The Last Phone Booth in Manhattan

“I still get confused. Who was friends with whom first?”

“Okay, let’s see,” Lyla said, chewing her bottom lip. “Oak and Sevyn went to The New School together, so they’ve been friends the longest. They’re the ones who originally found the apartment. I used to go out with Sevyn’s ex-best-friend’s cousin Toby, which is how we met. And as for Ass, before she decided to go the freelance route, she used to work with Oak’s ex-girlfriend.”

“Got it,” I said with a nod, even though I didn’t really get it at all. “Seeing as you’ve never mentioned Toby before and the fact that you’re going on a date later, I assume you two broke up?”

“Yeah, that ended a while ago. Now, I date mostly for fun, and between you and me”—she lowered her voice—“sometimes for the free meal or drinks. I’m not looking for anything serious. I have to put all my energy into my career. As you know, the struggle is real, the hours are insane, and the chances are slim. I used every single penny I had to move from my little corner of Decorah, Iowa, to get here, and I am not going back unless I am able to parade through the streets waving my Tony Award in my hands. Or a Grammy, I’m not picky,” she joked.

“I didn’t realize you were from Iowa? You seem like such a New Yorker.”

Lyla stopped dead in her tracks and put her hand over her heart. “Really? Thank you. I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten. You should’ve seen me when I first moved here. I was terrified of literally everything. The subway, the crowds, the sewer rats.”

I scrunched up my nose. “To be fair, everyone’s terrified of the sewer rats. They’re no joke. I saw one the other day the size of a Chihuahua. So, what’s this place we’re going to again?” I asked.

“Achy Reiki Heart. Oh my God, you’re going to love it. I swear, Miss Tilly is like one part Reiki master, one part hypnotist, one part masseuse, one part chiropractor, one part therapist, and one part total goddesssss.”

“That’s a lot of parts.”

“I know!” Lyla exclaimed. “It’s like a one-stop shop for your soul.”

“And you really think she can help me with my range?”

“Are you kidding? Everyone at Mimi’s swears by her, not to mention her Insta Stories are chock-full of the Broadway elite. Sutton Foster was there just last week, and Patti LuPone the week before that. Miss Tilly will get you hitting that high E above C again in no time.”

“Sutton Foster? Really? I mean, I guess if she’s good enough for Sutton, she’s good enough for me,” I joked.

“No, seriously, Avery, she’s the real deal. I went to see her last year when I was hit with a particularly wicked case of laryngitis before my callback for the national tour of Mean Girls. I mean, I didn’t get the part, buuuuut practically overnight, my voice was in top shape for that audition.”

“That sounds promising,” I said, hoping that the small threads of skepticism in my intonation weren’t detectable.

We walked through the shop door and climbed down a dark and narrow staircase until we were inside the studio space. Almost instantly, my nostrils were assaulted with the smell of burning incense so strong my eyes began to water. Colorful pillows were scattered around the room, and next to a large gold Chinese wind gong was a rock fountain that took up almost the entirety of the back wall.

Miss Tilly, a heavyset woman dressed in a flowery caftan who was twisted up like a pretzel doing some version of Lotus Pose, spotted us and sprang up from the floor. “Lyla, my sweetheart, perfect timing, I just finished my morning transcendental meditation session,” she said.

“You practice twice a day?” Lyla asked.

“Absolutely—morning and evening. It’s the only way to maximize its benefits—a more alert mind, increased energy, clearer thinking, not to mention a roaaarrrring libido.”

Lyla molded her hands into two claws. “Me-ow!”

Miss Tilly chuckled as she slipped on a silk robe. “Exactly. So, who’s your friend?” She motioned in my direction. “I don’t recognize this one.”

“A new roommate. Avery. She’s a singer too. She works with me at Mimi’s.”

Miss Tilly waved her hand around. “Say no more, you’ve come to the right place. So tell me, what’s been going on?”

I shifted my weight, unsure of how to start. “Well, my range isn’t what it used to be.”

“As I said, you came to the right place then. Miss Tilly’s gotchu covered,” she said.

Over the next few hours, Miss Tilly led me through a series of alternative and energetic medicine meditations, crystal and Tibetan sound therapy, Reiki sessions, and aromatherapy treatments. I wasn’t sure any of it was actually helping my voice, but I had to admit, I did feel significantly more relaxed than I had in months.

“You carry a lot of tension in your shoulders. Has anyone ever told you that?” Miss Tilly asked as she finished up my spine adjustment. “We’re just about done here. Let me go and grab your complimentary crystals from my office.”

Miss Tilly went into the back room, leaving Lyla and me alone in the studio.

“How do you feel?” Lyla whispered.

“I feel good, but is it odd that she didn’t have me sing a single note? How do I know any of it worked?”

Lyla pointed her finger in the air. “Oh, it worked. Trust, girl. Trust.”

“All right,” Miss Tilly said, clutching a small brown suede bag in her closed fist. “I have the most fantastic assortment for you.” She motioned for me to hold out my hands and gently shook a rainbow of crystals into my cupped palms. “The garnet kick-starts belief in personal power, the kunzite encourages forgiveness and helps ease emotion, and finally, the sapphire reaffirms purpose and direction. The amethyst reduces anxiety, helps reestablish boundaries and a sense of control, and most importantly, strengthens confidence and self-empowerment.”

I closed my fingers around the stones. “I need like literally all of these. How did you know?”

She lowered her voice. “If I’m being honest, you don’t need any of these. You possess all their powers inside yourself. The crystals are just a way to help you manifest them a little quicker.”

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