Play Nice

A Strange Morning

Ross wasn't overly religious. He assumed there might be a god, but never pushed either way. He was understanding and accepting of different religions, and he liked to think he was very tolerant of new cultures and ideals. However, when Lucy woke before him and started reading tarot cards on the bed, he wasn't sure how to handle it. "What 'cha got there?" he asked, sleepily.

"I'm reading how my day might go," she answered, "so I can prepare." She laid out the last card from the thick deck in her hand, now staring at three seperate cards. Then, she paused. She looked over at Ross with wide concerned eyes. "Do you not want me to do this?"

Ross shook his head. "No, I mean, I just never saw anything like this," he explained, hugging her from behind. He looked down at the cards: a heart with three swords stabbed into it, a lovely man-woman couple dancing, and a man lugging seven swords. "What does it all mean?" he asked.

"I asked how Frankie was, and this was what I was told," she said, pointing to the cards as she explained. "The three of swords is miscommunication or misunderstanding, the seven of swords is theft or deceit, and the lovers are self-explanatory."

Ross looked at Lucy. "Why do you want to know how that asshole is?"

"Curiosity, concern, I guess a bit of me hoped we could have stayed friends," she said, "I might really be dumber than I thought."

"So," Ross asked, "what does it all mean for him?"

"I think it's more for me," Lucy said, "When we were lovers, he lied a lot and passed it off as me being too dumb to understand what he wanted or was talking about. Maybe I was, but he didn't bother to help me understand."

Ross rested his chin on her shoulder. He looked up to the side of her face, her profile glowing in the early morning sun through the gaps in the curtains. "Don't say that," he begged, "I think you're wonderful and smart and all that."

She smiled, shuffling the deck once again. "Should I do you next?" She tapped the deck of cards to even out the cards, creating a neatly organized deck in her hand. Then, she laid out a card with a disembodied hand holding a stick, a card with a lonely black cloaked person surrounded with five cups, and a man carrying a bunch of sticks, ten of them. "It looks like you're going to have a new action or idea, a new responsibility, and some type of loss or despair," she pointed.

Ross kissed her cheek. "I hope I don't lose you," he said.

"I hope I'm not your ten of wands," she frowned. Then, she gathered her cards and shuffled her deck once again. Then, she placed three cards, ace of cups, two of cups, and four of swords. "Apparently, I'm going to have some R-and-R time while I fall in love, again."

"Is that a bad thing?" Ross asked, hugging onto her again, his legs wrapping around to make a basket of his legs for her to settle into. He was hopeful that her answer would be positive. He wanted to rub his hands on her body while she told him how much she loved him, but instead he waited while she phrased her feelings.

"I guess at this point, I see what love is to me, and what it is to other people," she said, just above a whisper, "And I don't want much more to do with it anymore."

Ross could feel his heart twist in his chest. Did last night mean nothing? Was her kisses disingenuous? Were there no feelings on her half?

"I don't see a reason to fall back in love," she said, gathering her cards back into the neat deck and setting them down on her dresser. She looked over at Ross with pride and love in her eyes. "Everything is great with you. If I fell in love with you, then you'd turn into an asshole, like everyone else," she sang cheerily, "and I'd really rather you stay your genuine, nice, sweet, wonderful self."

Ross knew that whatever happened now, he needed to have her all to himself, and he needed to find a way to show her that he could still love her, and have her love him, all without him turning into an asshole.