Page 193 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
My breath caught at the mention of Margaret’s name, the way it slipped off Rachel’s lips so calmly yet so full of awe.
“You knew her?” I asked nervously, running my damp palms along my shorts.
Rachel let out a laugh that trembled through her. “Knew her? The woman nearly scared the life out of me. I’ve thought about the day I met her so often… I play it back over and over in my mind.”
My heart rattled in my chest, and Liv—who had been hovering—stared between me and her mother, looking perplexed. “How does my mother know your grandmother?”
Rachel cleared her throat and set the cards down as if she were handling important evidence. The Judgment card lay faceup, the red stain as prominent as ever. Crossing her arms, she leaned back in her chair.
“I met Margaret the summer I was pregnant with Liv,” Rachel said slowly. “Well, I was very, very pregnant. Overdue pregnant. I was miserable and angry, so some friends dragged me down to the Santa Monica pier for some fun, and to see if we could walk Liv out of me.” A faint smile danced on her lips. “It was so busy that day—it only served to make memoreirate. Imagine me waddling down the pier, pushing through crowds of people. My friends quickly abandoned me for the attractions I couldn’t go on, so I ended up carrying handbags and everything else.”
Rachel clicked her tongue and sighed.
“I needed a break. I found a bench and sat myself down, and I just remember staring out over the water, feeling Liv kicking inside me, and for maybe half a second that day, I felt peace. True peace. I mean, it wasn’t just the pregnancy wearing me down.” Rachel once more toyed with her pendant. “Liv’s father—he’d always been depressed. He was worse during the pregnancy, and I was exhausted. Part of me just wanted to stay in that moment forever on the pier, on that bench.”
I glanced at Ellis, still feeling like I couldn’t breathe, as she leaned forward, listening with her whole body.
“This flapping sound began to ring in my ears, and I remember seeing this shabby-looking blue tent with a hand-painted sign in front of it. Tarot and Medium—$5. I don’t… I don’t really know what possessed me to get up and go over to it.” Rachel pursed her lips, her eyes far away. “Maybe I wanted some answers. I was about to be a new mom, my boyfriend was at best flaky—obviously he had mental health issues, and that wasn’t his fault, but he never wanted help—and I just wanted to know if I’d be okay, I guess. Ifwewould be okay.”
Rachel’s eyes darkened for a moment.
“So, I went inside. A woman sat behind a table draped in red velvet with a deck spread before her—that deck there. Shelooked middle-aged. Wise, I guess. She had long, dark hair and a friendly-enough face. I found myself sitting down when she waved her hand toward the seat.”
I could hear my heart beating in my ears as she spoke, and I felt Ellis’s eyes darting between us.
“I felt like when she looked at me, she could see through me,” Rachel said. “And she just knew things no stranger could know about me. She told me she knew I was carrying a daughter. She told me my boyfriend was drowning in his depression, and that his life of despair would take him before his time was truly up.”
Her voice caught as she spoke of Liv’s dad, and Liv watched her mother with wide eyes before glancing back at Dove and then the deck of cards.
“And then she said to me—she—she looked me right in the eye and told me I had a gift, and that I needed to learn how to use it.” Rachel shook her head and swallowed. “If I didn’t, I would hurt the people I loved most.”
Her gaze dropped to her hands, and I realized she had unconsciously pressed them against her stomach—against the ghost of the swell that had once carried Liv.
“You’ll hurt that one in there,” Rachel said, her voice almost an echo of Margaret’s words. “I knew what gift she was talking about. I had experienced strange things from a young age, but my parents refused to talk about it, and I didn’t dare bring it up. I was so angry that day, and her words, for whatever reason, just sent me over the edge. I thought she was being cruel. When I tried to shove the cards off the table, I cut my hand on an old nail sticking up through the velvet, and I bled everywhere. Right on that table, and on this card.”
Rachel leaned forward and tapped the Judgment card once.
“I ran before she could stop me,” Rachel said. “Well, waddled and ran. I never looked back. Then I went into labor an hour later.”
The room spun around me as my throat closed up. I stared at the card I had always assumed was one of Margaret’s little white lies. Ketchup paraded as blood. That faint, stubborn rust-brown stain was real. It was Rachel’s. And, in a sense, it was Liv’s.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“I’ll say,” Liv added, her voice a little breathy.
“Everything she said came true,” Rachel said, rubbing her nose. “Liv was a girl—I already knew that—but her father left too soon. And I hurt Liv, because I didn’t learn what to do with the gift.”
Ellis sat frozen beside me, her eyes locking on mine for a beat before Rachel’s voice pulled us back.
“I have a photo from that day, actually,” she said, pushing to her feet. “I stumbled across it the other night. Funny this should all be coming up now.” She shuffled to a small wooden box on a sideboard, popped it open, and rifled through until she pulled out a rectangular photograph. Closing the box, she returned and handed it to me.
I took it gingerly, studying the picture.
“My friends and I snapped the shot before they all deserted me to go have fun—and made me their personal bag rack,” Rachel said with a roll of her eyes.
“Mom always did have shit friends,” Liv muttered.
Ellis and I studied the photograph, the image sun-faded with age. Rachel stood in the foreground, far younger, her hair still dark and long. Her hand rested across her swollen bump, and several other women stood around her, smiling and posing, arms flung wide as if they were doing something outrageous.
