California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances (30 page)

“Is there something else you think you should have done?”

“I should have given in. Then he would have stopped hurting my mother. I was a coward. I should have let him do what he wanted and gotten it over with. Maybe if I’d done that, my mother would be more normal now.”

“No, Annie. You did the right thing. Your mother wanted to protect you. Unfortunately, she wasn’t strong enough to leave, but she did the best she could. She’s probably buried the truth, not wanting to face it. Your father was the one who was wrong — not you or your mother. Can you believe that?”

“I’ve tried all my life to believe that.”

“What stops you?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s what we need to figure out. When’s your next body work appointment?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good. I want you to ask your healer to work on the root chakra. It’s at the base of your spine — she’ll know what it is. While she does that, I want you to think about what you’ve told me.”

“What good will that do?” Annie asked.

“We carry our memories in our cells. The root chakra is all about survival — your right to exist. Your memories are locked in your body, including the story that you’ve told yourself — that the abuse was your fault. Somehow you need to release that lie. We’ll have to try every method we have to help you let it go. When you do, I think your choices will become clearer. Are you still journaling?”

Annie groaned. “Yes. I suppose I need to continue that, too.”

“Yes, dear.” Carol chuckled.

They finished up the conversation and scheduled the next appointment.

She’d barely hung up when the phone rang again.

“How are you?” John asked when she answered.

“I’m okay,” Annie said. Her heart surged.

“That’s good,” John said. “Remember I said to save Friday night for me?”

“Yes.”

“I lucked into a couple of tickets for something I hope you’ll enjoy. I didn’t recognize the name, but maybe you will — Ellis Paul?”

“Really? You’ve never heard of Ellis Paul? And you have tickets?”

“I looked him up online — he doesn’t appear to get to Montana much, so I’ve never heard of him. And, yes, I have tickets for a concert in a winery by … ” Annie could hear papers rustling. “Swift Street. Will you come with me?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you! This is fantastic!”

“I’ll pick you up around six and we can get a quick bite to eat at the Cellar Door Café. Does that sound good?”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Got to go,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

She hung up the phone and wandered to the kitchen to make tea, a silly grin on her face. She felt like a schoolgirl going out on her first date. She had it bad.

The sharp aroma of lemon tea wafted around her as she went back to her home office. Beverly had been right. Telling the story about her father to Carol had made it better, not worse. Annie felt hopeful for the first time in a while. Maybe some of her childhood dreams
were
possible. If she could find a job where she didn’t have to invest so much of herself, maybe she could save some of her time and energy for her music.

With a sense of purpose, she began to look at the job banks online. While full-time jobs could be found in places like Cleveland, Ohio, they were scarce around San Jose. And the salary range of the Ohio jobs would never let her keep her house in Costanoa and she’d still have to move. Perhaps a consultant job was the best choice for now.

She found a few jobs that she might be a match for — temporarily managing projects at smaller firms. The pay was close to what she’d been making at JCN, but there weren’t any benefits. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Maybe it was time to ask Fred to cover David’s insurance.

She pulled up her resume and began to work on it, stopping only to have dinner with her son.

That night, she dreamt of her father pounding on her door, yelling to be let in. She forced herself awake, threw off her covers and went to the kitchen to brew some tea. Grabbing a pen and pad, she began to make notes about restarting her music career. The ideas came easily — songs to rememorize, venues to check out. Maybe she should build a website.

An hour later, she returned to bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. The next morning she sent off her resume to the two jobs she’d identified. A quick check of her work e-mail revealed only one new note — from her boss, Randy.

“I need you to come in on Monday. I’ve heard from Jim and there’re a few things we need to discuss about the job in New Jersey.”

Drat! The job was still a possibility. She needed to make a decision soon.

Annie sent a quick reply telling Randy that she’d be there Monday morning.

Before she left for her body work appointment, Annie recycled the box from the printer cartridges she’d ordered, cutting the tape that held it together with her jackknife before tossing the box in the blue recycling can. She thrust the knife in her jeans pocket, locked the door, and took off.

Sukesha was waiting for her when she arrived. Soothing music began to still the chatter in her brain.

“How are you today?” Sukesha asked.

“It’s good to be here — a lot going on.”

“Yes?”

Annie hesitated. “Things are changing. I’m not sure how exactly, or what’s going to happen, but it feels different.”

“Yes.” Sukesha was a woman of few words.

“My coach asked if you could work on my root chakra. I’m not sure what she expects, but I figured I’d ask. Is it something you do?”

“Yes.”

Sukesha led Annie back into the massage room. As she disrobed, Annie felt vulnerable, like she was a newborn experiencing life for the first time, not sure what was out there for her. She lay down on the massage table and covered up before Sukesha entered. Although she couldn’t see her, Annie heard the soft swish of the woman’s feet on the rattan mat.

“It’s good that you’re here,” Sukesha said as she splayed her hands on Annie’s back. “The work we’ll do today is deep work. Let it be whatever it wants to be.” She placed a tissue box on the floor where Annie could reach them as she lay face down on the table.
That’s not a good sign,
Annie thought.

“You’re safe,” Sukesha murmured. She pulled back the covers and began to massage the sides of Annie’s spine.

Annie let herself drift with the soft pressure of the woman’s hands. Sukesha was soothing — in fact the whole environment — pale yellow walls, melodic new age music and the soft scent of lavender — lulled her to that sweet place between awareness and sleep. Eyes closed, she could feel the energy move lower in her body, awakening the core of her sexuality.

With that energy, memories crept into her mind, recent ones first. She stirred thinking about the kiss she’d shared with John the last time they met. What would tonight bring? Was she ready to move beyond a kiss?

Absorbing the energy of the massage without awareness of the person giving it, Annie forgot Sukesha was in the room. There’d been a long dry spell before John. The few men she’d dated didn’t turn her on. She skipped over the misery that marked the end of her marriage with Fred, but recalled the tenderness and passion of the beginning.

He’d been tender with her, courting her with flowers, candles and romantic music. She was aware of his desire for her, his hands roving over her body, lighting her on fire.

She stirred on the table as memories of the early years of her relationship flooded her body. Energy swirled around her, feelings of joy and sorrow blending like the colors of light through a prism. Annie was unaware of the soft tears and her body’s deepening relaxation under Sukesha’s fingers.

All of a sudden,
he
was there in her mind. Her father’s eyes following her around, making her feel unclean. She’d shower two or three times a day, trying to rub off dirt she couldn’t even see. He’d remind her to keep her legs closed like a lady should, at the same time he stared at her growing breasts. She shuddered as she remembered her doorknob turning when he checked to see if she’d forgotten to lock him out.

Her tears turned to sobs. Sukesha continued to massage her, whispering, “It’s okay. Let it go. Release it.”

Annie cried until there was nothing left. Sukesha’s massage turned to comforting touches. The body worker covered her with warm blankets and stroked her hair, until Annie’s breathing returned to normal.

“Are you all right to be alone to get dressed?” Sukesha asked.

Unsure of her voice, Annie nodded. After the woman left the room, Annie lay there for a long while, tuning in to the sound of her own breathing. She was exhausted, but for the first time in her life, the anxiety that had always been with her was gone. It was as if someone had turned off a low frequency motor that she didn’t even know was annoying her.

She sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around her. The feeling of freedom persisted as she sat there, gathering the strength to get up.

Once dressed, she sat with Sukesha in the anteroom. “That was a powerful release,” the woman said. “You’ll need to take good care of yourself. Drink lots of water and walk outside. The beach would be good.” She smiled. “We’re lucky to live in such a beautiful place.”

She placed her hands on Annie’s and looked deeply into her eyes. “You’ll be all right, Annie Gerhard.”

Annie took the beach road home from Santa Cruz. Idly, she looked at the lazy boats in the harbor and the cars edging the beachfront. Seagulls soared and dove, doing loops that rivaled the best stunt pilot. She envied them their freedom.

Once home, she didn’t bother going inside after parking the car. A walk on the beach sounded good to her. She walked the few short blocks to the stairway from the cliff to the beach. She drifted, more than walked down the steps, noticing flowers she’d never seen before poking their luminescent faces from the foliage.

She kicked off her shoes at the edge of the boardwalk. Cool damp sand pebbles quickly covered her feet.

Avoiding the remains of beach fires and shards of plastic toys, she picked her way to the shoreline. She stood on the packed sand and waited. Water crashed around her, wetting her jeans to the knees. Yelling with the shock, she laughed at her own reaction. She’d never felt so alive.

A squawk alerted her to a seagull up the beach. She walked over to it. Strong wings beat for liftoff, but the bird stayed rooted to the sand, frantically cawing in fear, trapped in fishing line.

She studied the bird for a few minutes, trying to ignore its thrashing and calls. If only she had something to cut the fishing line. Her bulky sweatshirt would protect her. If she put the seagull under her arm … Annie searched through her pockets for something sharp and smiled when her fingers touched the jackknife from her recycling.

She made her move.

It wasn’t as easy as she’d imagined. The bird didn’t want to get tucked under her arm and used his beak mercilessly to let her know it. But Annie persevered, finally kneeling and straddling the gull to get to its feet. The bird continued its attack on her rear. Good thing she had extra padding there.

“Dammit! Cut that out! I’m only trying to help you!” she yelled. The sooner she cut the line, the better. Fortunately, the knife was sharp and the line had only wrapped around the left foot a few times.

“There!” she said, launching herself off the gull when it was freed. The bird looked at her and squawked its indignation before flapping its wings and soaring off over the bay.

She was covered with sand and gull bites. Her feet and legs were wet and cold. But as she watched the bird take flight, she knew part of her soul was flying with it.

Laughing, she picked herself up and brushed the sand from her clothes. She trudged back up to the boardwalk, washed her feet, and stuffed them into her socks and shoes. It was going to be a beautiful day.

When she’d arrived home from her walk on the beach, Annie went straight to the garage and retrieved her guitar. She wasn’t going to be able to support herself and David on the income of a singer-songwriter — at least not yet — but there was no reason she couldn’t start playing again. Looking at her watch, she was startled to realize how late it was. John would be here in less than an hour to pick her up.

She flew around her bedroom. When she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror, trying to imagine herself through John’s eyes.
Will he like me?

Her hair was unruly; there was no fix for that. She’d chosen an olive-green sweater to go with the jeans and sneakers John had recommended. Eye makeup highlighted the green of her eyes. Silver and jade earrings dangled from her ears. Okay. Not bad.

But will he want me?
The question rose unbidden from her mind.

Annie shook her head. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, even if he did.

The doorbell rang promptly at five. Annie took a deep breath and opened the door.

“You look wonderful,” John said kissing Annie lightly on the mouth.

The kiss was too brief; she wanted more.

“Here,” John said as he handed her a small box. “I thought you might like these. I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

“They’re perfect, John. I love Donnelly’s chocolates. Let me get my jacket.” She ran upstairs, dropped the box on a table, and grabbed her coat. “I’m ready.”

He let her precede him down the front steps. “The truck’s not the sleekest date-night vehicle, but it’s what I have,” he said.

“It’ll be fine, John.” She smiled, filled with happiness.

They chatted amicably as they made their way to the cluster of wineries on the outskirts of Santa Cruz. John found a parking place on the street and they walked past the converted warehouse space to the Bonny Doon winery and café in the back. Tall open doors led into a cavernous room where replicated redwood wine tanks dominated the decor. A hostess escorted them past the tanks to the sleek café in the back.

“Quite different from the last restaurant we went to,” John said.

“Yes, but I’ve never been here before and I like new experiences.”

“Me, too.” He grinned at her and she grinned back.

Once their order was placed — roasted chicken for him, small crab cakes and a green bean and peach salad for her — it seemed natural to hold hands across the table. John rubbed her hand with the inside of his thumb. Annie shivered.