Chapter 1: Restful Power

"You can't do it all yourself." My mother scolded as she rubbed the Aspercream into my aching lower back.

"Sure I can." I replied stubbornly, my assurance muffled by the dusty-smelling burgundy throw pillow my face was currently buried in.

"Yeah. That's why I'm rubbing ointment on your lower back for the third time this week."

I could hear her blue eyes rolling into the back of her head. I turned my face, allowing my cheek to rest on the embroidered surface of the fringed pillow. "Hush you!" I demanded with a smile.

"Baby, you know I love you and I'm so very proud of you, but don't you think it's time you get some help? Business has been great, and it wouldn't have to be a full time assistant, but you're not as young as you-"

"Sssp!" I hissed, jolting upright and turning to face her. "Don't you dare finish that sentence! I'm only as old as I feel!" I argued like a petulant child.

She smiled mischievously. "And exactly how old would someone have to feel to need ointment rubbed on their back and ice packs on their swollen ankles?"

"Hag." I grumped.

She laughed boisterously – it was my favorite sound in the world.

But I didn't like that she had a point.

I had found my calling as a Wedding Planner later in life. I was 35 before I started taking online courses and studying the craft, nearing 37 when I started my business and it took me three years to build it to the point I was at now. I still hadn't reached the success I truly wanted; the kind of success that I felt warranted hiring others. However, I couldn't deny that the aches and pains were beginning to slow me down and hindering me from accepting more clientele. If I couldn't handle my current workload, how was I supposed to take on even more?

Maybe she was right – maybe I could just pay someone for the day of?

It was something to think about.

I joined mom and dad for some keto meatballs with spaghetti squash – mom was trying to sneak healthy food into dad's diet - before kissing and hugging them each goodbye and making my way home.

I was afraid to wash off the ointment too soon and, honestly, I was still exhausted from yesterday's wedding, so I just changed into my comfortable, ratty lavender nightshirt, took some ibuprofen and crawled between the sheets. Something made my leg itch, so I scratched at it, noting the long stubble on my shin.

When was the last time I'd shaved? It had to be four...no...five days ago?

I shook my head in shame and self-loathing.

I didn't worry about it often – I was opposed to wearing shorts and skirts due to my ghost-white legs – and it wasn't like I had anyone at home I needed to worry about impressing. Plus, it wasn't unusual for my own personal well-being to go by the wayside in the week leading up to an event. But still, I didn't want to be able to French-braid my leg hair, so I made a mental note to shave when I showered the next morning.

As exhausted as I was, sleep was elusive. I grabbed my little Samsung phone and flipped through my apps till I found the glimpse of red and white I was looking for, tapping it promptly. I knew exactly what I wanted to listen to and it didn't take too long to find it, as it had become my go-to.

I pressed play on the video and allowed the soothing sounds of "Manifest Your Dream Life" to fill the air, putting the volume up loud enough to drown out my creaky ceiling fan.

"You are the creator of your reality and you have the power to manifest the life of your dreams..." the meditation began in a calming, feminine voice. I settled further under the sheets, fanning my hair out over my pillow before laying on my back with my arms stretched out by my side, just as I knew the meditation would ask of me.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, inhaling the lavender scent of the plug-in low and deep into my belly and exhaling long and slow.

"Listen to this and you will manifest a very blessed life."

I imagined drawing in pure, positive, cleansing energy and exhaling old, stale, negative energy with each breath and focused on relaxing my body from head to toe, releasing my aches and pains into the void.

I shifted a little bit and a sharp pain shot up my spine.

Well, so much for that.

My brain took a head-dive into a bramble of messy thoughts.

You're not as young as you- My mother's voice replayed in my head.

I still felt youthful.

It was true that the only way I was feeling my age was in the way my body ached after a long day of work, or the way my knees creaked as I walked up the three steps to my apartment. Aside from that, the only time I really felt forty was in the brief conversations I had with teenagers and twenty-somethings, when my pop-culture references went right over their teeny-bopper heads.

I rolled my eyes at the term "teeny-boppers" – only grandpas use that term these days!

Shit, "these days"? I may as well buy some dentures and start eating dinner at four pm.

I sat up, pulled my phone from the charger and started to type...

"You up?" I began but – as usual – Alice beat me to the punch.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" The little fortune teller texted.

I sighed. Alice was very spiritual and into mysticism, but she seemed to be more in tune with me than anyone else, with the exception of her husband.

"Can't sleep." I typed. "Overthinking."

I hit send.

The phone rang an instant later and her lilting voice was on the other end.

"Did you try meditating?" She asked by means of a greeting.

"Yep. Have my calming lavender plugged in, too." I replied, yawning aggressively.

"Okay, the universe wants you to deal with this now, apparently. Let's work through it. What's on your mind?" She prompted.

I could hear Jazz snoring softly in the background, followed by the sounds of her shuffling her tarot deck.

I knew better than to argue with her that it was too late for a reading and that I could really just work through this myself. She was little, but fierce.

"Mom thinks I should hire an assistant." I explained.

"And you think you can do it all on your own, and that you can't afford to hire anyone right now. Is that correct?"

See, she could read me like an open book.

"Pretty much."

Knowing what to expect, I listened to her shuffle a couple of more times before my gut told me to tell her to stop.

"So we need to see what the Universe has in store for you when it comes to this assistant - you got it! Now, let's see...Oh no!"

"What?!" I panicked, wondering what the cards had in store for me.

"No worries – one card jumped out of the deck, but it flew under the bed. Just give me a second to retrieve it.

I sighed in relief, realizing I had come to take her readings way too seriously.

"Okay, got it." She grew silent. "It's the Wheel of Fortune. Interesting. Let's pull the rest of your cards and see how this one plays in."

The silence continued as I imagined her biting her lip in concentration, her onyx hair disheveled as she focused on the cards she pulled. I could hear her making little "um-hm" noises along the way, or drawling out a "hmmmm" when something intrigued her.

I grew anxious but stayed silent, as I had memorized her process long ago.

"Okay Bells, you want the long or short of it?"

I thought it over and realized I was too tired for the long version. Besides, I knew if I requested the shorter reading, I'd have a full page e-mail the next day with the details and pictures of the accompanying cards – as if seeing the cards somehow helped me to understand them. "Short answer, please."

"Do it." That was all she said, but it was enough.

And, it's crazy, but my body relaxed instantly at her instructions and I was overcome with drowsiness.

I had trepidations when Ali first started practicing Tarot a year ago, allowing her to read for me out of pure curiosity.

She had warned against not taking the cards seriously and I hadn't listened. Boy, did that backfire.

Since then, I had definitely taken to listening to her sage advice, and it had worked for the better. It was oddly liberating putting the weight of difficult decisions on the strong, capable shoulders of the Universe.

Thankfully, I felt that freedom tonight as my mind settled and my body grew heavy.

"Get some sleep, Bella. I'll send an e-mail in the morning."

"Thanks Ali. You too. Sweet dreams." I answered, a yawn punctuating each sentence.

She laughed on the other end of the line – a tinkling sound that made me smile.

"Glad to be of service." She chirped before I heard the line click.

I plugged my phone back into the charger and once again played the sleep meditation video before snuggling back under the down comforter. I watched the pretty images of the video shift and change only momentarily before succumbing to its restful powers.