Page 37 of Counting the Days

“Since I was a kid…,” said Danny.

“Long-lasting damage…,” said the man.

Finally, Rhea gave up and grabbed her purse. She walked to the edge of the property and looked over the cliff. The ocean crashed on the rocks below, the foam a glaring white in the moonlight. She shivered and wrapped her wool coat tighter.

She knew she should go back to her room. No good would come from waiting around to talk to a man who did not want children. Also, he seemed to currently have no interest in her. She sighed, resolved. But then she remembered her suitcase was in his room;she had an excuse to talk to Danny!She excitedly turned around and slammed into him.

“Oh, God, sorry,” she said.

“Are you okay?” he said at the same time.

They laughed awkwardly.

“I was just gonna ask if you wanted to come get your suitcase.”

“Oh, yes, yeah, thank you.”

She looked past him; the unknown man was gone. They were finally alone. His eyes studied her. His lips parted as if he was about to speak.

“Wanna go in the hot springs?” escaped Rhea’s mouth before she could stop it.

An array of emotions crossed his face, but Rhea could not decipher any of them. It was a far more complicated array than she had expected.

“Um—yeah, sure—totally.”

“No pressure—I’ve just been wanting to check them out—”

“No, no, I’m down, let’s do it.”

He turned in the opposite direction from his room and started walking.

“Oh, I just need to go to your room first…to get my bathing suit.”

More emotions flashed across his face. “Right, okay, great.”

Rhea was confused; did he not want to go to the hot springs with her? She fought the desire to reiterate, “No pressure.”

As they walked to his room, he seemed to relax. They talked about how intense dance therapy was. He asked where she was during dinner. She told him the dancing wiped her out and she fell asleep.

They arrived at his room, and he waited outside while she went in to change. She put on her black Marysia scalloped bikini and told herself not to look in the mirror; she needed to stay upbeat and confident. She piled her clothes back on over the bikini: a white James Perse tank top, a gray cashmere Jenni Kayne sweater, and oversized Agolde jeans that hung loosely on her frame. She had not brought any “standing jeans” to Esalen. Everything she’d packed was baggy and comfortable, a decision she regretted now that the Edible Gardener was in attendance. She briefly tried to tame her fluffy hair, gave up, and rejoined him outside.

As they walked toward the hot springs, Rhea said, “That woman who said she found me, do you know her name?”

“You mean the older lady whose husband died? This is gonna sound terrible, but I’ve just been calling her ‘Dead Husband’ in my head.”

“I’ve been calling her ‘Wild Eyes’ in mine.”

“Tomorrow, no matter what, we learn her name.”

“Deal…but it has to be stealthy, she shared things with me that no woman should share with someone who doesn’t know her name.”

“I say we break into the front desk and go through all the workshop registrations….”

“Then we match the names with newspaper articles of recently deceased men hit by semitrucks….”

“I mean, that’s the easiest way.”

“It’s the only way.”