The Practical Romantic by Lisa Watts

Southeastern Louisiana Writing Project

French Quarter Marathon, 2004

Miss Angelle asked me for the hand I write with and I held out my right one to her like an obedient puppy. She took my hand in both of hers and immediately began pressing her thumb into my palm and then smoothing her whole palm across mine. I thought, “Oh, okay. This is going to be like a massage.” It had the characteristics of massaging, what with the pressure and rubbing, and she soothed me into relaxing my hand, trusting her to treat me fairly.

Part of me was standing back from the whole experience, because that part of me, the sensible part, couldn’t believe I was going against my raising and having my palm read. This disbelief was not born of religious objections. My Methodist foundation had not taught me to think of palmistry as the path to damnation. No, the chorus in my head belonged to the voices of my family, and the refrain was of a fool and her money. We’ve just never put stock in such truck, and we certainly wouldn’t throw our money at it. In fact, when it comes to spending her money, my mother lives by the credo that she’s either going to eat it or wear it. So the part of me that agrees with her belief that “dollars = packages” was slightly appalled.

Another part of me, the whimsical part, was thrilled at the romance of it all and to finally have her moment. I was trying to pay attention to Miss Angelle as she marveled over my powerful thumb (Yes, she said it was powerful.), but the whimsical part of me kept saying, “This is so cool!” I deliberately ignored Little Miss Whimsy, because Madame Sensible is the part of me who can be counted on to focus and remember details. The problem with giving her the upper hand (or thumb) was that I had to give Madame Sensible a logical explanation for dragging her to Jackson Square and Miss Angelle in the first place. I rationalized that this was my choice for my evening’s entertainment. The argument was weighed and measured, and then she nodded firmly and said, “Well, okay then. Let’s try to get the most we can out of this.”

Oddly enough, I never intended to have my palm read when I left the Le Richelieu Hotel that evening. I was just tagging along with Tracy, who was determined to have a card reading. “I want to do a card reading” had become her mantra earlier in the day, and I was strictly there for company. But I guess if Tracy said she was going to Hell I’d tag along for that too, so I probably shouldn’t have been surprised to find myself sitting in a chair in the pedestrian mall beside the St. Louis Cathedral holding hands with a complete stranger.

So there I sat, facing Miss Angelle amidst the ambience of candles glowing in the sultry July night. She was obviously much younger than I, but her eyes seemed to hold all the knowledge of an ancient world. Miss Angelle told me that I was focused, outgoing, was sensitive to the arts, and that I knew what I wanted. She went on to say that I had a teacher’s hand—strong, giving, and capable. She said that if I didn’t teach as a profession that I still did something where I worked with people and imparted knowledge. I was intrigued by her observation, but carefully kept my poker face intact. Next, Miss Angelle told me that my love life was obviously happy and fulfilling because my thumb would not tolerate anything less. She traced my love line with her finger and it wrapped around my little finger. I liked the symbolism of that. I liked knowing that my love is bound as tightly to me as I am to him. Miss Angelle said that I was not fully aware of the power I held within my grasp, especially over those who love me. This made Little Miss Whimsy sigh; it made Madame Sensible smile.

Miss Angelle released my hand and picked up her deck of Tarot cards. She fanned them out and asked me to choose three. They were the 7 of Cups, the 9 of Cups, and the 9 of Pentacles. She explained that the cards represented wish fulfillment and prosperity. Miss Whimsy sighed again and Madame Sensible rubbed her hands together. Miss Angelle said, “pick three more,” and I drew the 6 of Pentacles, the 2 of Swords, and the Knight of Wands. She said that the 6 of Pentacles meant that I would have a decision to make regarding the prosperity coming my way; the 2 of Swords represented a crossroads for me connected to the prosperity. Miss Angelle tapped her finger on the Knight of Wands and said this was my one true love ready to shield and protect me from the harsher elements of the world. She assured me that my Knight of Wands was ever faithful to me and would always stand between me and whatever unpleasantness came my way. Well, Miss Whimsy was almost faint from visions of her very own modern-day knight. But Madame Sensible was the real surprise, because this time she was the one who sighed—deeply.