Page 127 of Plays Well With Others

EMPOWERED ME

Rachel

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is totally fine,” I say with a stiff upper lip as I chat with Ellie’s little Chihuahua, Gigi, once I’m dressed and ready for the day. The pipsqueak blonde cutie follows me to the kitchen. Ellie’s still sleeping since she had a late night on her show, and her fiancé, Gabe, is out running.

Like Carter does in the mornings.

Stay strong. Don’t think of him.

But that’s near impossible.

Still, I have to try, so I talk quietly with Gigi. It’s just the dog and me as I grab a sesame bagel Ellie left for me on the kitchen counter. Gigi wags her tail, staring relentlessly at the food.

I give her a sad smile as I pluck a piece off. “I mean, relationships suck, people cheat, and employees quit with no notice. But hey, as long as you have friends and bagels, right?”

Her little tail thumps. And a tear slides down my cheek.

What the hell? I’m crying because a dog is wagging her tail?

No, I’m crying because Carter makes me happy but I can’t be with him because everything sucks.

But the last time I thought everything sucked, I told off a customer and then I stained Carter’s shirt with my mascara, and I amnotbacktracking. I take one more bite of the bagel, then I kiss the dog and go.

I still need to be a better me even if I can’t haveeverythingI want. I need to be the me who invited Ava over last night. The me who brings good vibes to the block. The me who cares about her friends, her employees, her family.

I need to be Empowered Me. I have enough. I have a new life. I have great friends.

Most of all, I’m free.

So there.

Ellie lives a mile from the main drag in Venice where my store is. I walk to work and along the way, I make an important call. I don’t expect Elena to answer, since shrinks don’t usually answer the phone, but she picks up on the second ring. “Elena Lopez.”

“Oh, hi,” I say. “It’s Rachel. I wasn’t expecting you.”

She laughs softly. “Then why did you call? Or were you hoping to leave a voice message confessional rather than talking to me?”

I gulp. Totally busted. “I guess I’m not the only patient to do that?”

“You’re not even the only patient to do that this week,” she says, then clears her throat and adopts a thoroughly professional tone. “What can I help you with? I do have another session in a few minutes, but when I saw you calling, I thought it might be important.”

Is this important? It feels vitally important to me, but I’m not sure it’ll be important to her. Sounds pretty foolish to sayI played pretend girlfriend with my best friend, but I fell for him for real, and now I’m kind of sad, but I’m mostly calling because I lied to you about it.

But I say it anyway, even if it’s embarrassing. “I wasn’t honest with you at our last session. With this whole five dates thing I’ve been doing with Carter. Yes, I told you we were doing girlfriend lessons, but we also started sleeping together and it’s amazing. But so are the girlfriend lessons. Each time we go on a date. He shows me how a man should treat a woman. And that probably sounds absolutely ridiculous, like we’ve been playing at being boyfriend and girlfriend. I guess in some ways we have, especially since I stupidly fell in love with him, and I didn’t want to tell you that because I was embarrassed.”

To her credit, she doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t scoff. She asks without agenda, “Why were you embarrassed?”

“Because I thought you’d say it wasn’t healthy. That it was the opposite of what I should be doing. That I should be havingadult relationships.”

“It certainly sounds like you’re having adult relations,” she deadpans.

I laugh at her joke. “That’s true.”

“Why did you think I would say it was unhealthy? What about it feels unhealthy to you?”

That’s a good question. As I walk into the Los Angeles morning, the sun warming my shoulders, I ask myself that too, and I only find one good answer: “Because it wasn’t entirely real.”

But is that even the right answer anymore?

---