The Fourteen Day Soul Detox, Volume Two

by Rita Stradling

  They waited for me to unlock my door, and I turned the porch light on for them once I was inside.

  “Thank you guys so much,” I whispered out the door.

  “Anytime, Jamie, nice to see you,” Sammy whispered back.

  Once inside, I double locked the door before going to lay Sarah down in her bed. I tucked her in and kissed her forehead. Before leaving her room, I checked all her windows to see if they were locked.

  I checked every window and place large enough to hide in the house.

  When I’d checked the house thoroughly, I whispered to myself, “Oh, my god, Jamie, you are acting like a crazy person.” But still, I checked the house one final time before going to sleep.

  Day Three

  Downward Facing Dog

  Day Three: Seven O’clock

  I woke with Sarah’s cheek smashing into mine. “Space, I need space,” I said in a muffled voice.

  “Good morning, angel!” Sarah shouted as she bounced off me, and stood up to jump on the bed.

  “No,” I whispered, “stop doing that. Oh my god, you have so much energy,” I grumbled. I made my way to the kitchen in a blurry haze.

  I stared at the empty carafe of coffee. “I hate you, Susan,” I whispered as I wandered back into my room to where Sarah and my pillows were still bouncing on my bed. “Come take a quick shower baby. You didn’t have one last night,” I said. I walked across the hall into the bathroom and turned the water on. “Time to shower, Sarah,” I called when she didn’t come over.

  After a few more seconds, the springs on my bed ceased their screeching, and a loud thump sounded. A moment later Sarah appeared in the bathroom.

  “I will take a shower now, Mom,” Sarah said.

  “Thank you baby, I’ll set clothes out for you on your bed. Do you want me to make you something for breakfast or just yogurt and fruit?” I asked.

  “Yogurt, bananas, juice,” she said.

  “Sounds good. Don’t take too long because you have to go on the bus today,” I told her before leaving the bathroom.

  Trudging back into my room, I dressed for work, cringing when I opened my underwear drawer only to find the stupid lacey thongs.

  “Shit, I forgot to go stupid underwear shopping,” I grumbled as I grabbed a red lacey g-string. I finished dressing in my work clothes, then went to Sarah’s room to make her bed and lay out her outfit for the day. I packed two additional bags. One overnight bag for me and Sarah, and one bag with my yoga clothes.

  Going into the kitchen, I grabbed two yogurts from the fridge and two bananas from their basket. While eating the banana, I checked Sarah’s backpack to make sure it had everything she needed in it and set it by the door.

  “Time to get out of the shower, angel,” I said at the door and waited until I heard the water turn off.

  My phone beeped with a new text and I crossed back into my bedroom to grab it.

  Cameron: Good morning beautiful.

  I bit my lip. A million hummingbirds took flight in my stomach, but a strange bout of tears welled up in my eyes.

  Me: Hey yourself.

  Cameron: I had a dream about you.

  Me: A good dream?

  Cameron: A sad dream, I just needed to check in.

  Me: Oh, well, I’m fine, Sarah’s fine, just about to head to school. You okay?

  Cameron: Yeah. Are you going to have a moment to talk today? I have some stuff I want to talk to you about.

  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes on the exhale. A single tear dropped from my lashes and slowly made its way down my cheek. I wiped it away.

  Me: I was thinking of closing the shop early today anyway; want to just come by at your usual time?

  Cameron: Sounds good, I’ll see you then.

  I reread the entire text conversation before stowing my phone in my purse.

  Sarah’s bedroom door opened and she walked out of her room.

  “Did you brush your teeth?” I asked her as she walked through the living room toward the breakfast nook.

  “Yes,” she said, opening her mouth in a big, exaggerated way.

  “Ha, ha, okay, go eat your breakfast,” I told her. I brushed out her tangles as she ate, ignoring her glares and grumbles.

  “Alright, bus time,” I told her after she finished her yogurt.

  I walked over to the door and hoisted the duffle bag and sports bag.

  After unlocking the door, I cracked it open, and peered around it. Clarke’s yard appeared to be empty. Without making a sound, I led Sarah out into the mist, making sure to lock my door after we exited.

  The thick mist rested on the ground, leaving only what was a couple feet in front of us clear. We walked up the path to stand in front of one of my neighbor’s cars. A glance over my shoulder told me Clarke’s car was now in its assigned space.

  “Aunt Beza is going to pick you up from class today, baby. We’re going to spend the night at aunt Beza and Aunt Susan. You and me are both going to spend the night there.”

  “I love you so much, Mom,” Sarah told me.

  “I love you so much too, angel.” I gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head as the growl of the school bus’s engine approached.

  The bus pulled up in front of us, and when the doors swung open, the loud voices of a bunch of children speaking sounded out from the doors.

  “Hey Henry,” I said, as the bus driver looked down at us.

  “Morning Jamie. Another loud morning,” he said.

  Sarah walked up the steps to the bus, turning and walking away from us down the aisle.

  “I think it’ll be okay. She had a really good morning,” I told him.

  “Alright then,” he said, looking back over his shoulder and into the bus. He turned to me. “You have a great day.”

  “You too,” I said as the doors closed.

  The rows of kids passed by as the school bus returned into the fog.

  Turning away from my apartment, I started the much longer path around the entire section of duplexes. The eucalyptus trees lining the sidewalk dropped leaves, fluttering down around me. I plucked one from the air and inhaled its strong scent. My gaze darted around the empty street. The street lights were still lit, the fog clearly outlining their path.

  I examined each parking spot and the spaces between them as I made my way to my car. When I reached my car, I jumped in, locked the doors and drove out of the parking lot.

  Turning the radio on to a classic rock station, I sang along at the top of my lungs until I parked alongside the mural of Jack climbing the beanstalk. Walking up the sidewalk, I stopped before the tree that stretched out its branches in front of my shop. Nestled among its big, green, heart-shaped leaves were three stubborn blossoms. The street showed no trace of the buds that had so recently splattered the sidewalks.

  I turned to the store and unlocked the door.

  “Morning sunshine!” Chris called out from behind the counter the moment I stepped inside.

  “Morning moonshine,” I called back.

  “I wish! Everything’s ready if you want to open her up,” Chris called.

  I flipped over our sign from open to closed and said, “Ta, da.” Walking behind the counter, I put on a clean apron and washed my hands.

  “So, I have big news,” I said while my gaze was still glued to the hot, soapy water on my hands.

  Chris stepped up next to the sink, and I had to look up at him. “You’re pregnant,” he said.

  “Shut up! Don’t even say those things out loud!” I told him, splashing him with soapy water when he started laughing.

  “I’m sorry, I actually thought you were going to say that.” He wiped his face off with a rag and threw it in the bin designated for dirty rags.

  “No, I’m not pregnant. I’m taking your advice,” I said. “And I’m going to…” I choked up.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Chris said, wrapping me in a hug. “I already knew, Susan called me.”

  I hugged him back. “That busybody. I can never make my ow
n freaking announcements.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you,” he said, stepping back and giving me a grin.

  “It’s worth a lot. But I haven’t actually done anything yet. I’m going to close the shop early today, as soon as the breakfast rush is over. I need to get all my paperwork together.”

  The bell over the door dinged and I turned to see our first customer walk in the door.

  “Mind if I start on the register today? I’m trying to resist temptation,” I said.

  Chris beamed, holding a hand out toward the register. “Be my guest.”

  I stepped up as a middle-aged woman stopped before the register.

  “Good morning. What can I get you?” I asked.

  Her gaze was fixed on the completely full pastry display case. Scones, muffins, Danishes and croissants lined up in perfect rows from the glass in the front to the mirrors in the back.

  “Are any of these gluten free?” she asked, her gaze still intent on the pastries.

  “Um, Chris, do we have any gluten-free pastries today?”

  “Yeah, the savory and sweet scones on the far right. They should be labeled,” he said.

  “Hey Chris, I didn’t see you back there,” the middle-aged woman said as she beamed over at Chris.

  “Good morning,” he sang, “Can I get a drink started for you?”

  “Double shot skinny latte,” she said.

  “For here or to go?” he asked.

  “Oh, to go, please,” she said.

  “Great,” he said, marking it on a cup.

  “Anything to eat? We also have gluten-free bagels,” I told her.

  “I’ll take the savory scone,” she ordered with a wide smile.

  By the time I rang her up, a line had formed behind her, the bell ringing every few minutes. I moved between the cash register and the bagel station in the back as The Coffee Spot filled with customers. When there was a break in the line, I bussed tables and wiped them down quickly so new customers could sit.

  “This is killing me,” I said as I stood over a large carafe refilling with coffee. I inhaled the fresh coffee scent as I watched the stream pour down.

  “You’re not drinking coffee?”

  “Susan says that I’m disgustingly addicted and I’ll never be healthy until I cut down.”

  “Cruel woman. But you can still drink some coffee?”

  “I’m allowed small doses once I’ve proven I’m not addicted,” I said.

  “Why are you letting her control you?”

  “That’s a seriously good question. I hate authority.” I heaved a sigh. “I’ve just never been very good at…structure. So, I guess I’m borrowing her ability to get stuff done.”

  “Whatever works.” He held up his hands.

  The bell rang again and I spun to see a woman already waiting at the counter, and another couple lining up behind her.

  “I’m sorry, what can I get for you?” I asked the tall blonde woman wearing a three-piece suit.

  “I want a mocha with half and half, no whip cream,” she with quick, clipped enunciation.

  “Alright, for here or to go?” I asked.

  “To go,” she said, drumming her manicured fingers on the counter.

  I marked up a cup and handed it over to Chris.

  “Is that going to be all?” I asked, forcing myself to give her a warm grin.

  “Yeah, just the drink,” she said, holding her card out to me.

  “Alright, that’s going to be five dollars,” I said.

  “Actually, it’s four,” she huffed, pointing at the large wooden sign over my head.

  I lowered my voice. “I’m sorry, the half and half is extra when it’s in a mocha. It says it right there at the end of the menu.” I pointed. “We could do it with whole milk instead.”

  “No, the half and half. But you’re definitely not getting a tip,” she said.

  When I handed her the receipt and a pen, she picked it up, and started to walk away.

  “Sorry, I need you to sign that one, this one is for you,” I said.

  She spun and glared at me. When she returned to the counter she wrote, “No tip!” in the space provided for a tip, and signed with a slash across the bottom of the paper.

  “Okay, thanks,” I said as I took the receipt from her and added it to the receipt pile in the cash register.

  The next group, an elderly couple who were regulars, needed another minute, so I waited at the counter for them to decide.

  “Mocha with half and half, no whip,” Chris called, putting the drink up on the coffee counter. The woman walked up in her tall heels, grabbed her drink from the counter and strode out of the shop.

  “What a psycho,” the elderly man, Avery, who was next in line said.

  His wife Charlie chuckled. “I think you handled her well, Jamie. I would have smacked her.”

  “We definitely get all types here,” I said under my breath.

  Chris came up behind me and pressed the button to open the register. He grabbed the women’s receipt and started laughing.

  “Let me see that,” Avery said. When Chris passed him the receipt, he cracked up so hard he had to grab his side.

  Charlie grabbed the receipt. “Ha. Like her spare change was going to put your kid through college.” She handed me the receipt back.

  I shook my head and put the receipt away.

  “Should I make you your regular?” Chris asked.

  “Yes, without a doubt,” Avery said.

  “Don’t you speak for me, Avery,” Charlie said, but she winked at me and Chris. “Yes, I’ll have my regular.”

  “Ha, okay, anything to eat?” I asked.

  “We can’t decide, so we’ll have one of each.”

  “Good choice,” I said, winking back.

  When I had gathered one of every pastry onto four plates, I rang them up.

  Charlie paid the tab with her credit card and pulled a twenty out of her wallet, stuffing it in our tip jar. “That is for you two lovely people,” she said.

  “Thank you so much you guys, you didn’t have to do that,” I said.

  They waved it away.

  “If there’s anything left over, bring it up and I’ll wrap it in plastic, okay?” I said.

  “Don’t worry, there won’t be,” Avery said, patting his wife on the back.

  The bell chimed again and again as several more customers entered, one after the other. I ate my third muffin as a seeded onion bagel toasted. When the bagel popped up, I washed my hands before preparing a lox special.

  I placed the plate on the counter and called out, “Lox special!” Turning back to the register, I stopped dead.

  Clarke stood at the head of the line, a placid grin on his face. He held up a hand in greeting.

  I exhaled slowly, my gaze fixed on his face. Forcing a smile onto my face, I walked to the cash register. “Hey Clarke, how’s it going?” I asked as casually as possible.

  “Great, Jamie. So you work here?” he asked me, glancing around.

  “Yep. Can I get you something?”

  “Yeah, what’s good here?” He ducked down over the display case, examining the few lingering pastries.

  “What do you like?” I asked.

  “The berry scone looks good. I’ll have that.” He stood, coming back up to the counter.

  “Uh, huh,” I said, inputting it into the cash register with shaky fingers. “That’ll be two fifty.”

  “I want a drink too,” he said, gaze on mine.

  “Sure, what would you like?” I asked.

  “What do you recommend?” he asked.

  “Coffee, black coffee,” I said, meeting his gaze.

  “Okay, I’ll take that, medium-sized,” he said, grinning.

  “Alright, that’ll be four even,” I said.

  He gave me the four cash and then dropped another large wad of cash into the tip jar. “See you later,” he said.

  Day Three: Ten-thirty

  I poured Clarke’s coffee a
s fast as possible, grabbed the berry scone, and put both into to-go containers. “Black coffee, berry scone,” I called out as I placed both on the coffee counter, pointedly not looking at him as I did.

  Without glancing his way, I focused on the line of customers waiting for drinks. When everyone was helped, I grabbed a dish towel. As I walked through the shop, wiping up spills and clearing plates, I looked from face to face. Carrying a stack of plates to the bussing station, I heaved a sigh, closing my eyes.

  “Everything okay?” Chris asked, stopping next to me.

  I gave him a smile. “Yeah, I’m just feeling the coffee deprivation.”

  “Did you know the caffeine in tea is different than the caffeine in coffee?” he asked.

  “I didn’t,” I said.

  “It’s a little known fact, but true. Have you ever had a green tea latte?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “I can’t say that I have,” I said.

  “Well, hold tight, you’re in for a treat,” he said.

  While Chris made my drink, I tidied up the bagel station and wiped the spills from the counter.

  “This is a green tea latte,” Chris said, holding a drink out with one hand and flourishing his other hand out.

  I looked into the cup. “It’s definitely green.”

  “Just drink it,” he said.

  I took the handle of the mug, lifting the cup to my lips. The aroma that rose from the drink was a little like green tea, but not as strong, and sweeter.

  “Drink it,” Chris growled.

  “Fine,” I said, smiling as I took a small sip. “Mmmm… tastes so good.”

  “I told you. That’s your new favorite drink,” he said, smacking me lightly with a rag.

  “It just might be,” I said. Glancing down, I examined the large wad of cash still sitting at the top of our tips in the tip jar. I raised my gaze to Chris’s. “Hey, Chris?”