I pick the cards at random, not feeling any particular chakra energy flowing from my fingertips, and hand them to the crone.

The fortuneteller puts the first and second card in a row at the top, the next three cards in a row below, and the last one at the bottom, alone. She turns the first two cards.

“The Fool reversed for you—it seems you’re a bit of a reckless soul. And for your other half, The Tower. Interesting.” She gives a little smile.

“I-interesting how exactly?” I stutter.

“The Tower symbolizes upheaval and a sudden change.”

“You mean because we’re getting married?”

“Perhaps, or perhaps not. Let’s see what the other cards have to say.” She smiles knowingly.

So far, so bad. The other three cards are unveiled next.

“The Wheel of Fortune for the thread that connects you to your love. The Wheel of Fortune’s a powerful card. It represents karma—you can’t escape it. Next, The Devil, reversed, for your strengths. It states you’re ready to take control. As for your weaknesses, Judgment. This one tells you to pay heed to your inner calling.”

“Meaning?”

“In simpler words, follow your guts. Trust your instinct.”

Whatever. “Great advice,” I say awkwardly.

“And now the final card, the True Love card. The one that reveals if your relationship can be successful.” She turns it and stares at it silently for a while before fixating her yellow eyes on me. “Death.”

“Oh, that sounds promising.” I snort.

“Death, my dear, is a symbol of transformation and of new beginnings.”

“So what do you make of this entire… uh,” I try to remember the word she used, “spread?”

“You’re about to meet your fate.”

“So, I’m—uh—not making a mistake getting married?”

“When the moment comes, just follow your heart, darling, and you’ll be fine.”

I don’t pay much attention as Amelia gets her future predicted, and when we leave the room, it isn’t one minute too soon for me. The old hag has unsettled me.

We wait for the others in the limo, and I hope those burgers really are gourmet because I need a cheer up after that ominous Death card.

The burgers are great. After two or three cocktails, any thought of a relationship’s demise flies out of my head and I’m cozily beginning to feel ready for bed. Amelia seems to have read my mind when she announces the final stop of my party.

“And now, ladies, back to my house for a pajama party and a showing of all our favorite Molly Ringwald movies.”

I cheer along with the others. “Thank you for making this day so special,” I whisper to Amelia.

She hushes me.

“Where did you put Dylan? Is he watching Molly Ringwald with us?”

“He’s staying at Richard’s. They’re having his stag party tonight too.”

“Oh gosh, I hope they don’t buy him strippers.”