Fearless

by Fern Michaels

  She hoped this Clara woman could help her. It truly wasn’t a life-or-death situation. She knew her feelings of shame and distress were exaggerated, perhaps by what physical illness had hit her around the same time. But she felt she needed a push to help her get over it. It wasn’t easy for her to ask for help, but she knew she needed it.

  Mona came running to the patio as soon as Anna returned with her coffee.

  “She can see you this evening at seven if you’re serious.”

  “I am. Seven is perfect.”

  “Good, I told her you’d be there. On time. Remember, Rover? Plus, I said I was coming with you. Just in case,” Mona informed her.

  “Just in case? Of what?” Anna asked, but truly didn’t mind if Mona came along for the ride.

  “I don’t know,” Mona said. “Just in case whatever it is you’re tryin’ to remember bites you on the butt, I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, Mona. Really. One more thing,” Anna said.

  “Don’t mention this to Mandy, and certainly not to Christina. They’ll think I’ve lost my mind.”

  “You don’t have to keep asking me to keep your business to myself. I ain’t no gossip. You ought to know that by now.”

  “I do, Mona. I’m just a bit . . . confused right now. I’ll make sure to be ready to leave by six; that way we can allow for traffic,” Anna told her. “Maybe we can grab a Whataburger on the way home?” she asked. A well-known Texas hamburger chain—Anna had craved Whataburgers when she was pregnant with Christina, and to this day, it was her favorite guilty-pleasure food, along with the Norman Love chocolates.

  “You got yourself a deal,” Mona said. “I’m gonna scrub up the kitchen floors now, so if there’s anything you need, you better get it now. I didn’t stock that pretend kitchen of yours ’cause you ain’t workin’, so don’t go lookin’ for food down there.” The entire lower house consisted of her studio, office, bathroom, and on-set kitchen.

  “I promise I won’t get in your way. I’ll be ready to go at six,” Anna said, then went back inside for one final cup of coffee before Mona started on the floors, which already sparkled like the Hope Diamond. Cleaning was Mona’s gig, and she loved it, so Anna let her do whatever her heart desired.

  Once Anna was upstairs, she spent the next three hours responding to comments and questions from her viewers. While it was virtually impossible to answer every question, she did as best she could. Sometimes the comments were hateful, downright filthy. She had the power through YouTube to block them. She didn’t like doing this, but she had an audience ranging from age eleven to ninety-eight. The Simple Life was just that. Ways to make life easier, ways to prepare quick, nutritious meals. She worked hard to be unique, yet not so much that ingredients, materials, or whatever products she used were hard to come by. She remembered how, back in the days of neighborhood barbecues, she’d had a neighbor comment on why she didn’t use fancy ingredients like Martha Stewart, and her answer had been, “I like to keep it simple.” And to this day, that was her practice. Yes, she could whip up a gourmet meal in less than an hour, she could design clothes and sew them as well as any fancy designer, but her passion was food, and decorating her house, and sharing these passions with her viewers.

  When she finished with her comments, she returned to the Texas Tech website. She pulled up Ryan’s bio and read through it again. She skimmed through a few other professors’ bios just out of curiosity.

  “I’m not sure if it’s a good fit for Patrick.”

  She remembered his telling her that his son was headed for college, and . . . Texas Tech might not be right for him.

  With Clara’s help, she hoped she could better understand what had caused her to shed her inhibitions as fast as she’d obviously shed her clothes that night; at least she’d have some understanding of her actions.

  It was so out of character for her that he surely had to be one in a million for her to get intimately involved so soon. There hadn’t been any alcohol; she was sure of that, because when she’d been sick on the ship, she’d been full of coffee. If Christina learned of this, she would be mortified. Some example she was. They’d had the sex talk last summer, when Christina started having periods. She wasn’t bashful about discussing sex with her mother, either. Kids in Christina’s generation had sex before they were in high school. Some even earlier. While she wanted her daughter to have a normal and healthy attitude about sex, she did not want her learning that dear old mom made a habit of sleeping with the first date, if you wanted to call it that.

  First date . . .

  There was something about those two words. He’d said them, though in what context? Unsure, she forced herself to stop obsessing over her one indiscretion. This was the twenty-first century. If anyone found out, Anna doubted they’d pin a scarlet letter on her lapel. It was her and her old-fashioned upbringing that was the problem. She wouldn’t stray from her beliefs anytime soon. She was forty-one. At this late date, she highly doubted she was going to revert to some kind of street slut. She laughed at the thought.

  Her cell phone rang, and she took it from the bedside table and looked at a number that she didn’t recognize. “Hello,” she said.

  Nothing.

  “Hello? Mandy, Christina? I can’t hear you.”

  The line went dead.

  Probably a wrong number, as she would’ve recognized Mandy’s and her daughter’s cell numbers. Or her stalker back at work? Debating whether to call the police, she decided not to. Could it be Ryan? Had she given him her cell number? Another possible action that she didn’t recall. No, she would not give her private cell number to a strange man.

  But you will sleep with one.

  Her guilty conscious was killing her.

  Forcing herself to think of something other than this insane topic, she went downstairs to the mudroom and unpacked her luggage. The yellow dress was wadded up and would have to go to the cleaners. The black Prada she’d told Mandy she would be wearing to the captain’s dinner on the last night of the cruise, was crumpled in a corner beside the other dresses she’d packed. This would definitely need special care. She put it on top of the washing machine, then dumped the rest of the luggage’s contents on the floor. Her cosmetic bag was there. She searched inside, hoping to find something, anything to prove . . . Stop!

  Anna was driving herself nuts with all this crap. Taking her lingerie and the rest of the sundresses and shorts she’d packed, she dumped them all into the washing machine, not caring that some were delicate and others were bright colors that would bleed. She adjusted the temperature to cold, threw in a Tide Pod, and hit START.

  Taking her luggage upstairs to her room, she put it in the back of the closet and put the cosmetic case in the bathroom. She’d left the shoes in the mudroom.

  But her thoughts kept drifting back to Ryan. The more she obsessed over it, the worse she felt. What if she’d gotten pregnant?

  “Son of a bitch!” She wasn’t on birth control, and as far as she knew, she could get pregnant. Just because she and Wade didn’t have that second child didn’t mean she was infertile. If Mandy were here right now, Anna was sure she’d kill her for sending her on the frigging cruise.

  Not only could she not remember screwing some guy; for all she knew she could be pregnant! At forty-one. Unmarried. Quickly, she calculated when she’d had her last period. She should’ve been safe according to the calendar, but who took that chance at her age? And with a stranger?

  The words sexually transmitted disease came to mind. What in the heck was she thinking? She’d have to make an appointment with her gynecologist and have a test. At least if she was pregnant she figured they would have likely detected it during her visit to the ER. She rested a bit easier after realizing this.

  This so-called vacation of hers was getting worse by the minute. She crossed her fingers that Mona’s recommending Clara would be her solution to getting a handle on these feelings. She had time before she needed to leave but couldn’t force herself away from the lapt
op. She searched for various diseases, the symptoms and treatments. It would take weeks, according to the articles she read, for any symptoms to appear.

  Headaches. Fever. Nausea. Delirium. Vomiting. She’d experienced all of those symptoms but knew it had to be the virus. Even as naïve as she was, Anna knew the symptoms of STDs didn’t kick in that quickly. What a mess she had made of things.

  A glance at the time. She had an hour before she had to get ready for her appointment. Needing to keep busy, knowing she’d continue this path of craziness, she went downstairs. The washing-machine cycle had finished, so she removed the clothes, and, luckily, none of the darker colors had bled into her lingerie. She hung the sundresses on a hanger and placed the rest of her delicate items on the rack she had for this purpose. Still having a half hour to spare, she returned to the patio with her watering can and clippers. Anna watered the ferns and clipped the brown leaves, tossing them in her compost bin.

  “Jeb won’t like your doin’ his work, Missy,” Mona said.

  Startled, Anna jerked around. “You scared the daylights out of me! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Anna said, her heartbeat having kicked up several notches.

  “You’re losing your hearing. I’ve been in the kitchen.”

  No, Anna knew that she wasn’t losing her hearing. She was just trying her best to focus on the simple tasks and wasn’t listening for footsteps or noises coming from the kitchen. Really, she was thinking about what she’d learn with Clara.

  “Whatever, you startled me,” she said, resuming her clipping. “Jeb knows I take care of the patio plants whenever I can. His job is safe,” she added, a slight grin on her face. She adored Mona and Jeb, but there were times when Mona’s hovering was too much. Now was one of those times.

  “You wearing that?” Mona asked, giving a wide sweep of her hand.

  “Not hardly. I was about to finish up here and go change.”

  “Then get your hiney upstairs,” Mona said. “You want to drive, or you want me to?”

  Anna’s eyes doubled in size. Mona drove like a NASCAR driver. “No, I’ll drive. Meet me in the garage at six.”

  “You got it,” Mona said, and disappeared.

  Anna disposed of her clippings, took her gardening tools back to the mudroom, and headed upstairs to dress for her meeting with Clara.

  She was going to find out what she could; then she would put the past few days out of her mind. Or else.

  Chapter 9

  Clara’s office was the complete opposite of what Anna had expected. Thinking of someone as a hypnotist brought to her mind images of a dark, shadowy room with crystals and patchouli incense, eerie music playing in the background. Completely opposite, the office was warm, decorated in soft cream colors, with a few small potted plants and two comfortable celery-green recliners facing one another, with a small glass table in between. Rover, the full-grown German shepherd, didn’t so much as growl at her when she entered. He stayed with his master and didn’t seem the least bit intimidating.

  After Mona made the introductions, she said, “I’m gonna visit that soap shop. I’ll be waitin’ for you.”

  Again, Anna’s images of a hypnotist were totally askew. Clara wore a pair of khaki slacks with a peach-colored shell top. On her feet were matching Tieks, which went perfectly with her casual attire. Her steel-colored hair, mixed with streaks of black, was cut into a perfect bob. She had dazzling sky-blue eyes, and when she smiled, her entire face glowed. Anna guessed her to be in her mid-sixties.

  “Mona said you were struggling with some tough emotions,” Clara said. “Let’s see if I can be of any help. Please, have a seat.” She directed her gaze to the recliners, then Rover. “Sit,” she directed, and the dog obeyed instantly.

  Anna sat down and waited. Clara sat in the opposite recliner. “Have you ever been hypnotized?”

  “No,” Anna said.

  “First, let me dispel a few myths about hypnotism. Most of the stories you might have heard are false. I’m not going to make you quack like a duck or stand on your head.” Clara smiled. “I can’t make you do anything that is out of character.”

  “I wondered about that. You see all these stage productions of people doing all kinds of silly things. I’m glad to know that’s fake.”

  “It’s not necessarily feigned; it’s simply a state of mind. Some people can’t really hypnotize anyone and perform for entertainment purposes only, which gives legitimate hypnotists a bad rap. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? That is, if it’s something you’re comfortable sharing. I’ll need to start somewhere,” Clara explained.

  An unwelcome blush spread across her cheeks. She didn’t realize she was expected to reveal details since it was the details of her experience that she was there to remember. “I was on a cruise. I left early because I was ill. I’m not sure exactly what I had, but I went to the emergency room last night, and they checked me for the norovirus. I think—no, I know, I did something totally uncharacteristic. I’d . . . I’d done something crazy, at least for me.” Here goes the part she’d been dreading. “I slept with a man I’d just met. It’s not something I would normally do. I’m trying to understand why I acted so out of character, just so I can, I don’t know, justify what I did.” There, it was out. Her blush deepened. She hoped their conversation would stay between them, and asked, “This is confidential? What I tell you?”

  “My lips are sealed; it’s a requirement, just like the confidentiality you share with your medical doctor.”

  She sighed with relief. “My best friend insisted I go on this singles cruise while she and my daughter spent a week in Orlando, doing all the Disney things. It never felt right to me. I’ve had a history of panic attacks, which is an entirely different issue, but I felt isolated on the cruise and a little frightened, being out in the middle of the water like that. I didn’t know anyone, and I panicked when I let my thoughts get the best of me. I had two glasses of champagne on the first night of the cruise in my room, and one thing led to another, so I took a Xanax to calm myself.

  “I know it’s dangerous to mix the two. I’m ashamed of myself. I fell asleep, spent the first night zonked out, passed out, whatever you want to call it. The next morning, I felt under the weather and spent the day pampering myself a bit. A hot bath, lots of coffee, ashamed of myself for drinking, taking the pills. So I wanted to, I guess, start over. I’d made such a mess of things the first night of the cruise. There was a dancing contest that evening I wanted to watch, so I went down to dinner early, and this man came up to my table. He said he was a fan”—no way was she going into the story of her career—“and we had dinner together.”

  “I see,” Clara said.

  Anna was surprised that she didn’t take notes.

  “Well, then let us see what we can do to help soothe you a bit. Are you ready, or do you want to talk a little more? Clear your head?” Clara suggested.

  “I think I’m ready unless you want to ask more questions,” Anna said, thinking she probably wouldn’t have the answers if she did. That’s what she was here to find out.

  “I’m ready as long as you are,” Clara said. “First, let me explain exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “Of course.”

  “This may not matter to you, but I always tell my clients I’m a member, in good standing, of the American Psychological Association. I’ve trained extensively, and I’ve been doing this for twenty-eight years.” She paused. “So I am quite experienced at what we’re about to do. Also, you should know that not everyone can be hypnotized, or I like to use the word hypnotherapy since we’re in a therapeutic setting.”

  “Meaning, I’m not onstage,” Anna stated.

  “Yes, I’ll instruct you to a certain level of awareness, different from your ordinary state of consciousness. You’ll be aware of what I say and, of course, what you say. Your focus and concentration will be very heightened.”

  “So no swinging a pendulum back and forth?”

  “No, but I will ask
you to focus on an object and close off your thoughts. We only want to work on retrieving those lost memories. So, if you’re ready, we can get started.”

  Anna nodded. As soon as she was comfortable, Clara began speaking.

  “Anna, I want you to relax, release all negativity. Imagine a bubble as a negative thought, and focus on it gently moving away, taking all your negative thoughts with it as it drifts away. I want you to look at this blue pen in my hand and nothing else. Focus your sight on this pen. Relax your shoulders as you continue to focus on this pen.”

  Clara was soft-spoken, her words soothing. “Don’t take your eyes off the pen. You were on a cruise ship, a relaxing place to be. The water gently flows beneath the ship, the waves are relaxing, constant. We are relaxed, our bodies content to be surrounded by calming waters. It’s time for an event, and you take steps to prepare. What are those steps?”

  “A bath, it overlooks the Gulf, the smell of the body wash is fragrant, my mother’s scent. I heard a sound and stepped out of the tub. I heard keys jangling, but no one was there. I wore a yellow dress, and I had a silver purse.”

  “You wore the dress to dinner,” Clara coaxed in her soft voice.

  Anna smiled. “The man came to my table; he was so striking, handsome. Tall and broad, a Viking,” she said.

  “You spoke to him,” Clara said.

  “Yes, I invited him to have dinner with me,” Anna said.

  “And after dinner, you went to the dancing contest.”

  “No. I changed my mind, and invited Ryan to my cabin. He made coffee, and we were on the balcony.” Anna paused. “I felt strange; he kissed me. It had been so long since I’d been kissed that way. Intense, the air around me felt electrical, a shudder went through me.” Her breath quickened. “Ryan’s kiss was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

  For the next half hour, Clara guided Anna’s feelings about that night. Her guilt, her shame, and her more positive feelings underlying them. When Anna returned her attention to her surroundings, she could feel a slow burn, from the pit of her stomach, up her neck, and up to her cheeks.