Fish Heads and Duck Skin Read online

  I blinked, sniffed, and lifted my head, lips quaking even as I willed them not to.

  “The next level of your bravery is recognizing that this place you’re in, where you feel so terrible? It’s all part of the journey. My path was more direct, or at least it has been so far. But yours? Who knows where it will take you? Of all people, Tina, you aren’t stuck, not here, not anywhere. You just feel stuck because you’re banking into an unfamiliar turn that feels a lot like a corner.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s a corner,” I said, letting go of her hands and wiping my eyes.

  “It’s not a corner.”

  “Then it’s a ridiculously long turn, and I wish the exit sign would light up because it’s getting tedious.”

  Jennifer smiled at me. “There’s the one-liner I’ve been waiting for.” She hugged me and said into my ear, “You’re brave and your time is coming, do you believe me?”

  “I want to.”

  “You must believe me. Please, be patient. Things will get better, we just don’t know how yet.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again. “Yeah, okay.” I nodded.

  She grabbed my chart and started jotting notes while still looking at me. “Say it then: ‘I’m brave.’”

  I groaned. “I’m brave, mostly.”

  “No. Say, ‘I’m brave, always.’”

  I inhaled. “I’m brave, always.”

  “This feels like a corner, but it’s only a blind turn. Say it.”

  I looked at her and wiped a fresh tear. “This feels like a corner, but it’s only a blind turn.”

  “This is all part of my journey,” she said, nodding at me.

  “This is all part of my journey,” I said, nodding back.

  “We can stop chanting now.”

  “We can stop chanting now.”

  Jennifer looked at me and rolled her eyes. She put down the file and stood up.

  “I’m sorry I vented to you,” I said.

  “Please don’t apologize. Come on, we’ve known each other too long.”

  “But I can never repay your kindness.”

  “Actually,” she clicked her pen quickly several times in a row, signaling the arrival of a great idea, “you can.”

  I cocked my head. “Really?”

  “Yes, I need you desperately, in fact. Kyra’s hosting an all-women’s career event at her house next Thursday night.”

  “Wait, your brother’s wife, Kyra?”

  “Yes! And everyone is required to bring a friend. I have missed the last three of these event-things and Kyra is counting. If I don’t go to this one, I’ll lose my seat at Thanksgiving. And I don’t have a clue how to cook a turkey! Please come with me. I need you to, please.”

  “But I thought Kyra was a stay-at-home mom?”

  “She was! I mean, she is! Look, I don’t know what she does all day, I just know I need to show up for this thing or I’m eating Thanksgiving at some dodgy Chinese restaurant.”

  “You can always come skiing with us,” I said. “I won a week at a ski-in-ski-out chalet in Vail. We went last year, too. I’m telling you, the place is phenom—”

  “Tina!”

  “Alright, fine, I’ll go,” I grumbled.

  “Thank you!”

  I paused and turned my head to look at her out of the side of my eyes. “Wait a sec. Is this one of those event-things where people try to sell you a bunch of overpriced crap you don’t need?”

  “I’m not going to lie. Yes.”

  “But I hate those things! Talk about a trap, those events are terrible! Please, Jennifer, you can ask me to do anything else, just not this.”

  “Tina, I need you. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

  I moaned. “Ugh. Fine.”

  There was a knock on the door and Jennifer opened it. The nurse handed her a new chart and said something under her breath.

  “Okay, yes,” Jennifer said to the nurse before turning to me. “I gotta run, but I owe you forever. I’ll pick you up at 6 p.m. next Thursday. That’s nine days from now. Put it in your calendar. Don’t forget!”

  6.

  “Please pay careful attention to where my rectus abdominis intersects with my external obliques,” Emilio, the fitness trainer, instructed in a South American purr. He stood in the center of a large grassy expanse adjacent to Kyra’s infinity pool wearing minute purple shorts. His dark hair was secured in a low ponytail except for a few rogue pieces near his temples which waved playfully around his face, tickling his prominent jawline. He was about 6’3” or whatever the perfect height of a man is.

  He arranged his arms into side steeples, fingers grazing his navel, and contracted his stomach muscles, turning slightly to and fro so we could identify the area he was referring to. He looked like a museum piece—an evenly tan, talking, flexing statue. Forty women were fanned in a semi-circle around him, not blinking. Water burbled from a large spherical stone water feature behind him.

  He dropped into an effortless handstand, first with his legs straight up, then splitting them until they were horizontal. His knees remained at his sides as he slowly brought his feet back to center, about a foot above his groin.

  The crowd emitted a low ooooooh sound punctuated by some stray coughs. Women in black halter dresses circled silently with trays of champagne flutes.

  “The lower oblique is an area where we often lose the reins once we have children, ladies,” he said, casually upside down. “This will be one of the first areas we address in our sessions.”

  “Who knew there was such a thing as a lower oblique?” I whispered into Jennifer’s ear. “I thought it was a universal soft and squishy place.”

  “I knew there was such a thing. I’m instructing myself not to look at his lower oblique, but my eyes refuse to obey,” Jennifer whispered back.

  “You mean because his lower obliques extend into the front of his tiny pants?”

  Jennifer snort-coughed as Kyra suddenly appeared like a floating magical fairy between us, resting her arms lightly on our shoulders. “Bless you,” Kyra said and produced a dazzling smile. “May I borrow you two for a moment?”

  “Right now?” Jennifer looked at her, startled. “That’s just mean.”

  Kyra threw her head back and made soft musical sounds. “I won’t tell my brother you said that.” She winked and grabbed our hands. “Don’t worry, you can come back; Emilio will be posing on the grass for the next two hours.”

  We walked past the four perfectly adorned tables on her patio and into her kitchen, where every surface gleamed with polished onyx and stainless steel. The back wall looked like the control panel of a spacecraft—flecks in the onyx panels were twinkling like distant stars, control lights blinked, screens communicated coded messages, and hidden latches led to secret compartments. The appliances, while certainly running, were not humming, grinding, or mimicking the sound of an airplane about to take off. I made a mental note to call my contractor the next day to modernize my weak excuse for a canteen.

  “This is where the magic will happen later,” Kyra said, smiling.

  “You hired a magician?” I asked. Jennifer frowned.

  “No, better. I’m doing a cooking demonstration. It starts at seven. You won’t want to miss it.” She looked at her watch, tapping the crystal. “Oh geez, tick tock, I better show you around so you can make it back in time. Follow me.” She hustled through an archway and then another archway, stopping at a sitting area with a large low dark wood table covered in scarves and infant-sized handbags. “I’m not sure what Jennifer told you about tonight, Tina, but we run this party twice a year so our neighborhood mom-preneurs, including myself, have the opportunity to show their wares to our community of women in the interest of SIS.”

  I squinted at Kyra and then at Jennifer. “Am I, wait, who’s SIS?”

  Kyra held up three fingers and ticked them off one at a time. “SIS means to Spread the Word, Inspire Others, and Sell A Bunch of Stuff. It’s our SISterhood, get it? We’re all SISters her
e.” Kyra grinned. “And we’re always looking to grow our network, with people just like you.” She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “We can talk about that part later. In the meantime, enjoy a stuffed mushroom!” She plucked a pewter oval filled with glistening orbs on toothpicks from the corner of the table and held it out to me.

  “I’m really full, I—” She pushed the platter closer. “Yeah, okay, thank you.” I picked up a toothpick and worked the mushroom off with my teeth while glaring at Jennifer with one eyebrow raised.

  “That’s pretty good.” I chewed slowly while calculating how many hours I would need to stay up later to finish my paperwork if I couldn’t escape until after the cooking demonstration.

  Kyra gestured and said, “Follow me,” as she glided to another low wooden table in the corner. She swept her arms over it a la Vanna White. “I thought I’d bring you here first, Tina, because, while I honestly love your suit and am well-aware that the dress-like-a-man, wear-a-tux-to-the-Oscars thing is very hot this year, women can always, always, add a special something to their outfit. Something that says, I may be all business, but I’m well-acquainted with my feminine side. And Tessa has some scarves here that, no matter what the season, can help you make a signature statement and create that Wow moment. Wait, where’s Tessa?”

  I looked down at my brown work suit. It was a more unfortunate, medium shade of brown than what I’d envisioned when I’d bought it five or so years earlier, more manure-of-horse-on-way-to-glue-factory than exotic, dark cacao. Had this suit always been this color and I’d only just now realized it? I never made time to shop, but maybe the situation was approaching dire. I sighed as I noticed a crumb stuck in the buttonhole of my lapel. A large crumb, the size of a small chunk of gravel, probably from the stale-ish crust of the hospital kiosk turkey sandwich I’d eaten for lunch. I flicked it away quickly and then looked up.

  “I’m sure Tessa will fill you in on the possibilities, especially since, get this, she was a stylist to the stars!” Kyra’s face filled with delight and then immediately switched to thoughtful mode. She tapped on her smooth forehead with a long black sparkly nail the same color as her backsplash. “Let me think, what else might you need? We have a mind-blowing eye cream that is scientifically proven to reduce crow’s feet and puffiness, a spot remover which is fantastic for both wood-burning fireplace facades and grout, flavored olive oils, hand-crafted soaps …”

  I nodded and thought about the fight I’d started with Daniel right before Jennifer rang my doorbell to pick me up for this party. How I’d been furious with him because my day had started at 4 a.m. and he had left the milk on the counter since breakfast. The babysitter hustled the kids into the backyard as I seethed, convinced that the warm milk on the counter was an irrefutable sign that Daniel was a careless, selfish man-child who was allergic to effort and would never amount to anything but the type of person who leaves milk on the counter. “I am coordinating and overseeing the surgical implantations of eleven products in three states! I’ve been on four flights in four days! And, and …” my hands quivered as I held them in the direction of the milk. My body was a neon sign blinking DISGUST as I turned away from him and the damning evidence and stormed up the stairs.

  Ding dong.

  “Oh shit, Jennifer,” I’d said as I opened the door, still wild-eyed. Our bedroom door slammed above us.

  Jennifer didn’t seem to notice. “Oh yes, it’s ladies’ night, and the feeling’s right,” she sang as she hugged me in her wrinkled blue scrubs. “I got held up at work, but now it’s time to move out!”

  “I completely forgot about tonight’s event-thing. I just walked in the door, and it’s a monumentally bad time for me to leave. I’ve barely seen the kids.”

  “Yeah, my kids haven’t laid eyes on me since yesterday morning, and guess what? They’ll be just fine. But I won’t be fine if I don’t show up at this thing with you at my side.”

  “But you don’t understand.”

  “I understand that it looks like you could use a cold glass of chard and a night with low expectations and your favorite friend. Come on, there’ll be plenty of wine there, but maybe bring a bottle, just in case. Something not by Charles Shaw. We gotta go! I sense Kyra is tapping her watch, even as we speak!”

  I thought about running upstairs to say goodbye to Daniel or hustling out back to kiss the kids but decided it wouldn’t fix anything and would more than likely make things worse. Instead, I grabbed a sticky note from the top drawer of the foyer table and wrote, “I’ll be back later.” “Don’t miss me too much,” I didn’t write. I stuck it to the mirror facing the front door.

  “Is there anything in particular you’re shopping for?” I heard Kyra ask, possibly sensing that I had vacated the conversation.

  “I’m, uh, I don’t know. I guess I should walk around and take a look.”

  A woman in a black halter dress tapped Kyra on her chiseled bicep. “Excuse me, Kyra, but Pam’s free now.”

  Kyra did a quick golf-clap. “Thank you, Jules! Tina, you will love Pam. Come this way, she’s in my office.”

  I looked at Jennifer, who shrugged. “You first,” I said to her as we turned to follow Kyra.

  We stopped in front of pocket doors across from a hall bathroom. Kyra turned around and leaned against the door. The oversized glass sconces on either side projected stripes onto her face. “I have a psychic in here, and she’s incredible.”

  My eyes and mouth widened as I started to protest.

  Kyra smiled, raising her palm to silence me. “I know, I know, you probably think it sounds crazy, but I’m telling you, it’s not. Just meet her! She’s wonderful, and she’s only charging five bucks for fifteen minutes! It’s her SIS Special.” She giggled and shrugged. “I predict you’ll thank me later.” She winked.

  I glanced at Jennifer who suddenly looked nervous, like I might spontaneously combust, and she wouldn’t know where to find the fire extinguisher. I didn’t want her to worry. I also didn’t want to burst into flames. Screw it, I thought. It’s not as though this day can get worse. I closed my eyes and bowed my head in surrender.

  Kyra turned and slid open the door. “Pam?” she called softly and tiptoed in. Jennifer and I followed. A woman looked up and smiled from the far end of the black leather sofa. She had bright blue eyes and long, straight, silver hair. Her simple gray t-shirt was soft and loose. Her flowing skirt was lavender with tiny silver and purple flowers. Her sandals were delicate, pretty, and also silver. She looked like she had just stepped out of an AARP ad, like she was simultaneously twenty-five and seventy-five. “Hi,” she said, somehow making us feel unique and special.

  “Hi,” Jennifer and I responded in unison.

  “Pam! I’m so so happy you are free,” Kyra gushed. “This is my new friend, Tina, and my sister-in-law, Jennifer.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Pam said, oozing inner peace.

  “Jennifer, let’s let Tina go first, so she has time to circulate after. You can help me peel mandarin oranges in the kitchen. For the garnish.”

  “Okay,” Jennifer said, searching my face for clues to my mental state. I smiled at her as I shuffled forward, tossing my purse onto the houndstooth ottoman and dropping onto the other end of the couch. Not much longer now, I thought as Jennifer slid the door closed behind her.

  Pam turned toward me and pulled her legs into lotus position. She used her hands to scoot closer to me, reminiscent of a monkey. She stopped when she reached the middle of the couch, closed her eyes, rested her hands on her knees, and inhaled deeply. When she exhaled, she made the sound of an inner tube springing a leak.

  After three loud breaths, she opened her eyes. “I’m going to shuffle some cards on this cushion between us.” She patted the leather and carefully placed a stack of beat-up cards on it. “But first, let’s hold hands and take some deep breaths together.”

  “Alrighty,” I said, pushing my fingertips into my eyelids, willing myself to be polite. I deposited my clammy hands into he
r cool ones. Her fingers felt dusty, powdered almost, like a donut. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.

  “Do you have any questions today, Tina?” she asked me softly.

  I surprised myself yet again, this time by bursting into a spastic fit of laughter. I threw my head back and hooted. I let go of her hands and smacked the arm rest and zebra-striped ornamental pillow as tears of hysteria sprung from my eyes. “Do, I, have any questions?” I crowed. “Surely, you, already know the answer, because, you, know things,” I put up finger quotes, “but, you’re, you’re breaking the ice! I, didn’t, think psychics, needed to break the ice!”

  She smiled at me, waiting.

  “I’m, really, sorry,” I said, trying to contain my guffaw. “I think, I’ve been, struggling a lot lately. I’m sorry, I should probably go.”

  “What do you mean by struggling?” she asked calmly.

  I breathed again and wiped my eyes. “Well, you might, uh, already know this, but I guess I’m, uh, miserable, pretty much all the time. And, I’m not sure if I’ve, uh, created this unhappiness inside my mind, in some sort of act of self-sabotage. I guess I’m wondering if, um, I’m my own worst enemy. And I’m also wondering if I, uh, if I’m going to get divorced.” I cringed as the words left my mouth. I hadn’t said the D word in reference to my marriage out loud before. I suddenly felt small, like a kid sitting on a couch next to a wise elder.

  “Let’s start there,” she said. I blinked and squirmed as she grabbed her stack of cards and mixed them up. I noticed she shuffled like an amateur. She flipped a few cards over and flicked them onto the couch. Flip, flick, flip, flick. Suddenly, she stopped. She looked at me, surprised, and gasped, “Divorce? Oh no, no, no, honey, far from it. Your journey with him has only just begun. Can you see this?” She pointed at a strange figure on one of the cards. “This right here is your creativity. Look how big it is! It’s everywhere!” She flipped more cards. “And look here,” she tapped a different card, “your creativity is about to make a move—a giant leap, more like it.” She paused, then looked at me, eyes wide through silver lashes. “You will have a choice, a very big choice, between the path you are on now—the path you know—and the creative path, which you’ve barely caught a glimpse of. If you choose this creative path,” her bangle bracelets chimed as she tapped the card, “you will have many adventures and wonderful experiences, including self-discovery and travel! See?” She laughed softly and hugged herself. “But this new path, it’s unknown and will therefore be hard to choose.” She inhaled and smoothed her skirt, folding her hands back together.