“Sure,” I say.
“Are you unhappy?” she asks with a placid smile.
That’s a strange thing to ask. Confused, I say, “No, I’m not unhappy. Why?”
“Then, why are you raining on other’s happiness?”
I steal a glance at Fable, who looks just as perplexed as I feel. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You should apologize for your negative energy,” she says to me, never raising her voice, never changing her tone. Just holding my gaze with an eerie serenity.
“I’m sorry?” I say, but I’m not. She’s freaking me out.
“Your negative vibe is affecting this whole block, Rachel,” she says, then sweeps her arm behind her to the window. Saturday traffic streams by—joggers and walkers and families happily heading to lunch, to yoga, to kombucha. But in here, I’m getting lectured for my…bad energy.
Fable clears her throat. “Excuse me. Who are you?”
“I’m Ava. And the negativity from this quadrant is so strong, I can feel it all the way up the street at my spa. I own Haven Spa.” Then she raises her hand, finding the chain at her throat, tugging it from her blouse, and revealing a rose-gold lotus pendant, similar to the one I sell, but not exactly the same.
I gasp.
No, please no, please don’t let this woman be who I think she is. “My husband bought me this for my birthday. From another store.”
The hair on my arms stands on end.
Apologies form on my tongue, but they’re so tangled, so messy I don’t even know where to start.
She’s the wife of the man who called me a stupid bitch in an online review.
But that’s not the worst thing.
She’s also been my secret benefactor, sending friends here to shop after their facials and hot-stone massages.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, feeling like a chastened child.
Ava presses her hands together and says, “I’ll be sending you healing energy, Rachel.” Then with a steadying breath, she lifts her face, resolute, like a warrior. “But I can’t, in good harmony with the universe, send my clients to you anymore.”
She turns and sails away into the San Francisco afternoon.
I twirl the book-shaped charm on my necklace and stare at the snow-covered cabin in the painting behind my therapist’s cushy chair. It’s homey and warm in here. The opposite of my barren heart.
It’s Monday morning, and I still haven’t recovered from Ava’s spot-on assessment of me two days ago. “The worst part is…I think she’s right,” I confess, slumping deeper into the welcoming couch.
Elena Alvarez is my therapist, and we started in-person sessions recently, but we’d been zooming while I was in Venice. When I’d learned the terrible truth of Edward’s secret life, secret girlfriend, and secret family, I’d been so devastated, so broken that I hadn’t known what to do. Elodie had swooped in and asked for an appointment on my behalf. “I’ve seen her over the years, and she’s helped me with some tough things. You can trust her,” Elodie said.
That sold me. I mean, I do have trust issues the size of Alaska.
“Is she right, Elena?” I ask.
Elena’s older than me by a couple of decades, with silver in her hair and passion in her voice that says she’s always listening. She misses nothing. “Do I think your negative energy is affecting her spa? God no. That’s ridiculous, and she’s the one responsible for her spa’s energy,” she says with an eye roll. “But obviously the encounter has stayed with you. So I think the more important question is this: is your outlook affecting your job and your life?”
I scoff. “Clearly.”
“So, how can you change that? What’s one thing you can do differently this week to change your attitude?”
“I take it the answer isn’t ‘indulge in more wine and sugar,’” I say with a wry grin. Or maybe it’s a hopeful one. Because that’d be a fabulous solution.
She smiles but shakes her head.
Elena waits for me to come to a real answer. What can I do this week to change? Because Ava the Queen of Serene was right. I need to do better. I need to interact with the world as well as I do with cool teens.
But how?
Well, tonight is Carter’s football game and I’m going, of course. Tomorrow is our platonic date.
Oh, I know, I know!
I’ll be a fucking ray of sunshine every time I see him. Including on our date. No crying, no talk about bad reviews, no more wallowing.
I’m about to say that, but something stops me. I’d have to divulge that I have a platonic date with Carter, and I don’t want to tell Elena that. It would raise more questions that currently lack answers.
So, I sidestep that part, just for now. “I’ll get Carter a mug,” I declare.
But Elena’s not the best for nothing. She doesn’t let clients dodge the hard stuff. “How will that help you change your attitude, Rachel?”
Dammit.
I stare at the painting till the snow gets a little blurry, but I keep a lock on the wildly inappropriate thoughts I’ve been having about Carter lately. I don’t want to give them voice. My fervent hope is that they’ll vanish if I double down on friendship.
And, well, if I stop getting off to fantasies of him doing bad things to me, that would probably help.
I tear my gaze away from the painting, meet my therapist’s warm light blue eyes, then answer truthfully. “It’ll help by focusing on others. By doing something nice for someone else. That could bring positive energy maybe to this one-foot radius,” I say, gesturing to me, then giving her a hopeful look, like did I get the right answer?
“Well, there you go,” Elena says proudly.
And look at that—I’ve aced the self-care pop quiz.
I am a new woman at the football game on Monday evening with Elodie. From our seats on the fifty-yard line, I holler like I’m entering a cheer competition in Texas.
As Carter flies downfield deep in the third quarter, chasing a long spiral, I shout till my throat is raw. “Go, go, go, go!”
When he closes in on the ball, he jumps for it, and with outstretched arms he catches it…on his fingertips.
“Yes! That’s how you do it!” I cry out.
Hauling it close, he spins out of bounds to dodge the coverage, and Elodie cheers with me. “Yes, eighty-eight!”
With the game play stopped, she turns to me, her bright eyes sparkling with questions. “Someone is extra excited tonight.”
“Well, did you see that play?”
“Yes, he has magic hands,” she says, but her eyes stay locked on mine. She’s a determined bumblebee. “Do you still want to ride his horse?”
“Shut up,” I say.
“Well, do you?”
“Elodie,” I chide.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I don’t answer her. On the field, the Renegades get back in the huddle, and I put all my positive energy into the game.
My brand-new vibe must be some kind of good luck charm because the good guys win.
After the game ends, Elodie and I make our way out of the stadium and find Carter outside the players’ entrance. He’s all relaxed and upbeat in his post-game suit as he shoots the breeze with Malik Hamlin, the team’s running back.