by Rich Amooi
“Not taking your . . .” She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Madam Love. As if Lilly was in the wrong here? “What advice did I not take?”
“I told you not to mess with nature.”
“I didn’t mess with nature.”
“Oh, yes you did.”
“How?”
Madam Love held out her hand and snapped her fingers. “Fifty dollars and I’ll tell you what you did wrong. I’ll also tell you how you can fix it.”
“It can’t be fixed.”
“Not with that attitude, it can’t.”
Had Lilly really messed with nature? Maybe she had for not telling Marco how she felt and for the way she had said goodbye. She thought there was a possibility.
“Lilly,” said Madam Love, tapping her fingers on the reception counter. “Answer the question. That’s the only way I can help you. Did you mess with nature? Yes or no?”
“It’s a small possibility,” she mumbled.
Madam Love leaned closer. “What was that?”
“It doesn’t matter if I did or not. I screwed up. It’s over.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not over. Fifty bucks or you can be sad for the rest of your life.”
Lilly stared at Madam Love’s outstretched hand. Why was she even considering it now? Maybe because she didn’t want to give up on Marco, that’s why.
Lilly opened her purse and pulled out a credit card, sliding it across the counter. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Madam Love winked. “I knew you would.”
“Oh!” Lilly lunged for the credit card but couldn’t reach it.
Madam Love quickly swiped the card through the machine, smiled, and handed it back to Lilly. “I’m just having fun with you. You need to loosen up.” She handed Lilly the receipt and slid a pen her way. “By the way, I prefer tips in cash, but Uncle Sam doesn’t need to know that.”
Lilly huffed and signed the receipt, leaving it on the counter with the pen. “You expect a tip, too? Wow, you’ve got some serious chutzpah.”
“Thank you for noticing.” Madam Love pulled back the bead curtain and waved Lilly through. “Straight back through the open door. Your future awaits you.”
Lilly ducked under the beads and walked into the room, looking around. It was cozy, dim, except for the light from the numerous battery-powered candles. Everything was red and purple: the curtains, the furniture, even the floor rug.
Across from Madam Love’s chair was a comfy loveseat with over-sized cushions. On the table between the chair and loveseat sat a crystal ball so big she could drill three holes and go bowling with it.
Lilly pointed to the crystal ball. “When we met you told me you didn’t use these things. Too old school for you, I think were your exact words.”
Madam Love nodded. “Some clients insist on the crystal ball and nothing else. I never use it for house calls or Panda Express calls since it’s a bitch to carry around. Okay, let’s get down to business. Take a deep breath and then tell me where it all went wrong.”
Lilly hesitated and then took a deep breath. “You were wrong. Your prediction. What do you have to say about that?”
Madam Love rubbed the crystal ball. “Just to let you know, I’m not rubbing the ball for answers. I just love the way it feels. Smooth. Do you want to touch it?”
“No.”
She removed her hands from the ball and rubbed them together. “Okay then. Regarding your accusation of me being wrong . . . you’re the one who’s wrong.”
“First, the bear you told me I would see wasn’t a bear at all. Well, yes, it was a bear mascot. But not a real bear.”
“I don’t recall telling you you’d see a real bear. I’m sure my exact words were you would see a bear. Did you or did you not see a bear? Real or otherwise?”
“I did, but—”
“No buts. What else do you have an issue with?”
“What about the expensive car you said I would ride in? It belonged to my boss, so it didn’t count.”
“Why doesn’t that count?”
Lilly thought for a moment. She didn’t have a good answer for her. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t count. Okay, forget about that stuff. You told me I would meet my future husband if I left the country.”
“You did.”
Lilly made the sound of a buzzer. “Wrong!” She held up her ring finger. “Do I look engaged to you? Or married? I think not.”
“I told you that you would meet him. I didn’t say you would come home engaged or married.”
“I didn’t meet the one obviously.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Who is it then? Marco? Roberto?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“Not a surprise.”
Madam Love leaned forward in her chair. “Lilly, let me ask you this. Do you want to get married or not? And this is another yes or no question.”
Lilly took another deep breath. “Yes.”
“Good! Then be open to it. I didn’t say you would be married right away. Being open to it, without obsessing over it, sets the wheels in motion.”
“I was open to it.”
“Was isn’t acceptable. Be open to it now. Always. How does the universe know what you want if you keep sending Her mixed signals?”
“Well . . .”
“Knock it off.”
Lilly folded her arms. “You don’t have to be mean about it.”
Madam Love pointed to Lilly. “I’m not being mean. I’m being firm. Unfold your arms.”
Lilly hesitated and then unfolded her arms.
“Good. Now listen up. You have to be open . . . physically and mentally. Keep those shoulders up and the head held high. Confidence. Don’t go hide in the corner. Get out. Have fun. And soon you will see the miracle of life. The miracle of love.”
Like it was that easy.
Lilly sat up, her brain trying to assimilate what Madam Love had just said. It sounded reasonable—mostly—but her heart was on a mission to reject every single word.
Lilly sighed. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“It’s hard for your head to stay clear when it’s being bombarded by pollution. I’m just trying to keep you on course. Read my lips. This isn’t over yet. Do not alter any plans you have this week.”
On the way back to work she called Colette to let her know they were back on for Elizabeth Gilbert the next night. That wouldn’t have been a nice thing to do, anyway—bail on her at the last moment. And Lilly would try to follow Madam Love’s advice and be open and strong.
She knew it wouldn't be easy.
Chapter Nineteen
Lilly and Colette stood from their seats with the other attendees at the Greek Theater in Berkeley and gave Elizabeth Gilbert a standing ovation. Elizabeth had talked for over an hour and a half about women, obstacles, fear, her writing career, and her love life.
Elizabeth did exactly what Lilly’s father and last boyfriend did—she’d left everything behind to go find herself.
Colette hugged Lilly. “That was amazing. What did you think?”
Lilly crinkled her nose. “She talked about Italy a lot. And that was a weird coincidence when she talked about the time she spoke at the All About Women Festival in Australia.”
“What’s so weird about it?”
Lilly shrugged. “Marco is in Australia.”
Colette laughed and rubbed Lilly’s back. “You’re still high on Marco, I get it. I think if you try hard enough, you’ll be able to connect anything to him. Italian food. Wine. Kisses. Using the Pope as toilet paper.”
Lilly pinched Colette’s arm when her best friend laughed. “Not funny.”
Colette perked up. “Maybe you need to fly to Australia and go get that man.”
“Not even . . . Okay, let’s get moving so we can beat some of the crowd out of the parking lot.”
“Hold on!” Colette pulled a book by Elizabeth Gilbert from her purse and showed Lilly. “W
e still need to get in line for the book signing. I want her to sign this and get a picture with her.”
Lilly sighed. “You already have a signed book from her.”
“That was a different book. Let’s go.”
“No way. That could take an hour or two waiting in line for that. I’m tired and I want to go home and read in bed.” Or cry in bed, more likely.
Colette shook her head. “You owe me.”
“I owe you?”
“Yes. Who was the one who cooked soup for you every single day when you had the flu last winter?”
“I’m not playing this guilt game anymore. Let’s go home.”
Marco scanned the crowd at the Greek Theater and shook his head, panicking. Elizabeth Gilbert had just left the stage and was on her way to sign books for her fans. He’d never seen so many women in one place before and he needed to find Lilly.
He considered himself lucky that he could find a ticket to the sold-out event on Craigslist. The seller should have felt guilty selling him a ticket in the last row for three times the original cost, but the guy just smiled as he took Marco’s money and asked him if he also wanted tickets to see Paul Simon. No, thanks. The only thing he wanted at that moment was Lilly.
Marco had to admit that Elizabeth Gilbert was an engaging speaker, even though he had only paid attention one third of the time. Most of the evening he scanned the thousands of women at the outdoor theater, looking for Lilly. The problem was he could only see the backs of their heads since he sat all the way in the back.
A few times he tried to sneak up to the front or to pretend he was looking for the bathroom in the lower section. He wasn’t sneaky enough, though, and was caught each time by security and told to return to his seat. It would have been much easier if he knew where she worked instead of showing up at an event with thousands of people.
Why hadn’t he ever asked where she worked? He had Lilly’s phone number, but this was something that had to be done in person.
Marco needed to get the truth. He needed to know if she loved him. If they had a future together. If she said she didn’t love him, so be it. He would let her go, never bother her again.
Time was running out, and he needed a new plan. If he didn’t act fast, she would slip away and all would be lost. He had two options. Run outside to the street, hoping he would spot her there. Or go to the book signing and find her there.
Which one?
“Choose one, don’t stand here and waste time,” he said to himself.
“Excuse me?” said the woman he bumped into.
“Nothing. Sorry.”
Book signing. Go.
He jumped over the seats in front of him and sprinted down the row to the aisle. He weaved in and out of the countless women, closer to the signing area down by the stage. The line was long, hundreds of women, but again their backs were to Marco. Too bad the area was roped off and the only thing he could do was stand in line. Then maybe he could ask the women one by one if he could cut ahead of them so he could go profess his love to the most beautiful woman in the world.
Marco’s plan was cut short when he was stopped by security again. “Sorry, sir. This line is for the book signing only.”
He looked over the security guards shoulder down the long line. “No problem. I’d like a book signed.”
The security guard eyed Marco from head to toe. “Where’s the book?”
Oh.
Marco hadn’t thought of that.
He glanced at the women in line, all of them already holding books to be signed. “I can’t buy the books when I get up to the front?”
The security guard shook his head. “You need to have the item in your hands before you get in line.”
Crap. That’s not what I wanted to hear. “Where do I buy the books?”
The security guard swung around and pointed to the upper level of the outdoor theater. “Up there. On either side you’ll find plenty of books and other items for purchase. But you better hurry, they may already be sold out and we don’t know how long Ms. Gilbert will be signing.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”
Marco jumped over another set of chairs and ran as fast as he could to the upper level. He entered the giant tent filled with tables and displays of books, t-shirts, hats, beach towels, pins, you name it.
Marco grabbed a book and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table for the employee, not waiting for the change. Two minutes later, he approached the same security guard and held up the book for him to see.
The security guard smiled. “You don’t waste time.”
Marco was out of breath but he returned the smile. “Life is too short for wasting time.”
The security guard gestured for Marco to pass through.
Marco turned to look behind him and the security guard was already talking to someone else. Now was the time for him to make his move. Standing in line would do him no good.
He passed the women in the line, moving as quickly as he could, excusing himself, careful to check every face.
Where was she? She had to be there.
“Lilly!” Marco yelled, moving closer to Elizabeth Gilbert. “Lilly!”
“I can be your Lilly!” said a woman.
Her statement was followed by laughter from many of the other women, but Marco didn’t respond. He moved forward, weaving in and out of a few more women until he saw the front. Under the bright light, Elizabeth Gilbert sat at a table, head down signing a book. She looked up and smiled for a picture, then greeted the next person in line.
Lilly.
Marco’s heart raced as he watched her next to another woman who must have been her best friend Colette. Marco stared at Lilly, now feeling everything would be all right. He would tell her how he felt, then ask her if she felt the same. After that he would find out what she was doing for the rest of her life.
He took a step in her direction and was grabbed by the arm. It was the same security guard from earlier and this time he wasn’t smiling. “I’m going to ask you to leave. Cutting in line is prohibited.”
Marco let out a desperate breath of frustration. “It’s not what you think. I need to talk to that woman who’s at the table right now. Not Elizabeth Gilbert. The fan. I’m just trying to get up there before she leaves.”
“And I’m just doing my job. I can’t allow you to proceed forward. We have protocol for these events and it’s not fair to the people in line if people break the rules. Please come with me.”
The security guard continued to hold Marco’s arm.
“I just want to know if she loves me, that’s all.” Marco heard several audible ahhhs from the women around him, but he maintained eye contact with the man. “I want to talk with the girl. I’m in love with her. Please. I promise I’m not going to get the book signed. ”
“That’s just it. I need to enforce the rules. This area is for book signings only. I can lose my job if I let you break the rules. I have a wife and kid to provide for.”
Marco nodded. “I understand.”
“Why don’t you go wait by the book signing exit,” a woman piped in. “Get her when she leaves.”
This was the beauty of a woman’s brain. They analyzed things differently. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
He turned and smiled at the woman. “Great idea. Thank you.” He turned and eyed Elizabeth Gilbert’s table and Lilly was no longer there. “She’s gone! Somebody please point me in the right direction. The book signing exit, please!”
The security guard released Marco’s arm and slapped him on the back. “Follow me.”
Lilly exited the book signing, passed through the gate, and headed out toward the street. Colette was on top of the world, opening her book and staring at Elizabeth Gilbert’s autograph. She held the book toward Lilly as they walked, showing off what the author had written. “She would die to have my hair. Can you believe that? Elizabeth Gilbert wants to have my hair.”
Lilly could. Just about everyone she encountered wanted to have C
olette’s long blonde hair. In the past Lilly would have wanted it too, but she was happy with her new ‘do she got in Italy.
In Italy with Marco.
There she went again, not even able to go a few minutes without thinking of him.
They walked down Hearst Avenue to the parking lot. Soon she would be home in bed, most likely dreaming of the man who stole her heart. That wasn’t helping her any, and she needed to forget about him, but that was easier said than done. She had blown it and that was that.
Lilly took another step and then stopped, spotting a familiar looking man waving to her from across the street. He looked like—
“What?” said Colette. “Are you okay?” Colette followed Lilly’s gaze to the other side of the street. “And who is the hunky man coming toward us? He seems to know you.”
Lilly couldn’t get a word out. She stared as Marco came closer.
He wasn’t in Australia. He was in Berkeley, California.
If she had the strength she would ask Colette to call an ambulance. Lilly was going to pass out any second. She felt her eyes burn and needed to cut off the tears before they happened. She didn't understand why he was there or how he had found her, but it was still so good to see him.
Marco stopped in front of her and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Lilly.”
“Marco . . . What are you doing here?”
“I think you know why I’m here.”
Lilly studied him for a minute and let a tiny smile form on her mouth. “You’re an Elizabeth Gilbert fan?”
Marco’s gaze penetrated her. “I’m a Lilly Jones fan.”
Colette sighed. “Oh, my. I love where this is going.” She pointed over to the planter in front of the parking lot. “I’m just going to sit right over there. Just pretend I’m not here even though I'll be listening to every single word. Take your time.”
“I don’t get it,” said Lilly, trying to comprehend how Marco had found her and why he had wanted to find her. He was supposed to be in Australia.
Marco took another step toward her. “Lilly Pilly.”
“Marco Polo.”
He grinned, and that was almost enough to send Lilly into cardiac arrest. She had missed that smile.