Beyond Physical

by D Pichardo-Johansson

  Samuel chuckled. “It would suck if those leaked into the press and threatened their political careers.”

  “Exactly,” Richard replied. “I’m sure we can find something on McKinney and Levenstein too. I bet at least one of them would break down under the pressure and tell on the others. Since I’m stuck at the Hospice House, can you take care of it?”

  Samuel nodded. “I’d be delighted.”

  * * *

  Returning to the Hospice House to play the character of “Richard Feilds” felt strange for Richard. Somehow, he felt closer than before to this more-enlightened version of himself.

  Yet even the most fictional of characters evolves with time, and that had happened to Richard Feilds. His background story now painted him as a man so pathetically in love with Joy Clayton that he was willing to spend every free minute of his day helping her fight her lost cause—as an excuse to be close to her. He knew she knew it and only pretended to buy his vow of platonic friendship. But this character was such a sucker that he didn’t mind making a fool of himself for the minimal hope of winning her over.

  The problem was that this character was dangerously close to himself.

  His gut feeling told him she was innocent, but Samuel’s orders had been clear. His mission was to get closer than ever to her and find out if she’d been part of the LOTU spiritual sect or if she could guide them to it.

  He soon slipped back into making himself indispensable. He ran errands for the volunteers working to help save the Hospice House. He brought Joy lunch every day and decaf caramel mocha every evening, and he stayed with her at her office for hours after work, “brainstorming strategies”—an excuse for conversation. He’d used any opportunity to engage her in talking about New Age spirituality topics derived from his talks with Carl, probing her about a connection with the LOTU. She loved those topics and was always eager to discuss them with him.

  So, his work wasn’t difficult. The problem was that he was enjoying it a little too much.

  It was taking all his professionalism to remember that it didn’t matter if she’d smiled a little wider at him today or touched his arm when talking. Even if Richard Feilds ever succeeded at getting her attention, nothing could ever happen between them as long as he was there in the role of investigator. The past two weeks had been among the most difficult ever in his work life. He knew he was bordering conflict of interest. However, walking out on the case and losing the career opportunity of his life was not an option.

  Now sitting in Carl’s living room, Richard heard him say, “You’re very quiet today, Richard. Is there anything wrong?”

  Richard couldn’t talk to Carl about it due to confidentiality issues, but he felt disheartened. His investigation was stuck at a dead end again.

  He managed to chuckle. “Everything’s wrong. I’m a failure of an investigator, I want to strangle my ex, my son hates me . . .” Chuckling again, he shook his head.

  Carl smiled. “Things can’t be going that badly. I noticed you’ve been texting back and forth with Joy all night.”

  Carl must have caught a glimpse of his cell screen earlier. Richard sighed. He couldn’t talk to Carl about that either, but how could he have explained his dilemma, anyway? He had to be with Joy because of the investigation. He wanted so much to be there because he longed for her company. Yet he knew that by being there on those terms, he was ruining his chances of ever having anything real with her.

  “It’s never going to work, Carl. This woman’s immune to me. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve done to get her attention these past weeks, from bringing her lunch and coffee almost every day to convincing her to go shopping for clothes with me.”

  Laughing, Carl clapped. “Shopping! Man, that’s desperate.”

  Richard didn’t answer.

  A long silence fell. Carl then said, “I’m going to assign you a difficult spiritual exercise that will help you in these harder times. Are you ready?”

  Richard was surprised. That must mean he was moving up on the disciple’s ladder.

  Carl paused to make sure he had Richard’s complete attention. “For the next two weeks, I want you to stop doing anything to impress Joy.”

  Confused, Richard stared at him. “What?”

  “Yes, your assignment is to make sure that anything you do, you’re doing it because it makes you happy, or because it feels right. And most importantly, without expecting anything in return.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s the last principle in the preparation manuscript. Love for others. Doing good deeds on behalf of earning other people’s appreciation is doing the right thing for the wrong reason. Real kindness seeks not applause, but the peace of knowing that the world will be a better place for what one has done. Kindness that doesn’t expect a reward will invariably receive it, as it’s impossible to start a ripple of goodness without receiving the benefits in some way. That’s the real magic behind the golden rule.”

  Frowning, Richard asked, “Why else would you do someone a favor? You either want to have them on your side when you need their help in the future, or you love them and want to please them so they love you back. Isn’t that what the golden rule is about?”

  Carl shook his head. “You don’t do good things so other people love you back. That’s not love; that’s a business trade. You do it because it’s the right thing to do. Because when you do something good for another, you lift that person to a higher state of thankfulness for life. It will inspire them to do an act of kindness toward someone else. That third person, in turn, will feel inspired to do the same for another, and the kindness will spread, making the world a better place.”

  Richard narrowed his eyes. “It sounds too good to be true. Real life is not like that. People are ungrateful by nature.”

  Carl shrugged. “Take my word for it. It’s the universally misunderstood law of karma, as real as the law of gravity. Nothing we do is left without a consequence, and it’s not only about what happens after death. The worst thing you can ever do is to hate somebody, because if you give hate, you’ll receive hate. It may not be from the same person you hurt, and it may not be immediate; but it will happen. That’s the biggest point my deserted followers missed. In the same way, if you do good for others, it’s impossible to escape that sooner or later, from somewhere, you’ll receive love and goodness back.”

  Richard pondered on the words. He was witnessing that right now at the Hospice House. From everywhere, relatives and loved ones of patients Joy had taken care of before had sprung into action to help her. The family of the young patient who’d died of breast cancer, Lena’s husband and daughter, were running huge fundraising events among Fort Sunshine’s wealthy. Bruce, the homeless valet, had surprised them all with his discipline in collecting signatures all around town—so did the reformed-addict cleaning lady. From everywhere, people were coming to offer their work and their business services for free to help them cut expenses. Joy had described it as all of her deceased former patients sending an army of angels her way, straight from heaven.

  Richard inhaled deeply. “So my assignment is that if I ever do something for anyone, I need to do it without expecting anything in return, not even appreciation.”

  “Not even a thank you.”

  “That’s hard.”

  Smiling, Carl put his hand on Richard’s shoulder. “But that, my friend . . . is your homework.”

  Chapter 29

  On Thursday, Richard brought Joy lunch again at the Hospice House and didn’t feel it went against Carl’s assignment. He admitted he enjoyed sharing lunch with her so much he did it mostly as a selfish act.

  Entering the office carrying two Thai food bags, he noticed Joy’s serious expression.

  He teased, “Do I need to go get the emergency chocolate ice cream?”

  The usual joke that never failed to make her laugh didn’t trigger a smile this time. This was serious. “What’s going on?”

  “My contact at the DOH says there wa
s a cancellation and she can squeeze me in tomorrow at three.”

  Richard gasped. Joy had been waiting for weeks for a time and date to meet with the Florida Department of Health about the Hospice House. “But that’s great! Isn’t it?”

  She shook her head. “Donna’s leaving town tomorrow night for the Fourth of July holiday. I don’t have babysitting after five. And by the time the meeting is over and I drive back from Tallahassee, it will be nine or ten.”

  “There’s no one else?”

  “My sister, Hope, arrived last night, but she just went through a bad breakup and is locked in the guestroom, crying. I’m not even sure it’s safe to leave her by herself—let alone with the kids.”

  “Joy, there’s no way you could turn down that opportunity. It took you weeks to get a reply from the DOH.”

  “I know. And if I say no, they bump me to September. But I can’t bring the kids with me! It’s too late to find sitters for a Friday night before a holiday weekend—”

  “I’ll do it.” He interrupted her, surprising himself with the words.

  Joy looked at him as if he’d spoken in a foreign language. “What?”

  He checked himself and didn’t feel he was breaking Carl’s assignment. “I’ll do it. I’ll watch your kids while you go to that meeting. It’s too important to pass.”

  Joy shook her head. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I have a son. I know how to change diapers. I know how to play with kids and when to feed them.”

  “But Richard, three children are not the same as one. Twin toddlers! Think about it. And my kids are terrible. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

  Richard smiled. He kind of did. He’d watched them through the monitors for months.

  “Joy, it won’t be the first time I’m around several kids. If it makes you feel better, I’ll bring Ray with me. He’ll be another pair of hands to help, and I know that Arthur will love having an older boy to look up to for one night.”

  She hesitated. “I could stop in Orlando on the way to Tallahassee . . . to talk to Hope’s boyfriend and find out what happened.”

  He nodded. “And I’m a law enforcer. You know that she and your kids will be safer with me than with anybody else.”

  A mixture of conflicting feelings crossed Joy’s face before she said, “I’m so desperate I guess I have to say yes. I hope you don’t regret having agreed to this.”

  * * *

  Ray paced around the living room, breathing heavily. Richard thought the expression of rage on his face made him look more like him.

  “You have to be kidding me!”

  “I’m not.”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me! There’s no way, I’m spending my Friday night, Friday night, watching a bunch of kids . . . babysitting!”

  “Ray, this is important. Think about Nana. We’re trying to save the place where she gets her care and which she loves so much. By doing this, we’re helping in this cause. Plus, think about my friend Joy. Don’t you remember how nice she was to us when she gave us those basketball tickets?”

  Ray didn’t seem to care. “No way! It’s bad enough that you made plans for the time you’re supposed to be spending with your son, but dragging me with you?”

  Richard grunted. “Stop it! You couldn’t care less about me spending the night out, as long as I left you alone to do whatever you wanted.”

  “You’re right! I don’t care! I don’t even want to spend this weekend here! There are much better things I could be doing right now!”

  Richard felt the anger build in him. He counted to ten in his mind. “Ray, I already promised Joy I’d do it. I don’t have a place to leave you. And I’m not sure I could do it on my own. I need your help.”

  Crossing his arms without an answer, Ray glared at his father.

  “You said that there’s some other place you’d rather be tomorrow night. Where is it?”

  Ray looked at him with caution. “Ethan’s brother Ian is having a party at their house. He’s a college guy, and I could go to that party for being Ethan’s friend.”

  Richard raised his eyebrows. The last time Ray had gone to one of those older kids’ parties, he’d caught him drinking beer, and they were now forbidden. Ray was seizing the moment to bargain with him.

  He considered it for a moment. “How about we make a deal? When we’re done watching the kids, I drive you to Ethan’s house—but no drinking!”

  Ray’s eyes lit up. “How long do we need to babysit?”

  “We start at five and should be done by ten.”

  Ray gasped. “What? That long?”

  “It could be earlier, but I don’t want to lie to you. Joy has a five-hour drive from Tallahassee and could get delayed.”

  “But ten is my bedtime!”

  “I’m willing to make an exception. I’ll drive you to the party, and you can stay there for an hour. I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

  “Twelve.”

  “You’re pushing it.”

  “Eleven thirty?”

  “Deal. You are coming with me, right?”

  Ray looked at his father with attention. The tension was palpable. “Man! You have a big crush on that Joy, don’t you?”

  Richard was astonished. He’d never mentioned anything to Ray about Joy and him.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Dad, it’s obvious. You’re letting me go to this party, and you’re willing to negotiate my bedtime. You’re desperate.”

  Richard let himself drop on the couch. “I guess you’re right, Ray. I do have a huge crush on her.” Saying the words aloud hurt.

  To Richard’s surprise, Ray sat next to him with a serious expression on his face. “This lady, Joy, does she know?”

  Looking away, Richard muttered, “I . . . kind of hinted it to her once or twice.”

  “What?” Ray was aghast. “The woman rejected you, and you’re still following her around? What’s wrong with you, man! When Carrie told me she didn’t want to spend so much time with me, I sent her to hell!”

  Richard was intrigued. Ray had never talked about what happened between him and his little girlfriend before.

  Choosing his words carefully, he answered, “It’s more complex than I can explain. Deep inside I know—I feel—that she likes me too.”

  “Then why would she turn you down?”

  “Ray, if you think teenage girls are complicated, wait a few years—it gets worse. Sometimes girls tell you things they don’t mean. They want you to figure out that they want the opposite. Then sometimes they tell you things and you do the opposite, and they get angry at you.”

  The stupefaction on Ray’s face was almost comical. “So . . . we never win?”

  Richard realized Ray was taking mental notes, that the boy was as confused about girls as he’d been at his age. He felt hopeless about giving his son advice when it was obvious that he, himself, had flunked all the relationships he’d had in his life.

  Knowing Ray was still waiting for an answer, he did the best he could. “Ray, do you remember when you were little and we used to go fishing together? I used to tell you that if you pulled the line too strongly it was going to break—that to catch the fish, you needed to play this game of pulling a little, letting go a little, wrapping the line, loosening it again . . .”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Well, son, sometimes getting a girl you like is like that. You get close to her, and then you pull back. You get close again; and then if you notice she’s feeling crowded, you give her some space. Let her start missing you. Then you come back. It’s like a sport where the more you practice, the more comfortable you’ll feel playing.”

  Ray was quiet for a long time. Then he nodded, as if approving of what his father had said. “So, you want to impress this woman by showing off how good of a stepdad you could be for her kids.”

  Richard was impressed with his young boy’s insight. “Well . . . it’s not that . . .”

  Grinning, Ray
punched him playfully on the arm. “Don’t be ashamed, Dad. When you’re trying to get a girl’s attention, you have to show off a little sometimes. I’ve done it myself. I bring girls I like to the beach so I can show them what a good surfer I am. You’re a good dad, and it makes sense that you want to show it to her.”

  Richard was touched. Ray had said he was a good dad.

  Reflecting for a moment, he said, “I want to say that this time I’m trying to do something nice without asking for anything in return, but you might be right. Deep inside, I might be looking forward to showing off. But there might be something else.”

  He turned to look at his son. “Ray, Joy said before that she doesn’t come alone—that she’s a full package that includes her three kids. I understand that. If I were dating a woman and she had a problem with the fact that you’re my son and will always be around, then no matter how crazy I was about, her she’d be history.”

  The boy’s attentive look showed he was listening.

  “So, it’s the same with her. Unless I can prove to myself that I can handle her kids, I’m not sure if there is a deal or not.”

  The words were a revelation for him. Only then did he admit to himself that a corner of his heart was patiently waiting for the investigation to be over so he could be free to go after Joy for real.

  And for the first time, it hit him that when she found out he’d been lying to her all these months, he was going to be in deep trouble. Good luck trying to win her heart then.

  Ray remained silent for a moment, digesting what Richard had said. “Okay, Dad, you can count on me. I’ll help you tomorrow night.”

  Chapter 30

  Richard caught a glimpse of his reflection in a decorative mirror and didn’t recognize the exhausted face gazing back. There was macaroni and cheese in his hair, and his shirt was covered with marinara-sauce handprints and juice spots. That was the replacement shirt he’d brought, since the one he was wearing when he arrived was now in the dryer after getting soaked when giving the twins a bath.