“Right,” she grudgingly admitted. She sank down onto her elbow and stretched her long legs off the beanbag.
“But you did what you set out to do, to helpyou, to makeyourlife better. It is a giant step toward freeing yourself of this major roadblock.”
It wasn’t a roadblock, exactly. That implied she could get past it. This was more like a Go to Jail, Go Directly to Jail card.
“And two, if she wants to see you... isn’t that what you want? To make amends?”
“On paper,” Lorna said. “But in real life?” She winced. “I don’t know. It scares me.”
“What exactly do you fear?”
She thought that was obvious. “That she’ll hate me to my face, like everyone else.” She imagined the expression on Callie’s face, and it made her insides twist. What could be worse than the one person who had meant so much to her eyeing her with disdain? “She already hated me once. I don’t know if I could go through it again.”
“Because if she hated you, you would...?” Micah gestured for her to fill in the blank.
“Be heartbroken.”
“And?”
“And? Isn’t it enough to be heartbroken? How about die? Do you like that? I might die.”
“Youwouldn’tdie.”
“Not literally,” she said with a scoff. “But, you know.” In other words, she may not physically die, but she might as well. Sure, she hadn’t been friends with Callie since middle school. But Callie was just one of those people in life who, when you met them, you knew you’d be connected to for more than just a season. Their friendship was supposed to endure a lifetime. She’d only felt that a couple of times. With Callie. And with Kristen.
She would be truly devastated if Callie didn’t feel the same about her, and the chance of that being the case was quite high. It had been thirty years! It was wildly absurd to think there was any hope of a reunion after so much time had passed. But in a tiny way, even if there was no hope, that would also be freeing. To no longer have that what-if hanging over her head.
“It’s all out of your control, Lorna. The only thing you can control, the only thing that will free you, is your ability to rectify the wrong in a way that feels right to you. That’s your goal. Nothing else.”
That wasn’t entirely true. She could control everything from the comfort of her bomb shelter and had been doing so for a long time. She might be friendless in there, but at least she wasn’t hurting.
Micah seemed to be reading her mind. “Do you like living with the past?”
“Of course not.”
“There’s an old saying by a French philosopher that goes something like, ‘Whoever fears suffering is already suffering what he fears.’ In other words, the outcome can’t be any worse than you fear.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.
He smiled and eased himself down on his beanbag. “I feel hopeful. We’re getting somewhere.”
The door opened and Montreal stuck his head inside. “Ready for your sound bath, Lorna?”
She had almost forgotten about that. She’d never in her life heard of anything more froufrou. She was going to have a long list of comments for Deb about the company’s new wellness program when she was done here. That is, if she survived it, which was not a given. “I will never be ready for a sound bath, guys.”
“You will never know the benefit of different things if you don’t try,” Micah said cheerfully. “Just allow yourself to exist in the moment. Can you do that?” he asked as Lorna rolled onto her knees to get up from the beanbag.
Did this guy’s optimism ever fade, even for a moment? She stood up and straightened her shirt. “Highly doubtful, Micah.But I’ll do it if you will checksound bathoff so I can get back to work.”
He laughed. “Good work today, Lorna. Very good work.”
“I didn’t do anything but roll off your dumb beanbag,” she said, and followed Montreal.
He led her down a new hallway to another all-white, cavernous room where people were rolling out their mats and taking seats on them.
Lorna had this part down now and sat, legs crossed, reminding herself to exist in the moment as the class started. It was impossible to do at first—and she resisted it in the usual ways.Who is giggling? What’s so damn funny? Also, someone should really crack open a new bar of Irish Spring. What is that thing in the corner? Is it a spiderweb? ARE THERE SPIDERS?
The instructor asked them all to put themselves on their backs, shoulder blades flat against the floor, and to do a mental scan of their bodies, releasing any tension. “Begin with your toes. Your feet. Your ankles...,” she whispered melodiously.
