Page 32 of The Sun and the Moon

Sydney

Should we stop the scheme?

In the heat of the shower, as steam cocoons me with my thoughts, I can’t stop questioning our whole plan. Which is really fucking annoying because I’m already questioning more than enough at the moment without adding this on top.

But. Fishy as all of this is, I can’t shake the feeling that it may be fishy only because we want it to be. Because Cadence and I are hardened unromantic messes who have degraded our belief in true love so completely that we can’t acknowledge it could happen to anyone for real.

I haven’t seen Rick this happy in a long time was Pam’s assessment of Dad. If he really loves Moira, who am I to stand in the way? After everything he went through with my mom, and then with raising me alone, his assured happiness would be a huge weight off my shoulders.

Maybe even a way for me to start healing a little myself.

When a girl loses a mother before she’s out of training bras, there’s a lot she loses out on.

Stuff no one tells her, teaches her, even knows she needs, because it’s stuff only a mom can know.

Growing up with a mom like Moira, it’s not the same as growing up without a mom entirely, but there is something about the way Cadence holds herself so tight—like someone who hasn’t ever been hugged hard enough, held long enough—that is so familiar to me.

We’re opposites. The Sun and the Moon . But we aren’t that different at our core.

I wonder: If we could stop looking for pain, would it be able to find us after all?

I twist my damp hair into a loose braid and swing it over my shoulder, taking one last look in the mirror. I need to talk to Cadence about this.

I need to tell her I like her. That thought comes crashing out of nowhere, but I can’t reject it, because it’s true. I do like her.

I’ll talk to Cadence. I’ll just tell her all of this.

I may need a drink, too.

I grab my room key and my purse on my way out the door.

She said she was going to the bar, so I trek back through the courtyard that connects our bank of rooms to the lobby.

It’s a gray cobblestone area dotted with seating arrangements, each around its own firepit.

Some of the hotel staff are prepping the space for the evening, fluffing the pillows and setting up the firepits for guests to enjoy.

She may not like me back.

I know she finds me hot. The memory of her lips on mine, her hands gently but firmly gripping my back, is proof alone that the girl wants a taste.

But with all the soulmate mess in her head and the mommy issues in her heart, I don’t know if she’ll be willing to give me more than a taste.

And I don’t even know what I mean when I say that, either.

I just know that I don’t want Ranger Girl to hike out of my life without at least letting me try to figure it out.

I walk through the doors into the lobby, and my eyes search for the way to the bar.

I’m going to tell her I like her even if it makes me desperate to run the other way.

Confidently—at least I hope that’s what I’m giving with my walk—I enter the bar and scan it.

I spot her almost immediately, sitting at a low lounge seat right in front of the bar with two women.

Cadence’s hair is down—I see the hair band she had it tied back with around her wrist—cascading in a swoop over her back like tangled vines.

She’s listening to the blonde with clear interest, but her expression isn’t happy exactly.

She looks like she’s about to cry. Or run.

I approach them, hoping that if I’m interrupting something uncomfortable, she’ll be happy for the help.

But I stop short a few feet from the table.

Sitting on top of the deep chestnut wood is a stack of tarot cards, a soft pink with gold accents.

One is turned upright to face Cadence. I have to strain to get a clear look, but I’m able to make out the words written around the border.

Ten of Cups

I step back, scooting into a booth by the door.

There’s a half-eaten plate of fries and water glass dripping condensation onto the table, but it’s empty.

I swipe open my phone and tap the internet icon to do a quick search for Ten of Cups Tarot .

I tap the first link and scroll down to the description of what it means when the card is upright, since that is the position of the one in front of Cadence.

The Ten of Cups represents the embodiment of happiness, joy, commitment, and fulfillment with your family or your romantic partner.

My head spins with this first sentence, but I force myself to read on.

This is not a card of selfish indulgence or success. It is one where that love is shared with others, an experience that can only come after learning to love oneself, proving that true happiness comes from forming authentic bonds with others.

The lonely girl with the hummingbird out her window pulled a card that represents finding a fulfilling bond?

My eyes snag and stick on one of the final sentences in the description.

This card can indicate that the querent is experiencing a sense of happily ever after—of family, of harmony, and of the truest, deepest love.

My eyes shoot up, across the room to Cadence.

Never have I believed in the power of the cards.

Never have I looked to the Universe for guidance or dreamed of a soulmate kind of love like you hear about in stories.

But looking at her in this gold-infused light, I can imagine it.

For a moment, a breath, it’s almost like I see it.

Her soul and mine intwined in a cosmically coordinated dance.

I pocket my phone and take a deep breath, centering myself before I approach again.

With that tarot card pull and my new, fuller understanding of it, telling her I like her is taking on a whole new meaning.

A bigger meaning, with the heft of a hand of fate that I never really believed in before but am now entertaining more by the day.

But then, I suppose if I was truly honest with myself, it’s not like I’m immune to what is maybe irrational belief.

My pilot superstitions have always felt more normal than not, largely because within the community it’s rare to find a pilot who doesn’t have a preflight ritual at the very least and a whole set of rituals on board at the most.

As I near them again, I see that the blonde has the deck in her hands now. She’s reincorporated the Ten of Cups into the stack and is tucking it away inside her purse.

Her eyes trip to mine, a recognition in them that surprises me.

Cadence twists to see what she’s looking at. Her eyes land first on my hips, then trail up the length of my torso, over my braid. They rest on my lips and then eyes. The whiskey color of her hazel-gold irises shines.

“Hey there,” I say, my voice coming out wobbly, with a rough edge of want that I really wish I could erase. I flick my attention to the couple she’s sitting with. “More old friends?”

“More like new acquaintances,” Cadence says. “Kit and Julia are here for the engagement party.” Cadence looks at them with this pointed tension in her face. It makes me a little self-conscious, like they were talking about me before I arrived.

A thrill zips up my spine at the thought. I know from my reading with Moira that the person who gets the tarot reading—the querent—also comes to the cards with a question they hope to get insight about.

Could I have been what Cadence asked these cards about?

The brunette, Julia, is signing the check as Kit stands, hooking her purse over her shoulder with a smile. She flicks her big green eyes back and forth between Cadence and me, her lips lifting into a quick there-and-gone smile.

“Gotta get changed for the festival,” she says, motioning to her ensemble as if it’s an example of what not to wear. “I have a whole outfit planned.”

“And I am her Instagram boyfriend,” Julia says, closing the leather booklet over the credit card receipt.

“The price you pay for being engaged to an influencer,” Kit says. “As much as I’m hoping it won’t be that way too much longer.” Julia reaches for her hand, clutching it to pull her over for a kiss.

“You can quit anytime,” she says, nuzzling her cheek with her nose.

This public display of affection would normally make me break out in hives.

So much closeness out in the open for everyone to blatantly see, and with such ease.

But with Cadence nearby and that tarot card’s definition swimming in my mind, I find myself wondering what it would be like to be so in love with someone that I can’t resist taking them in my arms no matter who’s looking.

To feel that for someone, truly—that feels like a foreign concept.

I drop down in the seat Julia was just occupying as she and Kit walk away with a “hope to see you there tonight” and a wave.

My eyes find Cadence’s across the table.

I’m debating whether to ask her outright about the card, when she lifts her hand and nods.

I turn to see she’s motioning the waiter and I realize that there are way too many people in this bar for any kind of real conversation.

“They were setting up some firepits outside in the courtyard,” I say, whipping around to face her. “Might be easier to talk there.” The waiter arrives to take our order.

“Can we take our drinks to the courtyard?” she asks with a sly smile.

?With our drinks in hand, we head out of the bar and back in the direction of the courtyard beside our room. We’re not more than a few steps outside the doorway when we hear familiar voices trickling our way from somewhere nearby. I stop Cadence by placing my hand on her forearm.

Dad and Moira . I mouth the words. She nods, eyes shooting in the direction their voices are coming from. It’s definitely rude to eavesdrop, but it also feels a little like a divine gift. If I believed in those, which…wish I was less wobbly on that one than I currently feel.

We edge around the corner to where a tall shrub creates an entrance into another courtyard, likely leading to their room. We have to crouch down to look through the shorter manicured bushes that form the wall around the courtyard.

Moira is sitting on one of the outdoor couches surrounding an already-blazing firepit. Dad drops down beside her and takes her hand gently in his.

“You’re doing everything you can,” he says, bending to try to snag Moira’s eye contact.

“I don’t know if it’s enough,” Moira says with a sniffle.

Is she crying ?

I flick a glance toward Cadence to see that she has gone stiff beside me. Rigid as stone.

“I can tell when she looks at me, she’s not really seeing me now,” Moira continues, the distress in her voice making it brittle and unfamiliar. All that robust bravado I’ve gotten used to hearing in it doesn’t come through right now.

“She will, though. She came here, didn’t she? Just like you hoped,” Dad tells her. He brings one of his hands to her cheek, where he brushes away what appears to be a tear.

“She did,” Moira replies, finally looking up into Dad’s eyes.

“My everything,” Dad says, as if it’s a term of endearment. Moira’s frown momentarily lifts. “This is the beginning of a new chapter for all of us. Don’t give up.”

He presses a kiss to Moira’s lips.

“Oh God,” I whisper. Cadence is already scurrying away, keeping low to the ground as she rounds the corner.

“How did I get so lucky?” Dad says.

“You didn’t,” Moira says. “You got exactly what you were fated.”

Their cackles follow me away.