do that right now, Tues.” The suggestion hit a nerve. Tuesday reading tea leaves was one thing. She always got a positive hit. But these other things Tuesday was into spooked her. Probably because sometimes they hit the mark.
“Look, babe, this is just to find a lost object. The most common use for a pendulum. We won’t go near your love life. It won’t be like last time. Come on, this is harmless.”
Olivia was caving, but reluctantly. “None of your stuff is harmless, Tues. Remember the time you read the Tarot for me and my cat died?”
Tuesday rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? The cards didn’t kill your cat. They just foresaw a loss and helped you prepare for it.”
“Yeah. For three weeks I was walking on eggshells waiting for something awful to happen.”
“If you’d followed my advice, you would have let go of the reading, but instead you obsessed on it. It was a lesson in detachment. Look at all the stuff you have.” Tuesday swept her arms around to include the showroom and the rest of the house. “Possess it. Don’t let it possess you.”
“Like you let go of your 20,000 thrift store scarves.” But then, Olivia’s last objection faded. Sometimes it was easier to give in to Tuesday than to fight her. “I’ll get my locket.”
Tuesday went over the rules for divination with a pendulum, even though Olivia had done this with her dozens of times.
“Okay. Nobody has touched this locket in the past 24 hours, right?”
“Check.”
“Good. We don’t want anyone else’s energy contaminating the answers. Now remember, ask only yes or no questions. If it swings left to right that’s a no answer. Backwards and forwards is a yes. Circular moves mean your higher self knows the answer but won’t reveal it.”
Olivia never admitted to her friends that she believed in Tuesday’s shenanigans, just that she liked to humor her. Tuesday was her best friend, yet no one else in her circle accepted her. She hadn’t gone to the right school. And those hideous clothes. But Olivia and Tuesday cemented their bond the night they had too much champagne and shared their mother stories. Olivia’s was typical. Her mother was a gold digger and social climber and groomed Olivia to find a rich husband. She insisted her future home contain a separate residence for her in her old age. She saw Olivia’s career leading her to the rich and famous, or at best, the cover of Architectural Digest. She never appreciated her daughter’s talent. Her grandmother was almost as cold but recognized Olivia’s true gifts. Her encouragement balanced the insecurities borne of her mother’s criticism of her looks. Why won’t you do something about that nose? Get a boob job. You make enough money for plastic surgery. Just your luck that men like short girls. Her grandmother, however, preached that there’s only one thing we owe to the world, dear, and that’s the fruit of our gifts. And you have them in abundance.
By comparison, Tuesday’s mother kept herself blissfully medicated and determinedly unwed. When she asked her mother at a young age about her father, the answer shocked her so much Tuesday never asked again. Well, he could have been one of three jerks. Maybe five. Whoever he was, you don’t want anything to do with him. They subsisted alternately on food stamps and mysterious infusions of cash that her mother never explained, but Tuesday came to believe were from drug deals. Her goal in life was to rise above all that and saw the occult as a spiritual path. The idea of unseen spirits watching over her got her through the day.
“Okay,” Olivia asked. “But what’s a yes or no question this time? I want it to tell me where the netsuke are.”
Tuesday hovered the locket. “Hold it between your thumb and index finger. Be very still. Don’t try to influence its movements and don’t visualize it moving. Let your higher self take over.”
“Okay, okay. But how do I ask where the things
“Look, babe, this is just to find a lost object. The most common use for a pendulum. We won’t go near your love life. It won’t be like last time. Come on, this is harmless.”
Olivia was caving, but reluctantly. “None of your stuff is harmless, Tues. Remember the time you read the Tarot for me and my cat died?”
Tuesday rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? The cards didn’t kill your cat. They just foresaw a loss and helped you prepare for it.”
“Yeah. For three weeks I was walking on eggshells waiting for something awful to happen.”
“If you’d followed my advice, you would have let go of the reading, but instead you obsessed on it. It was a lesson in detachment. Look at all the stuff you have.” Tuesday swept her arms around to include the showroom and the rest of the house. “Possess it. Don’t let it possess you.”
“Like you let go of your 20,000 thrift store scarves.” But then, Olivia’s last objection faded. Sometimes it was easier to give in to Tuesday than to fight her. “I’ll get my locket.”
Tuesday went over the rules for divination with a pendulum, even though Olivia had done this with her dozens of times.
“Okay. Nobody has touched this locket in the past 24 hours, right?”
“Check.”
“Good. We don’t want anyone else’s energy contaminating the answers. Now remember, ask only yes or no questions. If it swings left to right that’s a no answer. Backwards and forwards is a yes. Circular moves mean your higher self knows the answer but won’t reveal it.”
Olivia never admitted to her friends that she believed in Tuesday’s shenanigans, just that she liked to humor her. Tuesday was her best friend, yet no one else in her circle accepted her. She hadn’t gone to the right school. And those hideous clothes. But Olivia and Tuesday cemented their bond the night they had too much champagne and shared their mother stories. Olivia’s was typical. Her mother was a gold digger and social climber and groomed Olivia to find a rich husband. She insisted her future home contain a separate residence for her in her old age. She saw Olivia’s career leading her to the rich and famous, or at best, the cover of Architectural Digest. She never appreciated her daughter’s talent. Her grandmother was almost as cold but recognized Olivia’s true gifts. Her encouragement balanced the insecurities borne of her mother’s criticism of her looks. Why won’t you do something about that nose? Get a boob job. You make enough money for plastic surgery. Just your luck that men like short girls. Her grandmother, however, preached that there’s only one thing we owe to the world, dear, and that’s the fruit of our gifts. And you have them in abundance.
By comparison, Tuesday’s mother kept herself blissfully medicated and determinedly unwed. When she asked her mother at a young age about her father, the answer shocked her so much Tuesday never asked again. Well, he could have been one of three jerks. Maybe five. Whoever he was, you don’t want anything to do with him. They subsisted alternately on food stamps and mysterious infusions of cash that her mother never explained, but Tuesday came to believe were from drug deals. Her goal in life was to rise above all that and saw the occult as a spiritual path. The idea of unseen spirits watching over her got her through the day.
“Okay,” Olivia asked. “But what’s a yes or no question this time? I want it to tell me where the netsuke are.”
Tuesday hovered the locket. “Hold it between your thumb and index finger. Be very still. Don’t try to influence its movements and don’t visualize it moving. Let your higher self take over.”
“Okay, okay. But how do I ask where the things
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