by Anna Cove
"Let's begin with a grounding exercise," Erika said as we stopped at a large bend. "Plant your feet hip-width apart and tilt your face to the sky."
I did as she said, but only because she was watching all of us and I didn't want to be caught out so early in the tour. Caught out doing what, I wasn't sure. My plan was flimsy at best. I'd only gotten so far as to scope out the town and come here, and then I thought I'd go with it. So far it hadn't made itself known.
"Feel the breeze on your face, the sunlight too, if you're standing in a beam of it. Relax your shoulders and take in a deep breath."
I had to bite my cheek to keep a laugh inside. How was everyone remaining serious? I squinted one eye open. They were all doing what she said. She remained still through it, serenely watching us.
"The air you breathe in is thanks to the trees around you. Let out your breath as far as it will go. The carbon dioxide you breathe out is oxygen to the trees. Imagine the symbiotic exchange of—"
A squeak of a laugh escaped my body.
"Air," Erika said, frowning in my direction.
My body shuddered with laughter. What kind of hippie bullshit was this?
Erika started to move toward me, silent as she picked her way through the leaves. I put up a hand as I held my side, cramping with the force of my laughter. Then I gathered myself together and put a finger to my lips, nodding. Bad Jada.
Baaad Jada.
After a few more moments of everyone pretending they were trees, Erika's voice lifted. "Okay, now, walk to your closest neighboring tree and find a leaf. Got it? Okay. Hold the leaf in your palm and exhale onto the leaf, giving your carbon dioxide to—"
The laugh cracked through me and I doubled over, tearing the leaf with me. The fly decided to pick that moment to land on my shoulder and I danced away, swatting at it. This display earned me glares from my fellow attendees.
"Jada—do you need to excuse yourself?"
I straightened, instantly serious. Erika's tone hadn't been sharp, but empathetic, and her empathy cut like a ruler to the knuckles. "No, I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me today. I'll behave."
Erika paused for a moment, looking like she was going to say something before continuing. After my outburst, I decided it probably wouldn't be a great idea to try to listen to what she said. The key was getting to know her, and I had already learned a lot just by showing up here.
As the group returned to planting themselves in the ground like trees, I went over what I knew about her based on my research and observation skills.
Her name was Erika Jones, twenty-eight. Father was ill. Mother had left and married some other dude. Not clear if she was in Erika's life. Erika dropped out of college after her second year, no disciplinary action and her grades were good, so I wasn't sure what went on there. Liked yoga, self-help podcasts, long walks in the woods. Pretty. Gullible as hell. And I was pretty sure she liked women—based on how she had looked at me at the conference and how she had blushed in the parking lot today.
Know thy enemy, right?
Right. But I felt like I would need more than this to win. She was too sweet, too good at this. I mean, all these people were here, and she had instantly connected them to the woods. They trusted her. They liked her. I'm sure the committee would see that, too, and likability went a long way. I didn't have that going for me. I was more punchy. Impulsive.
As we strolled through the forest, I performed the movements while keeping my critical mind open.
What would make anyone think this was therapy? It was flimsy. Bullshit. And going through the tour myself only made me see the holes in it. We ended the tour a brutal three hours after starting and I hung around my car until the rest of the people left. Erika waved goodbye to them all and doled out smiles from her endless well of smiles and I found my mood souring.
"You didn't get anything out of that, did you?" she asked.
I widened my eyes in surprise, then remembered how much of a disturbance I'd been. Of course she knew what I was thinking. "I guess it just wasn't for me."
"Forest bathing is for everyone, but you were distracted. What's on your mind?"
Why was she of all people asking me this? She should know what was on my mind. And why wasn't she intimidated by my presence? Sure, her cheeks were pinking as we stood close to one another, but she didn't seem to shy away from me.
"Mushrooms," I said. Why? I wasn't sure. It was the first thing that came to mind.
"Mushrooms?"
"Yes."
"The kind you eat?"
"The Mario kind."
"What?" Erika said, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth. "You say the most random things sometimes."
"My mind is a random place."
"I like it."
I glanced at her. She hadn't said that ironically. Not one bit. She really meant it. "You sure are something else."
Erika smiled and lifted her eyes to the sky, a gesture that was more thanks than sardonic irony. Maybe I'd been in the city for too long, but it was just another item in a long line of items that made her seem ridiculous to me.
"I'm actually glad you're here. You know how I was nominated for the Calver, right?" she asked.
"Right."
"I still can't believe it. It's like I'm in a dream. I wanted to ask you... do you know this Doctor Luisa Garcia woman?"
With every fiber in my body I fought the urge to clap a hand to my mouth. She didn't know who I was. Her reactions made more sense now. She didn't run in the usual mental health circles, and I had given her the name my friends and family used when she'd asked. "Yes, I do have the pleasure of knowing her."
"What is she like?"
"She's..." How to describe myself? "Hardworking."
That was true.
"Do you know what she does? What project she used for the award application?"
"I think it was something about helping young Latina girls find their place in the world? Something like that... I can't remember exactly."
Erika nodded, her eyes wide. I'd thought them brown when I'd seen them the other night, but here they looked green-tinged like moss on a pine tree. The spatter of freckles over her nose made her look younger than she was. She was cute. And I had her right where I wanted her.
"Hey, would you be open to some advice?" I asked.
"Yes, of course, please, tell me whatever you can."
I turned to her, mirroring her posture as I leaned against the car. "Here's the thing. This award has mostly gone to city psychologists."
"Like you—"
"And Luisa Garcia. Right. There are going to be some people who think she deserves it more than you."
"Because she has a degree."
"Exactly."
Erika sighed, her shoulders falling. She was so wholesome. Everything she felt ended up on her face, and unlike me, she never tried to cover it up. She looked up at me with those eyes. "Do you think I even have a chance?"
I sucked in air through my teeth and tilted by head back and forth. "It'll be a hard sell."
"Oh," her face fell, and she shrugged again.
"I can help you," I blurted.
She was the type of person who believed in the universe giving her what she needed and all that bullshit. Good thing I was the type who believed in bending the universe to my will. The committee might be leaning toward Erika, but perhaps if I gave her some choice advice, I could make them lean toward me.
"Really? I don't want to be presumptuous..."
"No, it's okay. I want to. I think what you do is truly special," I said, digging my fingernails into my palm to stop from reacting. "And I think you deserve a chance. So, what do you say?"
"You and Luisa Garcia aren't friends?"
"Not exactly," I said wryly.
"Okay," she said. "All right. Let's do this."
In that moment the information I gathered coalesced into the most brilliant idea I'd had in a long time. "What do you say we have dinner?"
"Dinner?" Erika frowned.
&n
bsp; "Yes. My treat. Meet me at Lucille's at seven tomorrow night."
"You know Lucille's? I mean... you're from the city... so I don't expect you to know the area." A pink blush backed those adorable freckles.
"Of course I know Lucille's." I hadn't before that day, but preparation had never let me down before, and it was never a bad idea to know the restaurants in town.
She shrugged, smiling broadly. "It's a date."
It sure was.
CHAPTER FIVE
ERIKA
I would never take for granted the beauty of the area where I lived—and I would never trade it for anything else. When I was away, I felt sleepy, less capable, off balance. Here, I was like a tree planted in the earth. Stable. Plus, you just didn't find beauty like that of the Catskills in September in many other places.
Lucille's was an upscale cafe halfway up Flicker Mountain, with a view stretching for miles. I'd never been, as one could easily blow a week's paycheck on a night-time dinner and barely come out feeling satisfied, but if Jada was treating me, I was all for it.
I tried not to worry much about how odd this all was, or about leaving Dad at home for a couple hours. I tried to consider my luck in meeting Jada—in her inviting me out to dinner. It was the last thing I expected from her after she was downright distracted during my tour. But she had indeed invited me, and I was determined to both enjoy myself and learn as much as I could.
My beat-up Chevy looked like a stranger among the parked cars, and I didn't look much better among the people. I had two dresses. I'd worn the other one to the NYMHO conference, so I had to choose the one that was too tight. My hair wouldn't cooperate either, little wisps of curls twirling out of my smoothed braid, framing my face. It made me look like I was twelve. Or, with the tube dress, a twelve-year-old trying to look sixteen but failing.
But all those thoughts vanished the moment I laid eyes on Jada.
Among the packed house, she stuck out. She wore slacks and a blouse, a deceptively simple ensemble, but it made her red lips pop and her curves just—wow. They were as spectacular as the Catskills. I stood at the door for a moment, taking her in before she saw me. I could look, right? No harm in that?
"Can I help you?" the hostess asked.
"I see my friend at the bar. I'll just pop right on over to see her."
"Of course, be my guest." She smiled, but I didn't even really notice her smile because I was staring at Jada. And so was half the restaurant.
How did she do it? Was it those huge eyes of hers? Or her aristocratic nose? Or perhaps the cut of her chin? I couldn't decide, but by the time I had reached her I'd cataloged half her body.
"Hey, there you are." She swung toward me, surprising me with open arms and a squeeze like we were best friends.
My face flamed, no doubt as red as her lipstick.
She seemed to enjoy my squirming as I climbed up onto the stool.
"I swear these things were made for giants. Once you get me up, you can't get me down. You don't mind eating at the bar, do you?" she asked.
"Sure. Why not?" It didn't matter to me. Lucille's was Lucille's and I would eat on the stoop if they gave me a discount.
"Want something to drink?"
I slid my gaze over to an amber-colored liquid in a martini glass in front of her. "Uhhh... I'll have whatever you're having."
"You got it." With a single raised finger, two bartenders flocked to her. She gave a little laugh. "A Manhattan for my friend, please. And a glass of wine for me. Do you want a glass of wine, too?"
"No, thanks, I don't drink that often, so I'll start with the Manhattan and see what happens from there."
"You mean what hattans from there."
"Har, har," I said. "Did you already have a couple of those?"
"Oh, no. I have a rule. One Manhattan only. I get sloppy after that. I'm just happy to see you here."
"Why? Because you thought I would stand you up? I would never do that."
"Oh, I know you wouldn't Flower Power. Oh—" Jada clapped a hand to her mouth. "Did I say that out loud?"
I shook my head. "You are incorrigible."
"That I am," she said with an emphatic nod. "Good word choice. Now. Tell me a bit about the great Erika Jones, and I'll figure out a plan for you to take over the world."
She spoke as if a piece of herself had broken free, had unraveled a bit from the tight hold she'd kept on it when I'd met her before. I mean, the moment I'd met her she had talked about potatoes, but she'd reeled herself back in after that. She had been almost cold during the tour when she wasn't belligerent. Perhaps it was the ambiance of the bar, but she seemed lighter. I liked it.
"Well, how about we figure out how to win this award first?" I nodded my appreciation as the bartender slid me a drink.
"Then world domination."
"Right. So, I'm an only child. My mom left when I was little. I still live with my Dad to take care of him."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
My face, which had just begun to cool, reheated with her question. "How is that relevant to the Calver?"
"You're going to have an interview, right? First step in that process—stay cool under pressure."
Cool. Yeah, right. My face would always betray what I was really feeling. But maybe she was right, maybe if I actually didn't feel embarrassed, it wouldn't show on my face. "Not at the moment. I was seeing someone..."
"A woman?"
I choked on the Manhattan. Both the drink and the question were stronger than I had anticipated. "Yes," I said, laughing. "A woman. Do you think that will hurt me?"
Jada drew her red lips into a pout. "Nope. It's good for diversity. I think it'll help you."
"Glad I could get one thing right."
"Apparently you've done lots of things right."
She didn't sound too happy about that and took a long swig of her drink after she said the words. I wasn't sure how to respond. The rest of the bar started to come into focus. It was packed with all types of people laughing and drinking. I'd never realized this place could be so busy. And it was full of people my age. Single people. Sexy people.
I must have been ovulating or something because I felt attracted to just about every woman around me. Including Jada. Especially Jada. "What do you recommend I do next?"
"You've got to lobby the committee." Jada leaned over, placing her hand on my bare knee.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
"They want to know you want the award."
"And—and—how do I do that?"
"Track them down by phone, email. Whatever it takes. Show them you want it."
Jada leaned far closer than was required, and I wasn't sure why her hand was still on my leg, but I wasn't going to say anything about it. It was as if she'd placed it there and forgotten. Like I was a table. Nothing I wasn't used to.
"It makes me a little uncomfortable..."
Jada's hand disappeared. "You're going to have to push out of your comfort zone, Flower Power. Enlist the help of the universe or whatever the hell you've got in your corner. You'll need it."
"If I'm meant to win this award—"
"No. Nope. No."
I took another sip of Manhattan, its warmth calming the butterflies in my stomach. I had only taken a few sips, but I was already starting to feel it in my head.
"You can't just let this happen. The people on the Calver committee are city people. They don't appreciate the laid back attitude of the boons. Trust me, I tried that with my business and it's not working all that well."
"Don't you find that a little problematic?"
"Hey, you and I could debate the merit of the concept all night long, but this is the game, and if you want to win, you need to play." Jada nodded, and finished off the bottom third of her Manhattan in one long swig. "Now, tell me more about yourself."
"Well, I went to school for—"
Jada waved a hand, catching mine mid-gesture. "No. Not all that boring bio stuff. Give me the real stuff. What makes you tick? Tell me ab
out your girlfriend."
"Really? You want to know about my last girlfriend?"
"Yep."
Oh, what the hell. The alcohol was making me feel brave. "She was a total bitch."
"Oh!" Jada said. "Flower Power swears!"
"Of course I do. Quite a bit, actually. It's a form of expression, isn't it? If it feels right, I do it."
Jada eased into a laugh as she fingered the stem of her glass, eying me. "You are surprising."
"Hardly. Anyway, she wrecked me. And I mean wrecked me. I worked at a bank for a little while."
"I didn't know that."
"Why would you? I haven't told you about that part of my life. Anyway, Meredith was a real shark. She messed up some figures on a loan, cost the bank a lot of money, and she threw me under the bus for it. Got me fired."
"And that was the end of your relationship."
"Not... exactly."
"Oh, please don't tell me you stayed with her." Jada gripped my wrist, leaning toward me. "Please, please tell me you activated your most horrific Flower Power Shower of Doom and sent her running with her devil tail between her legs."
"Not exactly."
"Oh." Jada threw back her head. "No. So she got away with it."
"It's worse than that." My face heated with shame.
"Please don't tell me you've slept with her recently."
"Last week."
"Woman! If I were you, I would have cut all ties with her immediately. She'd be dead to me. What were you thinking?"
"I'm not. She's so... hot... and when she texts me and I'm feeling... oh, my gosh, I can't believe I'm telling you this." It was the Manhattan or just the feeling of someone next to me who would actually listen.
"Please go on, I'm really enjoying myself."
"Well, at least one of us is." I took a big swig of my Manhattan, just as Jada had done, and forced it down my throat. I would need it to tell her what was next. "It's not exactly like I have a ton of choices out here in the boons, as you so lovingly call it. It's Meredith, or my fingers."
"Welcome to my world, sweetie."
"No. Impossible. You?"
"Very possible."
"I would have—" I clamped a hand over my mouth. "Oh my God, this alcohol is going to my head."
