Black Beans & Vice

by J. B. Stanley

  “Do I detect the sound of pan pipes?” James murmured softly in hopes of making Lucy grin. Ever since Jane and Eliot had become such a significant part of his life, Lucy had become more distant around James. She was always polite, but he knew that she was still coming to terms with the reality that any chance of rekindling their romance had evaporated.

  Not only did Lucy place law enforcement at the center of her life, but she also wanted to be free of dependents other than her trio of gargantuan German Shepherds. Still, James knew that although the gift of fatherhood had changed him forever (and for the good), Lucy viewed his new circumstance as a personal slight. He felt completely fulfilled and as of this point, she did not. Because he understood the crushing weight of loneliness and the sorrowful feeling of having been rejected, James tried to make his former flame smile whenever he could.

  Unaffected by his attempt at humor, Lucy skirted around the plush mauve sofa and approached the coffee table. She investigated each magazine closely but James knew she wasn’t really interested in the office’s reading material. She was merely nervous and was looking for clues as to Harmony York’s personality. Eying a small, gold-painted Buddha on the receptionist’s desk, James had to admit he shared Lucy’s trepidation.

  He settled down on the sofa with a copy of Body +Soul Magazine and had just flipped to an article on the best workout for one’s body shape when a pretty woman in her mid-twenties entered the room from deeper within the cottage.

  “Namaste!” She said and, folding her palms together, bowed her upper body. A curtain of shiny brown hair fell over her shoulders as she did so. Gillian immediately returned the greeting while the rest of the supper club members merely smiled idiotically.

  “My name is Skye,” the young woman said. “I’m Harmony’s assistant.”

  Bennett rolled his eyes at the name and Lindy quickly stepped in front of him. “You’re the one I spoke with on the phone. Thanks for mailing me the brochure. It sure convinced us to give this a try.”

  Skye swept her arm around the room in an encompassing gesture. “I’m afraid we don’t offer group hypnotherapy. Are you all here for the consultation?”

  “Yes,” Lindy answered firmly. “We have the same goal and since the first session is free, I figured we’d save Harmony’s time by coming together.” She smiled warmly at her friends. “Besides, we like to support one another when it comes to our issues with food—”

  Gillian interrupted, “So it makes sense for us to embark on this exciting new journey as one entity. We believe we’ll have better success this way.”

  Skye digested this rationale for a moment and appeared to have no objections. “Well, let me just tell Harmony that she has five clients waiting for her.” She gazed at each of them warmly and then said, “Please, help yourselves to some pure spring water flavored with organic orange slices. I’ll be back in one moment.”

  James watched the poised young lady walk away and then pivoted. “Where is the water?” He found that he was suddenly very thirsty.

  Bennett licked his lips and pointed at a stainless steel pitcher on Skye’s desk. “Man, I could slurp down a lake right about now. Was that the power of suggestion or what?”

  Fortified with glasses of cool and refreshing citrus-flavored water, the five friends made themselves comfortable. They had barely sipped from their recycled cups when Skye returned. “Harmony would be delighted to talk to you together. It would be a tight squeeze in her office so she’ll meet with you here, in our Welcome Space.”

  Skye dipped her head and walked gracefully to her desk. James watched her sit with the straight-backed posture of a ballerina. Her fingers moved with deliberate elegance over the computer keyboard and her face seemed infused with a serene glow. There was an air of calm assurance about her, an unusual trait in one so young. It was as if she already knew the answers to life’s most significant questions.

  I certainly didn’t feel that way when I was twenty-five, James thought.

  His attention was distracted by the arrival of Harmony York. James had expected someone with waist-long hair, a flowing skirt, and leather sandals. Someone who dressed, looked, and acted a bit like Gillian. Harmony and Gillian might have been cut from the same cloth, but while Gillian was outfitted in a vibrant tangerine-colored sundress, which echoed the orange shade of her wild, frizzy hair, Harmony wore a plain gray suit and a light blue blouse. Her hair was silver and fashioned in a sleek bob. She was in her late fifties, James guessed, though her age was difficult to approximate as her skin was mostly smooth and shone with the light of good health.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.” She went around the room, shaking hands with her five potential clients and asking for their names. She then pulled one of the side chairs positioned near Skye’s desk to the center of the room. She sat, smoothed her pants, and studied each and every one of them. Normally, such scrutiny would discomfit James, but Harmony’s gentle, almost caressing gaze actually encouraged him to relax.

  “Now.” She smiled. “Let me tell you what we do here. I will be your therapist and Skye will take care of scheduling, billing, and the creation of your daily listening CDs. I’ll explain how those work in a moment. First and foremost, allow me to assure you that anything you tell me will remain in the strictest confidence. During your therapy session, I’ll talk to you, but I will also ask you questions. I’ll be taking notes on your answers, but none of my movements will interrupt your relaxed state.”

  Bennett cleared his throat. “So we’re not under? We know what’s happenin’ to us?”

  “Absolutely,” Harmony answered calmly. “This isn’t sideshow hypnosis where you’re tricked into submitting to another person’s suggestions purely for the sake of entertainment. You will enter a deeply relaxed state so that your mind can become incredibly focused and alert while your body rests. I will ask your mind to do something for you and, with repetition, your mind will respond.”

  Lindy wiggled on her seat in excitement. “Well, like I explained to Skye, we don’t want to be controlled by sugar any longer. Can you help our bodies to stop wanting it so doggone badly?”

  Harmony laughed. Her voice was low and melodious. It reminded James of the seductive pitch shared by so many female actresses from the forties and fifties. “Yes, if you’re willing. You see, that’s another misconception about hypnosis. You cannot be hypnotized unless you’re willing to be hypnotized. Some people want to change, but they can’t trust enough to let go. I often can’t get through to those clients and I have to suggest another method of treatment for them.”

  “What other things do people get help for besides food issues?” Lucy asked with an edge of skepticism to her voice.

  If Harmony picked up on the negative tone, she didn’t let it show. “All kinds of things. Many clients want to stop repeating bad habits like smoking, overindulging in alcohol, gambling, drug abuse, and even nail biting. Others seek freedom from phobias such as a fear of flying or of confined spaces. And many want relief from chronic pain, depression, or destructive attitudes.”

  Gillian, who had been hanging on Harmony’s every word, sighed in delight. “Oh, this is so wonderful! When can we begin?”

  Harmony rose and walked over to Skye’s desk. She returned with a cup holder filled with pens and several pieces of paper. “Like everything else, we have to kick things off with paperwork.” She distributed two sheets to each of them. “The first is a consent form. This basically states that you understand the meaning of hypnotherapy. If, at any time, you wish to stop your session and leave the hypnotic state, you have the right and the ability to do so. You are in control.” She grinned as Bennett exhaled audibly in relief. “We will have three sessions together. Every night, as you lay down to sleep, you’ll listen to your reinforcement CD. That’s the gist of this form.”

  Lucy’s pen hovered over the signature line. “Will any of this be covered by health insurance?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Harmony shook her head in genuine regret
. “Payment is required at the end of every session and I’d prefer, if possible, to receive twenty-four hours advance notice in the event of a cancelation. Once you sign, feel free to schedule your first session with Skye.”

  “And what’s this? Homework?” Bennett joked as he flourished the second sheet of paper.

  Harmony laughed again. “That’s just a diagram to show you how hypnosis works. My goal is to bypass the conscious mind, which is where your short-term memory operates, and target the subconscious mind where permanent memory resides.”

  The five friends studied the drawing for a moment. Gillian actually traced her finger around the rings representing the different levels of the mind. James watched her in amusement, wondering whether she’d try to line up an appointment that very day. “So we’re going to retrain our mind’s memory into believing it doesn’t crave sugar?”

  Harmony beamed at Gillian as though she were a prize pupil. “Precisely. We’re going to rewire your permanent memory in order to get a positive reaction from your short-term memory. In this case, your short-term memory will wonder if you feel like a piece of cake. Your mind will check with your long-term memory and come back with the answer, ‘No, I don’t want to eat cake. That’s no longer a taste I’m interested in.’”

  Whipping out her checkbook and pocket calendar, Gillian leapt out of her seat and stood at attention in front of Skye’s desk. “When is the next opening? I simply cannot wait to begin this inner journey!”

  “How’s Tuesday at four-thirty?” Skye inquired.

  “Sublime!” Gillian shouted.

  Bennett rolled his eyes again. “Like a pig in mud,” he muttered.

  Lindy jabbed him in the arm with her capped pen. “Not the best of analogies there, Romeo.”

  Having booked her preliminary session, Gillian practically skipped over to Bennett, yanked him out of his sofa seat, and led him over to Skye. “And give him the five-thirty. This way, I can track him down if he gets cold feet at the last moment.”

  Bennett shot James a look of appeal. “That’s right, my friend.” James winked. “I want you to think about those feet. Especially the one with the bruised toes.”

  A scowl bloomed on Bennett’s face and James knew his friend was picturing their failed workout at the gym. “Five-thirty it is,” he told Skye with the forlorn resignation of one being led to the electric chair.

  James woke in his luxurious king-sized bed in his yellow house on Hickory Hill Lane in a good mood. The sun was shining, he could smell freshly brewed coffee wafting down the hallway, and Eliot and Jane were driving down from Harrisonburg for dinner.

  Sliding his feet into his leather slippers, James filled a mug featuring the slogan, “I’m a Librarian: Assume I Know Everything,” and took a leisurely walk down the driveway to collect the Saturday paper. Sliding the Shenandoah Star Ledger into his robe pocket, he examined the flowerbed at the base of the front porch.

  According to last night’s garden report on the community television channel, Quincy’s Gap and its environs had safely moved beyond the average date for the season’s final frost. The announcer proclaimed it officially time to begin spring planting.

  “Work hard now and rest all summer,” the Master Gardener had suggested.

  James decided to heed the expert’s advice. He sat at his kitchen table and searched the paper for sales on tulip and daffodil bulbs, azalea bushes, and phlox. After showering and dressing in his yard clothes, a faded William & Mary sweatshirt and jeans that had gone thin in the knees, James hopped into his old white Bronco and headed north.

  He deliberately selected one of the two-lane highways, doubling the length of the drive time to the nearest Lowe’s, but as he eased the vintage truck around curve after curve, he could feel his spirits rise as the road steepened. In his opinion, there was no place else on earth as beautiful as the Shenandoah Valley. The rugged line of the Blue Ridge Mountains, the wild forests, and the crisp, untainted air had always been a source of strength to James. After driving for twenty-five miles, he pulled over at one of the lookouts and parked the Bronco next to a minivan filled with a vacationing family from Ohio.

  He walked to the edge, leaned on the iron rail, and inhaled the scents of spring. The trees were covered with plump buds or newly unfurled leaves, highlighted by dappled sunlight. Everywhere he looked there was a glow of verdant green that only existed at the end of April.

  A red-tailed hawk circled overhead and as James watched the raptor adjust its wings to a draft of wind, the bird cried out with a hunter’s primeval call.

  “This is God’s Country,” the mother from the minivan spoke to her children breathlessly. James couldn’t agree more. He got back in the Bronco and spent the rest of the trip fantasizing about the trips he would take with his son. Like the family at the overlook, he wanted Eliot to see the wonders of his own region. Sure, there’d be a visit to Disneyland too, but it was important to James to foster a sense of state pride in his child and he couldn’t imagine a better way to do that than to embark on a series of road trips.

  On the other hand, the idea of pitching tents and spending the night in a bug-infested woods didn’t appeal to James. Though he hated to admit it, he’d grown rather soft now that he’d entered his middle years and wondered how he could create the intimacy of the camping environment without actually having to resort to sleeping bags, canned food, and the absence of a morning shower.

  “Jane will come up with a plan,” he said with confidence and then realized that he had included her in his vacation fantasies. Over the past few months, he’d spent every weekend and several weeknights with his ex-wife, but they’d never been alone. Eliot was always present and often, Jackson and Milla were too. James’ normally irascible father melted like a pat of butter in the frying pan anytime he was with his grandson and Milla was in danger of spoiling the child completely. She never stopped by the house empty-handed and should Eliot visit her store, Quincy’s Whimsies, he was allowed to pick out any candy he wanted from the bulk bins. Eliot knew, for the price of a kiss and a hug, he could procure more sugar than his mother would allow over the course of a week.

  At first, Jane smiled indulgently. She had longed for a loving reception from James’ family when it came to her only child, but she didn’t want Eliot’s new grandparents to become overindulgent. After holding her tongue for a month, Jane convinced Milla to settle for giving Eliot two pieces of candy instead of twenty and begged the older woman to ease off on the gift giving unless it was a special occasion. Milla had respectfully promised to obey Eliot’s mother, but James knew full well that she slipped Eliot little treats on the sly. Fortunately, Eliot seemed more interested in spending time with his grandparents than in garnering material goods, and since he was a very well-mannered little boy, James decided not to tell Jane about Milla’s infractions.

  All in all, James and Jane were united when it came to the manner in which they would raise their son. Intent on molding a person of strong character, they had spent several long evenings agreeing on a set of rules for Eliot to obey in both of their homes. The discussions had gone smoothly and James had told his ex more than once that he was extremely impressed by her mothering skills. Jane had blushed at the praise, her pretty face—now fuller and rounder than it had been when they were married—tinged pink with pleasure.

  Thinking of her now, James experienced a powerful and unexpected wave of lust. As their friendship had been renewed, reminding James of the year they’d dated before becoming engaged, he recalled all the reasons he’d proposed in the first place. He loved her sense of humor and quick wit, and he enjoyed being able to discuss books with her. Now, however, he felt the desire to touch her as well. Every time he saw Jane he wanted to kiss her. On the lips, the neck, the soft skin on her shoulder.

  James knew such feelings would complicate their lives but he couldn’t help himself. Jane was no longer the skinny, angular woman he’d wed, but a curvy, soft, and enticing woman of forty. She was growing out her layered bob
and now it hung in thick waves of lustrous walnut-brown to her shoulders. How James longed to stroke that hair, to touch the silky locks and then slide his hand down the nape of her lovely neck. Her body, once familiar to him, was now intriguing new territory. One that he was hungry to explore.

  “Stop it!” he chided his stimulated libido. “I’m supposed to be focusing on plants!”

  But even as he wandered through the rows and rows of vibrant blooms at Lowe’s, he tried to recall which flowers Jane preferred. Eliot loved the color yellow, so James selected a flat of daffodils to plant alongside the front walkway. He noticed that Jane often wore a lavender sweater set. In hopes of pleasing her, he picked out a flat of light purple phlox. He skipped the tulips, knowing the deer that routinely meandered through his property would make a quick meal of the bright red and orange flowers. In fact, the Master Gardener on last night’s television program had also listed skunks, squirrels, mice, rats, and voles as tulip destroyers and James assumed that his spacious lot harbored these creatures in droves. Instead, he selected a few bleeding hearts for the corner of the porch bed that remained in partial shade, and pushed his loaded cart to the checkout counter.

  When the sales associate rang up his purchase and the total flashed upon the register screen, James nearly passed out.

  “That’s with the coupons?” he asked shrilly.

  The young woman didn’t bother to look up from the register. “Yep. If you’re using a credit card, you can slide it now, sir.”

  Outside, he carefully examined his receipt and saw that the sale had been tendered correctly.

  “I wanted my own house,” James muttered as he transferred his purchases into the Bronco. “I wanted independence and privacy and to own something other than a bunch of dog-eared paperbacks and comic books. I agreed to humbly accept all the gripes and grievances that go with home ownership. Well, here’s a big, fat gripe. Plants cost way too much money.”

  His bright mood a bit dampened by the morning’s expenditure, James decided to return home for lunch instead of treating himself to a burger and fries.