Page 59 of The Game Is Afoot

“Here you go,” Jasmine says, sticking a name tag on my shirt. It readsKim, and hers saysMoesha.

“We’re here undercover,” she explains. “They don’t need to know our true identities. Oh hey, there’s your suspect.”

I follow her nod to Bethany, surrounded by a circle of adoring fans. She’s wearing cuffed white pants and a T-shirt with her logo on it, her short hair slicked back to let her big doe eyes shine. As if she heard Jasmine, too, she does a double-take, but the surprise, maybe even slight alarm, quickly shifts to her signature smile. Is that because she knows I’m onto her and doesn’t want me on her trail? Or probably more likely: my prickly, less-than-enthusiastic reception to her invitation made her think I wouldn’t actually show. That’s good. I want to catch her as off guard as possible, so I can getsomethingout of her tonight.

“Mavis! Hi!”

Mackenzie Skinner waves to us from the chairs, where everyone is starting to grab their spots to get the best view of Bethany. Mackenzie signals to the two spots next to her in the third row, and when I look to Jasmine she shrugs and nods.

“I’m so happy to see you here. I wasn’t sure after last week in the park because you…”

“Because I almost passed out?” I offer, and Mackenzie blushes. “No, yeah—I’m really, um…intrigued at what Bethany has going here.” I ignore Jasmine’s snort next to me.

“She’s totally transformed my life,” Mackenzie says, withcomplete sincerity. I glance at the alleged life-transformer, who is making her way to the front of the room. “I was a little lost when we first moved to Beachwood. Todd travels so much, you know, and I was really trying to figure out what my purpose is, whatIwas supposed to be doing.” Well, that’s a very privileged question to even be considering, I think, holding back an eye roll. But then I realize that tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes as she twirls her blond ponytail. No matter what my judgy ass thinks, this is serious to her. “Bethany helped me to realize that my first job is to take care of myself. I need to do that well before I can really think about anyotherjob.”

Smile and nod, Mavis. You are undercover. You are not yourself right now. “Uh-huh.”

“Mavis! I was wondering if that was you.” Christine, Pearl’s troop leader, turns around from the row in front of us, saving me from myself. “I was hoping a lot of the Clover Scouts moms would be here. Bethany made such a great proposal to me and Claudia.” Next to her, Claudia fixes me with a stank eye because she’s apparently never getting over those fucking badges. Jasmine leans into my view, raising her eyebrow in questioning, but my mind is still stuck on “proposal.” Proposal for what? I know Christine sent out an email yesterday, but I clicked out of it after reading the first passive-aggressive line.

Murmurs of excitement begin to build, though, and Christine turns around before I can ask.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on crying tonight!” Bethany shouts, immediately commanding everyone’s attention. Is that…her greeting? And wait—isshe crying? I swear her eyes were dry a second ago, but yes, oh my god—they reallyarewelling up. She wipes away a single perfect teardrop after it’s made it halfway down her cheek, and I see a couple phones raise to capture it. Iseveryone here about to cry? Are they gonna expect me to? Because I don’t know if my undercover skills extend that far…

“It’s just sohearteningandlife-affirmingto see so many women in front of me, passionate about their own self-care journeys. And I’m so,sooverwhelmed with joy and gratitude that I get to talk to you about theMin my I LUV ME method tonight.” Applause overtakes the room, and she clutches her hands to her chest, mouthingThank you.

“As many of you know,Mstands formiracle yourself. And it’s a really important part of the method to me. Maybe the most important part.”

“ ‘Miracle yourself’? Is that whatyouthought it stood for?” Jasmine mumbles from the side of her mouth, as we wait for more applause.

“No. I thought…meditate, maybe?” I whisper back.

“Or massage? Uh-uh, I’m not trying to miracle myself tonight. What kind of culty-ass shit have you gotten me into, girl?”

Claudia, my bestie, turns around and angrily shushes us.

“And to explain why, I want to start with a story tonight. Some of you have heard this already, but I feel so called to share it again, in this moment. Is that okay?” There’s an echo of affirmatives, a few cheers, and even a “Yes, Bethany! You tell ’em!” like we’re in church or something. Her face glows as she basks in it all.

I expect her to keep standing as she launches into her TED Talk/sales pitch to this adoring audience, but to my surprise, she pulls a chair onto center stage and sits down. She tucks her right leg underneath her and leans in. I think it’s supposed to signal intimacy, like she’s just having a casual chat with fifty of her closest friends, but there’s something rehearsed about it, at least to me. The rest of the room doesn’t seem to feel the same,though. They lean in just like her, as if they’ll absorb more of her wisdom, herlove, with proximity.

“So, less than a year ago, I was sitting in an exam room at Beachwood Memorial Hospital. I knew that room well. I had spent a lot of time in that room, finding out I had breast cancer, going through all the tests and surgeries and chemotherapy until it went into remission…and then finding out the heartbreaking news that it came back, surprising everyone. Stage four.” My stomach twists, thinking of my mom getting this same news, with me, her infant daughter, waiting for her at home. I almost feel guilty—butno. This woman uses her experience to make money off of people. She may have done even worse to Cole. I’mnotgoing to fall for it.

“But this day was different,” she continues. “This day was thehardestday I’d ever had in that room by far. Because this day—this day—my oncologist had just told me that the clinical trial, the one that took amiraclefor me to even be let into, the one that was supposed to work amiracleon my stage four breast cancer—had failed. I had no other options.”

She pauses and looks around the room, as if she’s trying to make eye contact with every single woman.

“I felt discouraged. I felt angry. I felt…hopeless. But then it came to me. If other people’s miracles didn’t work, I needed to miracle myself.”

Mackenzie leans into me. “So inspiring, right?”

“And so I did all the things that as women, as moms, we think it’ll take amiracleto find time for. I gifted my body movement and sunshine. I ate nourishing, whole foods. I spent time in deep reflection, providing my mind with the stillness it requires to function at its optimal frequency. I went toso manysound baths. I did all the things that have now become thefoundations of my I LUV ME method—which you’ll have immediate access to if you join us tonight.”

Of course she still hasn’t told us what the rest of that ridiculous acronym stands for—it’s behind a paywall.

“I trusted that my body and mind are connected and when you show that you care for one, it gives the other the will to keep fighting. I was patient. I was dedicated. I put care for myself aboveeverything. And that allowed me to discover the exact combination of brain and body care I needed to bring about the healing of mywhole self.”

I look around me to see if anyone else is sniffing out this bullshit, but other than Jasmine, who is scrolling on her phone, everyone is nodding like Bethany is saying something profound. But on top of this all being woo-woo nonsense, IswearI’ve heard some of this word-for-word from her before. She’s acting like this is all off-the-dome, a special experience for just this audience, but shemusthave a script. Don’t they care that this is a script?

It doesn’t seem like it. Mackenzie—who as an Absolute Wellness Guru hasdefinitelyheard this before—looks like one of those women in the late-night Christian music commercials I used to watch during sleepovers as a kid.

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