Major Arcana: Sex, Love, and Tarot

The clawfoot tub seemed to glare accusingly as she, traitor, turned on the shower instead. It wasn't a particularly fancy shower, as it had been built around the original tub. In fact it was little more than a drain and a shower curtain. Rosemary had never minded, but when Josh entered alongside, his masculine bigness seemed to overwhelm the tiny space.

Giggling apologetically, she said, "Tight quarters, sorry."

"That's how I like 'em," Josh replied.

He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her close as he turned on the shower. Water poured over them, bouncing off their joined bodies, making Rosemary laugh as it pushed the hair over her eyes. Josh kissed her under the spray, and she tasted clean water alongside the musky flavor of his mouth... his mouth that had brought her such ecstasy only a short while ago. She lingered on that kiss, relishing every small movement of his lips. At that moment he could have asked her almost anything, and she would have said yes.

She broke the kiss regretfully, reaching for the soap and a washcloth. Smiling and laughing, they soaped one another up. Rosemary lingered on the broad muscles of his chest, his hard, sexy abs. She rubbed her soapy hands across his shoulders and back, making him hiss when she washed over the scratches she'd left there. Teasing, she slipped her hand between his legs from behind, reaching for his dangling cock. He turned then, with a growl, and covered her hand with his. Already his dick was halfway hard again.

"You sure you wanna start something right now?" he whispered, and his voice was so sexy it made her weak. She couldn't even answer, she was so riveted to his body, to his throbbing cock beneath her fingers. "Because I'm ready to go again, anytime..."

"Let's save something for the next date, shall we?" she gasped finally, barely getting the words out past her thickened tongue.

He chuckled, pressed against her again, rubbing his cock between her fingers several times, before releasing her.

"Okay, then. Only if you promise there will be a next date."

"I'm free this weekend."

"Not anymore."

Turning off the shower, he gathered her into his arms for a last kiss. He hugged her so tight Rosemary felt her ribcage contracting. His lips held her captive, almost painfully harsh as he thrust his tongue far into her mouth. They tussled together, Rosemary torn between the struggle to get away, to breathe, and the desire to fall deeper into him. She couldn't think, couldn't gasp, couldn't do anything but live in that moment, in his kiss. When he finally let go she took a ragged breath, gathering oxygen into her desperate lungs.

"I'll pick you up on Saturday morning. You're mine for the day."

"Oh...okay..." she managed, breathless.

He left her then, naked and dripping in the shower. Rosemary heard the door clack shut behind him. Drying herself with shaking fingers, she went back to the sex-scented bed and tried to fall asleep. But the memory of what he'd done to her played over and over, refusing to let her go.

Chapter 7: The Tower

Rosemary woke with sex still on her mind. Humming to herself, she went into the kitchen and flicked on the electric kettle to boil water for tea. She popped a slice of bread in the toaster, grabbed her butter and jam from the fridge, and settled down at the table for breakfast. As she sipped her tea, her eyes fell on the embroidered Tarot bag. For once I'm actually awake enough in the morning to do it properly! With a cheerful flourish, she reached in and grabbed a card.

The scene immediately gave her pause. She stopped her mug in mid-air, staring at the card. On it, a tall stone tower reached up into the night sky. Its summit was struck by lightning bolts, causing stones to crumble and fall into the roiling sea below. Two human figures tumbled down, eyes wide with panic as they hurtled toward the dark water. It was a disturbing card. A card of warning; a sense of insecurity, of fear. The Tower.

What the hell? Rosemary's appetite disappeared as she studied the puzzle. What's The Tower doing here? This isn't how I feel right now. I had an amazing time with Josh last night -- freaking awesome sex -- promised to take me out on Saturday. Totally over my old breakups, thanks to Death. Feeling pretty good, actually. So why this dark warning? What's about to come crumbling down? With a frown, she finished her tea and put the mug in the sink. Rosemary forced herself to eat a couple more bites of toast before leaving for the bus.

It was while she stood at the bus stop, hands in her pockets, waiting, that she remembered.

"Fuck," she swore under her breath. "I almost forgot -- again! Fabricio and I planned to meet for late night at the SAM."

She groaned, for once in her life not wanting to go to the museum. Even though they'd agreed to be "art geek hangout buddies," she knew he was interested in more. After last night, she would have to tell him about Josh. Thinking back to The Tower, to the terrified expression on the face of the falling man, she couldn't suppress a shudder.

*

They spent most of their time in the small, oft-neglected gallery of Australian Aboriginal art. Rosemary loved the pure elegance of those lines. The merest shape -- just a curve in a series of dots -- could represent water, or a snake. No other culture on Earth had mastered the perfection of the abstract like they had. She sketched a few of her favorites in her purse-sized sketchbook. Fabricio observed the art with a master's eye, every now and then interjecting something he knew about the medium, or historical background. As usual, Rosemary felt like she'd learned a ton, just from being in his company. It was seven o'clock before her stomach reminded her about dinner.

"Just not anywhere too expensive," she said, glancing meaningfully at him. "My budget can't take it this month!"

"My treat this time, remember?"

"No way! We'll split it, at least."

Fabricio gave a good-natured shrug. His smile was so natural, his pleasure in her company so sincere, Rosemary felt bad already about what she had to tell him.

"Works for me," he said. "Pizza?"

"Okay."

They took the bus to the Pagliacci on Lower Queen Anne. Rosemary'd seen wheelchair users loaded onto the bus before, but never anyone she knew. Now she understood what an operation it was. A long, grueling operation. Hard on a person's pride. The bus driver put the vehicle in park, lowered it down with loud, irritating beeps of warning, and released the ramp. All of this took a good thirty seconds. Then Fabricio rolled onto the ramp, and another series of beeps signaled it coming back up. After that the bus driver went in, shooed some grouchy people off their front seats, and folded them back to reveal the wheelchair security belts. He strapped Fabricio's chair in, checked to make sure it was well attached, and after receiving Fabricio's gracious thanks, finally went back to the driver's seat.

All told it took almost two minutes. Rosemary, a bus commuter, knew how precious those minutes were. She felt torn between annoyance that it took so damn long, shame at feeling so annoyed, and mild embarrassment that other people had been staring at them, watching her and Fabricio get on the bus. All sense of anonymity was gone. They were a spectacle. And, worse, she knew how it felt to be on the observing end. How many times had she stared (discreetly), as a wheelchair-bound person entered the bus? How many times had she felt irritation at the time it took to get them settled? And now that he's with me, I'm the one embarrassed about it? What the hell is wrong with you, Rosemary?

Their bus ride was only five minutes long, before they pulled into their stop and repeated the lengthy process to get Fabricio off. Rosemary felt distinctly on edge as they entered the restaurant and ordered their pizza slices. She had the feeling this night was going to end unpleasantly. The Tower weighed on her mind, adding to her stress.

"What's wrong, Rosemary?" Fabricio asked, just as he was lifting his second slice of pizza. He ate with the insatiable appetite of a college-aged guy. Already his first piece was long gone, and four more sat on his plate, awaiting their turn to be devoured. "You seem quiet tonight."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just..." Rosemary paused, sighed, and shook her head. She didn't want to do this. But she couldn't go on otherwise. It would be dishonest, to give this kid hope for something more, when all she could think about was Josh's broad smile, Josh's growly bedroom voice, Josh's hard cock...

"I'm seeing someone," she blurted.

Fabricio's pizza stopped halfway to his mouth. His eyes snapped to hers, searching. She didn't say anything, but he must have found the answer in her gaze. Fabricio slowly took his bite of pizza, chewed, swallowed, wiped his mouth on a paper napkin.

"Okay," he said simply.

For some reason, this response annoyed Rosemary. How can he just sit there, eating? Isn't he going to say anything? To fight for me? Or chew me out? Or... say something?

"What do you mean, 'okay?'"

"I mean it's okay." He shrugged. "We never agreed to be exclusive. Actually, I recall you carefully avoiding the idea that our 'hanging out' might actually be 'a date.' I get it; I'm in college. I know what hanging out means. It means waiting around for something better."

"But..."

"Look, Rosemary," he tossed the pizza crust back onto the plate with a sharp gesture. Despite his calm words, she could tell he was agitated. His eyes were bright with emotion. If she knew him better, she might have identified it as pain. "I like you, okay? I would be totally over the moon if you agreed to date me. No man on Earth would ever treat you better, or care about you more, than I would. But you're not into me right now. I'm man enough to deal with it."

Angrily he picked up a slice of pepperoni and tore into it. He chewed savagely, attacking the pizza with such ferocity Rosemary almost felt a little scared.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

He scoffed, still mid-bite.

"Just tell me it isn't for the obvious reason," he growled. He didn't have to gesture to the wheelchair to make his meaning clear.

"It's not! Really! I mean, I do think about that, but that's not the reason." At least, I don't think so. Oh, god, am I just an awful person? Look how much I've hurt him!

"What is the reason, then?"

This was the hard part. In truth, there was no reason. Fabricio was a fantastic guy, the kind of man a woman could spend her whole life with. In her heart -- and in her head -- Rosemary could find no concrete reason not to give it a try. Besides the obvious one, as he'd said. And Rosemary was not willing to think she was the kind of person who would let a physical disability affect her relationship decisions. At least, not yet... she couldn't think about herself that way, yet.

"Fabricio, how old are you?"

"Twenty-two. Why?"

"I'm thirty-two. Dude, that makes me ten years older than you! I'm not interested in robbing the cradle!"

"More like robbing the elementary school. But okay, go on."

"Um... well... you're, like, in college. Don't you want to be going out to tons of parties, drinking too much, hooking up, all that stuff? I'm an old lady, compared to you."

"Been there. Done that. Over it."

That shocked Rosemary.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Girls dig me at parties. They think I'm cute and helpless, or something. Just takes one night to prove them wrong." Fabricio fixed her with a meaningful grin as he finished his last piece of pizza. Suddenly Rosemary realized how sexy he was, with those dark eyes, chiseled face, and sensual lips. When he smiled, it was like somebody turned the lights on in an art gallery. All of a sudden the richness of his character was revealed.

"The thing is," he went on, wiping his fingers on a paper napkin, then crumpling it onto his plate, "I'm over girls, at this point. I'm looking for a woman. The woman, you know what I mean?"

His eyes spoke volumes. Rosemary's heart constricted when she understood what he meant. Isn't that what I want, too? Aren't I looking for the man? Is this guy for real? Then the image of Josh, sweating over her last night, popped into her mind, and she blushed. It was too much, too fast. She was, literally, speechless.

"Just remember, when this other guy turns out to be an asshole, I'll be here."

It took a while for her brain to process that. When it did, her brow furrowed in anger and confusion.

"Wait... what do you mean?"

"Mean by what?"

"What do you mean, 'when'? Why not 'if'?"

"Just got a feeling. Pretty sure he's gonna treat you bad. And when he does, I'll be waiting for you."

"You got a lot of nerve, Fabricio, telling me my boyfriend is an asshole! You never even met him!" Her ire was up now. Sage always joked that her temper must have come from Mom's Irish side, since otherwise Rosemary was quite calm and balanced. 'You know,' Sage had said, 'Korean traits.'

"Don't have to meet him. I just know."

"How? How could you know that?"

"Because you're the woman for me. I knew that the minute you bumped into me in the Northwest Native art gallery. Therefore, any other man in your life is bound to be an asshole."

"You..." Rosemary was totally out of words. She didn't even know how she felt. Somewhere, deep inside, she sensed he might be right. But she was angry about what he'd said, defensive of Josh, of the amazing night they'd shared. Rosemary wasn't ready to give up sex like that! Or the possibility of something more... permanent.

"Whatever," she said, lamely, at last.

Fabricio chuckled. He picked up his plate and began to head over to the garbage station.

"Just remember: when he shows his true colors -- whoever he is -- I'll be here. Waiting. For you."

Chapter 8: The Chariot

The Chariot confused her from the start. She felt bad about how things had gone with Fabricio. He put on a brave face, but his disappointment was so heavy it hung in the air between them. After dinner they'd said goodbye stiffly, awkwardly. The easy friendliness was gone. Rosemary missed that. In her mind she replayed the scene when she'd told him about Josh. For a moment he had looked as if she'd chucked him from a window... The Tower window, maybe. A look of shock and betrayal. Though she knew this wasn't fair -- after all, it's not like they were a couple or anything -- Rosemary still stewed on it.

So The Chariot bothered her, because the first thing she thought about when she saw it was Fabricio. The card depicted a cart with two huge wheels, drawn by a pair of Egyptian-style sphinxes. A man sat inside the chariot, holding the reins. He projected an air of strength and purpose -- much like Fabricio, with his clear plans for the future, his confidence in stating what he wanted and how he would go about getting it.

Rosemary remembered his words then: "I'm looking for the woman, you know what I mean?" She knew exactly what he meant. And this damn Tarot card seemed to be mocking her, telling her how stupid she'd been to treat Fabricio so badly. The man in the card was in control of his wheels, and his heart. Shit, she thought. I really messed up last night. Somehow I have to make it up to him.

She stewed on it all day at work. It gnawed at her so much, she could barely concentrate. Finally, making the most of her lunch hour, she did something rash. She dialed his number.

"Hello?" came his voice over the phone. He sounded wary, suspicious.

"Fabricio. Hi," she said, all in one breath.

"What's up?"

"I... well, I've been thinking about last night. I wanted to apologize. I get the feeling I really wasn't nice to you."

"It's cool. I'm over it."

"I know, but... would it be all right if I came over to your place tonight? Just so I can explain in person?"

There was a stunned pause. Then he said, "Sure. I guess. On my way to class now, though, so gotta be quick."

"Can you text me your address?"

"Will do."

"Thanks, Fabricio. See you later."

"Bye."

Rosemary hung up. She realized her heart was fluttering heavily. Why did she feel so nervous? No, it isn't nervousness -- it's anticipation. Wow. Am I really that excited to see where he lives?

Her phone beeped, displaying an address typed into the text. She put it into her bus app, got the route, and impatiently counted the hours. Five o'clock couldn't come too soon.

*

Rosemary didn't know the U District too well. It's where all the University of Washington students lived, shopped, and hung out, and since she'd only gone to community college, it had never been part of her scene. The bus let her out very close to Fabricio's place. It was just across the street, in fact: a new-looking, tall residential building with tons of windows. She texted "I'm here," and waited outside.

Fabricio was down in a couple minutes, smiling, but with a coolness that he hadn't shown to her before. She walked in and, hesitating, bent down to give him a somewhat awkward hug. Though not sure it was quite appropriate at this point in their friendship, hugging just felt like the right thing to do. Fabricio must have agreed, because he gave her a quick squeeze, and when she stepped back his smile was natural again.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

"So," he stretched out his arms in a grand gesture, "Welcome to the dorm."

"Wait a minute... this is a dorm?"

Fabricio chuckled. "Yeah, well, it's not the Ritz."

"I guess I thought... well, actually, I didn't even think about it. Just assumed you must live in an apartment."

"Nah, I'm an RA. Saves a ton of money on rent. Plus the job comes with a small stipend, and that mostly makes up for the tedium of babysitting eighteen-year-olds. Come on up, I'm on the sixth floor."

Feeling miserably uneducated, Rosemary followed him to the elevator. He'd already pushed the buttons when she finally got up the courage to ask him the question.

"What is an RA, exactly?"

"Resident Assistant. There's one of us on each floor. Basically we live on campus full-time, help out the residents as needed, make sure all the kids are following the rules. I had to bust a couple for marijuana possession two years ago." Laughing, he added, "'Course, now marijuana's legal, so my job just got that much easier! Still not allowed to smoke indoors, though. Plus it's only 21 and over. Rules."

"Sounds like a good deal, if you get to live here for free."

"Yeah, it's not bad. You never lived in the dorms in college?"

"Community college, remember?" she replied, flatly. "I just lived with my grandparents the whole time."

"I keep on forgetting you didn't go four-year," Fabricio said. "A smart, sophisticated woman like you, I guess it just seems like you'd already done the college thing."

Rosemary couldn't help but laugh. "A little late for that now, I'd say!"

He turned to her, his brow wrinkled earnestly. "No. Not at all. It's never too late to chase your dreams."

They'd arrived on the sixth floor. Fabricio led the way, pointing out the girls' and boys' bathrooms on the way, and greeting people through open doors. Inside, young undergrads studied, ate, watched TV, or chatted. Most of the doors had posters, artwork, corkboards or letter boxes for the roommates inside. Rosemary felt a pang of longing, watching them. She wondered if she'd really missed something, never having the full university experience.

"Here's mine," Fabricio said, pushing open a door. As it swung in, Rosemary noticed a tag, decorated with polka dots, spelling his name on the front. The room was a studio, cozy, with nice light from the window. Fine art posters covered the walls, a tiny fridge and microwave sat in one corner. The bed took up all of one wall, and a desk on the second, cluttered with laptop, books, and papers. A chest of drawers and tiny closet were tucked into a nook by the door. That was about it.