Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) (13 page)

“You’ve been here like eight months, haven’t you? Maybe you’re stashing blankets in there in case you break down sometime this winter.”

“Maybe.” Keep guessing. I’m not going to talk about this right now, unless he wants to witness me falling to pieces as I cry uncontrollable tears. Last I heard, men weren’t fond of women who cry all the time.

“Oh, I know!” He snaps his fingers. “You’re hiding Ned in there!”

“Stop!” I playfully punch toward him but don’t touch him. I don’t feel right touching him as badly as I want to. Even though the tablet is shut and Macy isn’t there, her presence lingers. “I’ll take care of it eventually.”

“Sorry I’m not a fan of the house.”

“That’s okay. Most of my job is people not liking what I show them.” This part doesn’t bother me. I don’t expect everyone to fall head over heels in love with every house I take them to see. Work would be a lot easier if things always went that way, but I’m realistic.

We start the drive back to the office where Kellan left his car. The radio is on my favorite station which only plays music from the nineties. Let’s be serious, that decade was filled with awesome bands. Everything from hip hop to grunge — I love all genres , but these are the songs I cherish.
 

“Do you want to drive to the game together in November?”

Our team was invited to a special tournament in Illinois. Tiffany and Taylor really want to go because there’s a chance to win money. I can take it or leave it. Gretchen and Clark are viewing the weekend as more of a second honeymoon since his parents will watch Mona. “I hadn’t really thought about it yet.” It’s still three weeks away. “I guess I figured I would ride with your sister and Clark.”

“No. You don’t want to do that. Trust me.”

“Is Macy coming?” I might as well ask. I would think his fiancée would come to support him.

“She never comes to these things unless she has to, and since you’re in her spot now, she doesn’t have to. Besides, she’ll be back in Arizona for work then, and doesn’t come back until the day after the tournament.”

“Oh.” A three hour drive in the car with Kellan all by myself. It could be entertaining, or pure torture, but driving alone would be no fun either. No one has offered to accompany me anyway, except Kellan. I probably would be more like a third wheel with any of the duos. “Sure. Why not?”

“Awesome. I’ll put a note in my calendar to pick you up that Friday morning.”

“Friday? The game is on that Saturday.”

“Didn’t Gretchen tell you? She got hotel rooms for everyone. We’ll stay the night so we can practice right in the morning.”

Like couples? Her and Clark, Tiffany and Taylor, and me and Kellan. Single bed or double? Does he know this? My eye twitches.

“Don’t worry. You and I have separate rooms.”

My confusion must have been obvious. “Whew,” I wipe my forehead. “I was worried there for a second.”

The truth is, I’m worried anyway.

We're standing outside the tiny house, nothing hinting a palm reader operates inside. I expected a flashing neon sign in the window that said “Palm Readings.” Instead, we’re in a suburban neighborhood in front of a home with a white picket fence and everything.

"You can't be serious." Ned crosses his arms as he coughs to disguise a chuckle.

"Oh, I'm for real. This is on my bucket list.” I've contemplated for years going to a psychic of some sort. I always wondered if I was crazy wanting to let someone, others refer to as a hack, tell me my future. Even so, do I want insight into what’s in store for me? What if I don't like my destiny? What if my purpose doesn’t exist? If I find out I’m bound to be a failure in life and die alone in a cluttered condo filled with cats, am I better off being naive? No. I’m starting over. Part of my healing process is facing fear and embracing every moment. This is one of those moments.

"Why am I your first victim?"

We’ve only just arrived and Ned is already working my nerves. I want to enjoy our evening together and give something between us — anything — a chance. “I had a coupon.”

“What? A coupon? What kind of a fraud did you bring me to?”

“I’m teasing. No coupon. I heard about this lady from my boss.” Linda warned me to stay away from anyone offering discounts or specials. A true palm reader won’t diminish his or her gift in such a way. “And you’re
not
a victim. I’m not forcing you to do this. You can leave. But remember, you said I could choose." I point to the house. "I choose this."

He rubs his hands together to keep warm. I’m bundled up with my hat and gloves. November isn’t the coldest month in Wisconsin, but the temperature isn’t such that I would forgo layers. ”Do you really believe in this stuff?"

I’m not sure what I believe in right now. My mom got sick and passed away, leaving my dad desperate and confused. I took care of him for years before he started bowling again, and some jerk took his life from him. What’s there to believe in?
Who
is there to believe in when everyone I love is being taken from me? “I don’t know.” I find it difficult to process this loss surrounding me, and I respect the fact that there may be a deeper meaning. In order to find the significance in all of it, I need to start searching somewhere. “I want to find out.”

He clasps his hands together. "Okay, then. Let's go."

I yip in both nervousness and excitement as we walk to the doorway and ring the bell. Ned looks nice tonight with his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. I notice a tattoo on his neck, one I haven't seen before. "What's that stand for?"

He touches his palm to the ink, his fingers running down the black lines. "Freedom."

The chain link is tightly sealed with a broken one at the end. The ink runs from the back of his ear down toward his collar bone. A story is weaved behind that — one I’m anxious to learn about one day.

The door opens and behind it is a tall woman, probably in her late forties, dressed in a button down salmon shirt and blue jeans. Her curly hair rests on top of her head, a stick shoved through it to hold it in place. "Welcome." Her voice shakes and is raspy as she blows smoke out from her cigarette. My eyes water as the vapor hits them. "Come in and make yourself comfortable."

We step into her home, pretty turn key with the wooden floors and open floor plan. Where is the beaded curtain, crystal ball, and the burning incense?
 

“Please, through here. I practice downstairs.”

We shuffle through the hallway leading to a door. I peek my head into the kitchen where a young girl sits at the table doing homework. I’m a tad uneasy going into this stranger’s basement, but the sight of the woman’s child brings a little comfort.
 

We reach the bottom of the stairs. The lower level is a walk-out and double doors lead outside. In front of the doors is a divider to darken the space when light pours in on a sunny day. A small table with a green tablecloth is the centerpiece of the area, with wicker chairs on either side, a pillow on the back of each. A table is to the right where she is diffusing essential oils and a dim lamp is on.
 

"I'm Carrie. Please, tell me your names."

Carrie. That’s so simple, so
not
New Age. I guess shock is what welcomes you when going into something with complete opposite expectations.
 

"Shouldn't you know that already? You're the psychic."

I jab Ned in his side. How incredibly rude! "Sorry, Carrie. I'm Kate and this is Ned." I’ll admit, the thought crossed my mind, but I know better to keep my mouth shut.

"No problem, dear." She takes her time getting an extra chair for Ned and we sit down. She joins us. “People respond like that quite a lot, actually. They think I can see the future and read minds. That is not what I do. I read your palm and your lines tell us what’s to come.”

"Same difference, right?" Ned whispers to me.

I frown at him. I seriously want to do this and he's mocking the woman. Let's hope she can't put a curse on us and, if she can, she only curses Ned because I believe in her.

Carrie ignores him, thankfully, and reaches out for his hand. "Let's start with you non-believer."

Ned shrugs as he allows her to take his hand. "You have three major lines — your life, heart, and head line." She traces each as she says the word. "Yours are pretty straightforward. This tells me you'll live a long life, but it won't be without its complications." She tightens her grip on his hand and leans in closer. "Have you already faced some challenges?”

"I'm in my thirties. You don’t reach your thirties without experiencing a few things." His eyes dart toward mine and he gives a half-smile before focusing back on Carrie.

"No, this is more than normal quote unquote experience. You've been to hell and back."

His lips start quivering and he clears his throat. "Okay, you’re up.” He yanks his hand back and wipes it on his jeans as though it will wash away what Carrie said.

I try not to explode into a laugh and manage to hold it back. I love that she freaked him out. I'll ask him about it later. I'm looking forward to my turn.

She takes my hand and hers are cold. I shiver as she outlines the first line. “You've loved and lost. Recently." My heart murmurs as I think about my dad. He would have enjoyed this, too. I nod as she continues. "You loved this person deeply and are trying to move past it."

"Yes." I whisper.

Ned scoots his chair out. "I'll meet you outside."

Why does he need to leave? I stayed for his reading. We’re here together, and he should support me. Carrie spooked him, but seriously, grow a pair, Ned! I wave him away, along with his cowardliness, so she can finish with me.

"Will I? Move on?"

She traces another line. "You will, and someone who’s come into your life recently will help you and be a good friend. A lover perhaps."

Ned? After the way he's acting on this date, I'm not so sure. His chances at a third are pretty slim. He's attractive, and I could use some physical intimacy, but I don't want to share my past with him. Or my future.

"Your love line is very strong. You’re infatuated with someone in your life. Explore this. Follow where this goes."

She must mean Kellan. ”He's taken." Disappointment covers my face.

"The boy out there?" She points to the stairs.

"No. Someone else." Someone I will never be able to pursue.

“That’s good because I don’t think that boy is good for you as a lover.”

Who says lover? And when she uses the term, does she mean only in the sense of sex, or the entire arrangement? A relationship?
 

“I’m sorry, dear. Perhaps this man I'm seeing isn't the one with whom you’ll connect."

"Perhaps." Kellan and I won’t ever happen. Maybe I’ll meet another man soon. Or I’ll start collecting cats. I might as well get a head start.

"Is there anything else you would like me to try and answer?”

Plenty. Is my dad happy? Is he with my mother now? Will the bed and breakfast survive without me? Am I ever going to sell Janice's house? I don't ask her these things, though. Some things you just don't want the answer to. "No. Thank you."

"You're welcome, honey." She puts her hands around mine. "No matter what the lines tell us, you direct your own life."

I nod and we head back into the main area of her home. Ned is standing in the breezeway playing on his phone.

“How’d it go?”
 

“Good. Thanks for sticking around.” I say this with sarcasm, but he doesn’t catch it.

"You ready?"

We still need to pay, and Ned obviously doesn’t intend to do so. "How much?" I pull my wallet out of my purse.

Carrie glances at him, apparently having expected him to take the lead as well. “I charge forty-five each for thirty minutes, but since he scurried out so fast, I’ll only collect on yours.”
 

“That’s very kind of you.” I grab five twenties. “But you still did a reading. Here’s a hundred. Keep the change.” She’s deserving of the tip.

“Thank you, Kate. You’re sweet. Before you go, can I answer any questions, or perhaps you may find use in some oils? I keep a handful in stock.”

“No, thank you, but I
will
take a business card.” She pulls one out of her pocket and hands it to me. “I think I’ll be back.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” she says as she opens the door.
 

Me, too.

Days later the way Ned treated the palm reader still upsets me. He made a mockery of it and then flipped out when she obviously got something right. Tension filled the car ride back to my place, and I raced upstairs as fast as I could without even allowing a chance for a kiss. He didn’t want to discuss what happened, but I’m curious to know.

"So what's Ned's deal?" Gretchen is over with Mona while I pack for the trip. I'm not sure what to bring. We probably will go out to celebrate if we win, so I should include a dressy outfit. I grab a black pencil skirt and a cream blouse.
 

"What do you mean? He's ... Ned."

"Okay, care to elaborate?" I fold my skirt and set it neatly in my suitcase. I hate packing, but I’m an expert. Give me an entire closet and I’ll fit it in no more than two suitcases. Organization is one of my best qualities and I enjoy putting it to use, except for this. The process of arranging the clothes in the bag isn’t what I dislike — it’s figuring out what I’ll need.

Gretchen folds a leg under and sits down on the bed, situating Mona on her knee. "Would you elaborate yourself, please?”

I shove some underwear in the extra compartment and plop down beside her. "We went on a date last week and I took him to a palm reader. She said something that spooked him and he ran out of the room like he saw a ghost."

"Ned had a palm reading?” She’s laughing as she wiggles Mona’s fingers. “He hates that kind of stuff."

"Well, he made that clear. She said something about him living in Hell and he rushed out of there."

She shrugs. “His life's been a tad bumpy.”