Page 7 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

7

Page of Cups

“I’m afraid that when I get back to school, none of my pants are going to fit me,” Ava says, patting her stomach.

She’s just managed to eat a double cheeseburger that was almost as big as her head.

Milly’s is known for their burgers and large portions. People from all over New England come to town just to dine here.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have a metabolism I would die for,” I reply, stuffing my mouth full of french fries. “Plus, what’s life if you can’t enjoy yourself?”

Ava sighs, picking up one more fry, and dragging it through a mound of ketchup before eating the red-coated potato.

“It’s just so good. Milly’s has the best food.” She moans. “There’s nothing close to it near campus.”

I chuckle. “You have Sub Shack.”

She eyes me with contempt. When your options are limited to one place, you quickly grow tired of it, and that’s Ava’s current predicament. Her love of turkey and cheese is ruined.

“I’ll raise your meal-plan allowance if you’re not using the gift card I got you.”

She shakes her head. “I will. I just need a month—or two—break. I mean, they know me by name there.”

“Not hard. The town isn’t much larger than Knox Harbor, kiddo.”

She sighs before taking a long sip of cola.

I chuckle, dipping my head toward her plate. “Eat up, girlie. It’ll be a while before you’re back.”

Her lips turn down into a pout. “Don’t remind me. I really wish I hadn’t agreed to go to Sammy’s. I want more time with you. It went too fast.”

I smile. “Me too, baby girl, but it’s an amazing opportunity. Sammy’s family, from what I’ve been told, throws incredible parties.”

At orientation, I met a few local women who were familiar with the Cartwright family. It’s an honor to be invited, and something the local kids strive to achieve. It’s about as big a deal to score an invite to one of their yearly gatherings as it is to rush on college campuses.

Their gated mansion rests on twenty sprawling acres of rolling hills and mature trees. It’s old and ostentatious, having been passed down for centuries. Generational wealth that stems from railroad ties, apparently. Now they breed and train horses, many of which, I’ve been told, have been Kentucky Derby winners. Two even won the Triple Crown. Money is no object to the Cartwrights, and their parties showcase their wealth.

“From what Sammy has said, the party is going to be next level. The favors last year for the students were pairs of Birkenstocks. They had a whole room of various styles, colors, and sizes. Like…how?” Her eyes sparkle, and a broad smile lights up her face.

She leans forward, eyes scanning the area. “You don’t think they’re dirty, like Richard Dunbar?”

My head jerks back. “No. Why would you think that?”

I hate the rumor mill and the fact that Ava was filled in on all the details before I had a chance to tell her myself. The last thing I want is for Ava to distrust people.

She sighs. “I don’t really think that, but how in the heck do people amass that much wealth without being crooked?”

I sit back in my chair, shrugging a shoulder. “Not everyone with money is a bad person, Ava. A lot of wealthy people work hard for what they have. Sammy seems like a great kid, and you like her, right?”

She bobs her head. “I do. She’s one of my closest friends at school. And she isn’t snobby or pretentious.”

I smile. “Then that’s all that matters. You’ll have an amazing time.”

We’re quiet for a few minutes. Ava’s focused on finishing the food on her plate while my eyes shift around the diner, taking in the few people eating around us.

The usuals are all accounted for, but there are a few unfamiliar faces seated at the counter bar.

Knox Harbor was recently featured in a magazine as one of the most idyllic small towns. Ever since, a string of tourists have descended, mostly East Coasters from nearby states, to check it out.

Christine and Milly are the only two working the floor, while Pete’s in the back, manning the grill with his new assistant. I think I remember Milly saying his name was Brett, but I could be wrong.

“Everything okay?” Christine asks, making the rounds.

“All good here, Chris. I’ll take the check.”

She smiles and rushes off toward the server station.

“How are you doing, Mom?” I turn my head toward Ava, taking her in.

The worry I saw last time she asked me such a question is absent, which is a relief. I didn’t want her worrying about me then, and I sure as heck don’t want her worrying now.

I’ve come a long way since October, and I hope that she can see that. Seems as though she does.

“I’ve asked about Aunt Nina, but not you. She’s like your sister, and I can only imagine how difficult it’s been for you to watch her go through this.” Her eyes lower to the table. “I’ve had a hard time dealing with what she’s going through,” she admits.

It hasn’t occurred to me to have a deeper conversation about things with Ava. I’d hoped to brush it off and not concern her with the messy details. It was bad enough she knew. But Nina is her godmother, and I should have realized that Ava isn’t a baby anymore. She deserves the truth.

“It’s not easy to watch,” I confess. “But your aunt is strong.”

Ava toys with her cup, not meeting my eyes. “She is, but sometimes I wonder how much of it is an act.”

Ava has always been so perceptive. Since she was a child, she saw things that most adults would have missed, too busy going about life to stop and look around.

I lean over the table, because talking about this out in public is dicey. Nobody needs to know Nina’s business any more than they already do.

“She’s an adult, and she doesn’t want other people fighting her battles. I’m trying to respect that.”

Ava offers a close-lipped smile, not liking that fact any more than I do.

“We only want to protect those we love,” Ava says, sounding far too sad for my liking.

“I know, Aves, but it’s not always possible. We just have to be here for her and follow her lead.”

The door above Milly’s chimes, and in walks a group of women, all wearing red hats.

“I think we should change the subject,” I whisper, motioning with my head toward the door.

Her eyes enlarge and she makes a face in confirmation. Ava knows all about the Red Hatters and their penchant for gossip.

Today, however, there’s a somberness to the typically chatty group of women. Their heads are bowed, and a sense of gloom hangs in the air.

“What’s going on with them?” Ava asks, and I shrug.

“Alyssa. Ava,” Nan Jenkins says, moving toward the front of the pack, face puffy and mascara stained. “It’s so nice to see you two out and about.”

This is just her way of digging in to see how I respond.

I know her games, and I refuse to play them.

My head tilts to the side, one eyebrow lifted as I take her in.

She’s wearing a pair of denim overalls with a white-collared shirt underneath. Today, her red hat is understated—a ball cap with large white peonies across the brim.

“Is something wrong, Mrs. Jenkins?”

She sniffles, standing up straight. “It’s awful. Truly awful.”

I’m about to ask her what’s awful, but she barrels ahead with a barrage of questions.

“How’s Nina? Nick West?” Her whole demeanor shifts from melancholy to meddling in a matter of seconds.

“Fine,” I say, looking around to her friends, who are all still rather subdued for the Red Hats.

“Just fine?” she asks, leaning forward as though I’ll impart some secret to her.

“Holy moly,” Ava hisses from across the table. “Get the hint, lady.”

Mrs. Jenkins turns to her, and I smother a laugh.

“What was that, dear?”

Ava makes a point of looking down at her phone, trying to cover up her outburst.

“Sorry, I spoke out loud.” She lifts her phone into the air. “My professor is sending emails during the holiday, and nobody is responding.”

She shrugs and Mrs. Jenkins huffs, turning back to me.

“You know, you missed out on helping with the Christmas carnival.”

Nope…didn’t miss out on a thing.

They ask for help every year, but really, they just want bodies to do the work as they bark out orders. They aren’t interested in ideas or changing things up.

I pass.

“You could always help us scout the area for the missing girl,” she says, so nonchalantly I almost miss the remark.

“A missing girl?” She puckers her lips, nodding her head so aggressively that flowers detach from her hat, falling to the floor at her feet. She doesn’t so much as flinch.

“We could use your help.” I go to speak, but she raises her voice, pressing forward. “It’s Esther Long’s granddaughter after all.”

I’m not familiar with Esther Long, but it’s still sad to hear.

“I really wish I could help, but Ava leaves today.”

She lifts her hand. “Say no more. Your time with her is valuable. It goes so fast.”

I nod and give her a polite smile, hoping she’ll leave it there.

“Maybe you can help with the Fourth of July festival?”

No such luck.

I suck air in through my teeth. “I’m going to be all tied up for the next few months. Probably all year,” I amend. “I’ve started my own business—”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. The last person that I need to know about my business, before it’s even off the ground and running, is her.

“You did? I didn’t see anything come through the chamber.”

I take a deep breath and shove down my irritation.

“Because it’s still in the creation process. When I’m ready, I’ll inform the chamber.”

It’s an ordinance that every business being operated within Knox Harbor has to register with the chamber. It’s just a way for them to siphon more money from locals and have their business in everyone else’s.

She claps her hands together. “Very good. I’ll eagerly await the details. You’ll have to tell me all about it sometime. Right now, I’m going to go have lunch and console my friend.” She glances over at their table. “We have a busy day ahead.”

“Good luck. I hope you find Esther’s granddaughter,” I say, and Ava parrots my words.

“Alyssa Mann, is that you?” I hear yet another voice I was hoping to avoid today. Mrs. Hampson shuffles over, smiling wide. “You have to come next door soon. I have some new dishes I think you would love.”

I internally cringe. The last time I bought anything from her shop, I ended up attached to a ghost that was less than friendly. He damn near ruined things between Nick and me before they even had a chance to begin.

“Another day. Ava’s leaving to go back to school.”

Ava looks at me crossly, knowing that it’s an excuse.

She doesn’t have a clue about what went down after that visit to Marmalade and Rye, because it’s not something a young girl needs to be concerned with. Besides, Ava’s made her feelings on the subject of ghosts known.

I give her a stern look that I hope reads Keep your trap shut, kid , and thankfully she appears to get the hint.

“I’m closed for the remainder of the day, so soon will suffice.” She leans in, getting close to my ear. “I have a situation that I was informed you may be able to help with.”

I lean back, narrowing my eyes in on the frail woman. “What situation exactly?”

“One we shouldn’t discuss here, dear. It’s…sensitive.” She glances around the room, appearing skeptical of those around us.

“If it’s important, maybe you should call the police?” I suggest, having no idea what I could possibly help her with.

“What does a donkey know about compote?” She waves a hand in the air. “No. This is a matter that only you can help with. I’ll see you soon, Alyssa,” she mumbles as she walks off, not even offering a goodbye.

Ava’s eyes are trained on Mrs. Hampson’s back, narrowed. “Did she just call you a donkey?”

I shrug, shaking my head. I’ve been called worse.

“In this instance, I don’t believe I was the donkey.” I chuckle, shaking my head.

The more I think on it, the more my gut tells me that someone has clued Mrs. Hampson in on my ability. Most likely Gloria.

Freaking fantastic.

I have Ava wrapped in a tight hug, not ready to say goodbye. We just did this back in October, but it never gets easier. While I’m proud of Ava and happy she’s chasing her dreams, I miss her.

“Please drive carefully, and as soon as you get to Sammy’s, call me,” I say, giving Ava a stern look that’s entirely unnecessary.

I shut the door and blow her a kiss. She returns the gesture, waving with one hand before backing out down the driveway. I watch her until she’s out of sight, taking a piece of me with her, just like she does every time she leaves.

I need to do something. Otherwise, I’ll end up crawling back on the couch and sulking because Ava’s gone.

I quickly shoot off a text to Nick, deciding to invite him to dinner.

Me

Do you have plans for tonight?

Wanna have dinner at my place?

He doesn’t respond, so I go about my day, cleaning up the house and doing laundry. An hour later, my phone dings.

Nick

I’d love to, but I have the flu.

Whatever Jack had…I’ve got it.

Me

Oh no! Can I do anything to help?

Nick

I’m good. Thanks for asking.

Jackie is here cleaning.

Me

Feel better!

If he’s been throwing up, I’m sure he won’t want to eat, but when he’s feeling better, he will. I go through my pantry to locate things to add to a care package, shoving what I find into a weaved basket that belonged to Garrett’s mother.

I’m just walking up the sidewalk when the front door opens and a female version of Nick steps out the door.

I’ve seen Jackie once or twice lately as she’s come and gone from Nick’s, but I can’t help but notice how similar they look. She’s quite a bit younger. Tall, dark hair, and beautiful blue eyes.

“Alyssa, right?” she says when she sees me.

I smile, offering an awkward wave. “Yes. Hi.”

She returns the smile, running her eyes over me in a way that makes me feel a tad insecure.

“It’s so nice to meet you. Nick’s told me a lot about you.”

My cheeks heat, and warmth spreads all over my body.

“I came to bring him a care package,” I say, lifting the basket into the air.

She grins. “That’s so sweet of you. The guy’s house is completely bare. I was just running out to grab some things.”

I look down into my basket. “I have soup, Gatorade, ginger chews, a cold compress, antacids, Metamucil, and lemon-ginger tea.”

She whistles. “You covered all the bases. I can tell you’re a mom.”

I chuckle. “Guilty.”

She looks back toward the house. “He’s really at the end of this flu. He’s weak but he hasn’t run a fever or thrown up in twenty-four hours. I just disinfected, so you should be safe to go in. If you want.”

That last part is said like some sort of challenge. As if she’s sizing up just how serious we are, using my decision as the answer.

“Do you think he’ll mind?” I say, pressing my teeth together.

Jackie grunts, waving a hand in the air. “Men don’t care about that stuff. At least, Nick doesn’t.”

She’s probably right. Garrett wouldn’t have thought twice about allowing me to be around him sick, aside from the fear of me catching it.

“I’ll take my chances.”

She smothers a grin, bobbing her head. “Thanks for looking out for him. I…think he’ll be set until tomorrow with all that,” she says, gesturing to the basket. “Guess I’ll head home.”

“I’ll let him know,” I say, moving to the side to allow her to make her way down the steps.

She stops at the bottom, turning to look over her shoulder at me. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better when he’s up to it,” she says. “Don’t let him tell you he’s fine. He’s bored out of his mind.”

I nod. “I’ll sit with him.”

She smiles widely. “See you around.” She waves a hand over her shoulder, sauntering to her car with the grace of a dancer.

The snow-covered driveway would be enough for me to tiptoe, but she doesn’t miss a beat, easily gliding over the slick white powder with ease.

Heading inside, I move straight to the kitchen, placing the perishables into the refrigerator and depositing the basket onto the table.

“Jack?” Nick grumbles from the couch.

I turn to find him facing the TV, sprawled out on the couch, under a blanket that appears to be made for a child. It’s not, but due to his size, it’s completely inadequate.

“It’s me. Alyssa. I brought over some supplies, and Jackie asked me to sit with you for a while.”

He turns around, offering a lazy smile. “She shouldn’t have asked that of you. I’m fine.”

I place a hand on my hip. “You’re not. You look pale as death.”

“That sounds ominous. Let’s hope the stomach bug doesn’t take me out. Not a manly way to go.”

I smirk. “You had a different way of going out in mind?”

He makes a face. “Don’t we all?”

My nose wrinkles. “Umm…no. A tad morbid and very premature to think about dying, don’t ya think?” I tilt my head. “I’ve had enough death for a while.”

He grimaces. “Well…when you put it that way…”

I smile. “Okay, sick boy, what are we doing? It’s three o’clock, and I have some time to kill.”

He licks his lips. “You really don’t have to sit here with me. Jackie is overbearing as hell and bound and determined to play matchmaker, no matter how you feel about it.”

I laugh. “Lucky for her, I kinda like you. And for the record, I was coming over here to check on you well before I ran into her.” I glance around the room, looking for another blanket. One that will actually cover the man. “Where are your blankets?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” he asks, lifting the small navy fleece.

“For starters, it’s small enough to belong to Zoey.”

He chuckles. “Fair point.” He motions toward the hall. “You can grab my comforter. Jackie just ran it through the laundry. It should be on my bed.”

I nod, heading toward the back of his house, until I find his room at the end of the hall. It’s the only door that’s open. The bed is made, but the black comforter is folded and draped at the end. Moving forward, I reach out to grab it when something falls, the noise coming from what appears to be the adjoined bathroom.

I peek around the corner to find a bottle of Tylenol lying on the floor. Jackie didn’t mention when he last took medication, so I grab the bottle and the comforter on my way out.

“Have you taken anything lately?” I ask, lifting the bottle of pain meds.

He purses his lips. “No, actually. I’ll take two of those. If you don’t mind?”

I smile, making my way to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water before offering the pills and water to Nick. When he’s done, I remove the small blanket, draping his comforter over him.

“There,” I muse. “Much better.”

He sighs, lying back. “Thank you. This is better,” he admits.

Nick points toward the massive TV hanging from the wall. “Wanna watch a movie?”

I take a seat right next to him on the couch, snuggling into the comfy cushion. “What are we watching?”

“You choose,” he says, eyes trained on me. One corner of his lip is twitching as he suppresses a smile.

“Nope,” I say, popping the p . “We have a rule at my house. Whoever is sick makes the choice.”

His lips tip down, and he looks at me with a blank expression, as though his brain is foggy and he can’t even drum up the name of a movie to suggest. He pouts his full lips, and it’s adorable. I would imagine not many people have gotten to see Nick West like this. Vulnerable and laid back.

“What’s something you’ve wanted to watch but never gotten around to?” I ask, hoping to spark an idea, because I do not want to have to choose. It’ll take an hour for me to settle on something. It was a complaint that Garrett had often. If it wasn’t movies I struggled to choose from, it was restaurants or paint colors. Really, any decision. For the most part, those days are behind me, because I have no choice. There’s nobody to take the reins.

Except for today.

Nick chews on his cheek.

“A series, maybe? We’ve got time to kill,” I offer.

His eyes widen. “ Lord of the Rings ? Would you watch those?”

I smile. “I’ll definitely watch those.”

I’ve seen them before, but it’s been years. It’s one of those franchises that Garrett would sometimes just have on in the background while he read or worked.

He pulls up a streaming app, searching for The Fellowship of the Ring , while I quickly check my phone, in case Ava texted.

She didn’t, but I put the phone on vibrate so I’ll be alerted if she does.

“You know, you don’t have to sit clear over there,” Nick says.

I glance at the small amount of space between us. If I move closer, I’ll practically be on his lap. My cheeks warm at the thought.

“You’re sick,” I say, managing to scoot just a tad bit closer.

He frowns. “I’m not contagious.”

“That’s not…” I shake my head. “I only meant that I want you to be comfortable.”

He pats the spot next to him. “I think I’ll be rather comfortable with a gorgeous woman sitting next to me.”

“Flatterer…”

“Is that a word?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear.

“Sure is,” I say, smiling and sliding the few inches to seal the gap between us.

Our legs touch, and I just about melt into the cushion when Nick places his arm around me, pulling me farther in to his side. It’s been so long since I’ve cuddled with a man, and it hadn’t occurred to me how much I missed such a simple thing.

He lowers the comforter over our legs, and I settle in, completely comfortable and not at all awkward. I smile to myself, remembering my conversation with Ava surrounding said awkwardness. This feels good. It feels…right.

We’re halfway through the first film when my eyes get heavy. I feel Nick’s large arm pulling me down next to him, draping around my middle. We’re sprawled on his couch, spooning. My hand is by my side, holding his.

This is the closest we’ve been, and it feels wonderful. It’s something I’ve thought about on a few occasions—being with him like this, like a real couple. But reality is better than I could’ve imagined. Sadly, I’m too tired to bask in that for long.

“Close your eyes, Lyss. Get some rest.”

Not long after he suggests it, I fall asleep, snuggled in Nick’s arms.