One Day Fiance

“Aleria, what are you doing? I don’t want my house smelling like patchouli-perfumed skunks!” I call out, but Jasmine puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Uh-uh. Daysha’s right. This place smells. Bad. And so do you.” I turn my attention to her, ready to say something snappy, but Jasmine has the decency to soften the critique with a caring question. “Are you doing okay?” she asks.

“Fine,” I tell her.

In the corner of my eye, I see Becca happily playing with Nut and Juice, who are always excited to have human attention. She might also be sneaking them treats, but I do know that I’ve fed them, even if I haven’t taken care of myself much the last few days.

“It’s been days. How’s the book coming?” Daysha asks.

Aleria comes back in, waving her smudge bundle, which smells woodsy and floral and not at all unpleasant. Still, I go over and open a window.

“I haven’t showered, I’ve barely eaten, and my dogs are getting cabin fever,” I admit. “But I’m pouring myself into these pages and making progress.”

“That’s good!” Becca says. “Tell Mommy ‘good job’, sweet boy.” She holds up Nut’s paw, high-fiving herself with it because he certainly doesn’t know any tricks.

“No, it’s not,” Jasmine says. “Look at her. No offense, babe, but I’d burn that T-shirt if possible.”

“She’s right,” Daysha says. “Go shower, let us make you some real food, and you can tell us what else is going on.”

I shake my head, my stubborn streak popping up. And I don’t smell that bad. I sniff my right armpit to prove my point. Okay, I smell. “No time, I have to finish.”

“You won’t be finishing shit if you kill yourself in the process,” Daysha says. “Now go. Becca, think you can take care of the pups?”

“Of course!” Becca cheers, in love with my dogs. She looks at Nut and Juice, who are staring up at her like she’s their new favorite person. “I’ll take care of these adorable babies. Who wants to go for a walkie-walk?” she says, baby talking to them.

“I’ll finish cleansing the house’s energy,” Aleria says. “After your shower, I’ll cleanse your aura too, and then you’ll truly have a fresh start.” She begins to walk around the room, chanting, “Release, renew, reside in respect.” And then her whispers become too quiet for me to hear as she closes her eyes. I hope she doesn’t walk into the coffee table, but she seems pretty sure-footed.

I can see that I won’t get these women out of my house without swinging Gary around. Sighing, I agree. “Fine, but I’ll be back in a flash.”

I go to the bathroom and hop into the shower, sighing in unexpected pleasure as the pulsing hot water hits my shoulders.

I try to rush, but the feeling of shampooing my hair and letting all the sweat, funk, and dirt sluice their way from my body is refreshing. Getting out, I catch a blurry glimpse of myself in the foggy mirror. I wipe the condensation away and am surprised at what I see. The circles under my eyes are deep purple, and my bags have carry-on luggage that would require an oversize fee. And when I pull on fresh clothes, they’re a bit baggier than usual.

Back in the living room, I find Jasmine’s happily puttering around the kitchen, watching over something on the stove that smells delicious, while Daysha and Aleria wash and put away the dishes. I guess Becca’s still out with Nut and Juice.

As I pad in, Daysha gives me a much more welcoming smile. “She’s alive.”

“Barely.”

“Well, Jasmine’s making her famous spaghetti sauce, so you’ll be refueled with yummy carb-a-licious goodness soon enough,” Aleria says, leading me back over to the couch where she pushes me down, forcing me to sit.

“Fill us in. Is it the book?” Aleria asks, perching on the edge of a chair across from me. It feels vaguely like therapy, and I expect her to ask me how I feel next.

“No, it’s not the book,” I reply, taking the silently offered hairbrush and getting to work. There are a lot of tangles, but I work at them carefully as I answer her. “The writing is actually going pretty well. But that’s only because I’ve been floating on cloud nine while I was writing the characters’ relationship building right along with mine and Connor’s.”

“While you were hunting the laptop down.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “It’s all seamless now, and I’m working on the last chunk of plotline.”

“That’s good,” Aleria says positively. “A few weeks ago, you couldn’t write a single scene, so that’s progress.”

“But now that I’m mad at Connor, I’m writing the characters blowing up too. I’ve been taking out my anger on Ryker and having Amber say all the shit I want to say to Connor. Like, ‘How could you? Were you using me the whole time?’”