Jade looked back at me then. “You appear to have a habit of not eating during the day.” She glanced down at my paper. “You’re probably busy with work, then at the end of the day, you’re starving and eat whatever you find in the fridge or order pizza. Often you eat way too much to make up for what you didn’t get during the day.”
“Bingo.” Miranda pointed at me. “She nailed your ass.”
“I can write up a meal plan,” Jade continued. “You’ll have to shop, both of you will, but if you get into the habit of eating healthier, you’ll see the results you want.” She looked down at the papers in her lap again. “I’ll also write up an exercise plan that will target the areas you want to work. If you’re unfamiliar with any of the machines, I or any of the trainers will be happy to demonstrate for you.”
Miranda and I nodded our agreement.
“Set some goals for yourselves. I can help with that or you can do it on your own, but I think it’s easier if you have something to work toward.” She looked at Miranda then. “As I’ve told Sloan, my client list is full, but I can do some rearranging if you need extra help. I can also suggest other trainers who have openings if you want to go that route.”
“We’ll work from the plan you come up with,” I said before Miranda could speak. “If we don’t see results, we might consider enlisting the help of a trainer.” I looked at Miranda, and she gave me a thumbs-up.
“Great.” Jade stood, and Miranda and I followed suit. She shook Miranda’s hand but withdrew when she turned to me. “I remember, germaphobe.” She tucked her hand behind her back and shot me her half smile.
I nodded. “Thanks for taking the time, Jade.”
Miranda and I walked down the hall together, holding all comment until we were outside. The ride home wasn’t that long, but I’d had to pee before the meeting with Jade, and I decided I couldn’t wait. “Gotta visit the potty,” I said to Miranda. I turned on one heel and slammed into Jade. We fell against the wall, and her arms went around my waist to steady me. The contact was surprising and brief, but it didn’t stop the flashes that entered my mind or the wash of feeling that encompassed me.
I stepped back on shaky legs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were behind me.”
“That’s okay.” Jade pushed off the wall. “Are you all right?” she asked as she looked me over.
“I’m fine, sorry again.” I half ran to the bathroom. In the privacy of the stall, I hovered over the toilet seat. In that case, I really was a germaphobe. Through Jade’s eyes, I saw the road before me. I didn’t recognize it, and I was fairly certain she didn’t, either. Though brief, the image really didn’t reveal anything, but the feelings that came with it made me uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be there. Fear and revulsion coalesced into painful resignation. None of it made sense to me, but I did know one thing—Jade was unhappy.
*******
“So what did you see when you bumped into her?” Miranda asked when I joined her in the parking lot.
“Just a quick glimpse of her riding in someone’s car. She didn’t seem happy about it.”
“Probably one of those dates you have—a lot. She was with someone she didn’t like and was trying to get out of it.”
“Probably,” I said with a nod.
Normally, our way of saying good night was a fist bump. In the habit, Miranda raised her fist, then awkwardly tucked her hand behind her back. “I’m trying to get used to this. My mind has been going ninety miles an hour since you told me.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her gym pants. “It won’t always be so awkward. We’ll work through this…like we’ve always worked through things.”
I wanted to hug her. Perhaps another byproduct of my experience, I craved to give and receive affection, and now ironically, I couldn’t. “Thanks.” I opened the door to my car and smiled back at her. “Give Marty a kiss for me, will ya?”
Miranda looked at me oddly for a second before saying, “Will do.”
Chapter 3
A few days later, Jade produced a diet and workout plan for Miranda and me. Dutifully, I went to the grocery store that night after the gym and purchased the foods on the list. I was pleasantly surprised to note it didn’t include wing of bat or eye of newt as I had anticipated. Most were meats and veggies I already liked but was too lazy to take the time to cook. That had to change. I’d known it for a while.
It was late when I got home, so I had turkey on wheat with slices of dill pickle instead of condiments. I washed it down with a glass of water, showered, and went to bed. I thought I had a pretty decent handle on loneliness. Surrounded by friends who had companions, I recognized the empty feeling often. I’d keep it at bay by going home and getting online. Usually, by the next weekend, I’d have a date, someone to occupy my time and sometimes my bed. But in the quiet hours when I lay staring at the ceiling as I did that night, I felt it creeping in, as familiar to me as the pillow beneath my head. But unlike the pillow, it brought me no comfort.
Marty and Miranda had been together for six years. Deb and Angel for three, Lonna and Paige had just celebrated their first anniversary. Miranda, Deb, and Lonna were my friends, and I’d watched each of them fall in love and enter the world of coupledom. I’d seen lovers come and go, but now it all seemed different. They were settled, happy, content.
I never bothered to question why I hadn’t done the same. I told myself and them that it just wasn’t my thing. Miranda knew better, and I did, too, even though I denied it to everyone, including myself. I was scared. My mother, brother, and ultimately, my aunt had left me. Even Momma Donahue when she succumbed to complications from diabetes. I was afraid to invest my feelings in someone, even though I’d done it with Miranda. I had no choice, really. She wove her way into my heart over time. But to trust to hope…that was just too scary for me, the price way too high to pay.
*******
I ate breakfast according to Jade’s meal plan, then I went to the store and opened up. I felt good, energized, ready to face the day with the loneliness of night far behind me. I’d no sooner sat down to craft another necklace when a couple of women walked into my shop. They were middle-aged and wealthy looking, perhaps a couple of snowbirds looking for a few things to spruce up the winter nest before flying to their summer homes in cooler climates. I greeted them with a smile and gave my usual spiel, “Look around and let me know if you need anything.”
One came to the counter where I was working. “How much are the Adirondack chairs out front?”
“They’re seventy-five, unless you’re looking at the ones that are painted, and they’re a hundred. Buy two of either and get twenty percent off.”
The woman with way too many dangly bracelets looked back at her friend, who nodded. “We’ll definitely take two of the painted ones, but I’ll have to come back this afternoon when my husband comes in from fishing. He has the truck, you see.”
I nodded and smiled.
“You’ll load them, won’t you? He has a bad back.”
“Yes, ma’am, of course.”
Her gaze moved to the rack of necklaces I had painstakingly hand-woven the best shells I could find into. The corner of her mouth sagged. “Chintzy.”
And I said in my mind only, Asshole.
She strolled off looking at other things, then called to me from somewhere in the back of the store. When I found them, she and her friend were admiring an antique surfboard mounted on the wall too high for them to reach. “That would look perfect on the wall of my sun porch. Could you get it down for us? I’d like to have a closer look.”
“Certainly.” I grabbed my footstool, took the board down, and held it for their inspection.
“Is this real or is it just made to look that way?”
“It’s real—” The air went out of my lungs in a rush when the woman laid her hand on my arm to ask another question.
I was in an office, and a man in a white lab coat was sitting next to me. He gently took my hand in his. “I know the chemo and radiation were
hard to endure the last time—”
I felt her sadness, worry for her husband and children. She spoke, and I could feel the words passing over my tongue as if I’d said them myself. “Not this time. I’m going to live out my last days doing things I enjoy, not lying in bed or hovering over a toilet. When the pain becomes too unmanageable, you’ll help me with that, won’t you?”
The connection broke when she released me. “Miss, are you okay?”
I stared at her speechless for so long that the women exchanged nervous glances. “I’m sorry,” I said with a shake of my head. “Got a lot on my mind, lost my train of thought.” My hands trembled as I looked down at the board. Had she told me she was dying, I’d have felt sympathy, but to see it, experience it tore a hole in my heart. “I’d like you to have this…if you want it. Free of charge.”
The women exchanged glances again.
“I got it cheap.” That was a lie. “And since you’re buying the chairs, I’d like to throw it in. It’s perfect for a sun porch.”
“Well, thank you,” the woman said, still looking stunned.
“I’ll put it behind the counter, and when you come back for the chairs, I’ll load it for you.” I walked away before I started crying.
*******
“You finally sold the board.” Miranda walked into the store and looked at the bare spot on the wall. “Bet you lost money on it.”
I stared down at the counter. “I did.”
“How much? Was it bad? Does your ass burn?”
I laughed at her choice of words. “I gave it away.”
“What?” Miranda’s jaw sagged. “I’ve been hounding you for years to let me buy that board for what you paid for it.”
“I know.” I looked at her sadly. “She touched me.”
Miranda was winding up for a tirade. Her face fell. “What did you see?”
“She’s terminally ill with cancer, I think.” I shivered as that memory flashed through my mind again.
Miranda swallowed and smacked her lips. “I see. Maybe…you really should consider the welding gloves and perhaps a suit of armor.”
I scrubbed at my face. “Maybe I should hire someone to work in the store full time and I’ll stay home.”
Miranda looked at me and said sarcastically, “You can’t afford to, especially now that you’re giving all your shit away.”
“What am I going to do?” I asked miserably. “I can’t always avoid human contact unless I hide away.”
“Not an option you should consider. I mean, I won’t let you consider it.” Miranda reached out to touch my hand and hesitated. I watched as it dawned on her just how dismal my situation was becoming. “We have to figure this out.”
“How’re we gonna do that?” I hoped she’d done better at figuring it out than I had in the last two months.
“Practice on me. Let’s get together after you close the store and see what we can do.”
Miranda spent one of two days off milling around the store with me, and she took care of the few customers who came in. After, we loaded the Adirondack chairs for the customer I’d given my surfboard to. Miranda hugged the bewildered woman twice and her husband once. We went back to the house, and I whipped up dinner according to Jade’s meal plan. I didn’t have to ask if Marty minded coming home to an empty house. She’d grown used to having to share Miranda with me.
I wasn’t as enthusiastic as Miranda was, but by the end of dinner, I did have an inkling of hope. Maybe I could control it, at least enough to tolerate brief contact and maybe even a hug. I watched as Miranda took our plates to the sink and stuffed a cucumber slice into her mouth. When she returned to the table, she was all business.
“I think you should touch me for a minute and get used to it. Then clear your head and touch me again but briefly until you can get a grip on your mind.”
“Okay.” I watched as she put her hand on the table in front of me. I glanced at her face, and she gave me that “go ahead” look. It didn’t matter if I touched her with my fingertips or entire hand, the second my flesh contacted with hers, the movie began.
Through Miranda, I was standing at the graveside of Momma Donahue alone. The crowd that had gathered there had all slipped away, leaving me to stare at the last thing I would remember of my mother. A sob escaped my chest as the summer breeze caressed my skin, and the smell of flowers filled my senses.
I knew she was sick. I knew she was dying, and as prepared as I thought I was when that day came, it took me completely by surprise. Nothing prepared you for the loss of a parent, especially when you’d only had one your whole life. I looked back over my shoulder…and there I stood. Seeing myself through Miranda’s eyes was a shock. I looked so small standing there in my black suit, my hands going into pockets only to reappear seconds later. But on my face was the same pain that was tearing Miranda up inside, and she knew it. Miranda walked over to where I stood and took me in her arms. I felt what it was like to hold me, such an odd sensation. Probably the most stunning thing I gleaned from the vision was Miranda’s feelings. During that hug, she accepted as I did on that day that we only had each other.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” I sat back in my chair feeling like I did the day of the funeral.
“What did you see?”
“You at Mom’s funeral. Remember when we were alone at the graveside and we hugged?”
Miranda nodded and averted her eyes. Her mother had been gone for nearly eight years, but she still couldn’t talk about her without getting misty. “So you saw me in the cemetery.”
“No, not just saw you. I was you. I felt everything you felt in those moments. I think that’s the real downside to this. I’m in your body. I feel and see it all as if we were the same person.” I scratched my arm for an itch that wasn’t there, needing something to do.
“I was thinking about that time we collected all those glass drink bottles and turned them in for the deposit so we could buy cigarettes.” Miranda grinned. “As I recall, you puked after the first puff.”
I smiled at the memory, but my mind was on my problem. “You know what’s weird? When I first touched you, I felt your excitement over what we would come up with, then it all switched like it does in a dream. I feel your emotions now and the ones you had in the cemetery then.”
Miranda looked at me for a second, clearly not listening to a word. “Touch me again, but this time, focus on the memory of us smoking. I’ll think of it, too.”
I did as she asked, and soon I felt the burning in my chest and the roiling of my stomach as I in Miranda’s body inhaled the smoke. It tasted nasty in my mouth, but I was determined to look cool. Watching through Miranda’s eyes, I saw myself inhale from my own cigarette, my face contorted, but I made another attempt. Then I was retching. I felt Miranda’s amusement, felt the laugh rumble from my chest and my stomach whirling.
“You were sick, too, you ass. Why didn’t you tell me it nauseated you?”
Miranda looked at me in surprise as I smacked my lips with the taste of the cigarette still on my tongue.
“See, you can control it. You picked a memory, then you were there.” Miranda slammed her hands on the table. “First experiment successful. Now, part two. Touch me again, and whatever comes to your mind, reject it. Do it quickly at first.”
I touched her hand again and looked down at myself lying in a hospital bed. I knew I was okay, but I needed…I needed to be close and hand holding wasn’t enough. I felt my knees press into the mattress…
“You’re not stopping.” Miranda pulled her hand away.
“I can’t help it. It’s just so weird when I’m looking at myself.”
Miranda put her hand back down. “Try harder.”
I lay mine atop hers, and I immediately saw myself in that hospital bed again. I clamped my eyes shut, trying to push the image away, and it worked when I pictured my favorite spot on the beach. What did not fade were the feelings. The internal pleading, Please don’t leave me. Please don’t ever leave me.
I shoved away from the table angrily. “This isn’t going to work. I’m so screwed!”
Miranda watched as I paced back and forth, then spoke softly. “It’s not going to work the first time. It’s going to take practice.”
“I don’t want to practice.” I paced some more and finally calmed. “Not tonight. No more tonight, please.”
“I should be getting home anyway.” Miranda stood and stretched, then she held out her fist. I looked at it a moment before I banged it with mine. For a fleeting second, I felt her disappointment in me.
Chapter 4
“I hate lunges.” Miranda grunted alongside me. “All this equipment and we’re squatting around like chickens trying to lay an egg. And all the protein she has us eating makes me want to fart twenty-four seven.”
“How nice for Marty.”
“If I blow one, I’m blaming it on you.” Miranda grunted again, and I feared she would deliver on her promise.
“Looking good, ladies,” Jade said as she passed by. “Keep your backs straight.”
“Piss off, P.P.,” Miranda said under her breath.
“I wonder if she does lunges and how many she had to do to get that tone in her thighs.” I watched the muscles flex as she moved more with envy, less lust.
“She probably does all sorts of shit.” Miranda stood up straight with a groan when we reached the wall. “Obviously, she’s a masochist and gets off on the pain. Or maybe she’s a sadist and likes hurting us.”
“Shut up,” I said as I saw Jade head our way.
“I think y’all might be sweating more than usual,” she said with that crooked smile that only showed a couple of teeth and never reached her eyes.
“Then I guess we’re doing it right.” I looked at Miranda, who grunted. “You have to at least give us an A for effort.”
“Absolutely.” Jade put her hands on her hips. “I suggest soaking in a tub with some Epsom salt for the soreness.”
“Getting out of the tub is going to be the problem.” Miranda rubbed her lower back, then her neck. She jerked a thumb in my direction. “Unlike me, she doesn’t have anyone to pull her out, and I’m in no shape to rush over and do it.”
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