Ethan sighs. The guy is covering all bases. He may as well just tell him straight. “It’s just that a psychic on a plane told me I was going to die soon.”
Luca raises an eyebrow. “Psychic on a plane! Makes me think of that movie. What is it?” He snaps his fingers. “Snakes on a Plane.” He chuckles again. “Hilarious.”
“Ha ha.”
“Do you have any health challenges?” asks Luca.
“No,” says Ethan. “She said I would die in a fight.”
Luca scrutinizes Ethan. Is he checking out his physique? Ethan subtly flexes his muscles the way he did in school photos.
Luca says, “You don’t have the aura of someone who gets in fights very often.”
It never worked in the school photos either. “So you think she’s wrong?”
“I don’t believe anything is preordained,” says Luca.
“You don’t?” What is the actual point of you, then? “You don’t believe in fate?”
“To a degree, but I can’t say: ‘This is definitely your future.’ Why? Because the moment I do, you change your behavior. You’re no longer the same person you were a moment before. See the logic? So—all I can do is interpret the cards to help you see possible paths.”
“Right,” says Ethan.
Luca says, “Tell me: has a loved one recently passed?”
“Not so much a loved one,” says Ethan. “A friend. I mean, I guess…yes, a loved one.”
“I’m very sorry.” There is genuine sympathy in Luca’s bright blue eyes. It feels like a human moment, as if he’s letting Ethan see the real person behind this charade.
Ethan follows his gaze to a ceiling so badly cracked it looks like the aftermath of an earthquake.
“Your friend had a special laugh. Unusual. A laugh that made other people laugh.”
“He did,” breathes Ethan. His voice breaks as he thinks of that absurd silent wheezy laugh he’ll never witness again. “He really did.”
(But maybe everyone thinks their friends have special laughs?)
Luca says, “Your friend is here. He’s with you.”
“Is he?” Ethan looks over his shoulder. Shouldn’t Harvey be with his mum and dad and hot sister?
“Of course he is, and he says, Have faith. He keeps talking about faith.”
“Really?” Ethan doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism. There’s a lot he could do with seventy-five dollars. Have faith? That doesn’t sound like Harvey. Harvey had faith in nothing.
Luca puts his head on one side like he has a crick in his neck. He closes his eyes. Ethan shifts in his seat.
Finally Luca speaks. “Harvey says, ‘Guys like us always wait too long to make the first move.’ ”
Ethan startles. The blood rushes from his face. Guys like us. Does Harvey mean he should make the first move with Jasmine? He always said, “In your dreams, mate,” whenever Ethan mentioned her name. Was Harvey nicer now he was dead? Could he see from his otherworldly vantage point that Ethan and Jasmine actually had a future?
“He says, he’ll enjoy watching you crash and burn, mate, but…”
“But what?”
Luca opens his eyes and grins wickedly. “But maybe you won’t, Jason Bourne, maybe you won’t.”
Chapter 38
People are always intrigued when they learn my mother was a fortune teller.
Like Clark Kent racing into a phone booth and emerging as Superman, she closed her bedroom door and emerged as “Madame Mae.”
Sometimes, in a social situation, a friend will suggest I tell other guests about Madame Mae and I will think, Wait. Is this why I was invited? Am I the entertainment? Is my mother the most interesting thing about me?
Possibly.
That’s how it happened at that dinner party in 1984.
—
We broke into spontaneous applause when our hostess placed an extravagant multilayered lopsided concoction of chocolate flakes, cream, and sour cherries on the table. “It’s a German Black Forest cake,” she said tremulously. I seem to recall someone, I hope it wasn’t me, attempting to amuse by responding in a poor German accent.
Look, it may well have been me.
We all make comments we regret at dinner parties.
The dessert was a triumph. I would go so far as to say it was a defining moment in our hostess’s life. It became her signature dish. I have eaten it many times since then. Her eulogy will undoubtedly reference it.
