Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
EVERLY SLUMPS AGAINST the front door after Asim leaves, hands over her mouth, vaguely baffled as a wave of confusion and relief washes over her. What in the world just happened? It feels like she’s in some sort of hazy twilight zone, outside her body but somehow also feeling everything ten times more than she ever has before.
“Earth to Everly.”
She jumps, her fingers knocking against her lips when Frankie claps their hands, startling Everly out of her weird, fugue state.
“You good?” Frankie says, and Everly shakes her head no, then nods a confirmative yes.
“Yeah, totally good,” she says. “Wait, where did you come from?”
“I just got here, figured you could use some backup since it sounded like your morning was already thrown off. Also I kinda wanted to check out your Hot Delivery Guy, but it looks like I missed him,” Frankie says.
Everly stares at them, a blank look on her face.
“Okayyyyy… I found your list,” Frankie says, holding up the slip of paper. “I’ll just get started on the string lights while you take a quick cold shower, yeah? Morning is nearly over at this point, the party people will be here before you know it.”
Frankie’s right. The morning has somehow sped away from her and she needs to catch up if she’s going to get through this day in one piece. Everly nods her thanks and thumps up the stairs, as she had been trying to do the entire time Asim was here, but now feels much less imperative than it did before. She doesn’t entirely understand what their interactions meant. She’s confused about how the entire situation ended, because she’s pretty sure he was interested in her, but then he left without asking for her number. She must have misread it.
A small voice still whispers that he was flirting with her too though, and that just maybe it did mean something.
Frankie leaves after getting some of the prep work done with promises to return in a few hours. Meanwhile, Everly’s thoughts tumble around her head as she gets made up for the day, largely focused on Asim. Everly curls and pins her hair, smooths lotion down her legs, puts the final touches on her makeup. She finishes with jewelry and comfy shoes for now, pulling out sleek heels for later, and leaving her dress hanging on the back of the door. Everything is ready for a quick outfit change and touch up this evening before the guests arrive, so she checks her watch and compares it to her planning sheet for the day as she walks much more confidently back down the stairs. Now that Everly has her game face on, she can remind herself what is expected of her, and that she knows precisely how to follow through.
Everly straightens her list on the counter and refills her mug, inhaling the delicious scents of a heady medium roast.
Coffee is one of her favorite smells, even though she rarely drinks it. The rich, earthy scent reminds her of carefree mornings growing up with her parents.
They drank coffee only on weekends, so the smell always brings fond memories of relaxing in the kitchen together on Sunday mornings with jazz playing over the stereo. As she thinks about it, more memories pop into her head: her parents laughing with her mom clinging to her dad’s arm; both of them dancing around the kitchen island, wrapped up in each other; quietly reading together in the soft sunlight after breakfast, her dad with a newspaper and her mom with a magazine or romance novel.
She doesn’t have many memories of her sister, Addison, during these moments, and she frowns as she tries to figure out why. It feels foolish to assume her sister was enjoying the moment quietly as she was; her sister was rarely quiet. More likely, Addison was probably dancing along behind their parents, or still in bed after a night out with her latest boyfriend or girlfriend.
A shard of pain spears her heart. Everly misses those days. She misses her parents, of course, and she misses her estranged sister, but more than that she misses the sense of belonging. Of being part of a family and knowing she could turn to them any moment of any day. Of not questioning herself, or her place, or her value to those around her. Back before everyone she loved left her, when her mom would pull her shoulders straight and always give Everly a quick once over, checking her face, her outfit, how she planned to present herself to the world and nodding with approval. Her thoughts start to turn with slashes of hurt, confusion about who her mom wanted her to be and who she is now, questions about her sister and why they’re so distant from each other.
Everly allows her mind to wander for half a second longer, but it brings up so many tangled emotions, she instinctively shies away. Guilt, shame, confusion, regret… all tightening her throat and compressing her chest until it’s hard to breathe; it’s too overwhelming to dive into, especially with everything else on her plate today. Before the tangle of sad loneliness and residual grief can well up, she shoves it all away, locking it in a mental drawer for later. Some future therapy session when she’s feeling brave and has her life more put together.
Just on time, the party planner and event coordinator arrive to finish setting up the foyer and party area, and promptly direct other staff as they arrive too. This part is much easier for Everly, as she can simply stand back and supervise. Everly greets everyone politely, answering questions and nodding approval as needed.
All the while, she keeps thinking how different this is to when Asim was here setting up. She can’t escape thoughts of him while surrounded by all of these gorgeous flowers. It’s not solely how irresistible he looked, either .
He made her feel seen.
He made her feel beautiful.
And he listened.
He seemed to actually value her opinion rather than simply seeking her stamp of approval, a foreign concept for her. Everly can’t remember a time when someone didn’t want her approval on something, and prior to this morning, she wouldn’t have even known there was a difference in valuing someone’s opinion versus simply wanting their endorsement.
Everly’s mind drifts to the day before, a subtle note of curious wonder flitting through her as mental threads connecting to each other pull her to replay her last therapy session.
“So, Everly,” her therapist, Carrie, begins, her voice coming from the computer speakers clear and strong as they start a video session. “I know you have your parents' party tomorrow and that always brings up a lot for you. How have you been coping with it the last few days?”
Really just diving right into it then. Super.
“I’ve been okay. My anxiety is higher than normal, but I guess that’s to be expected. It feels like a lot of pressure to make sure I do it right and that everything goes perfectly.” Everly cringes and rubs her temple, looking away from the screen.
“What about the party do you think causes you so much distress?” Carrie inquires.
“It’s like I have to be this perfect little socialite that they all expect me to be. But it’s all fake. I’m pretending to fit in, pretending to laugh at their jokes, pretending to be happy to see them. Ugh, pretending I’m comfortable with that crowd is just so draining,” she huffs. Everly doesn’t see why it’s so exhausting still after eight years of practice. She should be used to it by now.
Carrie drums her fingers on her desk before adjusting her glasses, then replies. “Do you remember what we talked about a few weeks ago, Everly, about your values and being your true self?”
Everly slowly nods, unsure of where this is going and whether she’s going to like it .
“Well, I wonder if the reason you feel so emotionally drained interacting with these people every year is because you value honesty and integrity, and by pretending to be someone you are not, you’re not living up to your own values and who you want to be,” Carrie pauses, tilting her head the other way. “What do you think about that idea?”
That sounds… like it makes a lot of sense. It’s understandable that trying to be someone she isn’t would be mentally taxing. Everly isn’t sure what it all means though.
“So, what, am I supposed to just not laugh at their jokes? Tell them they’re being snobby or something?”
Carrie smiles her little, knowing smile and Everly resists the urge to pout like a child. “I see what you’re doing, and no, I’m not telling you to be rude or offensive. But I do think that bringing more authenticity into other areas of your life could help balance out the scales, so to speak. Where else do you think you could focus on being more yourself?”
Everly likes the sound of this much better. “Well I have been thinking about finding a hobby or maybe getting a pet. I just keep having this empty feeling inside and I don’t know how else to fill it.” She already knows what Carrie will say next.
“What else do you think you’re missing? What else could fill that hole?”
Yep, called it. Everly twists her lips in thought. “I suppose I would like to be more social, maybe have more friends.”
Carrie is already nodding. “I think that’s a great start. Let’s try to focus the next few weeks on socializing in an authentic way. This could really help with that feeling of emptiness and is a good way to build up your sense of self. Figure out who you really are and put that person out into the real world.”
It doesn’t get any easier after that. By the end of her therapy session, Everly’s heart and soul feel picked apart and her brain exhausted. Despite that, she does feel a little more hopeful, and maybe even a tiny bit excited to start this journey toward authenticity .
Everly cocks her head and her eyes unfocus as her mind continues to follow this train of thought, connecting dots she hasn’t noticed before.
Growing up, it was always about making the right impression, which then made others want her approval of them as well. Everly questions if she has ever really had any authentic relationships, apart from Frankie who doesn’t care at all what people think of them. Then when her parents died, there were so many arrangements to be made and people needing her signature on one thing after another. Even her staff at the Sioria now, who she thought she had a good relationship with after working together for years, she realizes don’t actually know her and only seek her out when they need her confirmation or support for something. She was only twenty-two and fresh out of college with her business degree when her parents died and left her the mansion and the Sioria Hotel in Stone Ridge, Arizona. Everly hasn’t really tried to bridge the gap with her employees either, though. It’s no wonder she ended up feeling like she’s on her own so much of the time.
This is such a novel revelation that she can’t stop her mind from circling it around and around her head, inspecting and critiquing and questioning it from different angles, and despite this, her anxiety can’t seem to find any fault with it. Again, an unfamiliar experience for Everly, and one she thinks she might like. Is this what Carrie meant by being her authentic self? It’s a bit scary, if she’s being honest. Everly didn’t really know how to do that at first, but she suspects her hours with Asim might have been a start. Could she be more of her real self around others too, like she was with Asim, and is more regularly with Frankie?
Think of them, and they will come.