its cobblestones, builds its beautiful palaces, and fuels the stone guardians overlooking the skyline. It’s so easy to fall in love, but to stay in love?”
My aunt kept dropping hints of a tragic romance, but it was never enough to piece together a coherent narrative. If she hadn’t said a word, I wouldn’t be so tantalized with the infinite possibilities of what could have happened. The aunties back home never suspected a thing until the sale of the Victorian.
“What was your time in Paris like?” I asked. “You mentioned you stayed in the city before.”
“I had studied French in college. It was only natural I visit. Spending my days in this city changed me.” My aunt busied herself arranging the madeleines on a large plate. Afterward, she moved to the sink and turned the tap on full, shutting down any avenues for further discussion.
I puckered my lips into a grimace at her reticence. She accused me of being stubborn, yet her current maneuver was equivalent to the childish tactic of covering one’s ears and singing to drown out all noise. I tried it once with Ma when I was five. She let me live, providing I wouldn’t ever do it again.
Aunt Evelyn seemed preoccupied with washing every piece of the tea service. Twice. When she was done, she rearranged the jars behind the counter while brewing the second tea sample for the day. She poured me a cup. “Oolong. A refreshing blend of white peach and eucalyptus.”
I took the tea and sipped it. The combination of the minty edge and the bright citrus of the peach was soothing. My aunt was passionate about tea, and it showed in the complex flavor profiles of her blends. She enjoyed discovering new ingredients.
“As no one else is here, you shouldn’t get a prediction.” She wiped an invisible crumb from the counter. “The trick today is to have one without the tea.”
I responded with a cheerful smile and hoped I could do what she had asked of me. “Do you have any tips on how this is supposed to happen?”
“I can tell you how it happens for me, but I don’t know if it will be the same for you.” She cupped her chin and furrowed her brow. “Relax and let it come to you. It should be painless. Aunt Charlotte told me that reaching a state of serenity is ideal. You want to be the perfect conduit.”
“So wait for it to come to me?”
“Yes. This is supposed to be natural. Exposure to the customers coming in today should help you. You can’t see futures without the people they are tied to.” Aunt Evelyn walked to the door and unlocked it. She held the sign. “Are you ready?”
I straightened the collar of my blouse as a slight tremble constricted my fingers.
Moments after my aunt unlocked the door, a young couple strolled in with their son. The father, with light brown hair, carried a backpack, which his wife rummaged through. She withdrew a small plastic container full of tiny animal crackers and shook the tub at her son. The little boy streaked around the shop with wobbly legs, giggling, and smearing his hands on every glossy surface. Judging by his unsteady gait, he must have been close to two. My cousin Farah had a toddler close to the same age. The bursts of energy from her child were in direct correlation to the dark smudges under her eyes that Korean makeup couldn’t conceal.
When the boy ran to the windowsill where the flower vases were, I rushed forward to prevent one from being pulled down. His parents chastised him for the action while his bottom lip quivered. Fat tears spilled down his rounded, reddened cheeks. He pointed at the peonies. One rose above the others, its long stem stretching closer to the small, outstretched fingers.
I glanced over at my aunt and caught her slight nod. With her approval, I plucked a puffy, white blossom and offered it to him.
His unabashed squeal of delight caused us all to laugh. He buried his face in its petals and clutched the stem in his hand. Having won his prize, he took his mother’s hand while snacking on the animal crackers.
I returned to my place behind the counter and tried to clear my head. Once my mind was empty, I waited for a prediction to come to me as my aunt instructed. My tongue searched inside my mouth for the elusive taste, the telltale formation of any prophecy.
Nothing.
My aunt’s vague