“Mom, I’m sure Greg and Marcia aren’t interested in hearing about astrology,” Josh says.

“Well let me tell you something, when this here little lady read my planets for me that one time, it was downright eerie,” says Seamus. “You guys should really let her do your chart; it’ll blow your mind.” He takes a swig of beer.

“Chart? What kind of chart?” asks Marcia.

“Astrological chart,” I answer reluctantly. I know Josh doesn’t want me to go down the astrology road with them. “It basically tells you what sign each planet was in during the time of your birth, and where each planet was in the sky.”

“Really? Why would you need to know that?”

Josh is beginning bristle. But it was his mother who brought up astrology, not me. And now that we’re into the conversation, it would be rude to of me to rebuff her questions.

I answer, “It can give you great insight into your personality. You can also use your chart to study transits, synnastry…”

“And play all sorts of other stupid, superstitious parlor games,” Josh interrupts flippantly.

I’m stunned. I can’t believe he just said that. He’s just insulted me in front of everyone who knows I’m an astrologer, which is all but two of our guests.

I try to remain composed but I’m afraid it’s apparent that my voice is straining. “Parlor games? That’s what you think astrology is?”

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