“Okay, so…” her friend’s voice trailed off.

That didn’t sound good. This has to work—it has to.

A shaking knee collided with the sturdy panel of the table. The pain shot a direct path to her mouth.

“Come on, give me a break here.”

“Shush it.”

Sabra Patterson watched and tried to remember to breathe the exquisite smells of aromatics.

She failed.

Deep, steadying breaths eluded her. Had it been someone else Sabra would deem such a waste of masterfully combined fusions of flower essences and delicate essential oils unforgivable.

Stylish but intimate, the table between them did nothing to soften the impact of the experience. The other woman maintained an implacable focus as she laid out the cards in measured concentration. Each card made a soft thwack as it landed. Sabra found it hard to resist a bit of a hop as each card exposed its face. The table made it hard to express herself the way Sabra wanted to.

She’d talked herself into getting this reading and Sabra determined to get through it. The last three months had been a hell she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. Desperate times called for drastic measures.

“Tilar, please? I hate it when you do that. Just go on and tell me. I can see that explosion on this card,” Sabra pointed to the colorful card labeled, Tower. A card, full of bold colors, depicted a medieval tower exploding with a naked man falling out of it. “And, don’t think I don’t know what that one with the skull is too. I can see the cards, same as you. Am I going to die? That card says Death!” Through quick, short breaths, she managed to get out, “I can’t die. I’m too young to die. I need to replace my mediocre sex encounters with an orgasmic experience at least once before I die!”

Even the peonies scent she loved so much weren’t enough to stop the avalanche of rising emotions from consuming her. Without looking up, Tilar placed one of her handmade scented regulators on the table. The ones that Sabra had consulted with Tilar on how to infuse with the right scents for proper aromatherapy.

Sabra took the obvious hint, picked it up, and placed the soft piece of pillow-soft material against her chest. Lavender wafted up.

Oh no, these cards must be super crappy. She gave me the lavender pillow!

It didn’t take a brain surgeon to tell her that Sabra was close to losing it. Her eyes darted around and tried to take in all the colorful cards laid out between them. It was no use. She hadn’t a clue what they meant. That sucked and didn’t work for her. Sabra couldn’t stand having any more barriers between her and how to fix this mess.

How would she stop the damage and fix her reputation? Sabra needed a reputation repair consultant, not a card reading.

“Stop it. I can hear your mind whizzing about from here.”

“But they’re out to ruin me! I—”

“But nothing. You’re bouncing around like a worm in hot ashes. Sit still before you break something and get put out.”

The air grew still. Tilar wasn’t playing. She would put her out. Sabra fought looming shadow monsters to remain seated and composed. Tilar really would put her out if she lost her cool in here. This room was Tilar’s pristine, personal home office after all.

Earthy browns, dark blues, rich purples, and splashes of golden but vibrant yellows that could only be pulled off by the skillful hands of a talented designer crowded in.  Everything about the room accused Sabra of turning away from her true calling.

“Breathe and stop being so crass. Geez, Bria, no one ever said you were intuitively slow—or drama free. I used your favorite scent blends for this. Do your nose thing and calm down.” Tilar looked up. Something in Sabra’s face must have conveyed the anxiety in a better way, since Tilar added, “Please, lovey, it’s going to all work itself out. It always does. Now, sit up straight; no slouching. Get a grip and let me work.” Tilar used that calm but firm voice she got when dealing with Sabra’s hysterics.

Uh-oh, Tilar was in a full-on intuitive mode. She’d be calm, methodical, and distant until she finished. Sabra’s world closed in. She needed the attentive, warm, emotionally supportive Tilar—not this distant Oracle version of her.

Sabra let her low mumble loose. “Stop being mean.”

“Mean? I’m not the one with a lynch mob after me.”

“That’s cold.”

“No, Bria, that’s truth—something you need more than anything. Deal with it.”

Yep, stone cold Tilar was in residence.

“Come on and reshuffle one time for me. Please? I wasn’t ready.” Sabra waited and waited. Nothing but silence met her request. “I call for a redo!”

Looking at the doom and gloom spread out between them, she had to shoot her shot. Sabra needed her friend to soften up a bit. Her sanity couldn’t handle the mounting fears of isolation. All hell had broken loose, and her life was in pieces.

“I need answers, now.” Sabra stabbed a finger through the oppressive space between her and the offending cards. “I can’t take it. Look at them, taunting me. Tilar, I think we should reshuffle and do it again. I don’t like these.”

“Stop that.” Tilar slapped Sabra’s hands away. “No touching my cards unless and when I say so.” Tilar eagle-eyed Sabra’s torso and commanded, “Sniff the pillow.”

The cards seemed to glare back at Sabra in defiance. “But I don’t like them. They’re scary.” Sabra waggled her finger far enough away not to get popped again. “Could you move that Tower one back toward you?”

“I can but won’t. It’ll mess up my spread.”

“Okay to whatever that means.” Sabra hated when her friends spoke jargon from their very different career worlds. She didn’t go around referring to pageantry stuff. Where was the compassion here?

“Are you sniffing?”

Sabra took in a huge inhale. Prevailing lavender and the other scents came to her rescue enough to punch down erratic processes flooding her cardiovascular and digestive systems. Her stomach was the first to stop churning followed by the slowing down of her heart.

It was the no-nonsense look on Tilar’s face that landed the most significant impact on Sabra’s mood, though. Once she regathered her common sense to realize she was pushing it with Tilar, she pulled her hand back to rest in her lap. The other hand continued to press the pillow against her chest as she dutifully sniffed.

“That’s better. Don’t try it again or make me regret this,” was the deadpan response Tilar landed as she leveled a look that would make a Banshee shut it.

Sabra complied and composed herself. No use getting in her feelings. Tilar wasn’t here to console. She was here to communicate with ultimate wisdom and convey that truth. Tilar didn’t need to be nice. Her psychic accuracy made up for what her emotional input lacked. Sabra remained quiet as the other woman waved a hand over a spread of Tarot cards.

“As for the cards, this is what we were dealt. This is what we’ll work with. Give me a moment to connect with what I see and get.”

Sabra leaned in ready to hear what her friend had to say. Tilar Sampson had a gift. One that scared the hell out of Sabra, but one that she needed in times like this.

Lips dry from worry demanded moisture as Sabra bit her lower one. Anyone coming into the expertly stylish room at this moment would only see two posh, voluptuous black girls hunched over fanciful cards spread on a table. That table and everything in this room were indicative of Tilar’s impeccable taste which could best be described as too delicious for words.

Sabra would have to correct the observer by adding that she was in the presence of a masterful intuitive. An intuitive who had taken mercy on her to do an impromptu meeting to help her get her life in order.

The shaky breath gave Sabra enough strength to proceed. “I’m ready. Hit me with it. I knew they were up to something. I knew it!”

Tilar put up a hand. “Shush and let me concentrate.”

“It’s like a soap opera. These women are vicious. I’ve never seen such vile villainy. You don’t know how wicked they are. I’m just one person. They’ve ganged up on me!”

This time, Tilar didn’t immediately answer. Instead, she continued to peer at the cards, close her eyes, peer at the cards again, and nod. Sabra watched this go on for another few minutes.

When it seemed, she couldn’t take it anymore, Tilar spoke.

“Bria, it’s not that bad.” Tilar pointed at that damned Tower and began to speak. “This card means that you’re going through a time of reconstruction.”

“Duh—you don’t say.”

Tilar ignored her and kept talking. “In classical terms, the Tower card signifies the swift destruction of things, events, or relationships built on a false foundation.”

And… it was back.

Anxiety sprang forward in vengeance. Sabra’s stomach took the lead in sounding off. The churn and growls her stomach made were loud and obnoxious. The expertly mixed concoction of lemon, peonies, and frankincense did nothing to settle her racing mind. Sabra couldn’t resist looking up into large dark brown eyes that seemed to see everything.

“What?” she asked, hoping Tilar wouldn’t require any information to support her statement.

“Bria, this is a no-judgment zone, remember? I’m doing this for my friend, not a client. I want you to get all the insight and wisdom you need to get on the other side of this trial you’re in.”

“All I wanted to do was protect my process and my brand,” Sabra whined.

“I know, lovey, but you threw down the gauntlet. Now, you have to deal with the consequences.” Tilar’s voice held no comfort. The woman was as even-keeled as ever.

“Tilar, am I going to lose it all?” Sabra hated how pitiful she sounded. Her only solace was that talking to Tilar was like going into the ultimate vault of confession. That woman never betrayed a confidence.

“Ladybug, would it be so bad if you did? You only got that hair license as a way to pay for school, right?”

All Sabra could manage was a nod.

“Just because a path is easily given doesn’t mean it can’t be easily taken. You have to come to terms with what you want. Fight for that, not a gilded cage.”

Sabra looked at her friend with renewed respect. “Didn’t you tell me the same thing when we graduated from college?”

“I think I’ve told both you and Chloe this, many times, back then and since. Y’all are going to learn to listen to me.” Tilar was kind enough to soften the scolding with a wink.

Sabra didn’t want to hear the truth, but it was her only way out of this mess. “Okay then, I promise to listen this time. It’s either this or become my lawyer’s bitch for the next twenty years.”

“That much for the lawsuits?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to cope. It’s all Melanie Peele’s doing. That heifer is ruthless.”

“She’s a mom. Once she cools down, you’ll be fine.” Tilar’s hand was soft and warm as it gave Sabra’s a gentle squeeze. Another look with eyes softened by compassion, and Tilar asked, “Are you ready to hear what you seek?”

Another nod was all Sabra could muster. Then, she pulled the pillow up to her nose and sniffed long and steady.

“You are going to have to lose it all to find yourself and true calling.”

“Dang it—that damned Melanie.”

“Don’t blame her. She’s just an unwitting instrument employed by your destiny.” Tilar pointed to a card. It had a large trumpet at the top and a considerable cauldron at the bottom with a nude woman rising out of it. Once she seemed convinced Sabra wouldn’t fall out from worry, she continued in that soothing voice of hers, “This card here is the Judgement card. In this position, it’s what is driving all these actions. The Death card is like the Tower but shows that you’re in a transformation.

“The Tower, Judgement, and Death cards grouped like this,” Tilar’s pointing finger made a swirling motion above the set of three cards, “they signify that your entire life is going to change—fast. These three cards, hmm let me see…” Tilar pointed to a set of cards with women on them. “Ooh, I’ve got it. Thank you, Spirit. Ooh, yes, yes, Sabra, listen up.”

Sabra had to remember to close her mouth as Tilar’s new excitement flowed over her. She grasped at its refreshment from her perch in the desert of despair. It had only taken a few hours after the latest legal beatdown for her entire world to collapse. She hoped Tilar had the key to unlock a way out of this.

“I’m listening. Do your thing.”

Tilar’s smile was open and reassuring as she spoke. “This card is the Queen of Swords. I think it’s you. Well, I think all three of these cards are you. The Queen of Swords is all about that tongue of yours. She’s quick-witted, intelligent, spits the truth, and can rub folks the wrong way with her candor. Sound like anyone we know? Hmm?”

“That could be you as much as it’s me.” Sabra had crossed her arms, locking the pillow in, before she could stop herself.

Tilar’s sharp eyes missed nothing as she eyed Sabra’s display of protecting and closing herself off. Sabra gave in and uncrossed her arms when the other woman refused to continue.

Appeased, Tilar spoke up again. “This is about you, though. Own it, Bria.” A smirk rode Tilar’s expression at Sabra’s truth about her own tongue.

“I told you, I was just stating the obvious. I was tired of those bitches stealing my fire, so I did something about it.”

“That you did, which leads us to the next one. It’s the Queen of Wands. Known as the Fiery Queen, she’s all about swift action. She’s the ‘It’s Handled’ card that gets stuff done. I see these cards telling me what you did to get to the Judgement, Tower, and Death situation. You spoke up and activated the law with that copyright notice.”

“That I did. I’m not going to lie. But they were asking for it. I had to send those Cease and Desist letters. They stole my process and tried to say it was theirs from the rip. What else was I supposed to do?”

“I’m not disagreeing with you. I’m just stating what the cards are showing us. That partially explains the next card—the Strength Card.”

“Why is she naked and riding the back of that lion like she’s in a hip-hop video? Why is this card deck full of naked folks?” Sabra couldn’t help the look of judgment that had to be riding her face hard.

“Oh, haha, that’s funny, Bria. I never looked at it like that before. I guess there are quite a few naked people in this particular deck, but I find it’s the best deck for your resonance.”

“You know I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

“Don’t worry, it means this deck is a good fit for you.”

“I hope that the naked folks mean I’ll get some—”

“Don’t even try to finish that. You asked about your life in general. If it’s here, the cards will say so.” Tilar fell silent as she took a moment to re-examine the Strength card. “Hmm, that’s odd.”

Sabra’s voiced boomed in an attempt to shout over the accelerated thumping of her heart. “What’s odd?”

Unfazed by her sudden shout, Tilar picked the Strength card up to investigate. Sabra’s breathing tripped over itself in disbelief.

Stress-induced anxiety had Sabra blurt out, “Ooh, I know you didn’t. Weren’t you the one saying not to touch the cards? Won’t that do bad things to my karma or something?”

“Correct yourself,” Tilar warned in that measured, sophisticated way of hers. “I said you were not to touch my cards.” Tilar locked eyes on her to drive her point home. “As for karma? It is what it is until you do something to clean or change it.” She resumed her stare down of the card and added, “Now, for the last time, hush up, I need silence to see.”

“Hmph,” was the only word Sabra dared let fly as she waited.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Tilar eyed Sabra and tilted her head to the side. “I keep seeing visions of you and a great beast of mythical proportions. You know, like in some fantasy movie?” The woman leaned in to look at the card some more.

There was no way Sabra could form a word now that a Lord of the Rings creature might be involved.

“Ah, yes.” Tilar fingered the card some more. Yeah, that makes so much sense. Right,” she said as if speaking to someone far beyond this realm as she continued to look off into the distance. Once she refocused on the cards and Sabra, Tilar continued, “So, it looks like you’ll need strength not only to make it through this current storm, but you’ll also have a hell of a time with a powerful man. Sabra—real talk— you’ll need to make peace with yourself to be able to interact with him in harmony.”

Sabra almost sent a card flying as she sat up to look at the spread again. “Are you saying I’m going to get a man?”

“Girl, you and that one-track mind need to pay attention! Maybe, but what I am saying with more confidence is that you’ll encounter a man of great power. It will take strength to overcome your fears to deal with him. You’ll need to seriously work on yourself to interact with someone on that level.” Tilar didn’t show one ounce of remorse for the burn she seared onto Sabra’s feelings. Instead, she kept going, unfazed by the heft of her words. “This card here is the Emperor. And this one is the King of Pentacles.”

The five-pointed stars on the King card added to Sabra’s unease. She didn’t know about this Tarot stuff as it was.

“Oh no, I can’t get with no devilment. I don’t do that weird stuff.”

“Hush up. Pentacles is another word for coins or earthly stability. The King of Pentacles is a solid man grounded with wisdom and wealth. He’s the great father who takes care of everyone. The Emperor intensifies that to a man of great authority and maybe even one who is responsible for a lot of people, business, or more.”

“He doesn’t sound so scary, especially if he’s got power like that and I can get on his good side. Any man with money and power is going to have a strong will, right?” Her mind whizzed with ideas of how to exact vengeance on her haters with his help. “Yeah, this guy doesn’t sound bad at all.” Sabra couldn’t help but pay attention to the faint beginnings of excitement canceling out the worry in the pit of her stomach.

“We’ll have to see. All I can say for now is that he’s nobody’s fool or pushover. As for whether this is a new romantic interest, the cards say many things. Like this one.” Tilar pointed to the card with the little girl that was too cute for words holding a cup. “This is the Princess of Cups. She offers or announces that emotional elements of your life are looking up. She can also signify a coming birth of a relationship, love, family, or emotional satisfaction.” Another pause went by, and Tilar nodded as if convinced of something. “Since she appears after the Strength card and the King of Pentacles, it looks favorable that your life is going to be way better than now.”

“Yes! Thank you, Lord! I needed that. Tilar you are the best!”

“Not so fast, Miss Missy. There’s the matter of your outcome card.”

Sabra stopped in mid-dance as she refocused on the sober look spreading across her friend’s face. “What is it?”

“It’s the High Priestess.”

“And?”

“And, she represents hidden knowledge, truth, and secrets. It says that your outcome is hidden and that you’ll need to do the work to find out what she has in store for you. You’ll have to use the power and teaching of the Strength card to forge your future. The High Priestess is exacting in her lessons. Those she deems worthy have wisdom and knowledge far beyond others. I sense that she’s going to test you in new and trying ways. Buckle up and get ready.”

“Why does it have to be another woman sitting in judgment of me?”

“She’s more of a Pope. No, I take that back,” Tilar said grabbing a nearby pad and pen. “She’s the grand teacher, alchemist, and hidden wisdom. Like the Magician, she’s magical in her ways. Having her in your reading is a gift. Hold on as I write down your spread and the keywords to their meanings for you.”

The flicker of hope from a few moments before dimmed only for a second. With all the gloomy news Sabra would have imagined being inconsolable. Instead, she felt relieved and lighter as if a great weight lifted.

From here on, she would go with the flow and do it gracefully. Her soul ached from all the fighting. Yeah, putting a name on the invisible forces of her life had freed instead of enslaved her.

This insight might be the key to her second chance at getting her life right. Or, not. Time would tell. Part of her wanted Tilar to be wrong while the other part was a mixed jumble of conflicting emotions.

“I’ve got this,” she mumbled.

“What’s that, lovey?” Tilar asked as she handed the written note to her.

By her change in tone, Sabra could tell Tilar was back to her usual self.

“Oh, nothing. You caught me talking to myself is all.”

“That’s a sign of great intelligence. I’m impressed by how well you took the reading. Know that if you need anything that I didn’t pick up intuitively, please let me know and I’ll be there to help.”

“Thank you.” Sabra’s entire body succumbed to the onslaught of love coming from Tilar. That woman was a rock for so many. There was no way she’d add to Tilar’s emotional support load. Instead, she willed herself to project strength and smiled. “I appreciate you for doing this on such short notice. Give me your payment ID so I can pay for my session with you.”

Both women stood.

“No, lovey, this one is on the house. Something tells me you’ll need to keep as much liquid cash on hand as possible.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin my spiritual lifeline privileges. I’m happy to pay.”

“I didn’t stutter. I’m sure. But I do need to get back to work. I have this man who has been persistent in trying to set up an in-person appointment with me that I need to deal with. He needs to know my no is final.”

“Since when are you turning down potential clients?”

“I’m not, but I have a feeling he’s not my client.”

Sabra didn’t call attention to how Tilar’s body language shifted. There were way more intriguing story details to be unpacked about this guy. From what she could tell, and she was not intuitive in the least bit, Tilar seemed drawn to him in some way. She never discussed other clients. Added to that was the fact that her friend hadn’t been this animated about a man in a while.

Wisdom won out.

Sabra kept her notions to herself and let the insight drop—for now. Time would tell if there was anything to the man mysterious enough for Tilar to have to “deal” with.

“Well, I trust your gut. It’s always been golden with me. Shut him down but not too hard. You never know what could lead from this. Maybe he’s trying to get you connected with other clients.”

“You know I only work on word-of-mouth. He didn’t come through that process, so he’s not my client.”

“Just like you, Tilar. One of these days your rigid rules are going to turn on you.”

“Maybe, but until then, this is my business, and I’ll run it the way I want to.”

“Amen!” Sabra never quite knew all the areas of work Tilar provided, but she was sure the woman was great at them all. Her phone rang cutting into the shared sisterhood moment. “Oh, I have to take this.” She smiled as Tilar leaned in for a goodbye hug.

After the reading, her world seemed more orderly. Sabra’s steps grew easier as she turned to leave. Once done and heading out the door, she answered with renewed strength, “Yes, this is the Doll Hair Whisperer, how may I help you?”