Page 10 of Rewrites of the Heart

“I don’t get it,” Alex admitted.

“Simple. Take the studies that were performed quite a while ago with basketball players,” he explained. “The researchers told one group not to practice. Then they took a second group, instructing them to practice playing basketball in their minds. They were to imagine every detail they could, from the precise jump they used to dunking the ball, to the faces of the other players. ‘Make it real,’ they were told. And finally, they instructed the third group to physically practice thirty minutes a day.” He paused, obviously for dramatic effect, JJ thought. “Do you know what happened?”

The two women stared at each other. Then they looked at him, shaking their heads. “What happened?” they asked in unison.

“The second group—who practiced in thought only—actually played a better game than the first group who did nothing.”

Alex still shook her head. “What do basketball players have to do with us? I don’t plan on playing basketball. Don’t even try to get me on a court.”

“The point goes deeper than basketball,” Blake said patiently. “The concept holds that if you think about something long enough and believe hard enough that something—or in our case, two ‘someones’ are real—they become real.”

She looked disappointed. “That’s totally ridiculous.”

JJ said nothing. She got up, gathered the paper her breakfast sandwich had been wrapped in, picked up her coffee cup, and headed for the kitchen.

“I’m going to work. If you guys need something let me know, I’ll be in the office. Otherwise make yourselves at home.”

Alex asked, “You’ll be working all day, won’t you?”

“That’s the game plan. Except for the quick run to buy some groceries.”

“Would you let us make you supper tonight? I’m sure between the two of us we can make something that’s worth eating. It’ll be our way of showing you we appreciate your hospitality.”

JJ nodded and smiled. “Why thank you. How sweet.” She strode into her office and closed the door.

What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter9

“Fire! Fire!”

JJ heard Blake pummel on her office door. It sounded as if he were trying to break it down. “Save yourself first. No heroes, please! Women and children first!”

She jumped up in a panic and rushed to the door just as he pushed it open. She collided with him, and they both fell to their butts.

“Fire! Fire!” he continued to yell, trancelike.

“Okay! I get it!” She scrambled to her feet, leaving Blake struggling to stand. She practically trampled him in her beeline to the kitchen. She heard him get up and follow her.

Flames fanned out of the oven. “What’s in there?”

“Pizza.”

JJ opened the door beneath the sink, took the home fire extinguisher off the hook, and sprayed for the short period the device allowed. Thankfully, it was enough. The flames disappeared, and chemicals poisoned the air. She turned the oven off.

She grabbed a towel from a drawer under the counter and slowly approached the oven. She tentatively felt its handle. Cool enough to touch with the towel, she decided. She opened it.

It was hard to tell what was left of the pizza at first, but as she pulled it out, she realized it had been placed on the rack without being taken from the wrapper. Plastic had melted on the rack, the box, once green and red, was now curled and shades of burnt cardboard.

“What a bloody shame,” Blake said. She shot him a dirty look.

She quickly surveyed the kitchen for the extent of the damage.

“Where’s Alex?”

Blake’s eyes widened. His mouth slowly formed an “O” formation, and he headed for the back door. He looked out past the small porch, over its wooden railing. She followed him.

There, not six feet from the porch, sat Alex. Her hair, which had been in a lightly pulled ponytail, was now strewn around her face which displayed a hurt and confused look. She stared up at the two of them as tears streamed down her cheeks.

---