Page 97 of The Spirit of Love
“I’m listening.”
I take the phone from Masha. “Remember when we spoke at Liv’s dress fitting about erotic confluence?”
“You’re ready for me to tell you it’s a bunch of bologna?”
“Lorena,” Masha says, “we’re looking at some very unsettling footage Fenny put together, and we’re pretty sure—even though this is impossible—that the two men are actually one man, spanning some sort of ten-year time warp.”
Lorena is quiet, then lets out a low whistle.
“Okay, girls,” she finally says. “This is beyond my level of expertise. I’m more Brené Brown than Marianne Williamson. But recently I met someone who might be able to help. I’m sending you her contact info now. Maybe you know her? She’s a friend of a friend of Jake’s.”
Masha looks at me and shrugs.
“She works as a soul integration midwife, very highly reviewed,” Lorena says. “Her name is Tania.”
“Tania from the wedding?” I groan and palm my face. “She’s on the island right now.WithJude. They’retogether.”
“Are you sure?” Masha asks.
“We just had the most awkward run-in at the market. They’re definitely here. Definitely together.”
“It sounds to me, honey,” Lorena says, “as if a bigger storm is brewing. My two cents: Find him.”
“Which him?”
“The one you want. The one you were dancing with at the wedding.”
“Jude.”
“Find Jude. Tell him the truth—”
“That I think he’s two men, caught in a ten-year loop?” I say.
“No, honey,” Lorena says, straight up laughing at me. “Tell him how you feel. That’s the only truth there is.”
“Ew,” I sayto Masha, tossing aside the phone after we’ve hung up with Lorena.
Masha gives me a look. “The thought of telling Jude how you feel is ew?”
“It’s very uncomfortable. Telling Jude how I feel requires meknowinghow I feel.”
“That seems like a great place to start,” Masha leads.
I shake my head. “I know things by reading books, studying films, spending years apprenticing, or”—I point to my laptop—“having physical evidence.”
I close my eyes and remember the one time I knewsomething impossible, intuitively, with total certainty. Edie, in the hospital, when I was ten years old.
I think about Jude. And I do know. I want more of him. All kinds of more. But…
“Haven’t I mentioned,” I say to Masha, “that he is here with Tania?”
“Why do you assume it’s romantic between them?”
“Firewood. Honey. Wine. All signs point to kinky, sticky sex. And I’m back to ew.”
“Fenny, what if we entertain the possibility that you might be wrong?”
“Speak English please.”