The Redemption of River

by Eli Easton

  “Ovarian cancer,” Brent choked out. “Dr. Halloran didn’t tell you?”

  “No. Sometimes we take on the suffering of others, internalize it, store it in our bodies. It’s a way of trying to ease their burden.”

  That made no sense. Brent had never tried to take Kathy’s pain. Not like that. Had he?

  “I know it feels blocked, but breathe into my hands as best you can, try to release the tension here. Sync your breath with mine. Ready?”

  Even with his eyes closed, Brent could hear River’s long, loud breaths, and he mimicked them. They breathed together—in, out. River pressed on his belly, or maybe it just felt like he did, or maybe Brent was crazy. Queasiness washed through him. Dark emotion rolled up as if rising from an abyss. He realized he was shaking all over. A sob tore from his chest.

  “You’re doing great. I know it’s uncomfortable, but we’ve got to bring up that pain so we can release it,” River urged softly. “Now imagine it’s attached to my hands. We’re going to move that pain and grief up your spine. Ready?” He ran his hot hands slowly up from Brent’s belly to his ribs, then his chest, then neck. His hands felt so heavy. Brent could imagine that something dark and ugly was attached to his palms, that he was dragging it upward, something that had been inside him all this time.

  “Now we’re going to push that pain all the way up to the top of your head and release it, letting it leave your body.” His hot palms pushed up over Brent’s temples to the crown of his head where he opened his hands. He repeated this over and over—moving his hands from Brent’s belly to his crown, pushing up wave after wave of dark emotion.

  Brent just laid there and cried. It was the idea that struck him so hard, the idea that his grief and anguish had gotten buried inside him, wrapped around his bowels where Kathy’s body had been riddled with all-too-real tumors…. He’d heard of men experiencing phantom twinges while their wives were pregnant, but… God. Kathy. Her poor body. Her poor, beautiful body.

  He cried and cried until he was a mess of snot and heat.

  At last, River removed his hands. Brent sensed him moving off. He returned and placed something in Brent’s hand. Tissues. Brent cleaned up his face, too exhausted to even feel self-conscious. Then River helped him sit up using a strong arm behind his back. He handed him a bottle of water and urged Brent to sip from it.

  When he was steadier, River sat next to him on the futon, one arm still supporting Brent. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” Brent half laughed. “Jesus, that was intense.”

  River nodded. “You released a lot of pain today.”

  Brent thought maybe he had. Though whether that was all of it or whether it would turn out to be an endless well inside him, like some kind of emotional ouroboros, he didn’t know.

  Except… he already felt a little lighter. There was an energy humming through him that was kind of good? He tried to joke. “That wasn’t the outcome I expected. Kind of the opposite of a happy ending.”

  River’s eyes grew amused. “We don’t always get the ending we want. But hopefully we get the ending we need.”

  “So profound.”

  “To be fair, I stole it from Mick Jagger. But I think he stole it from the vedas. So.”

  Brent chuckled. “Is nothing original anymore?”

  “Not much, no.”

  Brent smiled at River, and River smiled back. Something about the guy was so comforting, sort of light and chillax and just good juju. Brent had an urge to lean into him, to be held in River’s arms, to rest after what he’d just been through. But River didn’t offer that, and Brent wouldn’t presume. He was just a client—not besties, and not anything else either.

  “It might take a few sessions, but I think the energy work can help you release that pain.”

  “Do you think that’s what’s been holding me back? Sexually, I mean?”

  “Absolutely. The svadhishthana chakra is the seat of your emotions, your sensuality, and creativity. When it’s constricted or blocked, it absolutely messes with your sexuality.”

  “Oh.” Brent took another long swig of water from the bottle. “But it can get better?”

  “Yes. That’s what the tantra work is for.” River sounded matter-of-fact. “It’s important to release it for other reasons too. Holding grief in a part of the body like that, you can actually attract disease. In the same way that stress can cause heart disease or ulcers, a spiritual block can turn into a physical one. Tumors, for instance.”

  Holy shit. That didn’t sound good.

  River’s gaze was kind. “Don’t worry. You made a lot of progress already today. If you have the will to let it go, we can make it happen.”

  “Thank you,” Brent said sincerely.

  This time, it was River who looked away. “Tonight, try a hot bath and some more deep breathing. If you feel up to it, breathe into that chakra. Try to release the tension there, direct light and positive energy to that area. And if you want to continue with me, you can schedule an appointment through the clinic.”

  Brent kind of wanted to try again, right then. But their time was probably up. “I’ll book another appointment.”

  “Great. Then I’ll see you soon. Do you want to go wash your face while I get packed up in here?”

  Brent took his cue and left River alone to clean up.

  Chapter 3

  Brent

  “Hey, Mr. McKay!”

  A chorus of hellos greeted Brent when he entered Adrenaline Junkie Coffee on Madrona’s main drag. He wiped his face with his sweatshirt sleeve and smiled. “Hey, guys.”

  It had been, what, three weeks since he’d been in the place? Probably more like a month. Too long. His gaze swept the room assessingly. It was crowded at eight in the morning—as it should be. Dani, the manager, was at the register. A twenty-something woman, Lori or Laura, was making drinks. Beside her was a new redheaded barista Brent didn’t recognize.

  The storefront was clean, right down to the glossy checkerboard floor. The newspapers on the shelf by the door were today’s. From the looks of all the people on their laptops or phones, the Wi-Fi was working, and the short line at the counter moved swiftly.

  Brent slipped behind the register to grab a bottled water and avocado-egg wrap from the display case and held them up to catch Dani’s eye so she could make a note of it. He took them to a seat at the long bar along the window and pulled a newspaper closer.

  He didn’t read it though. He watched the people passing by—an older man doing a morning walk with the dogs, a fit young mom with an infant in a jogging stroller. Across the street, there were peek-a-boo views of Lake Washington. The sky was overcast and dull, but it wasn’t raining, and the air had a touch of warmth. For Seattle in March, he’d take it.

  He noticed his own reflection in the plate glass, and for a second, he didn’t recognize himself. He was smiling.

  He surreptitiously studied his reflection. He’d slept hard after yesterday’s session with River and woke up this morning feeling refreshed and with a restless energy. He’d decided to go for a run for the first time in ages. He’d only run two miles, and slowly, but it was still a win. He’d enjoyed it. The view of the water and the gorgeous houses on Madrona Beach Road, the feeling of his muscles being put to the test, the incandescent green of the trees and bushes at the park, even the overcast Seattle sky. The world seemed sharper, as if a dirty filter had been lifted from his eyes.

  He bit into his egg wrap. The tortilla was soft and the avocado and lettuce inside were fresh. The scrambled eggs had the right texture and flavor. Good. It pissed him off when staff let food sit around in the display case for too long.

  Dani plopped down on the seat next to him. “Hi, Mr. McKay.”

  Brent wiped his mouth with a napkin. “How’s it going, Dani?”

  “Good!” Dani was a little too animated, trying to impress him. She was in her early thirties, dark-haired and pudgy with a very pretty face that she wore completely au natural. She
had a degree in restaurant management from UW and was good at her job. Brent was fortunate to have her. “Did you get the report from Roscoe last week? Business has been pretty good, especially considering the new Starbucks down the block.”

  Brent nodded, not wanting to admit that he hadn’t looked over the report. And Starbucks… fuck. They’d be the death of him. He glanced around the room. “Decent traffic for a Friday morning.”

  “Oh, yeah! You should see it on the weekends. Even better.”

  Brent felt a pang of guilt at her words. He should see it on the weekends. He’d become too much of an absentee boss. But honestly, some days it was all he could do to get out of bed. And though he felt better this morning, the thought of how far behind he was threatened to put him right back there.

  “Is everything okay? I mean…” Dani fidgeted nervously. “Did you want to talk to me or something?”

  “Nope. I was just out for a run and thought I’d stop by.”

  Her smile was relieved. “Okay. Great! It’s nice to see you, Mr. McKay. Want me to get you a coffee?”

  “Sure.” He and Dani both said, “Oat milk venti latte with cinnamon,” simultaneously. He smiled. “You remembered.”

  She winked. “That’s my job. Sometimes I swear I have coffee orders etched on my brain.” She left him to go make his drink.

  Brent pulled out his phone and looked at the time. 8:10 a.m. He brought up his contact list. What time did Expanded Horizons open anyway?

  “Hey there, Brent.”

  Brent turned to see a familiar face. It took a moment for the name to come to him. “Chuck Cornish. How are you?”

  “Never better.” Chuck, a big guy in his fifties, grinned and held out a meaty hand. They shook. “I just happened to see you in the window. It’s been so long, had to come in and say hello.”

  Cornish had been a fixture at the Seattle Restaurant Alliance events Brent and Kathy used to attend. He was the type of high-voltage salesman Brent didn’t really care for. There was a lot of that in the hospitality business, but it wasn’t Brent’s style.

  “Can I get you a coffee?” Brent offered.

  “Oh, no thanks.” Cornish’s brow furrowed as he glanced over at the chalk menu board above the register. “I’ve had my coffee today. Just popped in to say hello. I’m opening up a place down the street. Jasmine Express. Asian fusion. My fifth one. Business has been hopping!”

  “That’s great, Chuck.”

  “Hell, the Seattle boom is making us all rich, huh? Of course, you can’t sit still in this city. Ideas fall out of fashion quicker than the latest version of Windows. Innovate or die, amiright?” He glanced again at the menu board and frowned. “Gee, the coffee business must be tough. Didn’t a new Starbucks just go in down the street?”

  Brent gritted his teeth. “Adrenaline Junkie Coffee was one of the first serious coffee chains in town. We have loyal customers.”

  “Right. Right. Great location too.” Cornish’s smile felt patronizing. “So have you been out of the country or what? Haven’t seen you and your wife at the Alliance dinners.”

  Brent’s hands clenched on the counter. “Kathy passed away two years ago. I haven’t been getting out much.”

  “Oh. Oh shit.” Cornish’s face reddened. “Sorry to hear that. She was a pretty lady. That’s a shame.” Cornish patted Brent shoulder awkwardly. “Well, uh, if there’s ever anything you need, my place will be just down the street. Jasmine Express. Glad to be neighbors.”

  “That’ll be great. Good luck with the new place.”

  “Thanks. Nice seeing ya, Brent.” Cornish made his escape.

  Innovate or die.

  Chuck freaking Cornish. What did he know? Probably not that Brent’s business revenue was down ten percent last year. And the year before that. Hardly surprising given how depressed he’d been. The Alliance wasn’t the only thing he’d dropped the ball on. Thank God he had solid managers like Dani, and that he did, indeed, have loyal customers.

  Still. A twinge of shame unsettled his gut. Guys like Chuck had been out there making deals while he’d been sleeping. It was time to get his shit together.

  His phone was still lit up on the counter, still open to his contacts list. Expanded Horizons Clinic. He pressed Send.

  “How did your session with River go?” Halloran asked the following afternoon.

  “Besides the fact that I ended up sobbing on the massage table and nothing remotely sexual happened? It went pretty well.” Brent chuckled self-deprecatingly.

  Halloran leaned forward. “Really? What brought up that emotion for you?”

  Brent told him all about it, about the pain and discomfort in his lower back and belly and River’s explanation that he held his grief there. “What do you think about that whole chakras thing? Do you think it can really help me?”

  “I absolutely believe the mind has a powerful effect on the body. And I think there are different ways of looking at the body-mind connection. Western science hasn’t done a great job of examining it, so other traditions are worth considering. It’s kind of like the blind men and the elephant parable. Do you remember that?”

  Brent thought about it. “You mean the one where a blind man feels the side of the elephant and says it’s like a wall, another feels its trunk and says it’s like a snake?”

  Halloran’s eyes twinkled. “Exactly. The idea of chakras is just one way of looking at the mind-body connection.” Halloran tapped his pen on the desk. He hesitated, then spoke. “I was in the military, and I was wounded. I had therapy for PTSD, and we did breathing work and a little reiki to release internalized trauma. I found it helpful. At the end of the day, what matters is whether or not it works. Did you find the experience beneficial?”

  Brent blew out a breath. “It’s probably one of the most powerful experiences I’ve ever had in my life. I wasn’t expecting anything like that, and then wham. I have no idea if it makes any logical sense, but it absolutely felt like some kind of… of blockage in my body. Like River found this cache of buried emotion. All of this stuff came up for me. And then afterward…. It was cathartic.” A giddy bubble rose in Brent’s chest at the memory. “River is amazing. He was thoughtful and gentle…. So professional. It’s like you can really feel the energy in his hands. Incredible. He’s got such a healing…” Light? Gift? Those sounded too cutesy. “… uh, way about him.”

  “I’ll consider that a glowing review then.” Halloran had a bemused expression, and Brent realized he was gushing a bit too much. “Would you like to book another session with River?”

  “I, um, already booked two more through Loretta. I’m seeing him next week.”

  Halloran refrained from looking smug as he wrote it on his calendar.

  Chapter 4

  Brent

  “Relax. Breathe into my hands.”

  Brent felt the silly smile on his face as he breathed in deeply and relaxed into the futon. It was only his third session with River, but already the smell of incense and oil, and the feel of River’s hands, blissed him out in no time. Pavlovian response. It felt so good to be touched. It felt good to feel good. God.

  And the staring into the eyes and deep breathing thing they did at the start? So incredibly intimate. Hell, Brent was a ball of putty before he even lay down.

  Last time, they’d worked almost exclusively on releasing pain and grief from Brent’s lower belly. It had been uncomfortable, and he’d felt sadness and despair rise up again, but not nearly as strong as the first time. Weirdly, he hadn’t even thought about trying to get an erection or getting off until after River had left. The healing seemed more important. And that was fine.

  It was honestly helping. He’d felt lighter and more energetic during the past week than he had for years. That was more valuable to him than sex.

  Brent expected more of the same in this third session. But as River massaged him, rubbing warm oil into his palms, which were surprisingly sensitive, and his arms, and up his shoulders, the touch felt more sensual, teasing. O
r maybe River’s technique hadn’t changed. Maybe Brent was just feeling it in a new way.

  When River ghosted fingertips across Brent’s shoulder blades and sank his fingers into Brent’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp, a wave of desire went through him. River continued to massage his scalp, then lightly touched Brent’s ears. Liquid heat pooled in his groin. His cock plumped against the futon.

  In the past when his body had started to get an erection, that nauseous tugging sensation in his belly wilted him in a hurry. But that didn’t happen. With a sudden thrill of nerves, Brent realized he was genuinely getting aroused. He forced himself to focus on his breathing, and on River’s hands, and not think about it, afraid his head would get in the way, and he’d lose this feeling.

  Maybe River sensed the shift, because he ghosted his fingertips over Brent’s ears again—God, when had they become an erogenous zone?—then down his neck in a teasing touch. He got more oil on his hands and rubbed up Brent’s spine with his thumbs, firmly, then followed with that ultra-light touch back down, nape to ass. Brent broke out in goosebumps.

  He breathed deeply and licked his lips. “I’m feeling… um….”

  “Awesome. Just focus on my touch and your breath. Let everything else go.”

  Brent did his best. The touch was nice. It was really fucking sexy, in fact. And his body was so relaxed. He wanted to push into the futon, nearly overcome with an urge to feel friction on his aroused dick for the first time in ages. Not moving was difficult.

  “Would you like to turn over?” River asked, removing his hands.

  Brent swallowed. God yes. And no. It was a little embarrassing. He put one hand on the towel on his ass and tried to keep himself covered as he turned and settled onto his back. He was tenting the towel a bit, but not as much as he’d expected. He closed his eyes, not able to look at River.

  River moved Brent’s feet a little farther apart, settling between his calves. His hands, warm with fresh oil, rubbed up both shins, ankle to knee, then his thighs, slowly, slowly, moving all the way up under the edge of the towel to the crease where his thighs met his torso. But then, somewhat disappointingly, they shifted up to his hips, then his ribs and over his nipples, slow and firm. He cupped Brent’s neck.