Willow Pond

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

On the September day that Todd turned two, Laura found herself missing him so much it was almost unbearable. She imagined he spoke in full sentences now and tried to remember what his voice sounded like. It was so unfair. Whoever had him was experiencing the joy of watching him grow and change, while she had been denied what was rightfully hers.

She rolled over in her maple double bed and blinked with surprise at the alarm clock. It was twenty to twelve; she couldn’t believe she’d slept so late. She eased her feet into bedroom slippers and padded into the bathroom, hoping a good hot shower would wake her up. Unfortunately, when she’d finished she felt as lethargic as she had before. She pulled on a blue cotton skirt and white sweater, had a quick cup of coffee and half a cruller and headed outside for a walk.

It wasn’t only Todd’s disappearance that was tearing her up. It was Erich, too. When anyone mentioned him around her, she had to look away, force herself not to cry. She felt weak, as if with the two of them gone, all her support was gone. She’d lost them both: her baby and the man she loved, yet she was the one who felt lost. Nothing meant anything to her anymore, not even writing. Every time she sat at her typewriter she heard Erich’s voice praising something she’d written, and she’d start to cry.

 The Village was crowded on the weekends and this Saturday afternoon was no exception. She wandered down the street, pausing to look in shop windows or admire the artwork displayed on street corners. She ducked into B. Daltons, looking for a copy of Virginia Woolfe’s A Room Of One’s Own, but there were none in stock. The clerk told her they’d order one for her if she wanted. Instead, she bought a copy of The Good Earth that had just been released and was all the rage. A good book would get her mind off her troubles at least for a while.

On McDougal Street she stopped for iced coffee at an outdoor café. When she’d finished her drink she headed in the direction of Eighth Street, not knowing where she was going, just enjoying the fresh air and the chance to get her mind off things. She went into a couple of stores and was tempted to buy a new hat, then reminded herself she already had too many.

On the corner of Sixth Avenue she saw an intriguing dress shop, but was distracted by a sign hanging in the window of the store next door to it: Tarot Card Reader and Advisor. She had heard of tarot card readings and had once gone to a party with Phillip in California where a psychic had given free readings. It was all in fashion among the Hollywood set, but she wasn’t convinced she believed in it. Still, it couldn’t hurt …

She opened the door and stepped into a small room lit by candles and reeking of incense. A moment later a heavyset, middle-aged woman emerged from behind a red and gold patterned curtain. She looked at Laura, but didn’t show any sign of having recognized her. That was good. It would be too easy for the woman to fake a reading if she knew who Laura was.

“Are you here for a reading?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” Laura admitted. She glanced back at the door as if she were looking for escape.

“You want the reading,” the woman said decisively. “Sit down. I can help you.”

Laura sat, smiling nervously. The woman sat across from her and shuffled a pack of oversized cards, observing Laura’s expression as she did so.

“My name is Samara,” she said gently. “The cards will reveal your life to you.”

Laura frowned, but nodded, watching the woman’s hands. She felt silly, but since she was there she figured she might as well see things through to the end. If this woman came up with anything concrete, Laura would be amazed. So far Samara still didn’t seem to have recognized her, and she hoped that continued. She didn’t want the woman to be influenced by anything she might have read.