Page 31 of Sort of Seeing Someone

“What about another venue?” I suggest the obvious.

“No. I know the Chicago Cultural Center isthe onethe way I knew that Bryson wasthe one.”

All this talk aboutthe onereminds of how Esther Higgins left our conversation back in Little Italy and I start to feel a pang of sadness. Apparently, I had with Brodywhat Shereé has with Bryson, and I let it go like dirty dishwater. In an effort to turn my emotional tide, I remind myself that my second chanceiscoming, or so she said. I take a quick look around the bakery to see if maybe Brody tracked my location and in an unprecedented romantic move, flew back to Chicago to surprise me right here, right now and beg for us to be the power couple of my California dreams. But the only guy on the premise is a burly, JasonMomoa look-alike who appears to work for the company who replaces their entryway rugs a few times a week. He is the antithesis of Brody. Plus, he’s sporting a gold wedding band.

“Can you secure it for next year?” I ask, humbly returning to the conversation.

“Next year? No. Impossible. I’ve already got StephanieIzardfrom Girl & The Goat locked in for the catering. Goose Island is doing all of our beer for free, same with City Winery for the red, white, and bubbly.Bryson’suncle is friends with Dr.Dre, who’s committed to doing our music. And the icing on the cake, at least for me, is thatAminaGoldberg said yes to sending me a custom couture, blush-pink, princess ballgown with her gratis as long as I post the shit out of it ahead of next year.A freeAminaGoldberg,Moonie!”

“That’s fantastic!”

I have no idea whoAminaGoldberg is.

“This is the dress of my dreams. Who knows if it will be in style in a year? Another reason I need to secure my wedding forthisNew Year’s Eve or I’ll have to start completely over with an entirely new vision.”

When she says the word vision, I’m instantly reminded of an easy way I could check to see if this dream wedding will become her reality. I could just hold her hand, close my eyes, see what I see, and report back.

But, alas, Angeline freshly drilled it into me that this “gift” comes with a great responsibly to understand it. I’m not sure going around palm reading astranger who is popular on the internet and advising her about the single most important day of her life while hopped up on sugar is the definition ofresponsible.

“I have an idea,” I say, wanting and willing to give something else a try.

In my purse, I pull out therutilatedquartz. The last time I touched it, I was withYasand it was a full moon. It has to still have some of those super powers, right? Plus,Yasminsaid it was for goal setting and achieving. I think that can work here…

“What’s that?”Shereéasks.

“It’s rutilated quartz, charged by a full moon.”

Shereé lets out a little laugh. I don’t blame her. This sounds so silly.

“Okay. And? What am I supposed to do withthat?”

“Put it in your hand,” I instruct her, sliding it her way.

“Now what?” she asks, clutching the rock.

I wish I could reach into my bag and grab my new book about crystals. I’d look up rutilated quartz in the index, turn straight to the page about it, and give her all the formal direction she needs. But I can’t fly that freak flag right now. So instead, I’ll have to dig deep in my memory for what Yasmin told me about this one and do my best to recite the directions from what’s stored in my heart.

I take a deep breath and begin.

“See the gold flecks?” She nods. “Close your palm tightly and shut your eyes. Think about your ultimate goal with this whole Cultural Center wedding date fiasco.”

“I want the couple who has it on the 31stto call off their wedding. Immediately.”

It’s a weird goal, and a little dark if we’re being honest, but Shereé is sure about it, which is all that matters. So I continue providing instructions like I am air traffic control.

“Okay. Stay focused and imagine that each of those gold flecks in the crystal represents that goal. Imagine them leaving the crystal and absorbing into your body through your palm. Picture the gold flecks, charged with your goal, coursing through your veins from head to toe, infusing your body with a new reality that’s right around the corner, waiting to become yours.”

As I close out on the instructions to Shereé, I wish that Yasmin was sitting here listening to me lean into the woo-woo like I never left Ocean Beach.

“Can I open my eyes now?” Shereé asks.

“Of course,” I say,not really sure. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing,” she says, the way you gratify a massage therapist after a sixty-minute rub down.“I feel...calm. Weirdly optimistic. A little lightheaded even.”

It’s working, I think to myself. That or, it could be the sugar high setting in.

“Great. Now just keep meditating on that.”

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