by Suzie Carr
“I am,” Charlotte screamed and unbuckled herself.
“Me too.” Anthony reached for the door.
“I guess I am,” Lia said.
When we walked in, Yvonne walked up to Lia, grabbed her wrist, and took her pulse. “You look like a truck ran over you backwards and forward.” She looked at her watch.
A funny smile sat on Lia’s face.
She dropped her wrist. “You’re getting a treatment.”
“I don’t have time. I’ve got a boatload of work to do at the office.”
Yvonne crossed her arms over her chest. “The goal of Ayurvedic medicine is to prevent diseases. We all need it. You especially. I’ve never seen bags under someone’s eyes like yours before.”
Lia turned to me. “Save me from this?”
“She’s right.” I walked over to the front desk to get my files.
“I’ll come in. I promise,” Lia said.
“When you’re done spitting out false promises, I’ll be here.” Yvonne shuffled away toward her treatment room, and Dean followed her dutifully.
“Thanks for the ride,” he said. “Oh by the way, what time will you and Willow be picking me up tomorrow night for your birthday dinner again?”
Lia’s face turned bright red.
“It’s your birthday?” Charlotte asked.
Lia looked down at Charlotte and patted her head. “Yes tomorrow.”
“Why is your face all red?” Charlotte squealed.
“Because she’s old,” Anthony said. “Old people hate birthdays. So shut up Charlotte.”
“Anthony,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Enough.”
“Anthony’s right,” Lia said. “I’m going to be ancient tomorrow. We should celebrate my youth today instead.”
“Oh, can we get ice cream?” Charlotte asked, jumping up and down.
Lia laughed. “I suppose we can hit Friendly’s on the way back to my office.” She looked up at me, and the color faded back to her normal tone. “Right?”
“I’ll just slip into my treatment and let you two decide on the time for tomorrow,” Dean said.
Lia turned red again.
Her red face hurt me, reminding me of those days at the campground when she refused to look at me or acknowledge my existence when others were around.
I ducked under the desk, pretending to gather files so I could hide my hurt.
A moment later, she leaned over the desk. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” I said, easing myself up from the floor. “It’s so dusty under there.” I wiped the fake dust off on my pants.
She reached out for my hand. “So Friendly’s for ice cream?”
“What about your work?”
Lia kissed me. “Eff it.”
“Mommy and Lia are kissing in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Charlotte screamed out. “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage.” She spun around, and Anthony tripped her with his foot.
Lia put her arm around me. “What do you say?”
I leaned into her embrace. “I promised to stop by the flea market to bring my aunt a coffee. So, right after that maybe?”
She scratched the back of her neck. “Oh, the flea market?” Her face flustered again. “Can you go after you drop me back off at the office?”
The kids wrestled on the floor.
The phone rang.
The music changed tempo.
Lia’s face grew redder.
My heart tore open.
She didn't want me around her family or them to be around mine. “Of course.”
An uncomfortable vibe sat between us. We both took refuge in the kids’ laughter.
“It’s not that I don’t want to go with you. It’s just that ever since Dean’s leave of absence, I can’t keep up with the workload. So, I need to get back to the office sooner than later.” She spoke with a vulnerability to her voice, one that instantly took away my defenses. I rallied around that vulnerability, using it for everything it offered to bandage my wounded ego.
She needed me, and I needed to step up and help her.
I placed my finger under her chin and turned her to me. “It’s temporary.”
“I know it is.” She nudged my finger from under her chin. “I know he’s going to be fine. That’s what’s so frustrating to me. He can be so dramatic. He’s taking this way beyond where it needs to be. Even the doctor called his lump unremarkable. Yet, he’s going to all these crazy extremes.”
“What extremes?”
“He broke his coffee habit. He meditates six times a day. He comes here every single day of the week to get treatment for something that is unremarkable. He asks me to drop everything to go live out his silly bucket list. He’s not dying. Yet, he wants me to stop working to have fun because he has a one percent chance of dying. Hell, I could walk out the door and get slammed by a biker going too fast. I’ve got clients yelling at me because I can’t get their projects done, and he’s expecting me to go to concerts and teahouses and to the beach to build sandcastles.”
“You looked like you were relaxed and having fun. That’s a good thing.”
“I’m losing control over my business and staff. We don’t have time to have all this fun.”
Her imbalance caught up to her and she feared losing Dean to his newly expanded mind. “He’s living life.”
“He’s being ridiculous.” Panic trailed her words.
“He’s learning to be proactive.”
“He walks your aunt’s dog every day not because he is still overcoming a fear, but because he wants to know if she senses anything else. She brings him comfort.”
She said that as though my aunt was the most ridiculous woman in the world. “So, let him be comforted by her.”
She watched the kids chase each other around in circles, tensing by the second.
“I can guarantee you that if he knew how upset you were right now, he’d be devastated.” I rubbed her arm.
She pulled in her bottom lip. “I don’t want him to know.”
“He might already sense it.”
“Is my stress that obvious?”
I laughed to release the pent-up pressure. “You’re a mess.”
She lolled her gaze back to me, and this time the laughter returned to her eyes. “De-stress me.”
“We just need five minutes, and I can tell you a few ways you can help yourself.”
“Is it wacky?”
“Ayurvedic medicine is not wacky.”
“With a name like that?”
I eased my hand into hers and led her to the chairs near the front window display. “It’s thousands of years old. So, it’s obviously helped someone out.”
She sat down next to me, stretching her eyes. “What the hell. It can’t hurt, right?”
“It’s all in the breathing.”
“Breathe in, breathe out?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s called pranayama breathing. By practicing this technique, you’ll calm yourself.”
“I can’t even pronounce it.”
“All you need to do is close your right nostril with your thumb and inhale through the left nostril as you count to four. Then, hold your breath for another four counts. Then, lightly close your left nostril with your ring finger and release the thumb from your right nostril. Exhale through the right side. Then, repeat this alternating between left and right nostrils.”
Lia nodded like I just told her about the fine features of a washing machine on the store floor of Lowes.
I demonstrated.
“That is seriously the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”
“May not be sexy, but it works.”
She batted her eyelashes.
“Then, there’s Abhyanga, which is rubbing the skin with herbal oil,” I said, gently massaging her forearm. “You’ll increase blood circulation and draw toxins out of the body through the skin. I can help you with this one whenever you need.”
She eased into my touch. “Go on.”
“Another technique is Rasayana,” I said softly. “That is the practice of using mantras during meditation combined with herbs to rejuvenate your spirit.”
Lia’s cheeks swelled up in an obvious struggle to maintain seriousness.
I pinched one of her cheeks, and she sealed her eyes shut. “No giggling.”
“I will not laugh,” she said.
I pinched a little harder, and she remained stoic. “I’m totally impressed.”
“As you should be.”
I continued. “There’s also yoga, of course. Yoga will improve your circulation and digestion, reduce blood pressure, cholesterol levels, anxiety, and chronic pain.”
She opened her eyes. “Sounds like yoga takes the prize for most benefits. I may need some one-on-one help with that one too, I suppose.”
“Of course.”
Lia’s eyes twinkled.
“Then, there’s pancha karma.”
“Sounds kind of kinky,” she said, swallowing a laugh.
I playfully slapped her leg. “Honestly, my kids listen better.”
We both looked over at them as they continued to wrestle and pull each other’s hair. “That’s eerily accurate.”
I turned her back to face me. “As I was saying.”
She stared at my lips.
“Eyes are up here,” I teased.
Laughter sat in the crinkles of her tired eyes.
“Pancha karma will cleanse and purify your body, helping to restore your balance. That one you’d need Yvonne’s help with. That’s the main focus of Dean’s treatments.”
Lia cocked her head as if about to ask me a serious question. “Can we just have ice cream? A nice big, heaping three scoops with hot fudge and nuts?”
I placed my hands on my hips. “You’re a bad student.”
“Ice cream is just easier.”
“Can we come too?” Charlotte asked, running up and pulling on Lia’s arm.
She hugged her. “Of course. I wouldn’t dare celebrate ice cream without you two.”
“Does that mean we can come to your birthday party tomorrow too, then?” she asked, looking up at Lia with her big green eyes.
I pulled Charlotte off of Lia’s arm. “That’s enough now, honey.”
Lia cleared her throat, as if looking to fill the space with something other than the obvious awkwardness.
I walked over to their toys and began to place them back in the backpacks.
Lia knelt down to help. “My family is weird.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” I faked a chuckle.
She clasped her hand over my wrist. “I want you to come. I really do,” she said, nodding as if trying to convince herself of the same thing.
“Yay,” Charlotte danced around us. “Can we go then, Mommy? Can we?” She threw her arms around me.
“How can you say no to that?” Lia asked.
I answered with a blink and reserved smile.
Chapter Fifteen
Lia
The night of my birthday dinner, I met Dean, Willow and the kids at her aunt’s house. They stood outside on the front lawn waiting for me. Dean piled into the backseat with the kids and Willow took the passenger seat up front near me.
Willow and Dean joked around with the kids as I drove, taming my nerves. I warned my parents that I invited Willow, Charlotte and Anthony. My mother asked their ages and what they liked to eat. My father had no reply.
I was playing with fire, getting deeply involved with Willow. It would be just a matter of time before something or someone pulled us apart, and the closer we got to my parent’s house, the more I kicked myself for putting any of us in a position to suffer through the night ahead.
When we first arrived, my mother ushered Anthony and Charlotte into the front door with a gentle, loving sweep. She offered the kids milk and cookies, my father’s stash. My father emerged from the basement stairs, carrying a box of sangria and flashing an eyeful at my mother. “Oh shush, you cookie hog,” she said. “Go into the living room.”
He passed through the archway separating the two rooms and greeted me with a nod before lifting his eyes to meet Willow. “It’s been a long time.”
Willow extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Stone.”
He eyed her hand, then reluctantly shook it.
All of a sudden, Anthony ran into the living room sporting a set of playing cards. “Check this out. Solitaire.”
My father eyed him like he carried the Ebola virus.
Anthony dropped to the ground with his new cards. “This is so cool. The cards have all the characters from Star Wars.”
My father cleared his throat and scanned Anthony nervously. “I’ll just go in the kitchen and help your mother.”
Just then, Anna walked in with her kids in tow. She stopped as soon as her eyes landed on Willow. She shifted her feet, as if contemplating her escape. Her kids darted past her and straight toward the kitchen.
“Hi Anna,” Willow said, sweetly.
“Hey.” Anna’s face turned white. She walked past us.
“Where’s Jeff?” I asked.
“He’s working.” She looked around the room as if afraid that the walls would collapse around her. “I’m going to see if Mom needs my help.” She took off to the kitchen.
The three of us sat in the living room and watched the Red Sox while Anthony continued playing by himself, and Charlotte explained to my mother how she used seashells for the windows on her sandcastle.
A little while later, we gathered around the dining room table like one big, awkward family.
We dug into the basket of garlic bread like we’d survived a week in the desert without food or water. My mother loved the hunger. I could tell by the glow in her eyes as Anthony took a second piece even before biting into his first one.
“How’s work for you, Lia?” My dad asked, warming up.
“It’s crazy busy.” I plopped a pile of spaghetti on Anthony’s plate. He reached out for it, licking his lips. Their eyes popped out of their little faces at the sight of homemade spaghetti and garlic bread. Did Willow just feed those kids frozen dinners?
“Anything worth earning is not going to come easy,” he said.
“I’m certainly not complaining, Dad.”
He bit into his garlic bread, avoiding my eye. Why did I challenge him?
“Lia runs a great business, sir,” Dean said. “She credits you for teaching her how to do it successfully. I’ve never seen a person work harder.”
He acknowledged that compliment with a nod. “Why thanks, son.”
“Willow,” my mother said, “What is it you do for work?”
Both my father and sister cleared their throats.
I cringed as my teeth sunk into the buttery bread.
“I’m a yoga instructor,” she said.
I cradled my hand on her kneecap, grateful that she saved us from unnecessary assault.
“Mommy, you’re a psychic like Auntie Lola, right?” Charlotte asked.
“Sweet Jesus,” Anna mumbled.
Willow swung her arm around Charlotte. “Just eat your bread while the adults talk.”
“Wine anyone?” I stood up, knocking over the Italian dressing. It pooled around the salt and pepper shakers.
“Our glasses are filled to the top, Lia.” My mother pointed her eyes for me to sit back down.
I gulped mine down, then topped it off before sitting.
“So, a psychic?” my mother asked.
The alarm of impending disaster wailed in my head, signaling for me to jump in and save Willow. “She’s a yoga instructor. Let’s leave it at that.”
Willow clicked her tongue and took refuge in her spaghetti.
My mother folded her hands under her chin, taking in the full load of my attempt to sway the conversation. “I see.”
“In many cultures, psychic ability is revered,” Dean said. “It’s a lack of understanding that drives most people to fear it.”
“Seriously,” I said, tersely. “
Let’s just drop it.”
He dug into his spaghetti. “This is quite delicious Mrs. Stone.”
“Why thank you, Dean. I cooked plenty. So, don’t be shy.”
He twirled it around his fork and smiled at her before stuffing it into his mouth.
“I smell something burning,” Anthony said.
I sniffed the air and smelled smoke, too.
“I have to say,” Anna said, buttering her bread. “I find it fascinating that—”
“—something is burning.” I stood up.
My mother sprang to her feet too and ran to the kitchen. “Oh shit,” she yelled.
My father pushed back from the table and ran to the kitchen. The two kids shot panicked looks at us. Willow grabbed Charlotte from her seat and ran out the front door with her, yelling back for Anthony to follow her. Instead, he jumped out of his seat and ran toward the smoke-filled kitchen. Dean ran out of the house screaming.
Anna and I ran after Anthony. She tripped over my mother’s stack of study bibles near the edge of her recliner. I kept running toward my father who stood in front of the smoky oven with the phone already pressed his ear. Smoke billowed out from the burners and the oven door. My mother screamed for him to do something. He screamed back, “I’m trying.”
Then, he screamed at the 9-1-1 operator to hurry up and get a fire truck to his burning house. “The kitchen’s on fire,” he yelled. “Tell them to hurry.”
“Oh my God, the kitchen’s on fire,” Anna yelled.
The kitchen was not on fire. The oven was on fire. “Dad,” I yelled out over his frantic screams at the poor innocent person at the other end of that phone call. “Relax.”
He turned to me and his eyes grew big. “Don’t just stand here. Get your mother and that kid out now.”
I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Calm down.”
He wrestled out of my grip, still pressing that phone to his ear. “What’s that you say?” he yelled into the phone. He turned to the stove. “Yeah, it’s still on.” He nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said, turning to me. “Turn it off,” he yelled at me.
If a group of aliens could’ve seen us then, they’d turn their spaceships right around the strange planet with the crazy people flipping out over a little smoke billowing out of a stove top burner. I reached around him and turned off the oven.