The Romance Novel Cure (18 page)

* * *

“You want to take a break?” Laura’s voice cut through her memories, cut through the sound of Ben’s laughter. Alma blinked at the wall in front of her. She set her paintbrush down and nodded shakily, turning to walk with Laura to go get a cold drink.

Daniel stared at the water going down the drain. He closed his eyes, feeling it beat down upon his head, then frowned as it turned a lurid shade of red. Then he realized what had happened. The water had loosened the dried red paint on his arm. He held it directly under the shower, watching the red paint blur and drip off him. Smiling slightly, he grabbed the bar of soap and washed the rest away. He tried to stop thinking about the woman who had accidentally painted his arm. But the truth was, he had seen her from across the playground and had felt drawn to her. He had grabbed a paintbrush and headed to where she was painting. Her hair was so dark, swinging forward to hide her face. When she shook it back, he felt as though he could actually feel that soft, dark brown hair against his fingers. It made his hands tingle and spark. When she had absently swiped the wet, cool paint across his arm, he felt as though he shivered, deep inside. He didn’t know her name. He paused, and straightened, suddenly alert: was that Elijah? He turned off the water, grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist, and hurried out of the bathroom. “Coming, buddy. Hold on, mister.”

Elijah sat up in his crib, his face flushed and angry looking. He wailed, his little face scrunched up.

“Buddy, buddy. Mister bud-man. Hey…” Daniel held his baby’s sleep- warmed body close, burying his nose into the crease of his soft neck. “What’s the deal?”

He couldn’t get used to how Elijah woke up instantly crying, especially from his afternoon nap. It killed him. The little guy would go to sleep so peacefully and wake up looking betrayed, shouting and crying miserably. The only thing that would stop the crying jag was if Daniel did this side–to-side shuffling dance and sang a certain song he had made up for just these moments.

Hey Elijah

Little Mr. Man

Buddy, buddy, buddy

The nap is over, yeah

The nap is over, yeah!

He sang it softly, dancing over to the window.

“Ah!” Elijah leaned to the window, his voice rough with crying but filled with delight. That was another thing Daniel couldn’t get used to. His baby would be flat out miserable and then in the next moment, full of sunshine and smiles.

“Da!” Daniel thought that
da
meant
that
and referred to pretty much everything.

“Yeah, that. What do you see, bud? See the cars?” Daniel pointed and Elijah looked intently out the window, breathing softly. His dark blond hair, so wispy, stood up in a peak. Daniel buried his nose into the little area right at the back of his neck. And yet another thing he couldn’t get used to: the absolute soul wringing love he felt for this person. He had never felt anything like it. All the fears he had about being a father, all the stress of the day-to-day moments of caring for a baby, all of it melted away to reveal the rock bottom truth of the fact that he loved his son like nothing else on earth and would to his dying day.

As Daniel carried him to the kitchen, he felt his damp skin drying in the warm spring air. He tried to push a fleeting thought of the painting woman out of his mind. Those huge dark eyes, how her hair moved forward like that, and then back. That big tee shirt she wore that covered her up completely and his wondering what was beneath.
Not even an option
, he told himself. He had his hands full being a full time single dad.

* * *

Alma set the two containers of tortillas down on the table.

“Alma, did you put the tortillas out?”

She rolled her eyes. “
Si
, Mama.”

“Are they hot?”

“No, I thought we’d have cold tortillas today for a change.”

“What? Alma!”

“Mama! I’m joking.” Alma turned and faced her mother who was coming into the dining room holding a large bowl of salad. It was Sunday, and that meant everyone was coming over for dinner. Her mother always wanted everything to be just right, but today was even more special. Her mother’s aunt, who they all just called
tia
, which meant aunt in Spanish, was visiting from Mexico.

Just then they heard the sounds of the front door opening, and they hurried out of the dining room, through the living room of the ranch style home.

“Tia!”

“Elena! Alma!”

Alma and her mother stopped short and stared. Tia set down her bags and smiled at them. She had transformed in the year since they’d last seen her. She had always been overweight, and Alma had found her generous curves lovely. But Tia’s doctor had given her a wake up call that her health was suffering. In the past, Tia had tried diet after diet, always giving up and gaining back what little weight she had lost, and some more. She had also worked too much and smoked. Now, she stood before them looking strong and slender, her hands on her hips, smiling. After that momentary pause of shock, Alma and her mother, Elena, rushed into Tia’s arms.

“Tia, you look amazing! You have to tell me about your new diet!” Elena pulled back, unable to stop looking at her aunt.

“
Gracias
.” She beamed. “No diet. A new way of taking care of myself.”

Cars pulled into the driveway and the sounds of voices filled the air. The three women turned to welcome the various cousins and friends who arrived.

Elena always wanted to feed people right away, so within moments of reuniting, everyone was heading to the small dining room. Alma sat across from Tia and noticed that she took generous portions of salad with cactus, stuffed squash blossoms, and a serving of rice, but nothing else. She simply passed bowl after bowl to Alma’s cousin Hector’s girlfriend who was sitting next to her. This did not escape the notice of Elena.

“Tia, you need some tortillas. Alma, pass her the tortillas. Are they still hot?”

Alma reached for the tortilla keeper, which kept them quite hot. “
Si
mama, they’re hot.”

“
Gracias
, but no. What I have is perfect,
mija
.” Tia smiled at them so sweetly and calmly. Alma set the container down and nodded. Elena frowned worriedly.

Later, Alma and Tia were outside in the backyard. Alma had seen her go out the back door after the dishes were done, Tia insisting on helping. Alma assumed she was going to smoke a cigarette, but Tia was standing still, her face up to the sun.

“Oh, how I have missed this New Mexico sky.”

“It’s so good to have you back. I’ve missed you.” Alma went to stand by her.

“I’ve missed you too. I hope you can come visit me.”

“I’d like that so much. Tia… you aren’t smoking?”

“No. Not anymore. Instead of taking cigarette breaks, I take… sky breaks!” She laughed, turning her face back up to the bright blue cloudless sky.

“How did you quit? And how have you become so strong and well? You always struggled with that, and now you seem so happy and healthy.” Alma could not get enough of looking at her great aunt, who looked so serene and radiant.

“When a need for something rules you, controls you, it’s an awful way to live.” Tia’s expression grew serious. “That kind of compulsion, when you can’t stop thinking of something… it’s so unhealthy. For the soul, too. You know it’s bad for you, but you can’t stop. For me, that was sugar, over-eating, cigarettes, working too much, too.”

“So you just quit cold turkey? How did you find the strength?”

“No,
mija
. It was, no, it
is
, one step at a time. Twelve steps to be exact. Each step helped me and now, one day at a time, I am free from the compulsions that made me so sad and unhealthy. Grace, Alma. That’s grace. I used to try so hard not to think about all the foods I wanted, the cigarettes I tried to limit. It took up so much energy. I let my work consume me, too.”

Alma was struck by the sense of how similar her feelings for Ben were to this kind of compulsive, circular thinking. “Tia, do you think… Can these steps be used to stop other things that are like that?”

Tia’s eyes widened in concern. “Alma, are you having problems with anything?”

“No, no… but if there are certain feelings about someone or something that you feel like you can’t stop? I just wondered.” Alma looked down at the dry ground, swallowing. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings for Ben.

“There are twelve step programs for all kinds of addictions. Some people struggle with food, others with shopping… addiction can encompass so much. I don’t know what you are struggling with, but I’m always here to help, if I can.”

Alma looked over her shoulder at the house. “You won’t tell?”

Tia regarded her with compassion. “As long as there is no danger to your health…”

“No, nothing like that.” She felt foolish. She lowered her voice. “I just can’t stop thinking about a certain guy. And it’s a guy I absolutely can never be with. But I literally cannot stop thinking about him, having these daydreams about the two of us. It’s sick, Tia.”

The screen door of the house opened. “Tia, Alma! We have dessert now, and
café con leche
.”

Tia took Alma’s hand. “Why not have an open mind about what can help you with this, and let’s talk more, okay?”

“Thanks, Tia.” Alma and Tia walked into the house.

“Watch me not eating all the
galletas
and no sugar in my
café
and you’ll see, miracles happen. Every day.” Tia grinned at her.

A little feeling of hope, the first she had felt in so long. Alma smiled back.

In her apartment that night, Alma sat on her couch with her laptop. She was in her pajamas, tired after a long day of family and friends, but eager to see if what had helped Tia could possibly help her. She didn’t know exactly what to look for, so she started randomly Googling words. There was a great deal about twelve steps and recovery. It was overwhelming.  She found a website that described applying the twelve steps of addiction recovery to food addiction. Reading it, and then reading other various links made the time fly by. Finally, she sat back and thought for a while. Nodding, she rolled up her sleeves. She opened a document and began playing with the wording. She thought she’d try to create her own version of a recovery program, just for her. Recovery from Ben. She created a file, calling it
Crush Cure
, and added the document she had just created.

Twelve Steps of Crush Recovery

1. Admit I’m powerless.
   

Okay, never thought about it that way. I kept trying to make myself stop having crush thoughts and that has not helped at all. I will try this.

1. Ask higher power for help.
   

Okay, haven’t prayed about this. I admit I never thought of even trying this. I believe in God so I’ll ask for help with this. Even though I’m so ashamed.

1. Believe that everything is going to work out the way it is supposed to.
   
2. Don’t give up.
   
3. Ask for help from others.
   
4. Do some major soul searching.
   
5. Make changes.
   
6. Be open to letting go of the crush.
   
7. Try to understand why the crush happened.
   

(Why don’t I have a boyfriend?)

1.                 
   Live one day at a time.
   
2.                 
   Let the crush recovery be a catalyst for spiritual and emotional growth.
   
3.                 
   Help others.
   

She couldn’t think of any more. She sat back, and read the words she had written. She would try to focus on the first two steps over the next few days and see how it went. There was no way she could go to any kind of twelve step meeting and admit she was there because she had a crush on someone, no way. She covered her face in embarrassment, just thinking about it.

The room would be filled with people struggling in early days of recovery from such intense things and there she’d be: “Hi, my name is Alma.”

“Hi, Alma!” People would look at her encouragingly.

“… and I have a crush…” Their expressions would change, showing lack of comprehension.

She shook her head and thought some more. Suddenly, she sat back up and began typing furiously. She found a free program for creating a blog, and keeping completely anonymous, she created a blog entitled
Cure for the Common Crush
. She listed the steps that she had created, and using no distinguishing details, described the reason she had for creating the blog. Instead of going to meetings, as Tia did, she would write each day, describing her path of crush recovery, and hoping it would help others one day. She created an avatar of herself, using an image with red hair and calling herself Alex. “
My name is Alex, well, that’s my pen name, and I have a crush. Inspired by the twelve steps of recovery, this is my attempt to get over my crush and help others along the way
.” She closed her laptop and nodded determinedly.

She got ready for bed and climbed under the covers, too tired to even read as she usually did. As soon as she closed her eyes, though, she began to imagine Ben. She thought about what it would be like if he was in bed right next to her. All the lights would be off except for the glow of his iPad, which he carried with him everywhere.

“Is this keeping you up?” His voice would sound so soft, and she would turn to him…
No.

No.

She sat up in bed, feeling the surge of shame that always accompanied these daydreams. Then she remembered. She was going to try a new way. She clasped her hands together. “Dear God,” she whispered. “Please help me get over this crush. Please help me stop thinking so much about Ben. I’m so sorry I have these feelings and please help me let go of them. Thank you. Oh! Amen.”

She put her head back on her pillow and sighed. She did feel a little better. Before she knew it, the sunshine was streaming into her window and it was time to get ready for work. A whole new week. Her stomach clenched in anxiety and her heart began to race. Seeing Ben. It was always worst/best on Monday mornings. She took a deep breath, remembering the twelve steps she had created the night before.

A quick check of her blog while she drank some coffee had her almost doing a spit take: one hundred hits just last night! And comments!

Hi, I have a crush on this guy in my class but I have a boyfriend. Do you think that I can cure my crush or do you think fate is telling me that I’m really supposed to be with this other guy? --  Anonymous.

Dear Alex, hot singles are just waiting to meet you! Check them out at…

Hi Alex, wow, great first post! I’m following you if you’d like to follow me back! Crystal at crystalcreations.com Jewelry Making Made Extraordinary!

Alex, I can tell my boyfriend has a crush on someone in his team at work what should I do? --  Anonymous

She focused on the first one, and the last one, feeling ill at ease. Why was she being asked advice? She certainly didn’t have any wisdom to share. She checked the clock. If she ate breakfast at work, she’d have time to write a quick entry.

Day One of One Day at a Time

Thanks to everyone who stopped by. I want to make sure readers know that I’m not able to give advice. This is just me, Alex, trying to cure my own crush. If anything I share is helpful to you along the way, then that’s a good thing!

Hi, my name is Alex… and I have a crush.

Today I’m going to try and wrap my brain around the concept that I’m powerless over these crush- oriented feelings. All I want to do is get rid of these obsessive emotions surrounding my longings for Mr. Off- Limits. Today, instead of feeling bad, guilty, ashamed, I’m going to just try this: accept that I’m powerless and that I need help. That’s it.

She read over her words and clicked post.

Then, feeling somehow more lighthearted than she had in a while, she got ready to leave.