careers.”
“Financial?”
“Not so much financial as on your own terms. You are very good at what you do. You are a particularly good manager. Good at leading, good at delegating. You are not reckless, though you take risks. You are not reluctant to let other people shine.
“You have a talent for friendship, and I would say you are a particularly good mother.”
There was an intake of breath in the room. The first complete misstep. Solange looked up, unperturbed.
“I don’t have children,” said Carter.
Solange looked at the hand. “I see a child, very clearly.”
“Then you see a medical miracle. That, or I didn’t understand the menopause lecture last night.” Solange squinted slightly and turned the palm slightly to angle the light across it.
“You have a niece? A nephew? A godchild?”
“Maybe I better get a dog,” said Carter.
“Yes,” said Solange, “I think you better. And be very careful in your work. There is a break here that could mean illness, but more likely accident. Your work is dangerous?”
“Can be. Is this something that will happen?”
“Nothing in the hand has to happen. It is waiting to happen, but whether it does or not is up to you.”
Solange told Carol that she was hard-working and artistic, and would change careers; she mentioned no children. She told Rusty that she had a cross, an ominous sign, indicating an injury to the head. That she had healer’s marks, meaning she was a kind person, a good listener, who would be a wonderful doctor or nurse, but in any calling would make people feel better just being around her.
Rusty beamed. Everyone wanted to know if she saw Rusty recovering or dying, but of course, no one asked.
Five Fortunes / 77
Friday night at dinner, the conspirators sat together and shared a wicked buzz of elation.
“What do you think, Laurie?” Carol asked. “Are you going to run?”
This again. Laurie thought for a bit about whether it was time for a jolt of reality. She said, “Did you know I ran for Congress twenty years ago?”
“You did? No, I didn’t know that. What happened?”
“I got buried. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. At the time.”
“Oh god,” said Carol absently, “I’m sure. But at least you know how to do it. Doesn’t it make you want to roar back and stomp them this time?”
It did not make Laurie want to do that. It made her feel like telling Carol she had no idea what she was talking about. But she left it unsaid, because she thought, How do I know what she knows? You probably get knocked around in her line of work too.
Rae was watching closely and thinking it was about time to let up on Laurie.
“This omelette is wonderful,” she said.
“Could I have the salsa?” Amy called.
“ Certainement, mon général ,” said Carter, snapping a salute. The conspirators laughed. Jill looked at her mother, questioning. “I’ll tell you later,” Amy whispered.
A familiar and very bad thing had happened to Jill. Depression closed down over her like a bell jar. When the phone rang in her room at five forty-five, she could hardly stir herself to lift the receiver. She felt as if a miasma of something dark and heavy, like lead in the form of a vapor, had invaded her chest. With every breath she wanted to weep. The room, still full of the dark of night, had become a cell in a nunnery. She had committed herself to a future without light or joy or pleasure, in the hope of a heaven that didn’t exist. There was no light, anywhere. Nothing ever changed, nothing would ever get better. No one told the truth, nothing was possible.
There was a knock on the door.
“Sweetie?” Amy chirped. She slipped into her daughter’s room.
“It’s the most heavenly morning,” she said, and pulled the curtain cords. Outside, the world was bathed in silvery blue light and filled with the sound of birds.
“Better hop it, little lamb. We’re going to do the Five-Mile Mountain.”
Jill thought about telling
“Financial?”
“Not so much financial as on your own terms. You are very good at what you do. You are a particularly good manager. Good at leading, good at delegating. You are not reckless, though you take risks. You are not reluctant to let other people shine.
“You have a talent for friendship, and I would say you are a particularly good mother.”
There was an intake of breath in the room. The first complete misstep. Solange looked up, unperturbed.
“I don’t have children,” said Carter.
Solange looked at the hand. “I see a child, very clearly.”
“Then you see a medical miracle. That, or I didn’t understand the menopause lecture last night.” Solange squinted slightly and turned the palm slightly to angle the light across it.
“You have a niece? A nephew? A godchild?”
“Maybe I better get a dog,” said Carter.
“Yes,” said Solange, “I think you better. And be very careful in your work. There is a break here that could mean illness, but more likely accident. Your work is dangerous?”
“Can be. Is this something that will happen?”
“Nothing in the hand has to happen. It is waiting to happen, but whether it does or not is up to you.”
Solange told Carol that she was hard-working and artistic, and would change careers; she mentioned no children. She told Rusty that she had a cross, an ominous sign, indicating an injury to the head. That she had healer’s marks, meaning she was a kind person, a good listener, who would be a wonderful doctor or nurse, but in any calling would make people feel better just being around her.
Rusty beamed. Everyone wanted to know if she saw Rusty recovering or dying, but of course, no one asked.
Five Fortunes / 77
Friday night at dinner, the conspirators sat together and shared a wicked buzz of elation.
“What do you think, Laurie?” Carol asked. “Are you going to run?”
This again. Laurie thought for a bit about whether it was time for a jolt of reality. She said, “Did you know I ran for Congress twenty years ago?”
“You did? No, I didn’t know that. What happened?”
“I got buried. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. At the time.”
“Oh god,” said Carol absently, “I’m sure. But at least you know how to do it. Doesn’t it make you want to roar back and stomp them this time?”
It did not make Laurie want to do that. It made her feel like telling Carol she had no idea what she was talking about. But she left it unsaid, because she thought, How do I know what she knows? You probably get knocked around in her line of work too.
Rae was watching closely and thinking it was about time to let up on Laurie.
“This omelette is wonderful,” she said.
“Could I have the salsa?” Amy called.
“ Certainement, mon général ,” said Carter, snapping a salute. The conspirators laughed. Jill looked at her mother, questioning. “I’ll tell you later,” Amy whispered.
A familiar and very bad thing had happened to Jill. Depression closed down over her like a bell jar. When the phone rang in her room at five forty-five, she could hardly stir herself to lift the receiver. She felt as if a miasma of something dark and heavy, like lead in the form of a vapor, had invaded her chest. With every breath she wanted to weep. The room, still full of the dark of night, had become a cell in a nunnery. She had committed herself to a future without light or joy or pleasure, in the hope of a heaven that didn’t exist. There was no light, anywhere. Nothing ever changed, nothing would ever get better. No one told the truth, nothing was possible.
There was a knock on the door.
“Sweetie?” Amy chirped. She slipped into her daughter’s room.
“It’s the most heavenly morning,” she said, and pulled the curtain cords. Outside, the world was bathed in silvery blue light and filled with the sound of birds.
“Better hop it, little lamb. We’re going to do the Five-Mile Mountain.”
Jill thought about telling
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