The Fourteen Day Soul Detox, Volume Two

by Rita Stradling

  Taking a seat on the bench closest to the office, I leaned back against the wall. Across the room, Heidi stretched along with Sarah, moving through their usual routine.

  The room buzzed with a sound that was nearly silence, but not quite—an echoing quiet. Closing my eyes, I let the wall behind me take all my weight. My fingered threaded through the holes in the bench, and I grabbed onto the metal.

  Opening my eyes, I grabbed my purse from where I had dropped it on the floor and pulled out my cell phone. I scrolled to Susan’s number and texted her.

  Me: I think I did number twelve early. Last night actually.

  I held my phone on my lap as I watched Sarah move into some of her exercises. She stood on her head upside down, practicing quick kicks back, then slower, then quick again. They ran across the floor, practicing different moves each time. My phone buzzed, pulling my attention away.

  Susan: Shit. I’m sorry. What happened?

  Me: I acted stupid, went about it in the worst possible way. We got in a fight. This morning he said he needed some time away to figure out his head.

  Susan: How you holding up?

  Me: Pretty well on the outside. On the inside, I think I’m shattering.

  Susan: Want me to come take over?

  Me: No. I need to hold it together. I have to go to a movie and then that barbeque. As for me and Cameron, it’s probably the right thing anyway.

  Susan: ’Probably’ doesn’t sound too sure.

  Me: ‘Probably’ doesn’t feel too sure either. ‘Probably’ feels like shit.

  Susan: If you need to duck out of the barbeque just text and I’ll cover for you.

  Me: I think I need the barbeque.

  Susan: If you say so. I’ll see you there then.

  “Hey.”

  Surprised at the voice, I glanced up to find my sister Amy standing over me. A hesitant expression played on her lips as she regarded me. She pointed to the space beside me. “Is this seat taken?”

  I scooted down a little. “It’s all yours,” I said.

  She sat, her gaze drifting to Sarah and Heidi practicing on the beam. “This place brings back memories,” she said.

  “Yeah. You know your picture is still on the wall over there.” I pointed to one of the team photos down the wall. “You have that super early-nineties hairdo.”

  Her lips twitched, but her gaze didn’t wander. “I’m so glad Sarah got in with Heidi.”

  “Yeah, me too. You really made it all happen for her,” I said, watching the pair.

  We were silent for a long time before Amy said, “So, I’m assuming you’re still mad at me.”

  I looked over at her. Her thick, dark brown hair draped around her face so perfectly, she could have been at a photo shoot. She stuck her stiletto boot out in front of her, as if she was examining it, but I could tell her attention was fixed on me.

  “I’m not sure mad is the right word,” I said with a sigh. “Maybe more like mistrusting.”

  She sucked in her lips, closing her eyes and breathing in heavily through her nose.

  “That sounded worse than I meant,” I told her, shaking my head. “It just felt like everyone decided that I’m too incompetent and weak, and decided to take over my life.”

  “I don’t think you’re either,” Amy said, finally looking over.

  I laid my head back against the wall. “Yeah, thanks. I can’t help but feel like both a lot of the time.”

  “If you think you’re weak, you should probably reexamine your idea of strength. You’ve always been this warrior woman, this warrior mom. You’re just… I don’t think that you’re not managing, Jamie. I couldn’t manage everything you do, not even close.”

  “I’m just…?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Just stuck,” she said.

  “Maybe you’re right. I… I’m going to change a couple things.”

  After a pause where she continued to look at me expectantly, she said, “Like?”

  “I made a list.”

  Her eyes widened and a smile spread across her face.

  “Oh my goodness, all I need to do is say the word ‘list’ and you pee your pants.”

  “Don’t pick on me, I love lists. What kind of list did you make?”

  “A fourteen-day soul detox. I’m on day two, and it’s scary as a hell. I’m supposed to do one thing a day every day.”

  “What’s today’s?”

  “Gain some weight,” I said.

  “You made this all up?” She sounded skeptical.

  “Susan,” I said.

  “That makes more sense. So you have fourteen things to do?”

  “Thirteen, I vetoed one.” I looked away.

  “Is it what I’m guessing?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “Probably. I’m just not ready yet,” I said in an equally quiet voice. “I’m not ready for a lot of the things I’m supposed to do, either.”

  “Like what?”

  I leaned down and pulled out my wallet from my purse, extracting the note from where I stored it in the bill fold. “Here,” I said, handing it to her.

  Her eyebrows slowly hiked up her forehead as she read the list. “Wow,” she said when she was finished.

  “Yeah, I know, ambitious,” I said.

  She folded the list and handed it back to me. “I feel like no matter how I respond to that, I’m probably going to get in trouble, so all I’ll say is that if you need any help, Peter and I would be happy to help you.”

  “Thanks, Amy. Where is Peter anyway?”

  “Working. He’s meeting us at the theater. I took a car over here; I wanted to talk first, just us.”

  “Yeah. How’s everything going with you two, anyhow?”

  She smiled. “Fine, we’re great. Yeah, everything is great.”

  “Everything?” I asked, meeting her gaze.

  “Yeah,” she said, looking away, but she looked back at me. “Well, not everything, I guess. You know how we’ve been trying for almost a year now?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  She swallowed. “Well, Peter is wondering if maybe we should get some tests done. He thinks I might be infertile.” Her voice was controlled, but I could hear the suppressed tears.

  “Are both of you getting tests done?”

  “Mostly me,” she said.

  “Well, that’s bull.”

  She shook her head. “Not really. I’m twenty-seven, and I’ve never even had a pregnancy scare.”

  “Yeah, but weren’t you on birth control until last year? And you’re religious about shit like that. I had pregnancy scares because I was constantly messing up my birth control.”

  “I just always pictured myself as being a mother. I was going to get my MBA, work for two years, and then have two children. I cleared it with my work. We renovated the second office into a nursery.”

  “Now who’s being self-defeating? In the words of the wise Amy, ‘you’re twenty-seven not eighty-seven,’ go have lots of babies. And if it doesn’t work for you biologically, there’s always adoption. You always said you wanted to, and you and Peter are, like, the ideal candidates.”

  She closed her eyes. “Peter and I talked about it, but we decided not to.”

  I raised my eyebrows at her. “You both decided not to?”

  “Just let it drop,” Amy said.

  “Alright, if you want me to,” I said.

  “She’s so good, I was never that good,” Amy said, staring off toward where Sarah was rehearsing her beam routine. She flipped on the beam, doing a slight balance check.

  “That was a great landing. She needs to work on her dismounts. I think that’s what they’re working up to today,” I said.

  “Aren’t you afraid she’s going to get hurt?”

  “Every moment of my life. But if I try to stop her, she’ll just be more determined to do it. And, I don’t want to teach her that she’s not enough. The world is already so determined to do that to her,” I said softly.

  Amy took my hand, giving
it a squeeze. “You’re a good mom.”

  “Thanks. I hope so.”

  We watched the rest of Sarah’s lesson in silence. Heidi had Sarah practicing her dismount for the rest of the session, though they only actually did the dismount three times.

  After they finished practicing, they stayed on the mat. Heidi spoke to Sarah for a long time and claimed Sarah’s undivided attention. Sarah nodded once, and then they both stood and walked toward me. After putting on her clothes, Sarah made a beeline for us, climbing directly into Amy’s lap.

  “Hey, adorable,” Amy said.

  “I thought I saw you coming in, Amy,” Heidi called over, a wide smile on her face.

  “Hey there, Ms. Heidi, how are you?”

  “I am doing just fine, just fine, thank you for asking. You look very nice. How is your job in advertising?”

  “Marketing,” Amy corrected. “Fantastic.”

  “And how is that handsome husband of yours?”

  “Wonderful, he couldn’t be better to me. We’re very happy,” Amy said, a smile fixed securely on her face.

  “Well, that is good to hear. Unfortunately, ladies, as much as I’d love to visit with you, I have a class coming in at three I have to set up for. I’ll see you two next Wednesday,” she said, pointing at me and Sarah.

  “Thank you so much, Heidi,” I said.

  “It’s my pleasure,” she replied with a wave as she turned around and headed back for the mats.

  As we walked out of the gym, all three of us connected by our held hands, I turned to Amy. “Oh, I forgot to mention, I was invited to this barbeque thing this evening. You and Peter were included in the invite too, but I understand if you’d rather do dinner just us.”

  “Probably, but I’ll text him,” she said as she pulled her phone from her purse with her free hand. “Whose barbeque is it?”

  “A guy named Patrick, his daughter Kay is in Sarah’s—”

  “Not Patrick Kelly?”

  “You know him?”

  Amy laughed. “Yes, what a coincidence. He’s Peter’s friend, they play tennis and golf at the club.”

  “Crazy. We’re kind of becoming friends,” I said, shrugging.

  “Which kind of friends?” she asked, her lips twitching with what I guessed was a suppressed smile.

  “The kind that go to barbeques. Don’t make too much of it,” I told her, as I clicked the beeper for my car.

  “So he asked you out?” she said.

  I gave her a warning glare as I helped Sarah into her seat and buckled her in. “Nap if you need to, angel.” She curled up, eyelids heavy.

  When I straightened, I saw Amy’s shoulders bobbing up and down as she laughed under her breath.

  “It’s just so funny,” she said.

  “Why’s that funny, Amy?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

  Amy got into the passenger seat, still looking all too amused. “It’s just that he’s something of a celebrity at the club. He’s from an extremely wealthy family and I guess he practically grew up there. He’s the best tennis and golf player there, by far, and he’s friends with everyone. His wife was pretty much shunned when she left him for her boss.”

  “I don’t get why any of that is funny,” I said, starting the car.

  “Because the women there throw themselves at him left and right—even the married ones—right in front of his daughter. It’s so bad; it’s something of a joke between me and Peter. Especially since Patrick doesn’t give any of those women the time of day. He’s always nice but dismissive. Then he goes and asks out my sister, a coffee-shop owning bartender who hates rich people.”

  “I don’t hate rich people. Half the people I love are rich. Everyone in this city is freaking rich,” I said.

  “I’m not talking about our kind of rich,” she said.

  “What other kind of rich is there?”

  “Trust me, there is a whole other world of rich. So, I’m taking an educated guess here and going to say you turned Patrick down, didn’t you?” she said.

  I didn’t answer her, which just made her snicker some more. Finally, I said, “I like him; we’re going to try out being friends. It’s funny that you described him like that, though. He just seemed so… lonely to me. But I guess he’s surrounded by friends.”

  “You can be surrounded by friends and still be lonely,” Amy said. She then turned a too-bright smile on me. “So is he the ‘Hunky Dad’ you’re going on a date with from your list?”

  “I might have to amend that one. I think I changed my mind.”

  “Please, no,” she begged. “Give him a chance. He’s sweet, not stuck up or pretentious. He’s one of the good ones.”

  “Uh huh. You know, you’re one to talk about me hating rich people; I thought you despised that country club. I thought all those women referred to you as ‘Peter’s Mexican wife’ even though you told them you were Cuban-American?”

  She waved a hand dismissively through the air. “Not everyone there is like that. And, networking with those people is really important for both my and Peter’s careers.”

  “I get how it’s good for Peter, but how is it important for your career?”

  “In a lot of ways. And Peter’s career is very important to me, too. He’ll be the main provider when we eventually have kids.”

  “Alright, but I hope you don’t let those people walk all over you.”

  “I don’t,” she snapped before fixing her attention on her phone in her lap, her fingers flying across her screen as she typed out a text message. A minute later, she said, “Peter would love to go to Patrick’s barbeque.” She looked away.

  “Awesome, then we’ll go. I do like Patrick, and Kay is adorable.”

  “Yes, she sure is,” she said, though her mind seemed to be elsewhere.

  Day Two: Three Twenty-Five

  “Park here,” Amy said, pointing to a spot in the parking lot in front of the movie theater.

  “I think I can get a closer one,” I said, scanning the lot.

  “If you spend any more time circling the lot, we’re going to be late,” she said, tapping my dashboard clock.

  “Amy, we have ten minutes—”

  “Which will be barely enough time to get snacks.”

  “—and there are always fifteen minutes of previews on these kids’ movies,” I continued.

  “If you’re going to miss this spot, drop me off in front so I can go get the tickets,” she said.

  “It’s not going to sell out,” I grumbled as I took the spot she indicated.

  “How can you be so sure? It’s a Sunday afternoon—prime kids’ movie time,” she said, opening her car door.

  “I want popcorn,” Sarah’s voice bubbled from the back seat.

  “You’re awake,” I said, smiling into the rearview mirror. “Last time I looked back you were fast asleep.”

  “I want popcorn and candy,” Sarah said as she unbuckled her seat belt.

  “You do, do you?” I said.

  “I’m going to run ahead and get us tickets,” Amy said, having already exited the car.

  “Do what you have to, Amy,” I grumbled.

  “Unless you’re getting out now because then I’ll wait,” she said.

  Grabbing my purse, I exited my car and walked around to open Sarah’s door. Sarah bounced out of the car, beaming.

  “You woke up happy, angel,” I said as I closed the door behind her. When I turned, I found that Amy and Sarah were already three cars away, hurrying hand in hand toward the movie theater.

  I followed them at a normal pace. By the time I reached the ticket counter, Sarah and Amy were next in line.

  “This one is on me.” Amy pulled out her wallet to purchase the tickets.

  When she walked out of the line, tickets in hand, I asked her, “Shouldn’t we wait out here for Peter?”

  “He’s already inside, saving us seats.”

  “Cool.”

  There was almost no line for the concessions, and Sarah bounced on the balls of he
r feet as we stepped up to the counter.

  “Can I help you?” The pretty blonde teenage girl behind the counter asked with an air of impatience. Music buzzed out of the earbud in one of her ears. When she turned, the earbud that wasn’t in her ear swung around her cash register.

  “I really hope that you’re going to tuck away those headphones before you serve us,” Amy said.

  The cashier gave us a cold smile, and pulled the headphones from her ears, shoving them into her back pocket. “What can I get for you?” she asked with a small roll of her eyes.

  “A large popcorn with no butter, please, and…” I looked down to Sarah who was holding four bags of candy. “Only one, Sarah.”

  “Two,” she said.

  “One. Pick now or no candy,” I said, turning back to the girl as she placed the large popcorn in front of me. The popcorn glistened up at me as it settled.

  I looked back at the girl who was watching me expectantly. “Sorry, I ordered no butter.”

  “No butter. No butter. No butter,” whispered Sarah under her breath.

  “You said butter,” the girl said, practically glaring at me.

  “She said no butter, you just didn’t hear her because you had headphones in,” Amy said exasperated.

  “Actually, no, I didn’t. I put my headphones in my pocket before you even ordered,” the girl said.

  “It’s fine.” I put my hand out toward Amy. “My daughter can’t have butter.”

  “It’s not actually butter, it’s like vegan,” she said.

  I took a deep breath to steady myself. “It’s the texture on her hands, it freaks her out. She can’t do the butter; I ordered no butter, please.”

  “No butter. No butter,” Sarah said.