She picked up the first ball and shoved it at his chest. “Prove it.”
He looked down at the word.Pushover. Glaring at her, he tossed it up and then booted it across the park.
“Fore!” she yelled, hands cupped around her mouth. Then she turned to him, a gleeful grin lighting her face. “Do another. Except this time, look at the word and put everywhere you act like it into the ball, andthenkick all of that away from you.”
He looked at the next one.Procrastinate. He pictured all the instances where he’d put things off at home, hoping they’d just correct on their own.
They never had.
A surge of anger and frustration welled up in him. Focusing it into the ball, he kicked it off.
Lottie laughed like a child as it sailed even further away. She sat on a bench, tucking her skirt around her legs. “That’s the ticket. Do another. Focus all the emotions from the word into the ball.”
He picked up the next one.Guilt. For a moment, he stared at it—he didn’t feel guilty. But then he saw Kofi’s face, the wonder and envy on it, when he’d stepped into Danny’s penthouse the first time. Maybe he felt a little guilty that he had so much. He looked at Lottie.
She shrugged. “It’s time to get rid of it.”
Nodding, he imagined setting the guilt into the ball, and then he jetted it all the way across the park.
He did that for all the remaining balls, one by one, until they were gone. Then he sat on the bench next to Lottie, who’d put her shoes back on and was bundled in her coat.
“Feel good?” she asked.
“I feel great.” He looked at her curiously. “Did you come up with that idea or did MacNiven?”
“Can’t tell. Trade secrets.” She pretended to lock up her lips. “That’s not important though. What’s important is that it helped you get rid of those feelings and identities, because they’re holding you back from your best life.”
“Were you always this wise?”
She snorted. “Honey, I’m eighty, and I still feel like I haven’t figured it out. We all have our areas of improvement.”
“What’s yours?” he asked, plucking at the grass.
“There’s a fella I’m interested in. I’d like to get to know him better, but he hasn’t asked me out yet.” She pursed her lips. “The last time I saw him, he kissed me, so I think he’s interested, but I haven’t heard from him since, so I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you ask him out?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know that he’d react well to that. He’s kind of old-fashioned. Men like to feel like they’re on the chase, don’t they? I read that inCosmolast month.”
He thought of Jules. “If a woman I was interested in asked me out, I’d jump on it. It wouldn’t make me feel any less like a conqueror. It might even make me feel more empowered to show her how much I like her.”
“So did you ask Jules out, or did she ask you?”
He smiled. “Can’t tell you. Trade secrets.”
Lottie laughed. “If I had to bet, I’d put down twenty on you.”
He took her arm to help her to her feet. “You’d bet on me?”
“Of course.” She beamed at him. “And I’d bet on love.”
Nineteen
They moved up the mediation date—to next Monday.
Jules read the email from the court-appointed mediator, asking both parties to appear in the morning, her stomach starting to pitch. She blindly opened up one of her desk drawers and felt for the bottle of antacids she found in there.
It wasn’t lost on her that she hadn’t needed one in over a week—since she’d started seeing Danny.