Miss Fortune (10 page)

The truth was he had refused to do his homework. He had never bargained for homework when he signed up for marriage counseling, and it wasnt until a tearful Bonnie started to pack a bag that he gave in, sat down, and did it.

And as he predicted, things hadnt gone exactly well this morning. Bonnie was hardly speaking to him now, but he wondered what the hell she expected when that fucking therapist had given them their marital workbooks at the last session. Hed known instantly they were headed for disaster.

The first exercise was what Daniel called amazingly simple. Aaron was supposed to list three things about Bonnie that he loved, and how each thing made him feel, and then he was to list three things he did not love and how those things made him feel.

The first part had been easy. He loved her smiling laughter, loved the way she adored her children, and the way she worked so hard to make their marriage work. Bonnie had, naturally, beamed like a ray of sunshine as he had listed those things, along with how they made him feel. Happy. Content. Loved.

And then there were the three things he did not love. He listed: her obsession with her looks, harping on him, and snoring. The snoring wasnt even realhed just thrown it in there because he couldnt think of anything else, and thought it was so innocuous that Bonnie would gloss right over it.

Bonnie did not gloss right over it. Bonnie didnt gloss over anything, except the obsession with her looks, which was the one thing he thought would make her really mad. But oh no, she and Daniel agreed that it was a womans curse in life, which left plenty of room for Bonnie to get mad about the harping and the snoring.

After Daniel had Bonnie reveal and relate (this dude loved making up catchphrases) her feelings about Aarons list (and what the hell was the point, again?), it was Bonnies turn to list the three things she loved about him : generous spirit (not that he really had one, but hed take it), his fierce love of his daughters (damn straight), and the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed (actually, he thought they were lines from chemo, but he didnt have the heart to tell her). The things she did not love about him were: his illness (that was so safe to list that Aaron almost cried foul and accused her of cheating), his moments of self-pity (well, okay, he hated them, too), and the fact that he could not seem to understand her (it wasnt like he didnt try!).

And now, here they sat, side by side in his Lincoln town car, stuck in crosstown traffic on the way to Presbyterian Hospital, where hed undergo his umpteenth round of chemo. Neither of them had said a word since they left the therapists office. Aaron was too afraid. Bonnie was too mad.

But as they turned onto Madison Avenue, she sighed, tapped her hand against the window. I only harped on you about calling Rachel.

But even when I called Rachel, it still wasnt enough for you, he said, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

Thats rightbecause you left her your typical message, that shed better be doing things your*way, or there would be hell to pay. What happened to nice, Aaron? What happened to trying a new approach with her?

All right, so he hadnt exactly been eloquent in his message. But hed been really sick that day.

I know you were feeling really sick that day, so I cant help wonder why youd choose that time to call her. Its like you wanted to be in the worst possible frame of mind.

Wow. Preemptive strike. A good preemptive strike. I dont know, he said. I never feel good anymore, so Im not sure when a good time would be.

here you go with the self-pity defense, she said irritably.

And here you go harping again, he said. Wasnt that the whole point of todays session? Try not to push each others buttons?

Im not harping , Aaron. I am just trying to get you to hear me. If you want to get through to Rachel, try being nice instead of being an ass.

Aaron leaned his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes, wondered if he even had it in him anymore to be nice or if theyd zapped that along with the cancer cells.

And there is one other thingI do not snore.

Oh Bonnie, he sighed, Of course you dont snore!

Then why the hell did you say I did?

I just needed something, to say, thats all.

Oh thats just great! God, Aaron, this will never work if you dont take it seriously!

It wasnt going to work if he pitched headfirst off the top of Presbyterian Hospital, either, he thought petulantly, and crossing his arms over his chest, he glared out the window for the rest of the drive.

Subject Whats going on?

From: Rebecca Parrish lt; [email protected] gt;

To: Rach lt; [email protected] gt;

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Hi Rachel. I hadnt heard from you in a while, and Mom said you and Dad had a fight and you havent talked to him since then. Is everything okay? Dont let him get to you, because he really is just a dumb lamb in sheeps clothing for the most part.

BTW, I,got an e-mail from Robbie, and she said that you said that your relationship with Myron was strictly platonic? Is that TRUE? I didnt know that! Why didnt I know that? I demand details! Rebecca

P.S. The herbs you sent for Graysons allergies worked GREAT. Can you get some more?

Subject Re: Whats going on? From: lt; earthangel(5)hotmail.com gt; To: lt;[email protected];

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Hey Bec. Glad Gray is doing better, and yes, I can get some more. Ill check my connection (ha ha haaaa). I will try and find a place in Texas that mixes this particular combination of herbs, tho. As for Dad, 1 dont know what he is other than a real asshole sometimes, but what else is new. Most of the time, we get along. But there are times he can realty piss me off.

As for Myron, I did so tell you and Robin that it was getting to a platonic state that night we were drinking tequila at the ranch!!!! Why cant yall EVER remember anything I say???? But I dont want to talk about it, because there is nothing to talk about. We had a thing. Now were friends. End of really very boring story, gotta run. Say hi to Matt and Gray for me!

Rachel who, BTW, met a guy. Sort of. Actually Dagne and I used a little witchcraft to conjure him up, but he is SOOO cute! More later

Rachel had a ton of stuff to do the next day, so of course it would be raining.

Her first stop was Turbo Temps, where the employment agency had sent her. With a little luckand okay, a little magicRachel hoped to get some sort of part-time gig. She pulled into a parking spot, found her umbrella, then opened the door, wrestling with the umbrella and the door while she tried to squeeze between her Bug and the SUV next to her, but stepped into a puddle in the course of it and flooded her boot.

Clutching a soggy referral sheet, she reached the inside of Turbo Temps, where a woman immediately barked at her to put her umbrella in the can. She did that, and then squished back to the counter and handed the woman her referral sheet.

The woman took it, grimacing, and made a huge show of straightening it out.

Im really sorry, Rachel said. Its raining out.

The woman looked up at her like she didnt believe her, then reviewed the referral sheet, the copy of Rachels resume attached to it, and without a word, turned and punched a couple of buttons on her computer. An old dot-matrix printer began rattling behind her, during which time she stared at the computer screen. When the thing finally stopped printing, she swiveled around, extracted it from the printer, and handed it to Rachel. Call before showing up, she said.

Rachel took the paper and looked at it. Baumgartner Medical , it read under the word Client. Transcribing medical transcripts from draft to final form. Requirements: Typing, 50 wpms, use of computer and word-processing software .

Rachel glanced up at the clerk. She was staring intently at her computer screen, but said, Thats all we have today. Baumgartner will give you a paper to bring back here for payment. If you want to get paid, dont leave the job without getting that paper. And make sure someone signs it!

The only good thing about her visit to Turbo Temps was that when she came out, the rain had let up a little. Rachel threw the papers into the backseat and headed over to Providence Fabrics. Because the cops had busted the coven (yes, her sense of humor was still intact) they hadnt done the sight spell. So Dagne, in a great show of faith, left her pink spell book with Rachel. Ive gotta do some stuff on eBay tomorrow, she said. Honestly, Dagne spent so much time on eBay that it was a wonder they hadnt given her an honorary page or something. Try it yourself! she had cheerfully urged Rachel.

Rachel had at first laughed it off, but the more she thought about it, the more she thought, why not? She was doing all the work anywayDagne just stood around handing her stuff to drink and then telling her what to re-cite. And besides, shed seen another weight-loss spell in there that she really wanted to try.

At the fabric store, she looked for the perfect swath of lavender. She figured it needed to be velvet or brocadesomething weighty and therefore, meaningful. And on the next to the last aisle, she found what she was looking for. It was silk chenille and a beautiful shade of lavender. It was very expensive, too so Rachel didnt even look at her credit card as she handed it to the clerk. Cant see it, cant feel it.

A quarter of an hour later, she left the store with three yards of the silk chenille and enough lavender silk fringe to trim it. She figured she had enough to not only cast a spell, but to make a shawl, too.

From there, Rachel headed for campus and the Brown University Library, where she spent the remainder of that soggy afternoon holed up at a desk with several books around her, working on dissertation theories.

Darkness had fallen when she returned home. There was a note from Dagne stuck in her door Came by to pick up some stuff and Rachel panicked for a moment, thinking stuff equaled the spell book. But it was exactly where shed left it, on the kitchen bar, a couple of pages dog-eared. So she made herself a box of macaroni and cheese (not exactly healthy, but she really didnt have much else, as it was obvious Myron had been by, too), then wandered into the living room, flicked on the TV, and then promptly got up and left it on, off to find her Pilates book.

She returned to the living room a little later dressed in yoga clothes, her hair knotted into what Dagne called her Mickey Mouse looktwo knots atop her headand her yoga mat. And while Korean TV played in the backgroundsome sort of variety show with Asian subtitles (the need for which fascinated her)she worked through her Pilates book until her muscles screamed at her.

Now she was ready for a few spells.

Dagne said atmosphere was very important, so she wandered around her house and gathered up all the candles she could find.

Once she had the candles lit and placed around the room to create the right atmosphere, she flipped off Korean TV, opened the spell book to one of the pages she had marked, took the lavender silk chenille and Dagnes magic amulet, and placed them together. And then she rounded up a saucer, a pair of scissors, and some matches.

She read the spell several times, thought if Grandma knew what she was doing, shed have a double coronary on the spot.

But she was, she knew, attracted to this guy big time, and she supposed she was willing to walk the extra mile albeit an extremely bizarre mile.

And in fact, the whole thing was so stupid to the intellectual side of her that she read the spell once more, wondered if the position of the moon or whatever really mattered like the spell book said, remembered all the things Dagne told her she had to do, and at last stood, let her hair down (atmosphere), draped the length of chenille on the floor, and cut an inch across the bottom. She picked up the chenille from the floor and draped it around her shoulders. Then she took a match, lit it, and held it to the piece of chenille shed cut. When it caught fire, she dropped it into the saucer, held the saucer up before her, and said solemnly, From these ashes smoke will rise, and lift my color to his eyes.

She put the saucer down, picked up the amulet, and began to swing it above the saucer as she walked in a circle. The color of me shall my true love see, she said, her voice rising and falling like she had heard on the WBs Charmed , and instantly know his desire for me.

She paused there, watched the last of the chenille burn and tried not to wrinkle her nose, because it really stunk. Then circled again, chanting the same spell two more times. Once shed done three recitations, she put the amulet down, and as Dagne had instructed her, she stood above the burned fabric and waved her hands in a circular, witchy way, dissipating the smoke.

After a few moments of that, it was over.

Rachel stood, hands on hips, and stared down at the plate. Was it her, or were all these spells a little anticli-mactic? It would be cool if lightning would flash, or a clap of thunder would rattle her bungalow. But so far in her experience, there was only a mess to clean up.

She cleaned up this mess, then gathered up the spell book and moved to her bedroom, laid the spell book on her bed, and returned to the living room for her candles. She brought a half-dozen to the master bath, another half-dozen for her bedroom, then started running the water for her bath.. She undressed, added bubble bath, decided there wasnt enough light in the bathroom, and looked out the door, into her room for the miniature twin torcheres Myron had given her. How odd they werent in her room.

Rachel wrapped a bath sheet around her and did a quick search of her house for the torcheres, but still couldnt find them. She supposed she had put them upstairs in the guest room and shrugged it off. She had enough candles, and besides, her tub was filling.

She hurried back to her bath, turned off the water, and studied her last spell. This was the one for insurance, the shot at losing her butt, otherwise known as Ben and Jerry.

OUTSIDE, on Slater, the rain had deteriorated into a heavy mist and fog was rolling in. Parked outside her house, below the limbs of an old sycamore tree that badly needed trimming, Flynn watched the windows of Rachels little house.

Hed thought to go to the door to present himself, and was working on a plausible explanation, but he had noticed that Rachel was the sort to leave her blinds open, and there she was, lying on the floor, doing some sort of strange thing with her legs, while on the telly, images of singing Asians flashed across.