The 7th Tarot Card Read Free Page B

, Victoria. Knew you would enjoy it.
    A feeling of foreboding slithered through me. Could this be connected to the breather calls? If so, the caller also knows my address. Maybe it’s just a gift from a friend of mine who forgot to sign his name. There’s probably a reasonable explanation. But just for the heck of it, I double-checked that my front door and the sliding glass door to my balcony were locked. I’m on the second floor, so my humble abode is not easily accessible, but even so . . . .
    A glass of wine was definitely in order. One great thing about being single is that you can do whatever you want, whenever you want. You can be a slob , and no one yells at you. You can eat ice cream for dinner, and no one yells at you. Basically, no one yells at you.
    I decided to fix a spinach salad, make some popcorn, and watch a movie. You’ve got your greens, your corn, and of course your grapes, so all in all it was a nutritious meal plan. From the cabinet above my stove I pulled my popcorn popper, and as I lifted it out, a bag of pasta came tumbling out along with it, thunking me in the forehead. When I pushed the pasta back in, a bag of potato chips took a dive, so I relocated the chips next to my protein bars and cornflakes in the oven.
    I congratulated myself on my newly reorganized kitchen, popped the popcorn, covered it with a smidgen of butter and dusting of parmesan cheese (your essential dairy family, and who doesn’t need calcium?) then headed into the living room to watch Ghost for the thousandth time. The combination of a nice merlot, the steady rhythm of rain tapping against my windows, and the hunky Patrick Swayze lulled me into a state of relaxation and I slept like a baby.
    How was I to know I was headed for class six rapids?

CHAPTER THREE
    “ A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” —Confucius, Chinese philosopher
    *******
    Sunday began with the familiar drumbeat of rain on the roof. The weatherman on the local news predicted rain showers this morning, heavy rain this afternoon, and steady rain tonight. He ended his forecast by saying, “Hang in there.” Weather-related encouragement is important around here.
    In light of that, my primary objective for the day was exceedingly appropriate. Working out for as little as thirty minutes a day, three times a week, can increase your energy, your sense of wellbeing, and enhance your immune system. With tremendous self-discipline and multiple cups of coffee I resisted the urge to climb back into bed and resumed my quest for self-improvement.
    From beneath Spencer’s bed, I pulled my royal blue, five-pound weights and did a series of upper body moves. Then I progressed to the bench for a few chest flies and military presses. Every girl needs a workout bench for optimal chest fly results. Also, it’s one of the few pieces of exercise equipment that fits into my microscopic condo. Squeezed into my second bedroom between the bed and the wall, it also doubles as a handy suitcase holder for guests, or most often, Spencer’s dirty laundry.
    My goal is to eventually progress to fifteen-pound weights, but that may take some time, since I can barely handle five pounds, and it’s been six months since I started lifting.
    I finished my reps, set the weights down on the floor, and did some stretches. That’s when the phone rang, reminding me that I was expecting a call from potential boyfriend number two, Bladerunner. When I whirled to run to it, I kicked my bare foot into the weights I’d left there in my path.
    Snap .
    Not a good sound to hear when accompanied by intense pain. Blade left a message on my voicemail about where and when to meet, while I hopped around clutching my battered foot, wailing like a wounded hyena.
    Within the hour, I was sitting in the crowded waiting room of the local urgent care clinic, brooding over my swollen toe. I frowned. My vacation was not off to an auspicious start. Where was I going wrong? Maybe I wasn’t