Eight

Journal

On the third day of her self-imposed solitary confinement, Carla sported pink semicircles under her eyes, a dead giveaway of anxiety and lack of sleep. When her doorbell rang, she sat up from her slump on the sofa, hoping Jess had finally shown up to apologize. A glimpse of her gran’s ample shape through the patterned glass told her otherwise.

“Bacon hot pot,” Lucinda called out as a greeting, offering Carla a casserole dish. “I heard you two girls had a disagreement. Are you really sick, or are you hiding?”

Carla let out a sigh and opened the door farther. “Both.”

They headed to the kitchen, where Lucinda set the dish down on the countertop. “Jess said Myrtle’s reading has made you all nitpicky.”

“It’s not just about the reading,” Carla snapped then regretted it. “Sorry, Gran. There are other things, too.” She threw herself into a chair.

Lucinda surveyed her. “I’ll pop this in the oven, and you can tell me all about it.”

Carla’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten properly and she loved her gran’s cooking. There was nothing better than thin layers of potato, onion and bacon, cooked until crispy.

“Now, honey, care to share what’s been going on?” Lucinda asked, eyeing the travel journal that lay open on the dining table.

Myrtle’s predictions had continued to balloon in Carla’s head, on the verge of bursting. She glanced at her phone, knowing a recording of the fortune teller’s words remained there. She really hoped they were hogwash, but was increasingly unsure. “I hoped you wouldn’t ask me...”

Lucinda rolled her eyes. “Fat chance of that.”

Carla reluctantly picked up her phone and cradled it in her hands. She found the voice recording and pressed the play button. “Okay, you wanted to hear this...”

The two women leaned forward and Lucinda cocked her head.

Carla listened to Myrtle’s descriptions of the six tarot cards more intently this time, with the color draining from her cheeks. Each supposedly related to a man from her past.

“Good heavens,” Lucinda said when the recording ended. “That’s some proclamation. I don’t think Myrtle’s trying to irk you, though. She’s been helping people for many years.”

“Help isn’t the word I’d use. Look, I know Mimi loves spinning a yarn about our family curse, but you and Granddad were so perfect together. I thought Tom and I were, too, but now everything feels...foggy. Your marriage proves the jinx is nonsense, so why can’t our family draw a line under it and move on? Jess wants to meet someone special and needs to be sure of her choices, too. I don’t want her living in the shadow of some weird family legend.”

Lucinda smiled tightly. She raised her cup to her lips but didn’t drink. “Ted and I were happy,” she agreed. “But our marriage wasn’t exactly the one I wanted, the one people thought it was...” She let her words drift away.

Carla frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Your granddad and I were a great team. Heck, I even became pregnant on our honeymoon. But after your mum came along, our relationship changed. A lot.”

Carla’s insides tightened, like a corset lacing together. “Granddad idolized you. I remember his eyes shining when he looked at you. You held hands wherever you went.”

“Yes, I loved that about him.” Lucinda smiled and her eyes grew misty. “And I was proud of him, too. We were close in many ways, but not in others. We probably weren’t the right, um, romantic fit.”

“Oh.” Carla felt her cheeks growing hot. “Are you saying that—”

“Ted was my best friend and we were devoted to each other,” Lucinda cut in firmly. “We loved each other in most senses of the word, if not others. We had a long and successful marriage and, in our day, you just got on with things. Would I say I was unlucky in love, like our family curse states?” She took a long while to consider this. “In terms of passion, I’d say that I was.”

Carla felt a great weight settle upon her at the realization that a marriage she’d idolized her entire life may not have been so perfect after all. Above all, she hated that her gran had compromised her own desires. “Oh, Gran...”

Lucinda waved her words away. “Nothing for you to get all sorrowful about,” she said, standing up from her seat. “I’ll get that hot pot out of the oven. We don’t want to eat burnt potatoes, do we? It was Ted’s favorite meal and I miss making it for the old fella.”

Carla stared after her, her mouth downturned. She knew she’d struggle to eat when the casserole dish arrived on the table and she suddenly, urgently, wanted to know her gran had been loved in a way she’d truly wanted. “Was there ever anyone else, before Granddad?” she asked tentatively.

A flush rose up Lucinda’s neck, reaching her chin. “Oh, my.” A smile gave her face a brief girlish appearance and she set down her fork. “Only once before.”

“Who was he?”

Lucinda shook her head, but then her lips parted, unable to hold on to a secret. “When I was nineteen, I spent four weeks in Spain with a friend of mine. We used to go to a tapas restaurant and order the cheapest things off the menu, just so we could sneak a peek at the gorgeous waiters, brothers Juan and Carlos. After they’d finished work, we shared sangria and Manzanillo olives with them. We walked and talked on the beach until the sun rose the next morning.” She let out a dreamy sigh.

“When Juan kissed me, I felt like I’d touched an electric eel. Zap. My whole body went all tingly.” Lucinda shimmied her shoulders. “Ah, but we were young and lived in different countries. I told myself it was a holiday romance, nothing more. Though, sometimes, when I was with Ted, feeling all plain, I couldn’t help but wonder if Juan would have been a better fit for me. It made me feel ever so silly and guilty, thinking that way.”

“It’s not silly at all.” Carla sat back in her chair, dismayed she no longer knew of any marriages in her family she could aspire to. The weight of expectation for hers and Tom’s to be the first to work out was growing even greater.

“Do things feel electric when you’re with Tom?” Lucinda’s eyes flickered, embarrassed yet hopeful.

“Yes, of course,” Carla replied quickly, though she had to admit her feelings for him were more like the gentle hum of a cat’s purr rather than a bolt of lightning. Regardless, she was sure she’d have been attracted to Tom if she’d met him through sheer chance.

“Well, there’s your answer, no matter what any database or Myrtle says.” Lucinda paused and nodded to herself. She ran her tongue across her lips. “Unless...”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you want to make absolutely sure.”

Carla swallowed at the use of that word. Absolutely meant unequivocally and unquestionably. Even with algorithms, there were no complete certainties. “I can’t go rushing off overseas to trace men from my past, if that’s what you’re...” She paused, astonished she’d predicted what her gran had been about to suggest.

An understanding look passed between the two women.

Lucinda raised her eyebrow. “You went traveling before, for a full year.”

“That was ages ago, when I was single.” Carla tossed her hair and wished that she’d washed it.

Lucinda pulled the journal toward her and looked at Carla’s photos of Barcelona. “I know someone who lives not far from there. Babs always sends me Christmas cards and invites me to visit. I’m sure you’d be welcome, too.”

“I can’t just run off and leave the business...”

“You’ve got me and Jess to help.”

Carla dug her fingernails into her palm. “I’ve got you,” she corrected. Her jaw clenched when she thought about the issues with her sister. The idea of traveling was like a puzzle in her head with the pieces not fitting together. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s as easy as you make it, honey. You once embraced adventure—”

“Until I met Aaron...”

“You can’t blame him for all the ills in the world.”

She lowered her eyes. “No, just the majority of them.” Her love for her ex-husband had been like a stories-high waterfall, a bass drum booming, a New Year’s firework display. She had never since experienced the same extreme highs and lows, before or after him.

Lucinda set down her fork. “You have to follow your gut instinct. What is it telling you?”