Valentine Story: Palm Reader

“You know, I used to read palms,” confided Duffy, the handler for the soup contest judges. She was a spry woman in her 70’s with short white hair and an impish grin. Her white apron covered the colorful outfit she wore, but you could tell it had personality. Reading glassed hung on a chain around her neck. I would have bet, more than once, she asked her husband where her glasses were when she was wearing them.

We, the judges for the Empty Bowl Soup contest, were between the cream based and the stews, trying to let everything digest as we chit chatted in the back room of the event, hidden away from the competitors. Sophia, a kind woman with a velvet voice,  had a local radio segment featuring everyone in the food business from cooks to farmers to artisans. Annie, was an energetic adventurer, who worked for a regional travel magazine known for its beautiful photography. I was not sure what she did exactly but her social media posts were always from somewhere exciting around the state and she always seemed to meet famous people. I fell into the gig by being a local hobby farmer who cooked well, and was a coworker of the food writer at the local paper, who could not be there. My son had come to this event for years, starting when he was 8 when I could not find a sitter on a Saturday morning. Now 12, he came along because he had a sophisticated palette and liked to eat. He was the unofficial fourth judge.

“Would you read OUR palms?” Sophia asked so sweetly, no one could refuse her.

Annie and I chimed in enthusiastically, bouncing a little in our chairs, “yes! Yes! Read ours, please?” My preteen son pretended to be disinterested but he was watching her every move, secretly hoping he would be included too.

Duffy smiled at the request or maybe because she had turned “women of a certain age” into the giggling teenagers she once had taught. “No, no,” she demurred, “It has been so long. I am not sure I remember much.”

She was lying so we begged a little more, seeing she enjoyed being in the spotlight.

“Ok hold out your palm,” she commanded Sophia.

 After tracing the lines with her gnarled fingers and staring deeply at the open palm, she spoke. “Your career is going well for you. You do what you love. You have a good life line, and your love line is interesting too. The love of your life is someone you have known a long time. Is that true?”

“Well I don’t really have a significant other right now.” Sophia blushed. She had a gift for bringing interesting people together. She had wonderful brunches and dinner parties.  I was surprised that she had not attracted a wonderful guy through one of those events.

“You need to start going to some reunions to find him, I think! How else are you going to meet him? Do you have one coming up?”

Sophie laughed and said she would look into it.

My palm was outstretched waiting for her predictions. She studied the lines, cocking her head as if puzzled.

“You have had a long career but I see you changing careers. Also, your lines say you have three children or are going to. But two will be from a different man than the other”

“Nope, I think the ship has sailed for me to have other kids. I just have my awesome son over there.” I laughed, as he rolled his eyes at the compliment.

“I wonder what that means then. However, your life line is very, very long.”  She turned to my son and said, “I hope you are ready to have her around a super long time.” He nodded enthusiastically.

“Well let’s look at yours then,” she said taking his hand gently. “Interesting, you will have someone in love with you but you will be in love with someone else, maybe her best friend. You may have some juggling to do. But you will live a long time too, so you can take care of your mom.”  He was embarrassed at the prediction for his love life but promised he would take care of me.

Annie was last.

“You will live a long life but hmmmmm, interesting….” She trailed off.

“what, what?” Annie was impatient to hear her twist.

 “You will have several loves over your lifetime. Not just one.” Annie smiled as if it made perfect sense to her. She had not discussed her personal life much with us, but I had a feeling she had an interesting private life. I was pretty sure she had a girlfriend but I never asked. She was always becoming instant friends with the celebrities she met. She didn’t encourage Duffy to go on, as if she wanted to keep her secrets to herself.

Just then, I realized that Duffy had not said anything about my love life. I asked if she could revisit my palm because she forgot to tell me about my love life. Would I have many, like Annie? Would I have someone from my past, like Sophia? Will someone new come into my life and sweep me off my feet? I had to know. Patience was not one of my better qualities.

I thrust my palm out to her, then the other.

“Here read both, I am ambidextrous! One might be better than the other.”

She took my hands, looking carefully. Her head raised and she looked me deep in my eyes and said with a small grin. “You will live a long, long life.”

“Wait...... no, love life........what is the prediction for my love life?” I might have seemed a little desperate.

She held both of my hands, and said once again, “You will live a long, long life."

The attendant rolled in with the next batch of food for us to judge. Duffy sprang into action getting them on the table for us. Annie and Sophia looked at my crestfallen face, then each other, and laughed. My son didn’t get it.

“Well ladies,” I said when they were done laughing, “Guess I will have to figure out how to enjoy my long, long lonely life. Suggestions are welcome.”

Say my name

I finally had the pleasure of seeing yurt boy, although I guess now Aaron is yurt-less boy since he lost everything in the fire. He said he was angry at first but now is resigned. Putting a positive spin on the tragedy, he said, was that he could buy any book now and be certain that he did not have it already. He now had five outfits that he rotated through the week thanks to a recent trip to Goodwill and what he escaped with. I wanted get him some clothes for his birthday which was just around the corner.  He assured me that he was not picky, unlike a man that I used to share a closet with.

After he met me at work with his bicycle, he was chuckling as we walked to my car to leave. He was laughing because he thought people must think I picked up a homeless man to take home. With his three bags, bike, funky sandals that laced over his pants (which I hated), uncombed long blond hair and beard, yeah, he looks, and actually was homeless, since the fire. I tried to reason that it was all about context really. If you saw him on the Adirondack trail or in the Rockies, you would think he was a mountain man, a Grizzley Adams type.

Now he was homeless, living temporarily with his uncle in town. I didn't even know he had an uncle nearby.  I was just happy that he was safe and alive. Part of me wished he could live with me until he figured out a better solution but I didn't think it would set a good example for Jay, having a guy around who was not going to permanent yet was very intimate. Truth be told, I didn't want him getting used to Aaron because he was not going to be around forever. Maybe I was scared of what Jay's dad would say since I gave him the third degree about sleeping with his girlfriend when she was visiting and Jay was around. Maybe still, I knew it would piss me off to have him around if he was not contributing anything but sexual gratification while I was working 40 hours a week, housing, and feeding him.

He would not have taken me up on the offer anyway because he wanted to be close to school and his friends in town. Living with his uncle was a good solution for now.

At home, I fed horses and got the mail.  Then my ex called to complain about our 5 year old son's lack of responsibility. Seems he was given some money for his birthday to put in the bank. His dad told him to put the money in his pocket. Instead of going straight to the bank, they went for a haircut, and a cupcake. By the time they got to the bank, the money was gone. I listened trying not to yell at him but instead be calm to his rant. How could he blame his child for this?

I was so worked up after the call that I collapsed on the couch with a huge growl/sigh and my feet on Aaron's lap. He knew how to calm me down even though it had been so long since we had been together. He slowly rubbed my feet and calves. He hit some sore spots that made me yelp in pain.
"You are holding your anger here," as he pressed on my ankle.
"Please, that hurts, can you press lighter?"
He put his fingers on my arm and gentle pressed. "This is how hard I am pressing."
It was not much at all. I knew from previous massages that sometimes to get the release, it had to hurt some. I kissed his palm and asked him to continue.  It felt so nice to be cared for.

"Are you still angry?"
"yes," I said unable to let it go.
"Use me to get your anger out.  Come fuck me."

He knew I thought sex was a great reliever of stress from anger and much more fun than cleaning, which was how I got rid of anger when I was alone.

 After a heroic effort to purge the anger from my heart, we lay in bed, his head on my stomach which rumbled so violently, his head raised.

"I'm hungry too," he said smiling but not offering to cook.

Trouble was, I really didn't feel like making anything. My creativity was zapped. I ended up cooking some bacon and stir frying green beans in the bacon fat.

"Aaron, dinner will be haricots verts stir-fried in pork belly drippings." I announced laughing because it sounded so much better than green beans fried in bacon grease.

A healthy shot of tequila in bubbly lime water washed it down pretty well. Maybe the  tequila would help break down the bacon fat faster. I felt pretty relaxed afterwards and we watched "Through the Wormhole" about quantum physics for awhile before heading back to bed. He told me that he thought time was spherical not linear. Time travel was possible just not in the physical way like on Dr. Who, he went on. I thought it was interesting but didn't feel like talking about it at the moment.

It was nice to have him at my house again. He was comfortable to have around, like my favorite slippers. We screwed around until we were exhausted and maybe beyond exhausted. It had been awhile since we had seen each other.

I curled into him with my head on his arm, his heavy arm over me, anchoring him to me.
"are you ok like this?" I whispered, feeling comfortably secure.
"Like what?"
"With my head on your arm. Will your arm fall asleep or get tired?"
"mmm no, I like it. Goodnight my sweet Nell"

 He said my name after saying goodnight. My name. One of the things that had bugged me about my married life was that my ex never said my name. I became depersonalized, if that made any sense. Just having someone say "goodnight" and then say my name after, was so comforting and sweet. Not "Babe", "sweetheart", "darling" but my given name. I fell asleep happy, wondering if it was as important for him to hear me say his name too.