• What The Fortuneteller Told Me

    tarot card in front of santa

    For my fiftieth birthday (many years ago), my dear friend Judy gave me an intriguing present - a session with a fortuneteller who lived in Groton NY. The thirty-mile drive on icy roads to her trailer made me quite nervous.

    A short, friendly, big-bosomed woman introduced herself as Jane, gave me a hug, and invited me into her garage. The entire overheated space was filled with Christmas crap. Colored lights blinked on a large fake tree covered with ornaments. The strong smell of burning incense made it hard to breathe. Many angels, large fake candles, Santas of all sizes, Elves, stuffed dogs, wreaths, and I don’t know what else - made me giggle and relax.

    Jane asked me to sit down opposite her at a card table. She picked up a deck of Tarot cards, shuffled them and showed me the one on top. “This is the ten of cups, she said, “But before we begin, I see a male entity standing behind you.” I turned to look, but saw nothing. “Has your dad passed?” I nodded yes. “Well, he wants me to give you an important message. I don’t understand this, but he wants you to know that he can’t see you in your most private moments.”

    I burst out laughing. I knew exactly what that meant. I did not have a religious background and didn’t believe people who died were up in heaven looking down on me or anyone else, but the first time my husband Harley and I made love after my father died, it flashed through my mind that my Dad might be watching me. That made me very uncomfortable for a few moments, but then I forgot about it and enjoyed what we were doing - until the next time we were in bed making love - when again I had the awful thought that perhaps my Dada could see us, which continued to happen every time Harley and I made love.

    I didn’t explain to the fortuneteller why I had laughed, but I did tell her that I felt relieved and would no longer worry about something that had bothered me ever since my dad had died almost a year ago.

    The card reading session that followed was equally amazing. Jane told me all sorts of true things about my family and my life that she had no way of knowing. Then she said, “Relax and enjoy your life because you are going to be rich.” Well, I’m not rich money-wise by most people’s standards, but we have everything we need. I know I have always been very lucky, and I am so grateful! I believe that is what the fortuneteller meant when she said I would be rich. I wish everyone could have what they need – life is definitely not fair for so many people.

The Whore Next Door is a memoir consisting of 106 short chapters – each accompanied by an original watercolor painting. It is slightly shocking, but not pornographic.