In the Cards
Companion/Prequel piece to Again. (Sorry this one's in past tense and Again is in present tense. This one sort of wrote itself that way before I even realized they were going to be interrelated.) Written as part of the Closer Fic Fest but posting early because next week will be busy. Not my characters; please don't sue.
Brenda hated parties like this one. She cast her gaze around the room, eyeing the former governors, current Senators, distinguished cops, bureau members, and socialites from every corner of D.C. All of them colluded in a level of pretension and haughtiness the likes of which she had no stomach for.
It reminded her of teenage girlhood when her mother would dress her up in some itchy, ill-fitting party dress and drag her along to social events that Clay refused to attend. All under the guise of "introducing her to society" and bringing a little "culture" to her young life. Compared to this party, the Georgia to-dos of her youth had much more pomp and far less circumstance. They were about equal in high-headedness.
She looked around the room, most of the faces unfamiliar to her, and felt just as small as she did when she was fifteen. The sensation of insignificance was joined by irritation as she watched Fritz pander from across the room.
But it wasn't just the party. It was the whole city. Every other street was filled with uncomfortable settings and details that leapt out of her memory with gnashing jaws. She'd forgotten a part of herself here. She'd cut it out and left it behind and it was not a part that she wanted to remember.
When she had started fresh with L.A. and then Fritz, it had felt like a real chance. Returning now to where she'd fallen into bed with Will Pope was somehow worse than being in the same city as the man himself. And she was starting to resent Fritz for encouraging their move here.
She took one last long look at her husband and then edged past the other guests out of the room to explore the house. In the adjacent room she found some empty glasses positioned around several bottles of wine. She reached for the closest Merlot and poured herself a half-glass.
Drink in hand, she wandered into the massive home, drawing further and further away from party until she found herself stepping into the kitchen.
There, at the kitchen table, was a small girl seated alone. Her hair was in a sleek, brown bob and she wore purple glasses – too large for her face. She was intently focused on a deck of cards she had strewn about the table, but they weren't like any playing cards Brenda had ever seen.
As she stepped closer, she noticed that each of the cards had fantastical, bright imagery across their faces. They weren't playing cards, but tarot cards. Or, as her father used to call them, "psychic claptrap mumbo-jumbo." To the little girl, they must have held some significance. She was lording over them like sacred objects.
"Hi there," Brenda said as the girl's head flinched, the only proof that she'd acknowledged her presence.
"Hi." The girl said. She began to shuffle the cards back together, hiding them from Brenda's prying eyes.
"My name's Brenda – what's yers?"
The little girl kept drawing her cards into a neat pile. She glanced up at Brenda, over the rims of her glasses, her face stoic. Brenda felt as though she'd just sworn in church.
"Hope I'm not botherin' you," Brenda added for good measure. Figured that she would find the only soul at the party she felt like she could relate to and it was a little girl that had no interest in talking.
The girl seemed to consider this, pursing her lips and moving them this way and that. "No, it's okay. I just don't usually see many of the grown-ups in here when the party's still going on."
Brenda set her wine down on the counter and walked around to the kitchen table to sit across from her new-found company. "Well I'm not much the partyin' kind, to tell you the truth."
The little girl looked down at her cards in her hands. "Me neither." She hesitated and then looked up at Brenda. "My name's Dot."
Brenda smiled at her. "Nice to meet you, Dot."
Dot chewed her bottom lip and looked down at her cards again. "Do you want me to read your fortune?"
"I noticed you have a real pretty deck of cards – that'd be very nice of you. Are you a real psychic?" Brenda asked with extra awe in her voice.
Dot shook her head. "My Uncle Bill says there aren't real psychics."
Brenda had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. God forbid a child have a little sense of wonder before the world snatched it away. But then maybe that was almost impossible now that anyone could debunk something with a moment's web search.
Brenda leaned in conspiratorially. "And what do you think?"
Dot looked up at her guest and smirked. "I think sometimes grown-ups don't know what they're talking about."
Brenda had to suppress a cackle at that; her grin widened. "I think you're absolutely right." Brenda folded her hands and set them on the table. "So how does this work?"
Dot began to shuffle the cards – which were really a bit too large for her small hands. She breathed deeply.
"First close your eyes and think of your happy place." Dot instructed.
Brenda did so. Or at least tried. She wasn't exactly sure what her "happy place" was supposed to look like. She tried to imagine a beach, but then couldn't get the sensation of sand in her drawers out of her mind. She moved on to picture her home with Fritz. But the new place in D.C. hadn't felt like home at all since they'd moved. She was just about to create a new mental picture when Dot interrupted.
"Did you think of it yet?"
Brenda opened one eye to look at the girl's incredulous expression. "It's harder than it sounds."
Dot sighed and slumped in her chair. "Just try to think of someplace that makes you feel safe."
Brenda shut her eye again and the first place that came to mind was, oddly enough, her old office. She tried not to think about what that said about her.
"Okay – now what?"
Brenda felt a small hand grab one of her own and place it on the deck of cards.
"Now try to put that feeling in your hand and then in the cards." Dot said.
The blonde smiled, her eyes still closed. She tried her very best to play along even though it all felt rather silly. She'd never been much for mysticism, but it was far more entertaining than the party she'd left behind.
"Good." Dot said. "Now open your eyes and cut the deck."
Brenda did as she was told and watched as Dot took a card from the top of each half of the deck and placed them in front of her face down. She put her hand on the card on Brenda's left.
"This is step 1." Dot flipped the card over. Brenda's smile faltered. The image she saw on the card was a skeleton, albeit one that was brightly adorned with a tattered purple cape and feathered crown. It held a scythe in its right hand and seemed to be dancing in midair, an ethereal glow about its bones. The word at the bottom of the card read, "Death."
Dot peered up into the woman's eyes and smiled. "Don't worry. People always think this one's a bad one. But it just means change."
"Oh?" Brenda said. "Well I have been through a lot of change recently. So I s'ppose that makes sense." She forced a meager smile.
Dot shook her head emphatically. "Not change that already happened, something you need to change."
"What kind of change?" Brenda asked.
"Not sure." Dot said. "But it's a big one."
Brenda smirked. "All right. If that's step 1, then what's step 2?"
Dot smiled back and flipped the second card. The card featured a man in multi-coloured garb in various bizarre patterns. He was reaching for a butterfly and at his feet was the edge of a cliff. At the bottom of the card read, "The Fool."
"I don't think your cards like me very much, Dot." Brenda pouted.
Dot smiled again. "This one's good too! It means you have a new journey ahead – like an adventure."
Brenda pointed to the card. "Then why's he about to walk off a cliff?"
Dot pushed the card towards Brenda. "Because it can be scary to do something different. But he isn't scared. He's telling you that you don't have to be either."
"Ahhh, I see." Brenda said as she picked both cards up and looked at them. "So a big change and a new journey – that's awfully optimistic."
Dot nodded and then quirked her head. "Do you want me to do another one?"
Before Brenda could reply, the door closest to them opened. A woman in a clean, white dress and an almost identical haircut to Dot stepped through.
"Oh! Dot, it looks like you've made a new friend."
"Her name's Brenda." Dot said.
Brenda put her cards down and stood a little awkwardly. She offered her hand to the woman. "Brenda Leigh Johnson." She said.
"Rachel Keane." The woman replied. She sized Brenda up as she shook her hand. "You must belong to Fritz."
Brenda bit down a retort that she didn't "belong" to anyone. Instead she just smiled broadly and nodded.
"He mentioned you were around here somewhere. Spoke very highly of you." Rachel said.
"Glad to hear my reputation is precedin' me." Brenda said. "Works better that way."
Rachel laughed: a shrill, forced thing that made Brenda wince in spite of herself.
"He said you were charming. And that accent! Just delightful."
Brenda shifted on her feet, feeling the sudden urge to flee. Rachel appraised the awkwardness and turned to Dot.
"Honey, would you come along for a moment? The guests are very interested to meet you!"
Dot had carefully shuffled the cards together and put a rubber band around them. She pocketed them and stood as if being shuffled off in a death march.
"Okay." She said, then took her mother's outstretched hand.
Rachel took one last up-and-down look at Brenda. "It was so nice to meet you."
"And you." Brenda said. She reached a hand out to Dot. "And most excellent to meet you, Dot."
Dot took the proffered hand and shook it with a smile. "Thanks, Brenda. Good luck on your adventure."
Brenda watched the pair depart. She looked back down at the table where her glass of wine stood. No more cards spread across the surface, no more life in the room.
Brenda was quiet the whole way home. Fritz already seemed to know the streets better than she ever did, diverting this way and that around traffic.
"You could have told me you were going to disappear." He said.
Brenda leaned her head against the window. "I didn't think you'd notice.
Later that night, she found she couldn't sleep. She tossed in bed for a while before she finally got up and tiptoed out of their bedroom into the den. She sat down in front of the computer and listlessly checked her emails for a while before opening a browser window.
She bit her lip. She typed in "Death tarot meaning" into the search bar and clicked the first link. She read:
"Death is symbolic of the ending of a major phase or aspect of your life that may bring about the beginning of something far more valuable and important. You must close one door in order to open another. Death teaches you to let go of outworn and outgrown ways of life and move forward."
She thought about her life. About where she was and where she wanted to be. She thought about what she'd already left behind and what she'd hated to leave.
She thought about a particular place. A condo in LA she'd spent more time at than a married woman should. A pair of arms that made her feel safe.
She typed another term into the search bar of the same site: "The Fool."
"The Fool Tarot card may represent a choice to be made—one of vital importance. Take a chance and see what happens."
She scrolled the page a bit. She still hadn't found a job. She'd tried the one Fritz had recommended her for for about a month. And then she'd felt it was too stagnant and quit on a whim. She still hadn't heard the end of that argument.
She just felt pushed. Away from the life she'd been making in LA. Away from the familiarity of a place she'd grown to like. And maybe she was supposed to learn something from this new change, this new-old place, this new version of what her life was supposed to be. But instead of learning she only felt more uncomfortable and unhappy as the days wore on.
She heard a light snore from Fritz drift in from the other room.
She wanted to be happy. She wanted to be fearless again, willing to make a change, to pack up and go in the direction that she wanted her life to go.
She shut down the computer and looked at the bedroom door. She turned and headed for the couch, curling up under a blanket until she fell asleep.
"Brenda are you okay?"
Fritz's voice broke her out of her reverie.
It had been two weeks since the party. She had been regularly falling asleep on the couch after sneaking out of bed late at night. She'd been missing meals at home, taking long drives around town. Not to mention she hadn't been looking for a job at all. Fritz had every right to be concerned.
Still, Brenda resented him for it. Couldn't he just know what she wanted to say to save her the breath of saying it?
She met his eyes across the dinner table.
"I think you already know the answer to that." She said.
He put his fork down and stared at his plate. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"You know I tried, right?" She hated how weak she sounded.
Fritz gritted his teeth a moment before relaxing. He sighed.
"I guess I thought a change of scenery might help." He chuckled darkly. "Only served to make it clear as day."
Brenda looked at the man she'd loved – really looked – and noticed that he appeared as exhausted as she felt. She hated what she'd done to him. But she knew she had to be honest. For once.
"I wanted to tell you a long time ago. I think you knew."
"I did. I just didn't want to believe it." Fritz said.
"It just happened so quickly and I had no idea that I'd feel this… this strongly, I guess."
"How many times?" Fritz asked.
Brenda shook her head. "It wasn't about that."
Fritz finally lifted his head to look at his wife. "Do you love her?"
Brenda blinked, her mouth hung open. "What?"
"Are you in love with Sharon?"
Brenda's mouth went dry as she searched for the words; her mind whirred only with questions.
Fritz swallowed hard. He picked up his dishes and Brenda's, confident they were not going to eat anymore, and took the dishes to the garbage bin to scrape the food away. He had just deposited the dishes in the sink when Brenda spoke up.
"Yes."
He put his hands on the edge of the sink and squeezed. He turned to face her.
Brenda met his gaze. "I do love her."
He looked down and nodded. "Then I guess your mind's already made up. Now the rest of you just needs to follow through."
He left the room before she could respond, but she called after him anyway.
"Fritz! Fritz, wait!" She bolted from her chair in pursuit and found him standing still in the doorway of the bedroom – their bedroom.
He turned to face her again, his expression full of defeat.
"I didn't mean… I never meant for this to happen. Really." The words sounded dull, even to her.
"No one ever means to, Brenda." Fritz said. "It just happens."
A/N: The prompt I chose was #21: Tarot. And I had no idea it was going to be an angst fest when I chose it. I was thinking something light and fluffy but apparently I was not feeling very fluffy. So this is what happened. Reviews are love! Thank you for reading!