Page 61 of Save a Wish

“I can do this,” I repeated before getting out of the car and gathering my singing bowl cases, my drum, and a tote bag. It was a great deal to carry at once, but I was eager to get set up and start the session.

As I walked to my client’s front door, Beckett’s voice echoed in my head.

“Your clients are going to wonder how they survived without you after they have a session.” He’d said several encouraging statements like that one over the past few days as we’d spent more time together. We’d had dinner at a fancy, romantic restaurant called Starry Hill Bistro. We’d hung out with his siblings, and I’d helped care for some of the animals at Hartley’s Nest. We’d gone for runs at Granite Cliff National Park where we’d first met. We’d enjoyed horseback riding through the woods where the fall colors dazzled and I’d impressed Beckett with my riding skills.

Which, of course, he’d wanted to know how I’d acquired.

“I had lessons as a child,” I’d said, hoping to keep it at that and move on.

But Beckett had questioned me further. “Does your family own horses?”

“Yes.”

“And you rode often?” he asked.

“As much as I could.”

He’d paused, waiting for me to give him more information, but that would have been dipping into dangerous territory. I didn’t want to reveal too much. Things had been going so well in Greenridge and with Beckett. I hadn’t wanted to ruin everything by unloading my roots.

Plus, Beckett had told me that he’d been looking for a partner for a little while now. He’d been using something called a dating app, which he’d explained was an online database of people also looking for partners. Connections were made on the computer with in-person dates then scheduled. He hadn’t had much luck on this dating app, however, due to one reason primarily.

“Liars,” he’d said. “The majority of the women on these apps are liars. They put false things in their profiles to get your attention, but then when you meet in person, they are nothing like what they said they were. I want someone real and true. Someone who isn’t afraid to be herself and someone I can trust.”

I’d nodded along because, of course, that was a reasonable request for a partner. Why would anyone want to be with a liar?

Only. . . I’d been lying to Beckett—and everyone else—since I’d left Verdalach. I’d taken on a fake identity, went by a fake name, pretended not to be a princess, denied my engagement to Cian, buried my old self so deep that I’d nearly forgotten the life I used to live.

The more time I spent with Beckett, the easier it became to believe I’d always been Sadie Rodgers. I’d convinced myself that he didn’t need to know anything about my past for us to have a future together.

But was that fair? He’d shared so much of himself with me. Little stories about growing up as the youngest child in a big family. Memories of his father. He’d let me into his world by sharing his interests with me. I’d even tried my hand at video gaming with him, delighting us both when I was actually pretty good at it.

His questions, however, signaled he wanted to know more about me, but it was better, safer, if we only looked ahead.

I reached my client’s front door and rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door swung open and a woman wearing black leggings and a long-sleeved purple T-shirt answered the door. She was probably in her early forties with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a tiredness shadowing her blue eyes.

“Sadie Rodgers from Kalm Kingdom,” I said. “Are you Marilynn?” Not that I needed her to answer that question. I could see her aura was in need of recalibrating.

“I am,” she said. “Come in.” She led me into her living room. “We can either do the session in here or out in the three-season room.” She pointed beyond the living room to a sliding, barn-style door.

“Let’s go with the three-season room,” I said. “That way we can be surrounded by more nature.”

Nodding once, Marilynn walked over to the door and slid it to the right. Beyond that was a room with three walls of windows that offered a wonderful view of the woods and mountains behind the house.

“Oh, this is great,” I said. “I just need to unpack my singing bowls and set up.”

“All right. I have an email to send to a colleague anyway,” Marilynn said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She scurried off and I took a moment to light a sage bundle and cleansed the three-season room of its frenzied atmosphere before lighting the lavender candle. Then I arranged my singing bowls in a semi-circle and placed my drum beside them. Sitting behind the bowls, I took a few deep breaths, sifting them out slowly, and centered myself for the session ahead. I would be no good to my client’s wellness if I let my thoughts about fleeing Verdalach and hiding my past from Beckett be a cloud above me.

Marilynn returned, looking more frazzled than when she’d left to send that email. “You ever have a day when you’re sick of humans?”

I let out a small laugh. “On occasion, yes.”

“I work from home, but I’ve had a morning full of virtual meetings,” Marilynn said. “In every single meeting, some idiot has acted like an idiot, you know? Saying things that reveal they know nothing. Coming up with dumb ideas that won’t work. Making things harder than they need to be.” She shook her head. “I hope you’ve come with some fairy dust or something because it’s going to take genuine magic to bring me some tranquility today.”

“You’re in luck,” I said. “I have a bottle of fairy dust in my bag here.” I patted the tote bag. “But let’s try some other methods first. We’ll use the fairy dust as a last-ditch effort if needed.”

“Sounds good.” Marilynn pointed to a couch lining one wall of the room. “Shall I recline over there or should I sit with you on the floor? What are the rules here?”