text: Ethan was not a believer in the paranormal, nor was he a religious or spiritual man in any sense, yet there he was, sitting in the parking lot of Sister Sasha the Clairvoyant’s office. Penny turned to him from the passenger seat. “I know you’re skeptical, but thanks for doing this with me. I promise Sasha’s the real deal. I’ve been to her so many times and I always feel a sort of high when I leave.” Ethan smiled. “‘Skeptical’ is definitely a good word for it,” he said. “But hey, I’m always open to new experiences. Besides, this is easily one of the coolest date ideas anyone’s ever pitched me.” “If you’re not impressed after this, you get to pick our next 10 dates,” Penny returned playfully. “That is, if you still want to see me after this. My interest in this sort of thing has turned off many a suitor over the years.” “I can’t imagine why,” Ethan responded, just as playfully. This was only the couple’s second date; the first had been a standard affair of dinner and a movie which ended pleasantly enough with a brief kiss and a mutual promise to schedule another. They were still only getting to know each other, but Ethan already saw a great deal of potential in Penny, and he could only hope that she saw the same in him. Truth be told, her interest in the mystical did not deter him; if anything, it intrigued him. He had never been with someone quite like her. *Maybe I could use a little mysticism*, he thought. “Well, here goes nothing,” Ethan said with a sigh as he turned off the car’s ignition. They had arrived just in time for their scheduled appointment -- a “spiritual reading.” Penny clutched his hand and squeezed as they walked toward the office, making her excitement known. The building’s exterior was fairly unassuming -- without the colorful sign bearing Sister Sasha’s name, it could just as easily have been an accountant’s office. Once they stepped inside, though, there was no mistaking what kind of ambience Sister Sasha was trying to establish. The walls were painted cobalt blue and lined with psychedelic tapestries, and the floors were decorated with rugs sporting similar patterns. “Don’t let the décor deter you,” Penny whispered. “She just does this to meet people’s expectations of what a clairvoyant’s office *should* look like.” Ethan chuckled. “Well, she’s done that quite well.” They approached the front desk, where an aged, tiny woman sat behind a computer monitor that looked nearly as old as she was. “Hey there, Mary Anne,” Penny said in a friendly tone. “Oh, Penny! How have you been, darling?” It was clear to Ethan that Penny was not exaggerating how frequently she had visited Sister Sasha. “I was wondering when you’d grace us with your presence again, love.” “Hangin’ in there,” Penny replied cheerfully. “Oh, and I see you’ve brought a fresh face along with you.” The old woman squinted at her monitor. “Let’s see here... Ethan, is it? Well, sonny, I sure hope you find what you’re looking for today.” Ethan was not sure what he was looking for. “Ha, thanks. Me too.” “And it looks like you two got here just on time. Sister Sasha will see you whenever you’re ready.” She smiled and gestured toward a curtain of beads to her left which served as a doorway into a dimly lit room. “Awesome. Thanks, Mary Anne!” Penny took Ethan by the hand and led him through the curtain, into the room where their souls would be inspected. If the waiting room had been a bit gaudy, Sister Sasha’s office was extravagantly so. Ethan glanced about the area and found that the full force of the cobalt blue motif was exerted here. Everywhere he looked -- the rugs, the tapestries, the walls -- there was blue. The low light of the room did serve to give the color a mystical aura, he thought. Shelves lined the walls, although not all were filled with books. Many of them housed crystals and stones of all colors, shapes and sizes. His limited knowledge of geology made it impossible to discern if they were authentic, though. One shelf was filled with small skulls; perhaps they were birds, or rodents. There were no windows, most likely because natural light would pollute the carefully curated ambience. At the center of the room was a large table, behind which Sister Sasha reclined on a black leather chair. “So, this is where the magic happens,” Ethan mumbled awkwardly. “You’ve got that right, my dear,” Sister Sasha said with a grin. She was a slender, tall woman well into the latter half of her life, and she spoke with a deep, raspy voice. “And Penny, it’s always a pleasure to see you.” She extended her hand, and Penny took it in her own and kissed it. Ethan hoped he would not have to do the same. Thankfully, she did not extend a hand toward him once Penny was finished; she merely gestured toward the two seats at the opposite side of the table. “Please sit down, you two. I’m sure we have much to discuss.” And so they sat, and there was a brief silence as Sister Sasha studied each of them in turn. Ethan smiled timidly, unsure if he was permitted to speak. He had no idea what she was looking for. Eventually, Sister Sasha unfolded her hands and clapped loudly. “Okay, then. Shall we begin?” The first two sections of their reading went about as Ethan had expected they would. First, the clairvoyant asked broad questions about their lives, and offered even broader insights into their desires and their troubles. *Why yes, I do have apprehensions about my career. Oh, and yes, I am a little scared of growing old. How could you possibly have guessed?* He recognized that he was being cynical, but he was admittedly having fun. Next came the tarot card readings; these yielded similarly predictable results. Ethan was quite pleased that both he and Penny had chosen to delve into the “Lovers” card, however, as Sister Sasha presented them both with a rather optimistic forecast. “You’ve both recently embarked on a journey that will lead you to true love, unconditional and unrelenting,” the clairvoyant said. Ethan and Penny turned to each other and smiled then, and Penny blew him a kiss. *Let’s hope she actually is the real deal*, Ethan thought. Finally, it came time for the palm readings, perhaps the aspect of the consultation Ethan was most skeptical of. Penny went first, and they learned that she had been a seamstress in a past life, and that she was carrying a deep regret with her everywhere she went as a result of a mistake she made many years ago. To Ethan’s surprise, Penny said she hit the nail on the head with that observation. He had no idea what that mistake might have been, but he was sure he would find out in time, and if not, so be it -- besides, it was likely none of his business. When it was time for Ethan to offer up the secrets of his palm, he extended his hand over the table and Sister Sasha grasped it in hers. She studied the lines for a moment, and then a moment longer. It seemed that she was having much more difficulty with him than she had with Penny. As she studied, she began to nod, as if someone were whispering in her ear. Ethan looked at Penny, and she shrugged, as if to say, “I have no clue what she’s doing.” The room was dead silent. The clairvoyant eventually raised her head, but she did not look at Ethan; she seemed to be staring at something just behind him, over his shoulder. She was still nodding every so often, and after a while, a smile crept across her face. Confused, Ethan and Penny turned to see what she was looking at, but as far as they could tell, nothing in the room had changed. This carried on for three long minutes, but the strange silence made it feel like 30. Finally, when Sister Sasha had heard or seen what she needed to hear or see, her gaze returned to Ethan. He was sure he could see hints of tears welling in her eyes, as if she had stumbled upon something incredibly moving. *She’s either an amazing actress or she really did just experience something spectacular*, he thought. “African violets,” Sister Sasha whispered. “If you remember nothing else about this visit, remember African violets.” Ethan did not have the faintest idea what that meant. “Erm... Is that some sort of flower?” Sister Sasha smiled. “Yes, my dear.” His hand, now uncomfortably sweaty, was still clutched within the clairvoyant’s. “Sorry, but what am I supposed to do with that? Am I meant to get African violets *for* someone?” Sister Sasha nodded, and she once again lifted her head to peer over his shoulder. “For *her*.” Ethan suddenly felt chills rush through his body. For a brief moment, he thought he felt a hand rest upon his shoulder. Startled, he swung his head around to see who was behind him, but there was no one else in the room. He turned back to face Sister Sasha, and he was sure his confusion was plain to see. “Pardon my French, but what the fuck just happened?” The clairvoyant chuckled and released his hand before reclining back into her chair with a sigh. “It looks like we’re just about out of time, lovebirds. I do hope you’ve found this as impactful as I have.” Ethan turned to Penny with a look intended to convey his complete confusion. She smiled wide, as if this was exactly what she had hoped would occur. Penny stood and shook Sister Sasha’s hand. “I know I have,” she said with pure delight. “I’ll be back before you know it!” Ethan, still on edge and struggling to find words to express how he felt, followed suit. Penny took Ethan by the hand, leading him out of Sister Sasha’s chamber and back to the front desk, where she paid for their visit and exchanged pleasantries with Mary Anne. Ethan was mostly quiet, still attempting to make sense of the bizarre advice and the phantom hand. Only once they returned to the car, back in the world of the living, did he allow himself to speak freely. “Did you see anyone else in the room with us at any point? Mary Anne, maybe?” Penny smiled. “No... Why?” “I swear that I felt a hand on my shoulder, right after she said the thing about the flowers.” At that, Penny laughed. “I told you she was the real deal.” “Oh, come on. I’m not making this up. There must have been someone else...” “Well, stranger things have happened.” Ethan let out a long sigh. He refused to believe that he had been touched by a spirit, but he also knew he was unlikely to get any concrete answers from Penny. “Stranger things really haven’t happened to me, but if you say so.” “The mystery is part of the fun! Be honest, you liked it.” “I mean, if being thoroughly creeped out qualifies as enjoyment, then yeah, you could say that. Were you not freaked out by that bit at the end? What was she staring at? What was all of that about the flowers?” Penny shrugged. “Sister Sasha works in mysterious ways. Maybe it’ll make sense someday. I’m just happy you got *something* out of it.” All Ethan could manage was a smile. “Okay... You won. I’m pretty impressed. I guess I won’t be picking our next 10 dates after all.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on Penny’s cheek. “Victory!” Penny was beaming. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I know a really cute diner around the corner. Let’s get a bite to eat.” **∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙** Mother’s Day was always a somber occasion for Ethan, and this one was even more so. For the first time in roughly a decade, he had made the journey halfway across the country to visit his hometown. He would stay with his father, with whom he spoke infrequently in his adulthood, and together they would visit his mother’s grave. She had passed away when he was only a boy, and he was ashamed to admit that he had not visited her burial site in well over 20 years. The entire trip made him uneasy -- the exhausting and tedious drive, seeing his father after so long, visiting what remained of his mother. But at least he had Penny with him. Over six months had passed since they began seeing each other and, by all accounts, they were a perfectly happy couple. Ethan seldom thought about their visit to Sister Sasha, but he did remember what she said about their love lives -- it seemed she had gotten that prediction right, at the very least. They had even recently started discussing the prospect of living together. Ethan had assured Penny she need not accompany him on his voyage, but she insisted rather adamantly that she wanted to join him, and for that, he was grateful. “I think it’s so sweet that you’re putting in all of this effort,” she said. “I’d regret it if I wasn’t there for you. Besides, I want to see the town that made you who you are. If it made you, it can’t be all bad.” *She’s a keeper*, he thought. Together, they traversed the aisles of a florist’s shop half an hour away from his childhood home, where his father still resided. He thought it was only fair that he should bring his mother some flowers to make up for the lost time. Penny held his hand as they weighed the options. “Were you close with your mom growing up?” “I think so,” Ethan responded. “Honestly, a lot of our time together is a blur now. I was so young when she died, but she was a good mom from what I can remember.” As an adult, family never meant much to Ethan. He was grateful that his parents raised him as best they could, but he never yearned to reconnect with the figures of his childhood. In his view, they were all behind him now. They crossed rows upon rows of flowers -- anemones, irises, lilies and more -- but none of them stood out. Penny asked, “What about your dad?” Ethan considered for a moment, then sighed. “I think he tried his hardest. My mom’s death hit him hard, though. I don’t think he ever really got over it, not that anyone could expect him to. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been. I feel like a bad son saying this, but the word I’d use to describe my childhood is ‘forgettable.’” “That doesn’t make you a bad son, Ethan. Everyone has different priorities.” “You’re right. It’s just tough looking back on those days. Maybe if my mom had lived, things would have been different...” Suddenly, Ethan stopped walking as a particular bouquet caught his eye. The flowers were a vibrant purple. He inspected the sign underneath it, which read, “Streptocarpus sect,” followed by... “African violets,” he whispered. All at once, memories of his unsettling encounter with Sister Sasha came flooding back. Perhaps he had blocked the incident out of his mind because it was so difficult to rationalize, but now, he remembered it all -- the clairvoyant’s disconcerting stare, the mysterious touch, the African violets. He turned to Penny and she smiled, seeming to understand precisely what he was thinking. It was clear that she remembered, as well. While he was sure that stumbling upon the flowers was merely a coincidence, he did find them stunning, in any case. He picked up the bouquet, and he knew he was making the right decision. “Thanks, Sister Sasha,” he said. The rest of the drive was mostly quiet, as Penny took in the rural scenery that she had only been exposed to through movies and photographs prior to their trip. “It’s charming, in a way,” she commented as they passed seemingly endless acres of farmland. “From an outsider’s perspective, I can see that,” Ethan offered. “Having grown up here, though, I have to say a lot of its charm is lost on me.” “I don’t know, I kind of like how quiet it is. City life is so busy. Maybe we can retire here, one day.” She looked at him with a smirk, knowing how unappealing that idea would be to him. “Maybe *you* can,” he responded with a soft chuckle. They soon arrived at Ethan’s childhood home, a quaint two-story house nestled within a densely wooded area that was a stark contrast to the flat pastures they had spent the last few hours traversing. A long and winding gravel driveway led to the dwelling. Everything looked exactly as Ethan remembered, right down to his father’s old, dented pickup truck parked beside the worn front porch. Ethan parked the car, letting out a deep sigh. *Why am I so nervous?* Apparently, Penny could sense his trepidation, as she placed a reassuring hand on his thigh. “It’s going to be okay, babe,” she said with confidence. “There’s nothing to be anxious about.” He forced a smile. “I know. I’m just in my head. Shouldn’t I be happy to see him?” “I’m sure you will be once you start catching up with him,” she replied. “Come on, let’s go in.” Ethan nodded, then turned off the car’s ignition. He retrieved the bouquet from the trunk, ascended the front porch steps and knocked on the door. A few moments passed before the sound of footsteps emerged from the other side and the door squeaked open. His father stood hunched in the doorway. *He looks so much older*, Ethan thought. *Where has all the time gone?* They briefly stood in silence, before smiles grew upon both of their faces. “Ethan!” His father outstretched his arms, clearly elated. Ethan followed suit and embraced him in a hug. “It’s good to see you, dad.” That was not a lie -- to his surprise, he actually was happy to see him. His father turned his attention toward Penny, and they introduced themselves, shaking hands amiably. “Come in, you two! I’ve got coffee brewing.” Upon stepping into the foyer, Ethan was overcome with a wave of emotions -- nostalgia, regret, sadness. *This is so long overdue*, he thought. *Why did it take me so long to come back? Why did I leave him here, all alone?* That initial smile never left his father’s face. He led Ethan and Penny to the kitchen, where he had prepared the table with coffee mugs and bowls of chopped fruit. “It’s been a while since I’ve had company,” he said as he began filling the mugs. “Excuse me if things are a bit messy.” Ethan felt quite sad at that admission, and he struggled to find the right words. Thankfully, Penny responded first: “Oh, not at all! This place is gorgeous. You didn’t tell me it was going to be so pretty, Ethan!” “That’s kind of you to say,” his father responded. It was not until he began returning the filled mugs to the table that he caught sight of the bouquet still clutched in Ethan’s hand. He studied them for a while, as if he was caught off guard. Although he was still smiling, tears began to well in his eyes, and then they began to streak down his weathered face. Ethan was startled. “What’s wrong, dad?” This was the first time he had ever seen his father cry. Even when his mother died, he never allowed his pain to be seen by others. “Are those... What do you have there, son?” Confused, Ethan glanced down at the bouquet, and then again at his father. “These? Flowers... For mom...” His father fruitlessly attempted to wipe away his tears. “African violets?” Ethan glanced at Penny, who wore a look of concern. “Yeah, dad... African violets. Why?” His voice was shaking as he replied, “African violets were your mother’s favorite.