by Jane Heller
“Stand right here, Crystal,” Will instructed me, guiding me to a spot directly in front of him. “Extend your arms straight out, like a bird in flight.” I did as I was told. “Close your eyes. The smudging will be more powerful for you that way.” I closed my eyes. “I will be chanting in my native language as I wave the smoky sage around your body. You will not understand the words, but you will feel them. They will be expressing our thanks to Heaven, Earth, and Spirit. They will also be asking for light along your path and peace to your journey.”
I opened my eyes. “My journey? So I’m taking the flight back to New York on Thursday?”
“I am a spiritualist, Crystal, not a travel agent.” Will chuckled at his own joke. Obviously, he had a sense of humor he trotted out on special occasions. “I was speaking of your spiritual journey,” he said more seriously. “I cannot advise you about your plans or tell you what to do or not do. My role is to lead you inward, to move you toward your own insights.”
I nodded, thinking what a burden it was to have to come up with one’s own insights.
But then I closed my eyes and surrendered to the smoky sage, the lyrical chanting, the mild, dry evening. It was such a pleasant experience, having so many senses activated simultaneously. I felt suspended in time, as if I were floating in some never-never land where nothing mattered and everything mattered, where ideas flowed freely, abstractly, randomly, where you could be detached from your own body yet exquisitely aware of it.
So this is what it’s like to have your aura cleansed, I mused. Relaxing. Calming. Like having a really good facial.
At some point, a coyote’s howl echoed through the darkness, a note that reverberated in perfect harmony with Will’s chanting. It was a startling moment, a musical coming-together of man and nature, a stunning example of the “oneness” everybody in Sedona was always talking about.
The aura cleansing lasted about ten minutes. When it was over, Will blew out the burning sage and returned it to his black bag.
“Was it what you expected?” he asked me.
“I don’t know what I expected,” I admitted. “All I know is that when I first came to Sedona, I was dismissive of auras and vortexes and people who channel ancient entities. I had a blanket skepticism toward anything ‘New Age.’ But now I’m open to alternative ways of looking at things. My focus used to be so narrow, Will. I filled my life with numbers and calculations and spreadsheets. But this trip has made me more curious about the way other people lead their lives, about rituals and legends, for instance. I’ve enjoyed just being exposed to them, to you. What I’m trying to say is that meeting you has been a gift, Will. I mean that.”
He smiled, reaching for my hand.
“Terry used to speak about you,” he said, “about how much he admired you. I see why. You are honest. You do not pretend. You are your own person, a slave to no one.”
“That hasn’t always been the case,” I said. “Before I came here, I was a slave to everyone. And pleasing none of them, by the way.”
“You feel differently now?”
“I’m beginning to.”
Will nodded, releasing my hand.
“Peace to your journey,” he said again.
“And to yours,” I said.
After the Singletons left, Cynthia tried to round up her daughters, calling upstairs to them, reminding them that tomorrow was Monday, a school day, and that it was way past their bedtime. They promised they’d be right down but weren’t, which gave us a few minutes to ourselves while Terry was in the backyard, sipping the last of the wine.
“I have a confession to make,” she said as we stood together in the foyer. “I’ve always had a soft spot for Terry.”
“Have you?” I said, not surprised. A lot of women had a soft spot for Terry, back when we were in college. Why not now?
“Yes,” she admitted. “But he’s never been interested in me romantically. As a matter of fact, I’d never seen him interested in anybody romantically until you came to Sedona. He’s crazy about you, Crystal. You must know that.”
“I know he wants me to stay here, to give us another chance.”
“And?”
“And I don’t see how I can.”
She shook her head. “I don’t see how you can’t.”
“You weren’t married to Terry, Cynthia. He didn’t disappoint you.”
“From the look on your face, he isn’t disappointing you anymore.”
“No, but it’s one thing to spend a few days with an old flame, another thing to throw yourself into the fire.”
“And it’s still another thing to douse the fire before it’s even gotten started. You haven’t spent enough time with Terry to know for sure whether you two could make it work the second time around. You haven’t let him show you—”
Cynthia stopped, realizing that she was lecturing me. She broke into a wide grin. “Would you listen to me?” she laughed. “Sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong?”
“Actually, I was about to tell you to mind your own business,” I said, laughing with her.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had,” she said. “I’m sorry if I was badgering you. I like you, Crystal. Aside from wanting to see Terry happy, I have a selfish reason for seeing you stay in town—I think we could be friends.”
“I think we are already,” I said. “I only let one other person badger me and I’ve known her a lot longer than I’ve known you.”
“Look,” she said. “You sound as if you’ve made up your mind to leave Sedona. But if you ever feel the need to talk, just call me, okay? We can be telephone friends, if nothing else.”
“It’s a deal,” I said, realizing, suddenly, how many years it had been since I’d made a new friend.
Once Cynthia and her daughters went home and Annie collapsed into bed, Terry and I tackled the dishes. Neither of us said much—there was only an occasional “I’ll do that” as he washed and I dried. We were both too worn out for a conversation—or too wary of one, I wasn’t sure which.
It wasn’t until everything was clean and put away that he finally looked at me and remarked, “Some day this was, huh?”
I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Some day,” I agreed. “Some vacation.”
“Is the vacation over?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “Not yet. In fact, I happen to know that there’s a nifty little guest room upstairs. We could ask the guy who owns this place if it’s free for the night. How about it?”
“You ask him. He’s sweet on you, I hear.”
I smiled. “He’s sweet, period.”
Our lovemaking that night was quiet, silent almost. And not because we were afraid of waking Annie, whose earlier acrobatics, we were certain, would knock her out for at least eight hours. No, it was that we were especially gentle with each other, tender, careful. Terry, who had nearly lost his daughter that afternoon, now seemed resigned to losing me instead and, as a result, held his usual passion in check, barely making a sound when he climaxed in my arms. And I, conflicted about loving him, conflicted about leaving him, was fearful that I would be leading him on if I reveled ostentatiously in the pleasure his lovemaking brought me.
In the morning, it was he who roused me from sleep, kissing the tip of my nose and then slipping out of bed, back to his own room, showering and dressing before Annie came downstairs for breakfast.
“You sure you want to go to school today?” he was asking her when I entered the kitchen. “You’re a star now, a big cheese. The media might hound you during recess.”
“Then Doug Freehan will protect me,” said Annie.
“Who’s Doug Freehan?” I asked.
“Yeah. Who’s Doug Freehan?” Terry echoed.
“A kid in my class,” Annie explained. “Last night, Laura told me he likes me.”
Terry and I tried to keep straight faces.
“How do you feel about him?” I asked.
Annie considered the question. “I’m not ready
for a serious relationship,” she said finally. “I’m too young.”
“A wise girl,” said Terry, relieved.
“But in a month, I’ll be eleven,” Annie added. “I might like Doug Freehan better then.”
When it was time for her to leave for school, she kissed her father and me goodbye. “See you guys later,” she said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Terry and I laughed and watched her scoot out the door. Just then, the phone rang. He ran back into the kitchen to answer it.
“Hello?” he said. “Who? Oh, it’s the famous Rona Wishnick. The one I’ve heard so much about.”
Dear Rona. I wondered how long it would take before news of Amanda’s miraculous reappearance would reach her. I assumed she was calling to get the gory details.
“Yup. Crystal’s still staying here,” Terry said to her. “She’s standing right next to me. I’ll put her on.”
He handed me the telephone.
“Hi, Rona. How are you?” I asked, realizing how much I had missed her, missed her meddling in my life.
“I’m exhawsted,” she said in her nasal honk. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Why not?” I asked. Ever since she’d started taking melatonin, she’d been sleeping like a log.
“Because I was worrying about you, why else?” she said. “Between the Amanda business, the Steven business, and the ex-husband business, I’ve been a mess.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Everything’s okay now. I promise. When I get home on Thursday, I’ll fill you in on all of the above.”
There. I’d uttered the words. In front of Terry. I was leaving Sedona on Thursday as originally planned. No, blurting it out to Rona on the phone wasn’t the tactful, sensitive way I’d hoped to break the news to him, but judging by the look on his face, my confirmed date of departure wasn’t a total revelation. In fact, he didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Just disappointed. He took my hand and brought it to his lips.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t wait until Thursday, Crystal,” Rona said. “That’s why I called.”
“Uh-oh. What’s going on?” I asked.
She sighed. “Big doings, that’s what. Otis stopped by my desk this morning, full of his usual doom and gloom. He told me to tell you that a partners’ meeting has been scheduled for Wednesday at nine a.m. He gave me the distinct impression that you’re expected to be there. He said it was an extremely important meeting involving key personnel changes.”
“Key personnel changes?”
“That’s what he said.”
Well, this is it, I thought. This is really it. They’re getting everybody in one room so they can fire me together. It’s the old united-front thing, the old safety-in-numbers thing, the old gang-up-on-her-so-she’ll-be-too-intimidated-to-fight-us thing. They’re anticipating a lawsuit, just the way Steven warned me they would, so they want to make sure I understand that it’s me against the company. The fuckers.
“Crystal? Are you changing your flight or not?” asked Rona.
“Give me a minute.”
Today is Monday, I thought. The meeting at Duboff Spector is Wednesday morning. In order to get back in time for the meeting, I’d have to fly out of Phoenix tomorrow afternoon instead of on Thursday afternoon. Which would mean I’d have to leave Sedona tomorrow morning. Which would mean tonight would be my last night with Terry.
Damn. What was I supposed to do? Stay? Go? What?
I was planning to leave Sedona anyway, wasn’t I? I reminded myself. What difference did it make if I left a couple of days earlier? Saying goodbye to Terry and Annie was going to tear my heart out, whether I did it tomorrow, the next day, or the day after that. It was going to hurt like hell and I wasn’t looking forward to it. So why not get it over with?
Besides, I really had to take care of the situation at Duboff Spector, had to deal with it. Putting in an appearance at the partners’ meeting would enable me to look my colleagues in the eye, speak up for myself, control my own destiny. I wouldn’t have to be summoned into Otis Tool’s office the day I got back like some poor, pathetic shlep, wouldn’t have to hear everything after the fact.
Everything happens for a reason.
Sure, Jazeem, sure. But what’s the reason this time? Did Rona call me about the meeting so I’d be nudged into leaving Sedona sooner rather than later? So I’d have to pull away from my past once and for all? So I’d be forced to resolve my feelings for Terry quickly and cleanly?
I looked at him then, studied his ruggedly handsome face, his athletic, sinewy body, his blue, blue eyes.
I love you, I thought. Not still. Not more. Not differently.
Always. I love you always.
But sometimes love isn’t enough, my long-lost college sweetheart. It wasn’t enough for us before. It won’t be enough for us now. I have to leave you, have to go home.
“I’ll call the airlines,” I told Rona, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. “I’ll let you know if I have any trouble changing my flight. If you don’t hear from me, I’ll see you Wednesday morning. Nine o’clock.”
“Are you okay, Crystal?” she asked. “You don’t sound so great all of a sudden.”
“I’m fine,” I said. And I was. It was just that making tough decisions is a bitch, whether you’ve had your aura cleansed or not.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I asked Terry a few minutes after I’d finished speaking to the ticket agent at America West and had changed my flight without a hassle.
“What’s there to say?” he replied from across the kitchen. He was leaning against the sink, his legs crossed at the ankles. He seemed distant, suddenly, sullen, as if the actual fact of my leaving had finally sunk in. “I told you the first night we spent together that I was grateful you came back into my life, grateful that I could be with you again after all these years. Do I want you to stay in Sedona? Relocate here? Live with me? Yeah. Do I expect you to? Not a chance. You made it clear right from the get-go that your home is in New York.”
“It is,” I confirmed.
“Even though the boyfriend’s history,” he said.
“Yes. My father’s in New York,” I reminded him.
“You have no relationship with your father, Crystal,” he reminded me.
“Well then, there’s my career,” I pointed out.
“At Duboff Spector,” he said sarcastically. “The outfit that’s about to can you.”
“Look, Terry. If you don’t understand why I have to be at that meeting on Wednesday—”
“I understand perfectly,” he interrupted. “Your work comes first. It always has.”
“It’s always had to,” I shot back. “You can’t depend on other people to pay your way in this world. I learned that lesson the hard way.”
“Oh, give it a rest,” Terry said, waving his hand in the air. “The past is the past. It’s over and done with.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I said hotly.
There were several seconds of awkward silence during which we both stared at the floor. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I started things up again.
“The meeting at Duboff Spector has nothing to do with why I’m leaving,” I said. “It only has to do with when I’m leaving.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I was leaving anyway. You predicted that I was leaving. You said so yourself.”
“Right. I’m psychic.”
Great. He’s doing just what he used to do whenever we fought, I thought. He’s covering up his feelings with jokes, sarcasm, little digs.
“You expected me to leave,” I kept on, “because you knew I’m not the type of person who shirks responsibility.”
“And I am?”
“No. Not anymore.”
“So?”
“So I can’t just pick up the phone, call the partners at Duboff Spector, and announce that I’m not coming back. I can’t call my father and tell him I’m not coming back, either
. And then there’s my apartment. I’m not about to have Rona mail me my clothes, put my furniture in storage, and sell the place.”
“I’ve heard of stranger scenarios.”
“I’ll bet you have.”
“Excuse me?”
“Forget I said that. I was making the point that my leaving has nothing to do with my career. It has to do with us, Terry. We aren’t compatible.”
He laughed scornfully. “Compatible the way you and Steven Moth were?”
“No. Compatible the way you and I never have been.”
“Really? I thought we were pretty compatible upstairs in that guest room.”
“I’m not talking about sex.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about, Crystal? I’m totally in the dark here.”
“I’m talking about our marriage, okay? I’m talking about the fact that it bombed.”
“So what? That was almost twenty years ago. We’re different people now.”
“How do you know that, Terry? What if I go back to New York, pack up all my worldly belongings, kiss the Big Apple goodbye, move into this house with you—and the relationship bombs again? Then what?”
“Then you’ll do something else.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
I shook my head. “You’re not facing reality.”
“Sure I am. We have different realities, that’s all. Yours is that people can’t afford to take chances. Mine is that people can’t afford not to. If you hadn’t flown out here on a whim, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. I might never have seen you again.”
“True. But for me to change my life so radically—”
“I’d help you. My friends would help you. Annie would help you.”
“Annie. Now there’s another factor to consider. What if you and I got together, it didn’t work out between us, and I went back to New York? She’d be abandoned yet again. She doesn’t deserve that.”