47 Days #3
She walked down fifty-two steps and threw her motherhood vision board in the dumpster.
She decided she was never again going to vision board a life she did not have.
From then on, she would use vision boards as a reminder to be grateful for what she did have.
She hung her high school vision board on her bedroom wall.
She pulled the couple in front of the beach bonfire off, so it more accurately depicted her current life.
But she tucked it in her nightstand, in case Danny ever contacted her again.
She added a few cutouts that depicted her latest interests: cooking utensils and a small garden bed. In Women’s Health, she found a woman rock climbing—a hobby she technically had not tried yet but felt confident she soon would.
She stepped back and took in her vision board. Her life was good, even without Danny. The more she said it out loud, the more she believed it. She repeated the mantra silently as she was brushing her teeth, putting on pajamas, and falling asleep.
When she opened her eyes, she felt a great deal better. She’d expected to wake up with a thousand pounds on her chest, but there was space in her lungs; she could breathe. She looked at her phone.
There was a text from Danny.
Her heart raced, but she did not feel the same fervent clawing she normally would have.
Danny: I’m not trying to be mysterious. I’m genuinely still processing. I don’t want to make you wait but I still don’t exactly know what to say other than I care about you and your feelings so much and thank you for your patience.
She immediately began reciting the mantra. For the next few days, she said it in the shower, said it on her way to work, and whispered it at work, when she was certain Louisca could not hear her.
“All those things really are true, you know?” Louisca said, tired of pretending he could not hear her.
“I know,” she said, and was surprised by how much she meant it.
She was hurting; she felt like she had lost Danny all over again.
But this time, she did not drown in a dark depression for months.
This time, she did not feel like she needed Danny more than air.
She wanted Danny with every cell in her body, but she did not need him.
She was now able to genuinely reflect on all the wonderful things in her life, and some of those wonderful things were there because of Danny.
He’d shown her she was capable of cooking, having an herb garden, caring about the planet, and meeting her neighbors.
He made her feel so beautiful as she was; his absolute acceptance of her made it easier for her to accept herself.
She wondered if maybe that was the true definition of a soulmate: someone who swoops in and fills you up with so much love, you no longer need them.
Danny was not the other half of Rhea’s soul; he was an entirely separate soul who helped her be a stronger, more complete version of herself. Ironically, because of Danny Beckett, Rhea no longer needed Danny Beckett…but, wow, did she want him.
When she opened her eyes every morning, she craved the sound of his breathing.
When she made a veggie bowl, she wanted to ask him if the sauce needed more rice vinegar.
When she went paddleboarding on the Venice canals, she wanted to point out a particularly eccentric purple and yellow house and ask him, “Can you imagine living there? And inviting people over?” Just little things; so many tiny reasons that added up to an astronomical amount.
The wanting was strongest in the evening, when she would have told him about her day and heard about his.
She missed his opinion, his humor, his teasing.
A relentless ache for him overtook her every time she lay in bed.
Memories of his touch, his smoky smell, the low gravity of his voice, the security of his solid presence, moved through her with a fiery ferocity that made her have to grip her sheets and take deep breaths.
But there was a vast difference between needing a partner and wanting one.
The wanting she could handle; it did not capsize her because now she knew she would always be okay.
She knew she was not broken, not lacking, not half of a person, but a whole, lovely, perfectly flawed woman.
Did this mean she could stop forcing and pressurizing the future?
Stop anxiously eyeing her biological clock, afraid there was a glitch in her divine timing?
Could she trust her life and finally just be Rhea Darby?
—
Rhea got out of her car at Malibu Bluffs Park and struggled with the moon-and-stars balloons crowding her backseat.
She carried them through the parking lot.
A week had passed since she looked into Danny’s eyes; she was proud of herself for how light she felt, and it was not just because she was holding balloons.
She arrived at a picnic table where the Achebe-Miller family was setting up a birthday party for Chichi.
“I love those balloons,” Ada said while spreading out a tablecloth covered in moons. “Thank you so much, Ahree.”
“What do you say, Chichi?” Marcus asked.
“Thank you, Ahree,” Chichi said obligatorily.
“And what are those curved moons called?” Marcus asked, pointing at the balloons.
“Crescent.”
Marcus beamed and looked at Rhea like, Isn’t she something?
When she’d asked Chichi what kind of fifth birthday party she wanted, Ada feared she was going to say, “A doo-doo party!” But thankfully, Chichi had become obsessed with the moon and the idea of building a fort on its surface.
Her parents were relieved; it seemed her fecal phase had finally come to an end.
“Hey, Chichi, why didn’t the moon eat dinner?” Rhea asked.
“Why?” Chichi was already laughing.
“Because it was full.”
Chichi thought about it and cracked up. “You’re funny, Ahree.”
Marcus and Ada looked at each other with immense pride in their creation. Rhea hugged the darling child for less than a second before she squirmed away to show Rhea her moon cake.
Tiny arrived carrying Wolfie in a Bjorn while Jason carried sheets, cardboard boxes, and tent poles—everything Ada had requested.
They were going to build a fort for Chichi on the moonlike surface of Malibu Bluffs Park.
Marcus and Jason began building the fort while discussing the thrilling turn in the Dodgers’ postseason.
The Hornbrook family arrived, also carrying sheets and tent poles; Ada had her heart set on a very large fort for her daughter, and everyone knew better than to argue.
The rest of the guests trickled in, and time sped up as Rhea greeted people, played with Chichi on the jungle gym, and set up an elaborate cheese plate.
Ekele sat near her and demanded she slice some cheese for him.
It was the most he had ever spoken to her; she was honored to be chosen.
“Where’s Uncle Danny?” he asked as he stuffed cheese in his mouth.
“I don’t…know where Uncle Danny is, but he told me to give you this.”
Rhea kissed the top of Ekele’s head, but he seemed unmoved and demanded more cheese.
The fort was built, and thirty people ducked inside. Chichi was beside herself with glee. She and her friends began an elaborate game of moon dwelling as the adults got too hot and ducked back outside.
Rhea poured herself a metal tumbler of white wine, walked over to the cliff’s edge, and watched the waves crash on the coast. She felt a whisper of longing in her chest. She didn’t know if it was for Danny or motherhood or just general human longing; the craving to possess and experience absolutely everything all the time with the dull ache of always having to settle for less than that.
She filled her lungs and exhaled slowly, silently repeating her mantra. She turned around to relish the scene: the joy, the community, the celebration of her precious little Chichi. Her friends were preparing to pose for a photo, and they called for Ahree.