8
Lucas dumped himself into bed after three in the morning. He'd dozed for a little while in the car, watching Jules' window from the parking lot of the hotel, but when the lights had gone off inside after two, he'd waited another 20 minutes and then headed home. They were supposed to meet together later that morning at ten.
He'd actually slept. Not long, and not deeply, but it was something.
Lucas rolled out of bed at nine and made some instant coffee for himself. This morning he tried it with a little milk from a fresh quart he'd brought in the day before. Not so bad with the milk this way. Then, he'd showered and dressed in some fresh clothes. Everything, including his hair, stank of cigarette smoke from the bar last night. He'd had to hang his clothes outside in the air all night to get rid of the smell.
Sipped his coffee and stared.
Lucas thought he might have dreamed about her last night. Couldn't quite get it all back in again to recall what'd happened. Gonna be interesting to see her today.
Just before ten, he was standing in front of the desk outside that same office where they'd met the first time. No one was there outside, and he tried the door. Locked. He perched on the corner of the desk, one leg dangling, and just as he'd started to glance at his watch, Jules came walking down the hall. She looked fresh and put-together.
"Hey, Lucas," she said, and then tried the door. Locked. She turned around and looked down the hallway. No one was around, and she didn't have a number to call for assistance, she said.
"What do you think about going somewhere else?"
"Your place? My place?" he said, half-grinning, watching her expression.
"I'm in a hotel. They'll be coming through to reset the room so probably not the best choice. A diner is too public and, besides, I need a bed or someplace where you can lay down." No hint of anything untoward in her eyes. Just matter-of-fact, like always.
"My place then," and his pulse started to pick up. He offered to drive, but she told him she'd follow him over.
"Don't trust me?" he chided, but she turned toward him with clear eyes, shaking her head.
"I have something after this, and I'll need my car." Didn't know if he was good with it – that she didn't seem to be worried at all. Must be losing his touch.
He gave her the directions in case they got separated and then they left together. Jules drove a rental, something tan and non-descript. She kept up behind him, and they arrived a short time later in front of his house.
It smelled like his shower soap inside, and she stepped in, glancing around.
"Anyone else here?" she asked.
"Nope. Just us." He watched her reaction again. Nothing that gave him any indication she felt nervous, alone there with him. He was certainly on alert, though, himself.
"Coffee? I've just got instant, but it's drinkable if you aren't too fussy," he said.
"Maybe just some water, with ice if you have it." He ran the water in the sink for a minute while he grabbed a tumbler out of one of the cabinets and fished for ice in the freezer. The day was already heating up out there. He went back and grabbed another one for himself, and then filled both glasses. She tipped hers toward him like a salute and then they both took a long drink.
"That's good, thanks."
He nodded, and then she headed through the kitchen with her glass.
"Where can we work?" He pointed ahead and they moved into the dining room, then to the right to the living room. His couch was sitting there, a sectional shaped like an L.
"Can that work?" he asked.
"Mmm, that's perfect for today." She started walking into the room and stopped. "Wow, these floors are gorgeous! They're originals, right? And not a scratch on them." He smiled. Maybe he'd tell her the story one of these days.
They went over and sat on the couch, each one on a different leg of the L. Jules glanced over at his hand.
"How's the hand doing?"
"You know, I didn't even notice anything hurting at all. So, it must be better."
"Great, glad to hear. It might need another treatment or two over the next week or so. We generally try to see how it does on its own. We have a saying: Find it, fix it, and leave it alone. Lucas repeated it to himself out loud, and then grinned.
"I like it. Different approach than the regular medical industrial complex. Once they have you in their clutches, it's all downhill and you can never get away." Jules chuckled and leaned back against the back of the couch, settling in.
"OK, so if you recall our last session, we were about to go over that last case of yours. I just wanted to get a feel for what that entailed, from your point of view."
His face fell, and he felt it go. Jesus! This wasn't what he was expecting.
He took another long sip of his ice water. His pulse had picked up again, and he felt suddenly flushed and warm. He wanted to stand up and move around. It felt like it was a little harder to breathe all of a sudden, and his hand dropped down to his chest. Then his pulse jumped to a pounding feeling under his hand.
"What's going on, Lucas?" He barely heard her, and then he found himself standing, pulling off his jacket and tossing it on the couch, opening his collar wider. He'd started sweating.
"Lucas?" she said softly, leaning forward at the edge of the couch.
"I – I – don't – "
She was up in front of him then, her hand on his arm, but he barely noticed her there. Flooded with sensations: pounding heart, swimmy feeling in his head, and a buzzing sensation everywhere in his body. His breathing was fast and yet he couldn't catch his breath. He wanted to run.
"Look at me, Lucas." She had to repeat it twice more before he heard her. She'd grabbed onto his hands, and he was leaning forward to try and catch his breath. She sat him down and kneeled in front of him. He gripped her hands, and she started talking, her voice low and slow, just talking. He was gonna be alright. This was gonna pass, and he'd be alright. Slow down his breathing. Slower. A little slower.
Lucas focused on the sound of her voice. He held her hands in his, and he was sure he was squeezing hers. She counted with him, 1-2-3 count for the inhale, then 1-2-3-4-5 for the exhale. After a couple of rounds of that, he felt it starting to work.
He'd re-focused on his breathing then, and it seemed to be getting better, into a pattern that felt good to him again.
Lucas took over the breathing himself then, and she saw him doing it. He was coming out of it now, she said. Almost over, and he was gonna be alright in a minute or two. Kept his mind on his breathing, and his hands on hers.
Felt shaky inside.
"I'm gonna move you, Lucas. Go with me," and she had him move to the long leg of the couch, with his feet against the arm-rest, knees bent, and his head at the other end, resting on her leg, bent underneath his head. She'd turned to face him with his head in her hands, one leg off the front of the couch resting on the floor, and the other bent and cradling his head under her hands. Her palms were on his skull in the back.
Even that felt like it was doing something. His breath came easier, and his heart had slowed and didn't pound anymore.
"Let your eyes close if you like, Lucas, and keep going with the breathing, like you were doing before."
He felt her hands under his head, and he focused on that and on her voice. He let his eyelids drift down. It was easier to focus on his breath then, and soon her voice was just something in the background. He heard the sound but not the words, and he was okay with that. He didn't need to know the words. Just let the sound of her voice wash over him. A wisp of sound collecting inside.
The sound settled him, like riding a river of calm. The pounding in his chest had stopped now, and the buzzing feeling was less, like bleeding off of him, slowly. She transferred his head over to her left hand, and moved her right down further, so her palm was sitting directly under his spine at the back of his neck. She closed her own eyes then and took a couple of centering breaths for herself.
Then, inside, she let an Intention form in her mind – a thought. And as it formed, Jules imagined a wave of light moving out in ripples away from her thought and down through her hands, jumping the gap to the back of his head and neck. Lucas could feel a heat rising in her hands, on his skin. How did she do that?
Her hands shifted, and then her fingertips started pressing on his neck. Every once in a while, she'd find a spot where a pain started to ratchet up in a hurry, but she'd back off the pressure right away, as if she'd known by the feel what it was. He felt her move his head around, tip it, turn it, bend his neck to the sides. Like she was testing something. Then, finally, she'd hold it there, in the same place, like she'd done with his hand.
Little by little, he relaxed into it. Calmer, almost empty inside. Even breath, even pulse, barely noticeable now. He felt like he was drifting along. Then nothing.
He could feel before he could hear. A slant of sunlight across his chest and his face, warm on him now. Remembered being in a garden somewhere, lying on his back on the ground, with the smell of grass and the trees – honeysuckle, lilac – and Elle was there. Watching the shapes of the clouds going by. That one had a face with the nose over there, see? She'd giggled and pointed to another. What about that one? The sun had filtered through the trees, dappled and soft on them. And the breeze, just enough to wiggle the branches and stir the grass at their sides.
He almost didn't want to give it up and open his eyes.
When he did, Jules was still there, at his head. With her hands under his skull, and her eyes half-closed, like far away, meditating. She leaned forward, and her lips moved, a whisper of words he couldn't hear. And then she sat up, took a breath and let it go.
Lucas watched until she'd opened her eyes, and then he sat up.
"Whoa. That was weird." He looked around as if to see if he was still there in the same place.