Chapter Sixteen #2
She was wearing so many necklaces, bracelets, and anklets that she sounded like a wind chime in a hurricane.
She was also, and I had to admit this, objectively, stunningly beautiful.
High cheekbones, luminous skin, dark eyes that sparkled with warmth and mischief.
It was immediately obvious where Athena had gotten her looks.
That, and her complete disregard for social conventions.
“Mom! Dad!” Athena jumped up from her seat, nearly knocking over her wineglass. “What are you doing here?”
“The universe told us you needed us,” Stevie said, pulling Athena into a hug that involved a lot of jingling. “We were meditating this morning, and I had the strongest vision. You, surrounded by rigid energy, needing support and love and—”
“We were in the neighborhood,” Woody piped up, which seemed unlikely given that we were in downtown New Haven and from my understanding, they lived in New York City.
“This is amazing!” Athena turned to my parents, who looked like they had been flash-frozen. “Mom, Dad, these are Julien’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. And this is my mom, Stevie, and my dad, Woody!”
“Woodlawn,” Woody corrected, extending his hand to my father. “But everyone calls me Woody. It’s a pleasure to meet you, brother.”
My father stared at Woody’s hand like it might be contaminated.
He shook it anyway.
Barely.
“Charmed,” he said, in a tone that suggested he was anything but.
“Oh, I can feel your energy!” Stevie said, moving toward my mother with her arms outstretched.
“You have such a strong aura. Very blue, very structured, very... oh, you’re holding a lot of tension in your shoulders.
Have you considered acupuncture? Or perhaps some energy work?
I could do a quick session right now if you—”
“That won’t be necessary,” my mother said, taking a very deliberate step backward.
“Are you sure? Because I’m sensing some blocked chakras, and—”
“Quite sure.”
“Well, if you change your mind!” Stevie smiled, completely unbothered. “The offer stands. I always travel with my crystals.”
Of course she did.
“Please,” Athena said, gesturing to the table. “Join us! We have plenty of room, and—”
“We couldn’t possibly intrude,” my mother said quickly.
“It’s no intrusion!” Athena insisted. “Right, Julien?”
Everyone turned to look at me.
My parents, who were silently begging me to say no.
Athena’s parents, who were already pulling up chairs.
Athena, smiling like this was the best thing that had ever happened.
Me, experiencing what could only be described as a complete psychological break.
“Of course,” I heard myself say. “Please. Join us.”
My mother’s eyes twitched again.
My father reached for his wine.
Woody sat down, his poncho spreading across the chair like a textile statement of rebellion against everything Le Bernardin stood for. Stevie settled in next to my mother, her jewelry creating a symphony of tinkling sounds that made the waiter visibly flinch.
“So!” Woody said, leaning back in his chair with the casual confidence of someone who had never experienced social anxiety. “Julien. Athena tells us you’re a brain surgeon.”
“Neurosurgeon,” I corrected automatically.
“Right, right. Same thing. You cut into people’s heads.”
“It’s slightly more complicated than—”
“Must be intense, man. All that pressure. All that responsibility. Do you ever feel like the weight of it is crushing your spirit? Because I’ve got some breathing exercises that might help. Really opens up the third eye.”
“I don’t need to open my third eye.”
“Everyone needs to open their third eye, brother.”
“I’m not your brother.”
“We’re all brothers in the cosmic sense.”
I reached for my wineglass.
It was empty.
I reached for the bottle.
“So,” my mother began, her voice tight with the kind of forced politeness that suggested she was seconds away from snapping. “Woodlawn. What is it that you do?”
“I’m a woodworker,” Woody said proudly. “I make custom furniture. All sustainable materials, all hand-carved, all infused with positive energy. And I also do some shamanic work on the side. Healing ceremonies, vision quests, that kind of thing.”
“Vision quests,” my father repeated.
“Yeah, man. It’s powerful stuff. Really helps people connect with their true selves. You should try it sometime. I’m sensing you’ve got some unresolved issues with your masculine energy.”
My father’s jaw tightened.
“I assure you, my masculine energy is perfectly resolved.”
“That’s what everyone says right before they have a breakthrough.”
“I’m not having a breakthrough.”
“Not with that attitude.”
I poured myself more wine.
“And you, Stephanie?” my mother asked, turning to Stevie with the kind of desperate hope that suggested she was praying for something... anything normal.
“Oh, please, call me Stevie!” Stevie smiled, her bracelets jingling. “I’m a herbalist and a Reiki master. I grow all my own herbs. Completely organic, completely aligned with the lunar cycles, and I help people heal through energy work and plant medicine. It’s very rewarding.”
“Plant medicine,” my mother repeated faintly.
“Yes! Herbs, tinctures, teas. All natural, all blessed by the Earth. I actually brought some with me.” She reached into her bag, a massive woven thing that looked like it had been made by very enthusiastic hippies, and pulled out several small bottles.
“This one is for stress relief, this one is for digestive issues, this one is for—”
“We’re fine,” my mother said quickly. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m getting a very tense energy from this table, and I think a little chamomile and lavender might—”
“We’re fine.”
“Well, if you change your mind!”
The waiter appeared, looking slightly panicked.
“Are we... ready to order?”
“Yes,” my father said. “Please.”
“I’ll have the duck,” my mother said.
“The salmon,” my father added.
“Do you have anything vegan?” Athena asked.
“We have a vegetable tasting menu.”
“Perfect!”
“Same for me,” Stevie said. “But can you make sure the vegetables are prepared with love? The energy of the food really does matter.”
The waiter blinked. “I’ll... mention it to the chef.”
“And I’ll have whatever’s got the most protein,” Woody said. “I’m trying to build up my physical strength for an upcoming sweat lodge ceremony.”
“The steak,” the waiter suggested weakly.
“Perfect. But can you make it rare? Like, really rare? I like my meat to still have its life force.”
The waiter looked as if he wanted to cry.
I knew the feeling.
“And for you, sir?” he asked, turning to me.
“Whiskey,” I said.
“That’s not a food item, sir.”
“I know.”
Athena reached over and squeezed my hand. “He’ll have the salmon too. And maybe some bread. You look like you need carbs.”
The waiter fled.
“So!” Stevie said brightly, turning to my parents. “Tell us about yourselves! What do you do?”
“I’m a partner at Whitmore & Associates,” my father said. “Corporate law.”
“Oh, how interesting! Do you enjoy it?”
“It’s lucrative.”
“But does it feed your soul?”
My father stared at her. “It feeds my bank account.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s close enough.”
“And you?” Stevie turned to my mother.
“I’m on the board of several charitable organizations,” my mother said. “The New Haven Women’s League, the Symphony Guild, the—”
“Oh, how wonderful! Giving back to the community. That’s very aligned with the principles of Karma.”
“It’s not about Karma. It’s about social responsibility.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Because in the cosmic sense—”
“I’m quite sure.”
Woody leaned forward, his ice-blue eyes fixed on my father. “So, brother. What do you do for fun?”
“Golf,” my father said stiffly.
“Golf! Interesting. Very structured. Very controlled. Do you ever feel like you’re trying to impose order on the chaos of the universe through the medium of a small white ball?”
“No.”
“You should think about it. Might be enlightening.”
“I don’t need enlightenment. I need a lower handicap.”
“Same thing, man. Same thing.”
I finished my wine.
Poured more.
Athena was chatting happily with both sets of parents, completely oblivious to the fact that this dinner was a social apocalypse. She was asking my mother about her charity work, complimenting Stevie’s jewelry, laughing at something Woody said about “the sacred geometry of golf courses.”
She was the bridge between two worlds that should never have met.
And somehow, somehow... she was making it work.
Not well.
But work.
Until it wasn’t.