Andie hadn't eaten since early Saturday afternoon, but there was no breakfast or lunch on the Sunday menu. On the retreat they had kept her up late and woken her early, allowing her little more than seven hours of total sleep since Thursday. Rest, however, was not on Sunday's schedule either.
Felicia was her constant companion. Neither one of them left the unit. They spent hours together sitting on the floor, eyes closed and legs crossed. Felicia taught her several breathing exercises to help her relax and meditate. Every half hour or so she would ask Andie to join her in repeating three times aloud, "I am going to rise above and overcome my human desires and activities and transform my being into something more than physical." They had no other conversation. The goal was to channel Andie's thoughts and energy. Her thoughts were definitely focused, though all Andie could think was, What in the hell have I gotten myself into?
By late afternoon, sitting in the same posture had left her legs cramped and her knees on the verge of explosion. She had already passed the hunger stage when Felicia announced it was time to eat. They didn't have to leave the room. Felicia opened the door, and a tray with two camas cakes was waiting on the door step, seemingly on cue. Felicia took one and offered the other to Andie. She ate neither quickly nor slowly, matching Felicia bite for bite.
When they finished, Felicia again led her in the same chant, I am going to rise above and overcome...
Andie joined her. She could hear herself speaking but no longer felt her mouth moving. The light in the room suddenly gave way to a black buzzing. She felt dizzy and disoriented. In the background she heard Felicia's voice, but it was the very distant background. Andie focused, as if the words from Felicia's mouth were her life line back to reality, as if she could see herself climbing hand over hand from the dark, swirling hole.
Finally, the dizziness passed. She was shaking but coherent. Her eyes opened. Felicia was staring at her, checking her out. Andie could still feel the tingling in her fingertips. That was no ordinary camas cake.
Or had she simply experienced a breakthrough?
"It's time," said Felicia.
"For what?"
"Your meeting with Steven Blechman."
"One on one?"
"Yes."
"Oh, my gosh. Am I ready?"
"Yes."
"I'm so nervous."
"Don't be," said Felicia. "The first meeting is the same for everyone."
"What happens?"
"He just gives you a lie-detector test."
Andie rose, feigning eagerness, hiding her true feelings. Now what do I do?
Chapter Fifty-Four.
Gus had waited outside Mrs. Bore's house for only ninety seconds before realizing he didn't need a stalking charge piled upon his alleged spouse abuse. She had told him to get lost and seemed to have meant it. A failure, he drove away reluctantly to think through his options.
Once home, it was immediately obvious that he wasn't the only one haunted by the fact that this Sunday afternoon marked two weeks since Beth had dropped off Morgan for tumbling class and disappeared. Gus needed to get his daughter out of the house. The Sonics were in town, and Gus had season tickets that he routinely gave away to clients and rarely used for himself. Morgan was more into soccer than basketball, but it turned out to be a pretty effective way of keeping her focused on something other than Beth. The same could not be said for Gus. His mind was barely on the game.
It ended with a Sonics victory, which left the fans in an upbeat mood on the way out of the stadium. Gus carried Morgan through the heavy foot traffic, but she wanted to walk once they got outside. He led her by the hand as they flowed with a thousand others to the parking garage across the street.
"That was fun, Daddy."
"Yeah. We'll do it again soon."
Their car was just ahead. No sooner had these words left his lips than he noticed the ticket on his windshield. He swallowed several bad words in Morgan's presence, wondering what horrible offense the traffic gestapo had nailed him for. Parking too close to the line? Forgetting to straighten his wheels? Failing to run over the visiting team's fans?
He put Morgan in the backseat and checked his prize beneath the wiper. It wasn't a ticket at all. It was a note, much like the pizza flyers and other junk he'd often discarded without even reading. This one, however, caught his attention. His name was written on the outside. He opened it and froze. *
Stay away from Meredith Borge. Or I end up like her daughter.
Icicles ran up his spine. He scanned the garage instinctively, as if whoever had placed it there might actually be stupid enough to hang around and watch him read it. He saw only happy Sonics fans on their way to their cars. Carefully, he placed the note in his jacket and got in the car.
"What was that, Daddy?"
"What was what?"
"That thing on our windshield."
He had to gather his wits to answer, still shaken. "It was . . . just nothing, really."
"Why did you keep it?"
"Because there's no garbage can. I'll throw it out when we get home."
"Can we stop for ice cream on the way?"