April's Glow (17 page)

But, that didn't change the fact that not a day went by without him thinking of her. Craving her. It was made more difficult by the fact they were next-door neighbours, but even when she was busy and he was occupied and they barely spoke, he still thought of her. Her pretty face was like the sun, greeting him each morning, and the sound of her voice and laugh were his bedtime lullaby. She was the bookends of his days, the support that held him together and kept him going.

She put the hose back on its reel, and a colourful bird came and sat on the birdbath, leaning over to drink from the fresh water. She eyed Zac with a curious expression.

‘What is it?' he asked.

‘Nothing,' she flicked her hand.

‘Bull. I can see the words clambering to get out of your mouth.'

She opened her mouth as her lips stretched into a smile. ‘Did you, like, go to rehab or anything? To help you get off the alcohol?' she asked. ‘Just wondering, that's all. You don't have to answer.'

‘My rehab was in here,' he replied, tapping his head, then his heart. ‘And in here.'

Her brow furrowed.

‘Mind, heart, and soul,' he said. ‘Get those right, and the body will follow.'

‘Yeah, I get that you're all new-agey and stuff, but how, like
how
, did you do it?'

This could take a while. In fact, he had thought that maybe he should write about how he had succeeded in making the transition to becoming sober. He hadn't mentioned the alcoholism on his blog. Yet. Didn't know if he ever would. But maybe he should, if it could help others. He sat on the wooden boards of his deck. ‘Come here and I'll tell you a bit about it.'

She crossed her arms.

Here we go, defence mode again.

She would say something like, ‘Oh, I'm busy, have to go check Facebook', or, ‘I should go check on my employees, even though it's my day off'. But she said, ‘You come here for once, lazy bum.'

Zac stood. ‘You're inviting me over?'

‘To my backyard. You can jump over the fence, if you've got the strength. Or take the easy way and go around the side gate.' She eyed him with a challenging stare.

His arms ached from the intense upper body workout he'd done this morning, but he'd be fine. He gripped his hands on the top of the fence, lifted himself up, and swung one leg, and then the other, over it. Romeo stopped chasing some bug on the ground to look up at the intruder. His eyes went wide, as though thinking, ‘that's normally what
I
do, you silly human.'

‘Water?' April bent down and lifted the end of the hose.

Zac opened his mouth and she laughed. ‘I should totally turn this on,' she said.

‘You won't. It's too cold. And you'll waste water. They have rules for that, you know.'

‘Since when are you interested in rules?'

‘In that case…' He walked towards her and took the hose from her, then quickly turned on the tap and sprayed her with water. Her mouth opened wide and she blinked rapidly.

‘Hey!' She tried to grab the hose from him. ‘It's freezing!'

‘Told you.'

She gripped the hose and twisted it to face upwards at him, despite being unable to remove it from his own grip.

Water splashed his face and he laughed. He twisted the hose back to her and she squealed as droplets wet her hair, then reached down and turned off the water flow.

‘It's a good thing I don't have to go back to work,' she said. ‘I'd have to redo my hair and make-up and that could take a while.' She whacked him on the arm. ‘Let's step away from the hose, shall we?'

‘Ladies first,' Zac said, holding out his arm but standing close to the hose.

‘Um, no,' she said. ‘Guests first.'

‘Fair enough.' He held up his palms and walked over to her deck and sat on one of the chairs around the table.

‘Coffee?' she asked, stepping up onto the deck too.

‘Sure.' He didn't have much caffeine, his mind was alert and wired as it was, but it was early in the day.

April brought out two mugs a few minutes later and placed them on the table.

Zac took a sip and the liquid warmed his throat. ‘So, how did I do it? Meditation was one of my strategies.'

‘Sitting still and chanting?'

‘No, sitting still and being calmly aware and present.'

‘Wouldn't that make you bored and more likely to want to go and … you know, grab something to deal with boredom?'

‘The opposite, actually. Once you get the hang of it. Makes you realise that each breath you take is enough. That in that moment, you don't need anything.'

Her brow creased as she looked into the distance. ‘Hmm, I guess that kind of makes sense.'

‘Try it,' he said.

‘One day.'

‘No, right now.' He moved his chair closer to her. ‘I'll help.'

‘I can't meditate right now, right here in front of you.' She took a long sip of her coffee. ‘I'll feel like an idiot.'

‘Then I'll do it with you,' he replied. ‘Five minutes, how about that? Can't be as challenging as the eye-gazing exercise. We can close our eyes for this one.'

‘How do I know you're not going to keep your eyes open and film me with my eyes closed and then put me all over the internet—
Tarrin's Bay candle store owner tries to meditate, it's hilarious, check it out
!'

‘Hey, thanks for the idea. I could put it on my blog.'

‘Don't you dare.' She eyed him. ‘What is your blog address by the way, you haven't told me.'

‘And I'm not going to.'

A tiny smile, or was it a smirk, crept onto her lips.

‘What?' he asked.

‘Nothing,' she said. ‘But you should show me some of your poems sometime. Any of them about how annoying your neighbour is?'

‘No, but that's the second best idea you've given me today.' He grinned, and as the late autumn sun's warmth contrasted with the cool air, his inner focus contrasted with his outer desire to simply reach out, touch her hand, her face, anything. Connect with her more. ‘Anyway,' he said, ‘Close your eyes.'

‘You first.'

‘Both of us at once,' he said. ‘I'll say a few words to help you meditate, then I'll tell you when the time's up.'

‘How will you know when the time's up, if you have your eyes closed? Are you going to count to …' her eyes rolled upwards, ‘three hundred seconds?'

‘I'll just know,' he said. ‘Okay on three, close your eyes.'

She wriggled in her chair to get comfortable and leaned her head back on the wooden slats. He did the same.

‘One, two, three.'

She eyed him and waited till his eyes closed.

‘Are yours closed?' he asked.

‘Yes,' she said. ‘Don't you trust me?'

‘Do you trust me? I could be watching you and filming you right this second.'

‘I guess I'll have to take a chance.'

‘Okay, take a big deep breath.'

He took one of his own to guide her, and he could hear her exhalation after a few moments.

‘And another,' he added. ‘And another. Keep your focus on your breath. In and out.' He breathed slowly along with her, and the air around them fell quiet and calm, apart from the faint hum of the ocean's ebb and flow in the distance, much like their breath. ‘If there are any areas of tension in your body, consciously release that tension. When you breathe out, imagine the area melting.' He did the same. ‘Since its your first time, you might find it easier if you think of a calming word and repeat it in your mind each time you exhale. Like calm, or relax, or bliss. If you get distracted, keep coming back to that word.' The word that popped into his own mind was
glow
. April's glow. Not her store, but the glow she had about her. How the room seemed brighter when she entered, how the sky in the backyard seemed to lighten when she was there. ‘Keep breathing, and repeating your word. No rush. Be in the moment.'

He meditated with her for a few minutes, then said, ‘Okay, if you're ready, slowly open your eyes.' He waited a second or two before opening his, so she wouldn't think he'd been watching her. ‘How did that feel?'

Her face was softer, different. ‘Weird. Weird, but … interesting. Don't know how relaxed I was, but I did feel more in the moment, so to speak.'

‘Good. My work here is done.' He stood. ‘Try doing that every day for as long as you can.'

‘I'll try to remember.'

‘I might have to send you daily reminders,' he said. ‘Zac's meditation reminder service.'

‘Ah, now there's a business idea,' she said, then tilted her head and looked in his eyes. ‘Is that all you did, meditation? And it helped you become sober?'

‘That, and learning that addiction is just a habit, not a need. Habits can be broken.'

She didn't respond but nodded slowly as though processing his words.

‘It's also a craving for something more. Like … connection. And meaning. And a need to feel something more than you're currently feeling, or the opposite—to stop feeling.'

‘Interesting.'

‘So I read lots of books, meditated a lot, learned what my body really needed and didn't need, and I'm also stubborn as hell, which helped. Didn't want to quit the quitting.'

April smiled her bow-like smile.

‘Plus once I reached the point where I liked the feeling of self-empowerment better than I liked the feeling of being drunk, I knew I had beaten it.'

She eyed him curiously. ‘Have you thought about helping others with the same problem?' she asked.

Maybe the meditation had linked her mind with his. ‘Yes, I just don't know how yet.'

‘Words. You're good with words,' she said, then quickly added, ‘so I hear.'

‘Yeah. I should just write down everything I know.'

‘You totally should.'

‘Maybe I will.'

‘Good.' April stood and stretched her arms above her head, the arching accentuating her curves, causing warmth to pool in the centre of his body. ‘Well, thank you for the impromptu lesson. I shall go and float off inside and get some things knocked off my To Do list.'

‘Don't forget to make a To Be list as well,' he said, walking towards the fence.

‘Okay, I wish to be able to do all my to dos!'

He laughed, then jumped the fence.

Maybe he did have a greater purpose, to help others. Though he was still in the process of helping himself. For now, at least, he felt there was
another
, more immediate purpose. He went straight to his laptop and clicked ‘new post' on his blog, then wrote:

Still meditating?
the text message asked, when April looked at her phone the following week during a quiet moment at the store.

Ummm …
she replied. She'd tried it again a few times. It was okay, but just got boring. Plus she'd been distracted after reading Zac's latest poem, which, as a subscriber, had arrived in her inbox as a new post. She'd thought about going over there and telling him to stop. That she wasn't some conquest. But he didn't know she'd found his blog, and she didn't want to disrupt his creativity if it would help him get through his twelve months of recovery. He wouldn't risk trying it on with her anyway, she knew him well enough now to know he was committed to seeing it through, getting to September first. After that, she had no idea what he'd do, but no point worrying about that now. Besides, his words were like an exotic, undiscovered fragrance, wafting into her awareness in a subtle yet significant way. She'd be lying if she said she didn't want to read more. It was just a fantasy anyway, his poetry. A creative and emotional release for him.

For now, she'd keep the secret unless he wanted to show her his poems.

Zac replied:

Well, consider this your first of many meditation reminders. Close your eyes right now and breathe.

She replied:
what if a customer walks in?

Then they'll see you with your eyes closed. Big deal.

She liked how matter of fact he was. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Belinda was on her break, and the store was a quiet haven of soft, slow instrumental music, delicious and inviting scents, and a comforting warmth that enveloped and caressed her. Instead of focusing on a word, she tried to focus on the different aromas in the room, switching her awareness from one to another.

Crisp and cool citrus … orange, lemon, and lime.

Pomegranate, blueberry, raspberry …

Coconut, vanilla, cinnamon …