I cock my head to the side. “Is that what you see in my future?”
“No. You are young and beautiful. Some things are simply obvious.”
Right, but she does not know my past. She does not know what I’m running away from. If she knew, she might not be so optimistic about my future.
The thought of what I left behind makes Greta’s delicious lunch churn in my stomach. I should not be sitting here chit chatting with an old woman. I’ve got to get back on the road. I look down at my watch. “I should check in with Nick. Maybe the plow has arrived.”
“No. It has not.”
“But maybe—”
“I am able to hear the plow through my window. Trust me—it has not arrived.”
I wipe my hands on my jeans and get to my feet. “I better get going anyway. But… thank you for lunch. Would you like me to bring the plates downstairs to the kitchen?”
“No, please don’t bother yourself. Nick will fetch them later.” She arches an eyebrow. “Are you sure you will not let me read your fortune?”
I hesitate. It was a firm no before, but I’ve gotten to know Greta. I like her. And she seems to really want to do this. So why not? It’s better than sitting around my room, pacing back-and-forth as I wait for the plow to arrive.
“Okay,” I say. “Sure. Go for it.”
Greta smiles at me. “You will not regret this.”
That remains to be seen.
She dims the yellow lamp by her bed. And now the room is strictly mood lighting. I am sitting beside her on the bed, and she takes my hands in hers. Her skin feels so delicate, like tissue paper.
“Relax your mind,” she instructs me.
“How do I relax my mind?”
“Clear out all thoughts. Make your mind blank.”
Easier said than done. “Okay…”
She closes her eyes, but I keep mine open. She tilts her head back and her eyelids flutter. “Yes. You are very accessible to read. You are an open book.”
Oh. Wonderful.
“I see…” Her eyelids flutter again. “There is a man in your past. A very handsome man.”
“Yes…” I’m not impressed quite yet. There are plenty of handsome men out there.
“Yes, yes…” Her fingers apply pressure to mine. “He was somebody you loved, but you don’t love him anymore. He is…”
My breath catches in my throat, and I’m suddenly hanging on her every word.
“You are frightened of this man.” Her eyes crack open. “You feel he means to bring you harm.”
I swallow. “Well…”
“But the question is,” she goes on, “will he? What lies in the future for you and the handsome man?”
The pressure of her fingers on mine grows uncomfortable. I want to pull my hands away but I don't dare break the spell.
Suddenly, she lets go of my hands and jumps away from me, like I’m made of fire. Her eyes fly open. “You must go!”
“What?” I stare at her uneasily. “What are you talking about?”