The Future’s in the Palms

A strikingly beautiful woman with a long flowing skirt read my palm once.

She was a co-worker and her offer to read my palm came after she noticed the persistent hangdog expression on my face after my boyfriend dumped me for Miss Utah. You will think now that my calling my boyfriend’s new love interest Miss Utah is hyperbole, but it is not. He really did leave me for a person who had very recently been Miss Utah, which I guess means she was in the Miss America pageant with whathisname – Bert Parks!

But here’s the deal (and I didn’t think about this until just now and please note this tragic event happened a very long time ago), Miss Utah lost! At least I think she did. If she’d won, wouldn’t my boyfriend have said he was leaving me for Miss America? Wouldn’t that have been a sharper dagger?

Anyway, Helen in the long flowing skirt was quite elegant and regal. She was also Black and very tall, often wearing a silk shawl with fringe to add to the overall dreaminess of her presence. I was a beige corduroy blur beside her. I could’ve been wearing last year’s school uniform, I was that non-descript or so I thought, lack of confidence and self-awareness also being issues at that time in my life.

Helen took my right hand in her two hands. She lightly massaged my hand and looked in my eyes. Then she gently turned my hand palm side up and began to trace the lines and creases with her index finger.

“You will marry again and have four children.”

It was preposterous. I had been divorced for several years. I was a single parent of one little girl. And I had no prospects, especially after having lost the bathing suit competition. (I would not have lost the question-and-answer portion.)

“Trust me,” Helen said. “You’ll see.”

And I did.

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Photo by Wil Stewart on Unsplash