Chapter 13 #2
The room erupts in laughter that suggests several women have considered that exact scenario.
Then it quickly settles into expectant silence, punctuated only by the gentle clink of forks against china and the soft sigh of someone experiencing what might be a religious moment with their sea foam mousse—or possibly a mild heart attack from sugar overload.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking,” Jazz continues, taking a theatrical sip from her own specially crafted cocktail that’s probably stronger than ship security—and that’s saying a lot coming from me.
“Dr. Stone, I’m on a cruise ship. I’ve already had two mimosas before noon, and I’m wearing my best push-up bra—isn’t that expanding my horizons enough? ”
Knowing laughter ripples through the crowd like waves hitting the shore, except these waves are made of middle-aged women who’ve clearly been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt in multiple colors.
“But I’m here to tell you that love, real love, doesn’t have to fit into the neat little boxes society has constructed for us—boxes that are probably too small, poorly labeled, and definitely not big enough for all our emotional baggage.
How many of you have been told that jealousy is love?
That possessiveness equals passion? That if you truly love someone, you should be everything to them—lover, best friend, therapist, adventure buddy, intellectual equal—personal cheerleader—basically a one-woman entertainment complex with no vacation days? ”
More laughter, this time with an edge of recognition that makes me slightly uncomfortable and definitely makes me want more chocolate.
“Well, what if I told you that some of the happiest, most fulfilled couples I know have learned to share the load? Not just household chores, ladies—though let’s be honest, that would be revolutionary enough—I’m talking about sharing the beautiful burden of being someone’s everything, because frankly, that’s a job that requires a team and probably hazard pay. ”
She pauses, letting her words sink in like expensive perfume into silk. And I bet half these women feel as if they’ve been doing relationships wrong their entire adult life.
“What if love didn’t have to be about ownership?
What if it could be about abundance instead of scarcity?
What if the secret to keeping your partner happy wasn’t about being everything they need, but about giving them permission to find different types of fulfillment in different places—and maybe getting some fulfillment yourself in the process? ”
I glance at Candy, who’s nodding along like Jazz is explaining the secrets of the universe instead of what sounds suspiciously like relationship anarchy with a Ph.D. and a really good marketing team.
“Now, I’m not talking about cheating,” Jazz continues, her voice taking on the warm, reassuring tone of someone selling something that sounds too good to be true, and probably involves a timeshare presentation later.
“Cheating implies deception, lies, betrayal—all those messy emotions that make for good soap operas but terrible life choices. I’m talking about conscious decisions.
Ethical decisions. Open communication about desires and boundaries that doesn’t involve screaming, crying, or threatening to burn someone’s golf clubs. ”
The temperature in the room seems to rise, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just from all the body heat generated by a hundred women leaning forward in their seats.
“I’m talking about the freedom to love without fear, to explore without guilt, to grow without limitations.
” Jazz’s voice drops to an intimate whisper that somehow carries to every corner of the room.
“Ladies, what if I told you that the most revolutionary thing you could do for your relationship is to stop trying to be your partner’s everything—and start giving them permission to find their everything in a community of loving, supportive people? ”
The silence that follows is thick enough to slice with a dessert fork and serve with whipped cream. Actually, that does sound delicious. I’m getting hungry again.
“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Jazz says with a knowing smile that suggests she’s just planted seeds that are going to grow into something potentially life-changing or completely catastrophic, depending on your perspective.
“Let’s start with some basics about communication and boundary setting.
Because whether you’re in a traditional monogamous relationship—bless your committed hearts—or exploring more.
.. flexible arrangements that require color-coded calendars and possibly a very understanding therapist, the foundation is always the same, honest communication and mutual respect. ”
As women around us start nodding and murmuring agreement, I realize I’ve just stepped into something far more complex than a simple relationship seminar.
The pieces of Dr. Lavender Voss’s murder are starting to arrange themselves into a pattern I don’t particularly like, and that pattern involves people who think sharing partners is as normal as sharing dessert recipes.
“Ladies, let’s take a fifteen-minute break for refreshments and reflection,” Jazz announces, and the women immediately swarm the dessert buffet like designer-dressed locusts with excellent taste in pastries and questionable taste in relationship advice.
When you’re dealing with swingers, murderers, and chocolate truffles that crack open to reveal liquid centers, someone is definitely about to get more than they bargained for—and I have a sinking suspicion it’s going to be me, along with my blood sugar levels and my faith in traditional relationship structures.