Page 32 of Date Knight (Roll for Romance #2)

When she started again, I tried to focus on the shuffling, having her stop about two-thirds of the way through. She drew the card that was on top at that moment and put it between us. It was a red circle with a constellation in it and the word “Sagittarius” written below.

“What does it mean?” I asked, and Amy laughed.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, I know what Sagittarius is. That’s Morgan’s sun sign actually. But oracle cards are all different, so I need to use the book.” She opened it up and flipped through until she found the corresponding page, squinting as she read through it.

“Hah!” she shouted, not properly laughing, just that one “hah”. Then she kept reading.

“What?” I asked when she didn’t explain, trying to lean forward over the booklet to read over the top, but she yanked it away from me.

“Let me read!” she said, then scooted a few inches away from me and resumed reading. Another few seconds later, she nodded and shut the book.

“So the good news is that this deck is amazing.”

“That’s good,” I said warily. “What’s the bad news?”

“The bad news, for you anyway, is that it’s impeccably accurate.”

I frowned. “How so?”

She cleared her throat and reopened the book, reading directly from the page. “This card could mean that you’re spreading yourself too thin. Sagittarius is adaptable, but that doesn’t mean you should try to do it all. If you do, you risk burning out, or possibly even losing yourself altogether.”

Amy stared at me for a moment, her eyes wide as she gauged my reaction, but then she just burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but laugh too. It was, in fact, a little too accurate for my taste, but I had to laugh or I might cry.

“Well that’s fucking spooky.”

“Isn’t it just?”

I reached my hand out for the booklet to have a look, and this time she handed it over happily.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked, holding it up, and Amy nodded. “Do you actually believe in all this?”

Amy sighed and seemed to think about her answer.

She narrowed her eyes, not angrily, but in consideration.

Like she was judging whether she could be real with me.

I tried to somehow convey telepathically that she could tell me everything; that she could admit to casting spells on me and I’d still be okay with it.

“Honestly?”

I nodded encouragingly.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, and she slumped slightly.

“I mean, I believe in science, and Western medicine, and all that. And I don’t believe that putting a rhodonite freeform under the full moon will cure Ethel’s dementia, just like I don’t believe I’m inherently self-centred because I’m an Aries. ”

“Good,” I said, frowning. “Because you’re one of the least self-centred people I’ve ever met.”

We didn’t often compliment one another without softening it with snark, and it took her a moment to absorb what I’d said.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “But I do believe it can be useful. That if I use my birth chart to try to better understand myself, and better communicate with the people in my life, that’s no bad thing.

And if I use a horoscope as a prompt for looking at my life through a different lens, that’s usually a good thing. ”

I didn’t interrupt her– I could tell from the way she seemed to feel her way through the explanation that this was maybe the first time she’d articulated this out loud.

“And if I give Ethel a crystal as a gesture of love, and of care,” she continued, “then that sentiment isn’t wasted.

It’s a reflection of my intention to help her, which I follow up with other actions.

Like helping you around the house, and driving her to appointments, and just keeping her company.

I give her the crystals because I believe it will mean something to her to know I care, and it certainly means something to me.

If there’s some sort of magic to it too, that’s just a bonus. ”

I sat there for a long moment after she finished, just nodding.

She was right; she showed time and time again how much she cared about Ethel, in ways that went far beyond crystals and readings.

In fact, I couldn’t think of a single time she’d used astrology or tarot or crystals to communicate something she didn’t back with her actions.

“What about you?” she asked, and I could tell my lack of response had made her uncomfortable. “You don’t believe in fate, or the stars, or anything like that?”

I didn’t like being put suddenly in the spotlight, and the retort was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Well, I believe in the stars, obviously. Just step outside and look up.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Hardy har. You know what I meant.”

“You’re right,” I said, dropping the instinctual smirk. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, looking at me so intently it was like she was trying to read my mind. And hell, after that oracle card, maybe she could. The thought made me squirm; I definitely didn’t need her seeing everything going on in there.

“Not really,” I finally admitted. “I think I stopped believing in that kind of thing– or stopped wanting to, anyway– when my parents died.”

“Oh, shit, Phil,” Amy said, bringing her hands to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything to do with that.”

I reached across the space between us to put a hand on her knee. “It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.”

“Good,” she said, putting her hand on top of mine, making me breathe in sharply.

“In fact,” I said, “I think it’s nice that you believe that.”

“It doesn’t compromise your precious sense of free will, or seem like stupid people grasping at straws? That was what Chris always said.”

I shook my head. “Well, first of all, you’re far from stupid.

And second of all, all this stuff with Ethel has shown me that free will only gets you so far.

That damn card was right; I’ve never felt less in control of her wellbeing, or my own, than I do right now.

I do everything I can, staying organised with her meds and consistent with her physio and informed about every new protocol and finding, but none of it stops her slipping away more and more every day.

Some days I feel like there’s nothing I can do at all. ”

Amy squeezed my hand and held it in place on her knee as she scooted closer to me, until we were just a couple inches apart, our legs nearly touching.

“You do so much for that woman,” she said.

“I know you feel like you owe her for raising you after your parents died, but you do more than anyone would ever expect. I don’t think it’s possible to have an easy experience with dementia.

From what I’ve read, it’s really normal to feel like you do as a carer. ”

“From what you’ve read?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I’m subscribed to a few newsletters. I’ve ordered a couple of books.”

I smiled. “I love how much you care about her. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course I do. It’s Ethel.”

That might not have meant anything to anyone else, but it meant everything to those who knew her.

For Ethel’s whole life, she’d been a force of nature.

And yeah, it was heartbreaking to see her losing pieces of that every day.

But it didn’t take away one bit of the impact she’d had on everyone in her life over the years.

Amy turned my hand over with hers and laced her fingers through mine, and suddenly the remnants of heat in the air collapsed in on that spot like a black hole. I couldn’t look away from where we touched, her palm pressed firmly against mine.

We were linked in so many ways in our lives, and it felt more palpable than ever. After all my attempts to slow down time over the months and years that I’d been caring for Ethel, it was here with Amy where I felt like I could hold all of that at bay. Where time stood still.

Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to make the move. But then I saw a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze, and my brain flipped from “fuck it” to just “fuck”. So I pulled my hand away and shot up to my feet, pulling my top off over my head as I stood.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, looking up at me, and I felt a moment of smug satisfaction that she couldn’t quite bring her gaze all the way to my eyes.

“Oh, come on,” I said tauntingly, tossing my T-shirt to the side and starting on my belt. “As if you didn’t want to go for a swim.”

“I told you I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Wanting and expecting are two different things,” I said with a grin.

“Yeah, well, it’s so unexpected that I didn’t actually bring a swimsuit.”

“What a shame,” I said, shrugging off my shorts so I was in just my pants.

I could feel Amy’s eyes roving over me, and I had to will myself to stay calm lest I give her something to gawk at.

I decided the safest course of action was to actually get in the water so she couldn’t see me at all, so I turned and stepped carefully over to the river’s edge.

I’d expected the water to be cold, but the hot summer sun had warmed it through, and it was a pleasant temperature even as I got deep enough to hide what I needed to hide.

“Come on then,” I called to Amy, who’d followed me to the edge but hadn’t undressed. “Don’t be scared, kiddo. The water’s great.”

I’d long since stopped thinking of Amy as “kiddo”, but I knew it would rile her up.

And I was right; she set her jaw and glared at me for just a moment before she stood and started unbuttoning her denim cutoffs.

She tugged them off over her hips– with an effort I very much enjoyed watching– and they fell to the ground, where she kicked them aside unceremoniously.