To catch a fox, p.23
To Catch a Fox, page 23
He paused to picture Aurora dying at the sunrise service. She would love the drama cementing her legend.
The glitch for Cassandra was that any successor Aurora groomed would not be Cassandra, whom she did despise. For Sebastiano, the plan would work with any appealing protégé. Among the hundreds who passed through the retreat, he and Aurora would find one on which they could agree.
“But does Julie want to stay?” Cassandra asked.
He’d be wise to stick with the mostly true. “She sounded interested.” She really had, to his surprise. “She’s not super-keen on her job back home, and her husband has custody of their daughter.”
Cassandra glanced toward Eric’s table. “Why?”
“No clue.”
“Makes you wonder what kind of person she is.” Cassandra ran her finger over her plate to dredge up the cheese that had dripped from her burger. “I can’t help thinking Julie’s presence means I’m out on my tail.”
“And a pretty tail it is.”
She licked the cheese from her finger. Not exactly elegant, but sensual. “What time do you have to get back?”
“Dinner’s in an hour. You leave here first. I’ll go around to the motel’s far side, where you can let me in.”
“I don’t like this sneaking around.”
“Sure you do.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Sneaking enhanced the kick, but more important was the particular outcome, his two women leading retreats on either side of the hill. Ideally, they would be Julie and Cassandra. Keeping Cassandra in town was worthwhile in case they found the opportunity. But if forced to choose, he would go for Julie. She was the one for the retreat. Aurora was right about that.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Every day is a new dawn, a chance to cast off the burdens of the past and pursue your dreams.”
From the top row of the amphitheatre, Julie studied her mother behind the podium. Aurora spoke in front of a sky that was evolving from indigo to pale yellows, pinks, and oranges. Everyone in the rows below seemed transfixed. So did Delilah, who sat beside Julie. What a change in Delilah these past few days.
“I wonder if I could live without meds here,” Delilah had mused.
Julie wondered too. Delilah had confided she was in love with Garth and that he’d said he loved her. Last week, Julie would have been skeptical; genuine love didn’t happen this fast. But at New Dawn, this seemed possible. She was far from in love with Sebastiano, though. Doubts about him kept tiptoeing in. He lies when he says I mean more to him than the others he’s slept with. He’s using me to implement his vision for the retreat.
On the lawn, Sebastiano stretched and lunged, warming up for tai chi. He had joked he’d initiated the sessions as an excuse to skip the sunrise service. “After three or four hundred times, it can get repetitive.”
Even though he didn’t completely buy into the message, he was able to work for it. Financially, Sebastiano and her mother were equal partners in the business, but he was lower in the hierarchy, and a male. They had founded the retreat as an alternative to mainstream society, he’d said—real change required female leadership. And conveniently allows him to have fun and avoid responsibility.
“…a clean slate…” Aurora said.
When her mother emoted to the crowd like this, Julie thought of her as Aurora. During their private talks, “Mother” was starting to feel normal.
“Go with whatever feels right,” Aurora had said.
Intellectually, Julie understood her mother’s reasons for leaving her. Staying with Brad would have dragged Marion down until she had nothing to offer a child or herself. For sure, Marion and Brad would have separated during Julie’s elementary school years. And her father’s and grandmother’s stubbornness and hostility toward Marion would have resulted in child-raising battles that might have scarred Julie as much as a mother’s departure. But even though her mind understood, she couldn’t let go of the pain. Replace “can’t” with “won’t.” That was what Aurora had told the group at yesterday’s session. You make the choice to cling to outmoded thoughts. Some of Eric’s Fox poems carried a similar message.
“It’s about the old stuff that controls you,” he’d explained to Julie about a poem he called “The Duchess.” The aristocrat with her fox stole lived a restricted life because she feared letting go of her archaic patterns.
This had felt like an accusation. Aurora’s message built hope. Everyone is capable of becoming whomever she or he wants. Julie wondered if that was possible for her.
“Life is an opportunity waiting to be grabbed,” Aurora said.
Another platitude Julie had heard before in a hundred variations. The guests in robes and tunics nodded in agreement, but how many would incorporate the message into their everyday lives? She supposed that even if only one or two did, that was something. The others would return home from a pleasant and memorable vacation, perhaps changed in a small way. Aurora was doing good work. Julie’s work produced a product that drove the economy, raped the earth, and possibly caused cancers and other ailments. Her father and colleagues insisted the benefits of oil and gas outweighed potential negatives. Julie used to agree. Or she’d tried to, to justify her work. Aurora had suggested Julie’s aversion to driving sprang from a subconscious rejection of gasoline. That seemed a little far-fetched.
“Remember when you were a child,” Aurora said at the podium. “Every day promised a new adventure. The child is still in you, trapped in your adult skin. Release the child.”
Aurora’s spiel was certainly no worse than oil-patch propaganda. Designing a new retreat across the hill was an opportunity for Julie. Her mother had brushed off her concerns about obtaining a green card to work in the US.
“Julie, decide first what you want, then deal with the obstacles. Too many people focus on them as an excuse to abandon their dreams.” She paused. “What are your dreams, Julie?”
Julie had shied away from answering. Compared to her mother’s dreams, Julie’s felt ordinary.
Love. She’d loved Eric once, and lost that connection. Her former excitement and warmth when she was with him were gone. Love didn’t seem possible with Sebastiano. Sooner or later his eye would stray. Don’t start with the obstacle. Choose the dream first. Did that mean risk loving him and find ways to keep his love?
A rewarding career. Developing a retreat would build her skills and provide a hands-on education with room and board, although no salary. But she didn’t need money here, and Aurora would surely say money was a shallow goal.
Finding her mother—a dream fulfilled. But her other family relationships could use improvement, and that was already happening with Delilah. This journey together had made them almost friends. And she might actually get along better with her father and Rosemary if she lived farther away from them.
The biggest dream of all: a true bond with Peyton. That was the dark hole. Shared custody in Calgary would give her more time with her daughter. If she stayed here, she would see Peyton only on holidays. And she couldn’t—that was, she wouldn’t—ask Eric for unsupervised custody until she was certain of her mental stability.
Before the retreat, medication and therapy had been her only possible treatments. Now, she’d gone three days without meds. Garth had told Delilah he was a mess in Chicago but living here had cured his crippling anxiety. Julie couldn’t believe that. Damn doubts. Delilah was already talking about staying here with him. That was too quick. Cast off the old attitudes.
“I keep hoping I’m pregnant” —Delilah’s next shocker. “It’s silly, I know, but we aren’t using protection.”
Julie had shuddered. Sebastiano’s condom broke their second night. While he respected her worry, he seemed take-it-or-leave-it about the pregnancy possibility. Would he one day want her to produce an heir, a combination of him and her to lead the retreat or be the sidekick counterpart? She had to cast off these suspicions or they would drive her to paranoia, worse than she’d experienced in the past with Eric. What did clinging to the tired Julie model give her? Not an error-free life. She had so blatantly, horribly erred.
Aurora raised her arms. “Welcome the new day.”
“Welcome” rippled through the amphitheatre from the rows below.
Beyond the oak tree, the sun peeked above the mountain, capped with snow despite the warmth of the valley.
Welcome, Mother. Welcome, Mom. Julie cringed saying it to herself, never mind aloud. She couldn’t say it. Or wouldn’t? Let go of archaic resentments. She chose to cling to them or not.
The bright ball rose behind Aurora. Julie leaned forward. How wonderful to have a mother in her life. A mother who understood her in ways no one ever had. In front of the glowing ball, Aurora’s silhouette raised her arms to Julie.
“Welcome, Mom.” Julie mouthed the words.
Love trickled down her throat and relaxed her stomach.
“Welcome, Mom,” she whispered. Love fanned to her fingers and toes, warmed her whole body.
“That was really inspiring,” Delilah said.
The spell broke. People shifted positions and spoke to their neighbours.
“Are you going to tai chi?” Delilah said. “I feel too lazy. Thought I’d get a book from the library.”
Julie tried but couldn’t recapture that moment of welcome love. Had it been a religious experience? The love hadn’t come from a god. It had emanated from her mother, who was now circled by guests.
“Your mom’s amazing,” Delilah said.
They padded down the stairs, Julie’s legs wobbly. A few guests were heading across the lawn to Sebastiano. Julie had planned to do tai chi, but it would feel like a distraction now. Aurora glided toward her. Aurora. Mother. Mom. A trinity. Aurora a goddess, three in one. Don’t be ridiculous. The goddess was mother, daughter, ghost. Get your head level. Was this a delusion? Abrupt withdrawal from her meds could cause them.
A few stragglers lingered in the amphitheatre, keeping their distance from Aurora, Julie, and Delilah. Another trinity. Mother, daughter, stepdaughter. New patterns, not archaic.
“How did you escape from everyone?” Julie asked her mother as they walked to the path. “I sensed they wanted to approach you.”
“You learn a few tricks. I make them feel my need to take a small break before breakfast.”
Mother, daughter and a third entity, about which Julie wasn’t sure. Was she developing schizophrenia, this connecting with her mother on three, constantly changing, levels?
“I’m doing your morning session,” Delilah told Aurora. “After lunch, I’ll drive to Santa Monica to pick up our things.”
“I’ll go with you,” Julie said. “It’s not fair that you do that long drive alone.”
“That’s thoughtful of you, Julie, but—” Aurora halted. “Who is that?”
A man and child approached from the parking lot. He held the girl’s hand as she skipped alongside. Julie froze. Peyton broke free of Eric and raced toward them.
“Mommy!”
Julie scooped her up. What were they doing here? Julie’s robe bunched around her child, who felt heavier than she remembered. Eric shambled up to them. His T-shirt and shorts looked strange, given her immersion in robes and tunics.
She squinted at his face, which was a pasty contrast to Sebastiano’s tan, and tried to remain cool. “What are you doing here?” It came out snarly.
“Daddy and I came to see you.” Peyton’s hands enclosed Julie’s neck.
Eric stared at Aurora.
Julie set Peyton down and took a deep breath. “Eric and Peyton,” she said. “Meet my mother.”
“My granddaughter.” Aurora squatted in front of Peyton, who retreated into Eric. “I want to get to know you,” she said. “But you are smart and right to be careful of strangers.”
“How did you know where I was?” Julie asked Eric.
“Julie, I wrote him,” Delilah said. “I meant to tell you.”
Julie stomped her foot. Delilah had no right. She’d promised to let Julie take the lead on telling their family, which included Eric. Why was Delilah contacting him anyway?
“Daddy and I are going to Disneyland and the beach,” Peyton said to Aurora.
“You lucky girl.” Aurora remained at the child’s eye level. She connected to everyone, regardless of age.
Peyton gazed up at Julie. “Daddy says you’ll come with us to LEGOLAND.”
“I only suggested you might be interested,” Eric said to Julie.
She glared. He’d obviously come here to meddle.
“Can we talk?” he asked her.
Aurora grabbed Julie’s wrist and pulled herself up, wincing. Her mother displayed so much energy in the amphitheatre that Julie kept forgetting she was almost sixty. Rosemary, around the same age, had back problems. Brad had high cholesterol. Odds were that her mother had a medical issue or two.
“I’ll take my granddaughter to the kitchen. We might find a treat.” Aurora fumbled for Peyton’s hand. “Have you had breakfast yet?”
“We ate at the motel,” Eric said.
The small hand secure, Aurora gazed down at Peyton. “I hope you’ll join us for a second breakfast. Today is French toast with strawberries from our garden.”
“Strawberries!” Peyton looked at Eric for permission.
Eric nodded. Julie continued glaring at him. Only an asshole would use a child to intrude this way. He could have left Peyton in Calgary and come to California on his own. Cowardly and manipulative.
“We’ll talk later,” Delilah said to Eric, and followed Aurora and Peyton into the building.
What was Delilah up to? Julie had thought they were friends.
“Does my father know you’re here?” Julie asked.
“He’s the one who urged me to come. From Delilah’s description, he thought the retreat sounded like a cult.” He scanned Julie from head to toe. “I can’t disagree, seeing you in this outfit.”
“It’s no more an outfit than your T-shirt and shorts. People wear clothes to fit the place they’re in.”
“This must be some weird place.” Eric’s lip twitched in mockery, his face a mask of resistance similar to hers before her mother’s love entered. If she tried to explain that to him, it would sound peculiar, even to her. Conversion, religious or otherwise, was faith beyond reason. Eric was mired in the rational, like she’d been.
“You have to be at New Dawn to understand,” she said.
“I am here. No way am I wearing a dress.”
She folded her arms.
“I was joking. Oh, there’s someone in normal clothes.”
Julie had missed seeing Garth, in the citrus on the hillside. Julie called him over and introduced him to Eric.
“Delilah’s Eric?” Garth said, and blinked several times.
Eric’s brow creased. Julie was equally puzzled. Delilah’s Eric?
“Did you write to Delilah first?” Julie asked.
“Only because you didn’t respond.”
Julie looked at Garth. “What did you mean by ‘Delilah’s Eric’?”
Garth held up his basket. “I’m late picking oranges for breakfast.” He scurried to the grove so fast he stumbled, but he managed to recover.
“Weird duck,” Eric said.
“Can you not be critical for one second?”
He pinched his lips together. Ugly. A schoolmarm. “Julie, I’m here to talk about you and this retreat.” He looked around—at the courtyard, the amphitheatre glimpsed through the cypress trees, Garth picking oranges.
“You are so judgmental,” Julie said. “I don’t know how I stood it before.”
“Can we stick to the point?”
“Which is?”
“Firstly, how long are you staying here?”
Julie opened her mouth to respond, but Delilah rushed from the main building. “Eric, Aurora had this idea, if you agree. Peyton says you’re on your way to a beach. Santa Monica has a great one. If you go there, you could stop at the apartment, pack up our things, and spend the night to save money on a hotel. Then you can take our things with you to Calgary. We don’t need them here.”
Eric’s lower lip dropped. “You two are actually staying?”
Delilah glanced at Julie. “We changed our flights home to Monday, so I’d have more time to figure things out with Garth.”
“The guy with the oranges?” Eric said.
Delilah brightened. “You’ve met him?”
“Garth said you told him about Eric,” Julie said.
Delilah froze. “What did he tell you?”
“Is there something to tell?” Julie looked from Delilah’s flushed face to Eric’s pale one. What the hell was going on?
“Oh, Julie, it’s over,” Delilah said. “It was stupid and silly and now I realize it didn’t mean anything.”
“What’s she talking about?” Julie asked Eric.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Unless she means staying over on Saturday night.” His face flushed.
“After the poetry reading,” Delilah said. “I told you I drove him home.”
Julie sucked in the citrusy air to expand her tight chest. “You didn’t add that you slept with him.”
“I didn’t.” Delilah’s face grew redder. Liars. “I’d had too much wine. Eric agreed I shouldn’t drive.” She looked at Eric. “Did you tell Garth about all that? Oh, Garth. Where is he?”
Eric motioned toward the orange grove. Up the hill, Garth moved between the trees.
“I have to talk to him, explain.” Delilah hurried away, into the grove.
“I wish she’d explain to me,” Eric said.
“It’s perfectly clear. You pick her up at your reading and then ply her with liquor to get her into bed.”
“That’s crazy,” Eric said. “Julie, she’s your sister.”
“Stepsister.”
“I didn’t plan anything,” he said. “We just had a few drinks.”
