109 - Gypsies, Tramps and...Kittens

“What’s up with that?” Tony asked when Sheridan’s head whipped toward the five of them as they approached the fortune teller setup.  Her eyes were as big as some of those cartoons Romeo and Jake watched, and Jon wouldn’t be surprised if they bugged out like he’d seen some of those animated characters do.

“Ya got me,” Jon murmured, a little unease settling between his shoulders.  “Keep the boys with you while I find out.”

“Alright.”  Raising his voice, Tony addressed the younger Bongiovis.  “Guys, let’s go hit the arcade.  I’m pretty sure I can kick all of your butts at skee-ball.”

“But that’s a gypsy,” Jake needlessly informed them, pointing at the woman Jon remembered to be Madame Zizska.  However, it wasn’t she that Sheridan was having an animated conversation with; it was that college kid… Zee.  “I wanna go see if she has a crystal ball.”

“She doesn’t have a crystal ball – now go to the arcade with Tony.  I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

Jon had infused his voice with an authority that he typically reserved for the times when he meant real business.  Clearly his children were unfamiliar with this tone and the reason for it.  He was going to have to use it more often.

“How do you know she doesn’t?” Romeo chimed in, immediately followed by Jesse quietly asking if everything was okay.

Things were okay, Jon was sure.  The fledgling psychic and her matriarch weren’t exactly ominous, but whatever the conversation… it had his wife wigging out.  Her arms were crossed protectively over the babies when her hands weren’t whizzing agitatedly through the air and her stance indicated she wasn’t anywhere near finished with the conversation.

“I just know,” he bit out, trying to keep his annoyance in check.  Why couldn’t kids just do what they were told instead of questioning everything like he’d taught them to?  “And everything’s fine.  I’m going to get Sheridan and we’ll meet you in the arcade.  G’wan.”

Grumbling ensued, but Tony managed to convince them that there was an oversized animal of some sort waiting to be won with their combined Bongiovi skill and ingenuity.  Hand at his side, Jon threw a couple of fingers up in thanks to his brother.

Now to see what had his wife bent out of shape.

“You’re sure?” she was quizzing like a seasoned interrogator when he stepped up to the table and stood beside her.  Sparing him no more than a glance when he settled his hand into the small of her back with an inquisitive look, she focused all of her attention on getting answers out of the young woman. 

Jon nodded a silent greeting to the actual gypsy of the tent, who was watching the exchange between her granddaughter and Sheridan as she unwrapped what looked to be a pita sandwich.  It was almost as though she’d bought a ticket to a show.

Or she’s supervising.

“I’m very sure,” Zee insisted, flipping one of her two braids back over her shoulder.  “He is the one I saw.  He’s the one who started the turmoil that’s been following you.”

“Who?”  Jon had his own fair share of interrogation skills.

Now Sheridan turned to give him her full, discontented attention.  Her mouth was  pursed into an unpleasant pucker when flatly stating, “Romeo.”

“No.”  His denial came vehemently without hesitation.  “Huh-uh.  Absolutely not.  There’s no way.”

“I’ll tell you what I told your wife:  Your lack of belief has no impact on the truth.  I’m sorry if this displeases you, but it is what it is.”

He wasn’t buying it.  There was no way in hell that his son called TMZ and gave them a lead on anything.  The boy didn’t know half the information that had been leaked.  Sarcasm dripped from his lips along with the words.  “Because Romeo knew about Madison and the twins, right?”

Sheridan sighed with frustration at either the truth or his sarcasm.  Jon wasn't sure which.  “No.  He didn’t.”

“Would you like Zelda to give you another reading?”

The quiet offer came from Madame Zizska, who had now re-wrapped her unfinished sandwich and tucked it into a bag on her lap. Husband and wife both looked to her, but their expressions couldn’t have been any more different.  Whereas Sheridan was intrigued by the idea, wondering if it might help solve their problem, Jon was ready to tell the woman exactly what the teenager could do with her reading.

His refusal was overridden by the determined blonde at his side, whose, “Would you, please?” drowned out his, “Not in this lifetime.”

“Grandmother, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Well at least the kid is on my side.

“Why not, Zelda?  I can tell that you already sense things.  Why not share them with her?”

One doleful look at Jon and the reason was obvious to everyone – including Jon, who didn’t really care that he was be perceived as the bad guy.  He didn’t want to know what she ‘sensed’, especially if it was more dire gloom and doom. 

Life wasn’t intended to be lived in advance.  The current moment gave you the strength to get through the next one.  There was a logical order to things.  Good times built you up enough to cope with the bad and, if they had gloom and doom ahead, they also had a right to live in blissful ignorance until then. 

His wife, however, saw things a little differently.

Pulling at his elbow until he was facing away from the fortune teller’s table, she brought her face close to his and whispered, “I want to do this.”

“And I think it’s borrowing trouble,” he replied, not bothering to whisper.

“I’m not asking your permission, Jon.  She’s going to give me the reading, but I am asking you to let her give you one, too.  And if you do…  I will reward you handsomely.”  Her hand slid up the front of his t-shirt, scratching at his chest through the thin fabric.  “Until you beg me not to.”

He felt his eyebrows shoot up beneath the brim of his cap and he pulled his sunglasses down to look directly into her eyes.   Now he opted to whisper, keeping their deliberation on a personal level. “You’re bribing me with sex?  Sex I was already gonna get?  Not very effective negotiating.”

She stood on her toes, sliding a hand around the nape of his neck to pull him close.  Her next words tickled both his ear and his libido with their breathiness.  “Not just sex.  I will do all manner of depraved, dirty, slutty and shameful things just to be your ‘good girl’.”

His dick jumped in his pants and Jon almost forgot where they were.  “Jesus, woman.  Where the hell did that come from?  You’ve got some screwed up timing.”

Pulling back, she smirked at him.  “But can I negotiate?”

How the hell could he deny her anything?  She’d just pulled the rug completely out from under him, to the point he didn’t give a rat’s ass who read what as long as they did it quickly and Shutters had a room ready as soon as they hit the front door. 

Jon rolled his eyes in an effort to appear aloof and unimpressed with her tactics, but an unbidden smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.   “Yeah, you can negotiate.  Now sit your ass down and let’s get this over with.”

She didn’t waste any time moving the bags out of the chair and Madame Zizska relinquished her seat to Zee, who still didn’t appear all that excited about the turn her day had taken.  Her face was very guarded as she sat and held up an open palm, silently requesting Sheridan’s hand.

Draping himself over the second chair, he leaned back and unobtrusively checked his watch.  Jon vainly hoped this wouldn’t take more than a few minutes.  He’d rather be playing skee-ball with his kids.  Hell, he’d rather be having a root canal.

“Sir, you’re clouding your wife’s energy with your negativity,” Zee spoke mildly.  “It would be helpful if you could try and keep an open mind.”

Sheridan’s sandaled foot came into hard contact with his.  He was outnumbered.  The only solution he could find to his negativity was to start imagining what types of dirty, slutty things his wife might actually do tonight.  That was infinitely more pleasant than a palm reading – although it could make his palm red under the right circumstances.

“That’s better.  Thank you.”  The girl slowly rotated Sheridan’s crimson-tipped hand over, and then reversed the movement to return it to its original position.  Her palm stroked gently across its surface and she took a deep breath before saying softly, “There is a cloudy residue that surrounds you.  Remnants of unpleasantness that you have endured in past weeks.   This unpleasantness is not finished, but the end will come with a bittersweet victory.  It will not bring the satisfaction you want.  It will only bring more discord.”

The deep furrowing of her forehead had Jon paying closer attention than he felt inclined to, but the kid had a presence about her that commanded attention. 

“So this is the rest of my life.  Unpleasantness and discord.”

“I can’t speak for the rest of your life,” the girl qualified, her bespectacled eyes finding Sheridan’s.  “But for the short-term… perhaps.  True happiness will find you through…  This is very strange, but I’m sensing that you’re going to find purpose and soul-deep peace with… kittens.”

The way his wife’s face lit up when she pivoted toward him made this painful endeavor worth his time.  The kid had basically just told her that she was going to be a good mother, which is all she’d ever wanted to know since January.  It didn’t matter that he, her parents, his parents, her sister, her best friend and the rest of their collective families and friends had repeatedly told her the same thing.  This preppy little psychic’s prediction was what made her face glow.

“That’s it,” Sheridan declared, gently withdrawing her hand.  “I don’t want to know any more.  I can be content with nothing more than that.  Thank you.  Now it’s your turn, Jon.”

She was nudging his elbow in a wordless directive to give the mini-mystic his palm, but now he had a whole new reason not to want to do it.  This girl actually saw something.  Maybe it was only miniscule snippets here and there, but there was at least some truth behind her ‘visions’.   Those kittens were way too strange a coincidence otherwise.

When Sheridan kicked him again, he swallowed a sigh and scooted to the edge of the chair to obediently present his hand.

Zelda seemed almost as reluctant to accept it as he was to give it.  Her touch was feather light when palming his knuckles and she barely grazed the surface of his skin when pulling unpolished fingertip along the grooves of his palm.

“I see that you are a man who loves his family.”

“Don’t most people?”

She cut her eyes up at him, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge the wiseass commentary.  Sarcasm was one of his self-defense mechanisms when he was uncomfortable.  Not that Jon would ever admit the little witch made him nervous.  

“You trust too easily, though most wouldn’t believe it of you.  You trust until you are given a reason not to.  Many people have broken that trust, some intentionally and some not.  Some that you are even unaware of.”

He did…not…like this shit.  It took a mental reminder of sexual favors and his wife’s glowing face to convince him to leave his hand where it was.

“I see objects that are significant,” she continued thoughtfully, concentrating on his flesh as though she saw them there.  “There’s a dagger with wings… two snakes… and a microphone.”

If he were to fully buy into this he would hypothesize that the microphone was a no brainer since he sang for a living.  Not that he was a complete egomaniac, but there was better than a fair chance that this girl knew who he was.  That explanation also covered the dagger and wings, seeing as it pretty well described the band’s logo.  The two snakes, he chose not to focus on.  There were too many implications there that he didn’t like. 

“Okay, thank ya very much.”   Jon withdrew his hand and procured his press smile to bestow upon Zee and her grandmother.  With his sunglasses on, they would never be able to tell that it didn’t reach his eyes.  “I think I’ve heard enough now.  I appreciate your time, as does my wife I’m sure, but we need to catch up with the rest of our family.  What do I owe ya for the readings?”

The diminutive gypsy’s chin lifted as though he had insulted her.  “Money, I don’t want.  You can pay by showing mercy when the time comes for it.”