Chapter 7
The Queen of Cups invites you to be vulnerable in your relationships.
CAL
Iwinced at the sound of the door slamming shut and sank into the cushions of my sofa. Carl sensed my distress and put his head in my lap.
What in the world is happening to me? Paul’s second betrayal and now his death have sent me into a tailspin. I can’t do this again.
I dial Marci. She answers and I hear the anger in her voice, “Listen, Missy, how dare…”
I cut her off. “May Day, Marce. I need you now.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
The first thing she says when she walks through my front door is, “Everything’s gonna be OK.” That’s Marci’s mantra. When she sat by my bedside six years ago after my suicide attempt, holding my hand and rocking back and forth, I heard her repeat it over and over. I think she was trying to convince herself as much as offering me comfort.
As she hugs me, she whispers, “You didn’t kill him, right?”
“The police think I did.” When I tell Marci about the visit from a detective and the continuation of questioning tomorrow, she says, “You need an attorney.”
She scrolls through her phone, taps a few keys, and sends a contact to me. “Call Laura. She’s the best.”
I look at my phone. ‘Laura Fuller. Criminal Defense.’ “That’s who the detective recommended. Why do you have the number for a Criminal Defense Attorney?”
“You’d be surprised whose numbers I have in my phone. I cater the best parties in Atlanta.”
She makes me start at the beginning and tell her every detail of the visit from the detective. When I mention his name, she nods.
“I know Danny and Biz well. They eat at Serendipity at least once a week. Danny comes in alone more often. I like him. He’s a good detective. Biz is a little rough around the edges, though.” Marci’s restaurant, Serendipity, is the most popular restaurant in Decatur.
“Who’s Biz?”
“Juanita Bizzell, his partner.”
“His police partner or his partner partner?”
Why do I care?How can I be attracted to this police officer? I have no time or space for a man in my life. Where is this coming from?
“Police partner. I don’t think Biz’s wife would like it if she and Danny were handcuffing each other on the side.”
When I get to the part in my story about “freaking coffee cups,” I am jolted by a memory: I did misplace a cup a few days ago. “Marci, I was with a client when I noticed it missing.”
“This could be important, Cal. Which client took the cup?”
“You know I can’t share any details with you about that.”
“So, change the names and details to protect the innocent. Or maybe, the guilty. Do you realize how weird it is that you notice a cup missing after meeting with a client and that same cup shows up at Paul’s murder scene?”
“It’s not the same cup. I have eight and Paul has…had… eight.”
Marci stares at me expectantly.
“OK, so this client, I’ll call her ‘Mary,’ had an appointment on Thursday.”
“Three days ago. The same day Paul was killed.”
“Right, so I did my usual thing, check in with the client, how did her week go. Mary is a new client, so I explained how my brand of life coaching works. I always explain why I see clients as a Life Coach, not a psychotherapist, because I use non-traditional methods that are not allowed in clinical therapy.
Marci interrupts. “Yeah, yeah. Get to the missing cup.”
“Mary talked about her ex-boyfriend who betrayed her, and she is feeling stuck and angry because she can’t get over him.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Yeah, it did. Sometimes when a client’s situation mirrors my own, I must be extra careful to maintain the focus on their healing journey.
“I did a Tarot reading, which now that I think about it, was an odd one. It was the Seven of Swords. It warns about deception and lying. Everything not being as it seems. I told her the meaning of this card and her face turned really dark with anger. Her whole countenance changed. It’s like she became a different person.”
“Demonic spirit?”
“We don’t believe in those. But it did occur to me that something like Dissociative Identity Disorder is a possibility.
“Then she switched gears completely and started to cry and acted the complete victim. It was a disconcerting session. She is the first client that I’ve never connected with on any level. Before she left, she pulled a little plastic bag out of her purse with a rock in it. Nuummite. A very magical stone. I’ve been looking for one for a while.
“Anyway, when she handed it to me, I noticed she had bandages on three of her fingers and thumb. She said she burned herself on a hot pan. So, I go get some Lavender Oil for her burns. I’m gone about 5 minutes. I gave her the oil and told her to rub it on at night and in the morning.”
“Yes, Plant Witch, I know all about the magic in your essential oils. Stay focused on the demon client.”
“After Mary leaves, I go into the kitchen to wash up our cups and there is only one cup on the table where I was sitting. There is no cup at Mary’s place. While I’m looking for it, another client calls to schedule an appointment. I simply forgot about it until now.”
“Tomorrow, you need to tell Danny about ‘Mary’ and the missing cup.”
“I prefer that I never see Detective Chan again. He’s the first man I’ve felt any attraction to since Paul. It felt too vulnerable. He makes me very uncomfortable.”
Marci rolls her eyes, “Yes, because God forbid you are attracted to a decent man.”
“I don’t think my heart can take another betrayal. Besides, I like being single.”
Marci gives me the side-eye. “You just like being in charge. Anyway, I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Danny. He is a strictly-by-the-book detective. He would not pursue anything romantic with a suspect.”
She pats me on the arm and repeats her mantra. “Everything is gonna be OK. What are the life mottos you plaster all over your books? What should be, will be. There is no good, there is no bad, there are only teachers. This will all work out, honey. Me ‘n the Universe have your back. Call Laura now. I’ll rustle us up some dinner.”
Marci dials my phone and hands it to me. As soon as Laura answered, I burst into tears. The pent-up fear and frustration over Paul’s betrayal and death, and now being a suspect in his murder are more than I can take. The woman on the other end of the phone waits patiently until I can catch my breath and explain my predicament.
“Give me your address. I’ll be at your house at 8:00 tomorrow morning.”
Marci is right. What should be, will be. There are no obstacles in our path; the obstacles ARE the path. It is time to practice what I teach.