parents’ marriage is strong. Not that I believed otherwise, but seeing it in the card helps a lot. Two lovers stare into each other’s eyes.
But…
There is a downside to the card.
The lovers sometimes create such a bond that it excludes others. My parents never excluded Gina and me from their love. To the contrary, we were cherished by both Mom and Dad.
That’s not the feeling I’m getting here.
No. I’m getting a more sinister feeling…as if my parents have excluded us from information that we need to know.
That we have the right to know.
I gulp.
“You okay?” Brendan asks.
I nod. I won’t panic. Already I know this. I will face whatever comes.
“Tell me about the card,” he says.
“It’s the two of cups. A card of romance, attraction.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” he says, “since your parents just had their twenty-fifth anniversary.”
“Right. Except it was supposed to be a happy occasion. A warm occasion. But all I felt last night—and the feeling is the same as I look at this card—is that they’re excluding Gina and me from something. Something big.”
“I’d say they know what the documents mean,” Brendan says. “And maybe the odd messages too.”
“That’s definitely what I’m feeling here.”
“You said the first card in the three-card spread represents the mind or the past.”
I can’t help a smile. Brendan is taking me seriously, remembering what I tell him about the tarot and my use of the cards.
“Usually. Nothing is set in stone, Brendan.”
But it occurs to me that I’m saying that for myself. Obviously, my mother and father were happy together in the past. For the past twenty-five years, for sure.
But now?
God, I hate feeling this way.
I inhale a deep breath.
I stave away the panic.
I won’t have another attack. I know this in my soul.
I breathe in again as I draw the second card.
The ten of pentacles.
Oh, God.
Family. That’s the word that shoves itself into my mind when I see this card. Sometimes finances…and I wonder…
Finances…
The deed transferring everything to my father.
Why?
“What do you see, Ava?” Brendan asks.
Family. Affluence. Riches.
Something’s about to happen. Something with regard to my family. Both my family as a whole—the extended Steels—and my nuclear family. Mom, Dad, Gina, and me.
I regard the two cards together. The two of cups and the ten of pentacles.
Marriage and family. Changes in the family dynamic.
The past, my parents, and their happy marriage.
The present, something wavering, becoming unthreaded or unraveled.
“The ten of pentacles,” I tell Brendan. “Sometimes called the ten of coins. It’s usually associated with family matters.”
“That seems interesting,” Brendan says, “given the focus on your family lately.”
“Yes, but it may indicate financial matters, affluence, or riches.”
“Your family already has that in abundance.”
“I know. I’m getting the feeling of a change here. This card represents the present or the body. And…” I shake my head. “Something’s changing, Brendan.”
“You’ve known that for a while. Not just because of the cards you’ve drawn previously but because of the conversations you’ve had with your family members.”
“I know. In the back of my mind, I was just hoping…” I play with my hair absently. “I was hoping I would draw some cards that might give me some peace. That might solidify my family. But I seem to be doing the opposite.”
“You can’t control the cards you draw,” he says.
“I know. But I believe in fate and fortune and destiny. I believe I draw the cards that I am meant to draw. I still believe that, Brendan, even though I don’t like what my cards have been telling me.”
“There are no guarantees in life—or the tarot—that you are going to get the results you want.”
I nod. “Tell me about it.”
“So, one more card?”
I nod again, draw in a deep breath, and choose my third card.
The empress.
The card representing the mother.
My mother.
But then I cock my head.
Not my mother. I’m doing this drawing for my father. So this card represents not my mother but his.
And it represents the future.
“This doesn’t make sense,” I say.
“Tell me what you see.”
“The card is the empress, which is mostly associated with the mother. But I’m doing this drawing for my father.”
“Which means…”
“I feel very strongly that this card represents his mother.”
“But his mother is dead.”
“I know. But this card represents the future. And I’m not getting any feelings that this card has anything to do with a dead person.” Invisible insects gnaw at my neck. “In fact… I almost feel like…”
“Like what?”
I search for words as I search for meaning.
But the words don’t come even as the meaning does.
Chills skitter over my flesh. “I’m not sure. Is it possible my grandmother isn’t dead?”
“How old was your grandmother when she had Joe?”
“Really young. Nineteen, I think.”
“And Joe is how old? Sixty-three?”
“Yes.”
“So that would make your grandmother eighty-two if she were alive. Many people live to be eighty-two.”
“I know, but she’s not alive. I don’t feel her. And that’s the strangest thing. I don’t feel her at all.”
“But you never knew her.”
“No, I didn’t. But as I was drawing these cards for the reading, I felt my connection to my father.”
“Of course. He’s your father. You know him.”
I bite my lip, fiddle with my lip ring. “I’m not explaining this very well. What I mean is, I could feel his blood in my veins. I don’t feel that with my grandmother.”
“I think you’re maybe reading too much into this, Ava.” Brendan places his hand on my forearm. “It’s difficult to feel someone when you’ve never met her. When she died before you were born.”
“I know you don’t believe in the kind of divination that I practice, but I believe that we get a lot of our power—our energy—from our ancestors. That they live through us, and not just in our physical characteristics and genetics. But in our souls. In transferred memories.”
“I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”
“It’s not something I talk about a lot, but I’ve always believed that our ancestors continue to live through us, more than just in our memories.”
“But you can’t have any memories of someone you never knew.”
“That’s precisely my point, Brendan. I never knew my grandmother, but I should be able to feel some connection. I don’t feel her at all.”
He wrinkles his brow. “Do you feel your grandfather? Her husband?”
“I do. And it’s nothing I can put into words, but I know he’s in me.”
“What about your mother’s parents?”
“That’s something I’ve suppressed, for my grandfather, I mean.”
“Why?”
“I knew my grandmother, and I feel her very strongly. But my grandfather… I haven’t thought of this since I was a little girl.”
