Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
ELEVEN DAYS AFTER
We don’t immediately get to the bucket list, because a shaman is coming to my apartment.
Lupe found Doug on a website. Which possibly accounts for why he arrived ten minutes late, looking like the lone survivor of a postapocalyptic wasteland with his sun-bleached dreadlocks, wool poncho, cowboy boots, and a faded JanSport backpack.
He’s singing a country song as he sets candles around my living room while Rafael and Lupe crowd beside an armchair, close enough that I can hear them whispering (or rather, whisper-yelling).
“He doesn’t look like a shaman,” Rafael says, the muscle in his cheek vibrating with frustration. “Where did you find him?”
Lupe, dressed in jean shorts and a Barbie tee, shrugs. “Website. One with reviews.”
“Did Doug score above a point-five?”
“Three-point-five, and most points were knocked off for … odor.” Lupe lowers her voice saying the last part.
Rafael visibly cringes, then curses. “I should have done it myself.”
“Don’t judge a book by its cover, primo.”
Doug pauses, throwing a thumbs-up in their direction. “Good energy, fam,” he says. I can’t help but laugh at his totally inaccurate assessment about what’s happening on this side of my living room.
Rafael scowls at his cousin, but Lupe’s unbothered, watching Doug as he finishes with the candles and lights up incense, coaxing the smoke with his hand.
“You sure that’s allowed in a multi-residential building?” Rafael eyes the candles warily.
Lupe glares at him and tuts. “Allowances are made for religious folks.”
“Religio—” Rafael cuts a gaze up to the ceiling and mutters a string of Spanish. Lupe elbows him in the ribs when Doug looks at them.
“All right, now the incense is burning … and we can get started,” he says.
“How does this work, Doug?” Lupe gestures to the coffee table, where a makeshift shrine has been set up. A photo of me on my first day at Media Lab. My planner. My favorite sneakers. And a vinyl of ABBA’s greatest hits.
Rafael finds my eyes and whispers, “I’m sorry—I didn’t think she’d find some guy on Craigslist.”
“I mean, it could be worse,” I say as Doug scratches at his clumps of hair, which has been chopped to different lengths. “He could be naked.”
Rafael’s frown splits into a small smile. “I’ll make Lupe get him out of here.”
“No, you won’t,” Lupe says without sparing Rafael a glance.
“All right, fam, I will need silence.” Doug’s voice becomes quieter.
Incense wafts into the air, and I wonder how long it will be until a smoke alarm goes off.
“Come closer.” Doug’s looking at Rafael.
The way his jaw twitches tells me he’s moved from level-four my-blood-pressure-is-spiking to level-six someone- get-my-blood-pressure-pills.
Rafael reluctantly inches forward, his eyes connecting with mine.
It’s as if time slows, long enough for me to notice the flecks of gold in his dark irises, the fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and around his full lips, lips which were only inches from mine last night.
I warm at the memory—how he wanted me to promise him a kiss and how utterly and irrefutably I regret not saying yes.
I watch him as he joins Lupe and Doug around the table, feeling thirsty for something I shouldn’t want.
Yet I can’t help but wonder … what if I’d said yes?
What if after this was all said and done—and we found a way to fix me—I asked for that kiss and it wasn’t a joke?
What if I had a chance to answer a question I only started asking?
“So, what’s next? Do we hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’?” Rafael asks. He earns a belly laugh from Doug.
“You’re a funny man, my man, but there will be no singing,” Doug says. “All I ask is that you keep silent as I attempt to connect with the energy around us and see if I can find hers.”
Energy? Rafael mouths to Lupe, his eyes wide with irritation.
Lupe swats at his shoulder. “Shhhh!”
All eyes are on Doug. He’s lit enough candles to hold a séance, which I suppose would be appropriate. If I were dead.
“Spirit of Evie …” Doug says, his eyes closed and hands crisscrossing over the table. “It is I, Doug, and I ask you to kindly give me a sign that you’re still tied to this place.” The room is quiet. “Don’t be afraid.”
Doug’s lips move, and his face pinches in concentration.
Thump, thump, thump.
The incense makes my headache suddenly intense. A wave of nausea follows.
“I’m getting something, fam,” Doug says, his eyes still closed.
Thump, thump, thump.
“Tell us,” Lupe says, leaning in, almost as if she’s buying it.
Doug shimmies and shakes invisible maracas. “She’s a sassy one, this one.” I think he means skeptical. “But I like a woman with a personality.”
“All right, I think we’ve heard enough …” Rafael leans over to blow out a candle.
Lupe grabs his arm and tugs him back. “Stay.”
“Hmmm. There’s more,” Doug mumbles. “She’s a tough one to read. Sassy and stubborn.”
“Are you sure you’re not talking about Lupe?” Rafael glares at his cousin, who digs her fingers into his arm. “Ah! Mierda!”
“No, no, fam. This is different.” Doug is oblivious to the bickering cousins.
“There’s some strong energy keeping me from fully accessing her energy.
” His face crinkles in confusion. “It’s almost like there’s another energy, something bigger and stronger.
It’s shared between two people in this room.
” Doug shakes his head. “It makes it tough for me to full access hers.”
“When you say shared energy, do you mean cousin-to-cousin stuff?” Lupe asks. Rafael tries to pull away, but she digs her fingers in. He winces and stays put.
Doug frowns. “Could be … but it’s almost like this energy is giving me romantic vibes. That’s not to say—different strokes for different folks, fam, so if you’re into—”
“No!” both Rafael and Lupe shout, startling Doug and me.
“Sorry, fam, didn’t mean to offend,” Doug says, turning back to the shrine. “It’s crazy. This energy is almost all-consuming in its intensity, and it goes way back. Like it’s built up over the years.”
He could be talking about Rafael and me. We’ve definitely shared plenty of all-consuming, intense feelings over the years. Nothing I would call romantic. Not even close.
The warmth and fullness I’ve felt these last few days, though, would disagree. My gaze gravitates to Rafael’s back, the T-shirt clinging to his lean muscles like a second skin. An answering throb in my chest convinces me that this is a symptom of my condition and not being fully myself these days.
As if he can feel my gaze, Rafael’s eyes drift to me. My stomach somersaults at the way he checks in—like to make sure I’m okay. I swallow past the embarrassment at having been caught staring and shoot him a thumbs-up. Everything is fine, it says. Totally and completely fine.
“Lots of good energy here, and that energy is strong enough to keep her here.” Doug’s eyes snap open. “In other words, don’t lose hope, fam, because she’s hanging on.”
Lupe drops her hand from Rafael’s arm. “Good! Did you hear that, primo?”
“When I can think past the pain,” Rafael says, rubbing his arm.
“All will be well, my man,” Doug offers, beginning to blow out the candles. He tosses them back into his backpack as he goes. “Sometimes, if you believe it’ll happen, it will.”
“I believe this was a mistake,” Rafael hisses in his cousin’s ear.
“Don’t be a cranky pendejo, Raffi,” Lupe chides. A vein throbs along the length of Rafael’s neck.
When he turns to me, his grin is apologetic. “I’m sorry for putting you through that. Lupe is going to pay for it,” he assures me.
I think of how she gets under his skin, and I shrug. “Lupe’s doing great.”
Rafael’s eyes widen. “Were you not here for the last ten minutes?”
“Technically, no.”
“That’s not what—”
“It’s cool that you’re talking to her, my man,” Doug says, appearing beside Rafael. Rafael tenses immediately. “Lean into that connection. That bond is special, and it can bring her back.”
I bite back another smile as Rafael’s jaw clenches. He spins around to face Doug, who is unbothered and unaware that Rafael has glided into level-seven someone-give-this-man-a-joint territory (which—not to judge a book by its cover—I’m convinced Doug would readily supply Rafael).
Doug holds up a card. “Here, call me anytime.”
Rafael eyes the card like it’s lit on fire. “You’re a psychic?”
Lupe snatches it from Doug’s hand like she’s confiscating contraband.
“Thanks, Doug! This was great. Super helpful.” She purposely ignores Rafael’s death glare as she wedges herself between the two men and begins to rifle through her purse.
“Now, let’s get this man paid.” She tugs out a wallet and hands Doug several bills. “This should do it.”
He shoves them into his pocket without counting. “Right on, fam,” he says, bringing his hands together. “Thank you for allowing me to be part of your journey.” He glances at my shrine. “And hers.”
“Thank you, Doug. I’ll see you out,” Lupe says, escorting him out of my apartment with a pointed look in Rafael’s direction. Oblivious, Doug looks back.
I catch his gaze—it snags on mine—and he winks. Right. At. Me.
Lupe tugs him out the door before I can process it. My mouth hangs open as I watch the door shut behind them. Ohmygod.
“I didn’t think that was going to be such a dumpster fire. I’m sorry,” Rafael says, shaking his head in dismay. “Lupe can be so … disconnected … sometimes, but it’s from a good place.”
I nod, speechless. I think Doug saw me … or maybe I imagined it.
“Hey, you okay?” Rafael asks.
“Uh. Yeah.” I shake off the preposterous notion. If Doug saw me, that would mean he isn’t a phony, that he wasn’t messing around, that he was maybe telling us the truth. I rewind the last fifteen minutes.
What was it he said?
Something about strong energies keeping me here?
Romantic energies—is that what I’m putting out into the energy-verse?
Oh God.
Am I into Rafael?
No. I can’t be. I mean, am I a little distracted by his dimple and smiles? Yes. Do his hands do something to my imagination? Also yes. Would I like for them to do something to me? Certainly.
Okay, so it’s lust. I’m lusting for Rafael, my archnemesis, the person I’ve imagined in various states of begging on his knees for my forgiveness and for my help. And now, when I imagine him on his knees—
“Evie.” Rafael’s concerned voice jerks my attention from the deepest recesses of hell.
Fire licks up my face, and I press a hand to a cheek.
His features crinkle in concern. “You sure you’re okay?”
I nod, my throat too parched to talk.
“Are you sure? You look a little flushed,” he says, and his hand moves through the air as if he wants to make sure. It stalls between us. I stare at his hand, the one that could easily knead away all kinds of aches.
“Oh,” I croak. “Must be all the candles.”
His frown remains as his hand drops.
I find myself missing a touch that hasn’t happened.
Rafael sighs. “I’m sorry about Doug. I’ll make sure to leave a review.” He digs his hands into his pockets. “But enough about Doug. Let’s get to that bucket list, shall we?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” I say, my voice a little breathy.