Vivian Rising by Daniella Brodsky

Author:Daniella Brodsky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: astrology, romance alpha male, romance clean, spiritual fiction, contemporary romance drama, latest contemporary romance novels
Publisher: DB Co.
Published: 2017-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

21

If you don’t get lost, there’s a chance you may never be found.

—COMMON PROVERB

Seeing Kavia so early means I get up just a bit later than when I used to get ready for work, but enough that I have to sort out a new routine: there’s a different National Public Radio announcer at this time; his name’s Simon Stockholm, and he has a pleasant, deep voice that soothes me during my morning tea. My mystery someone left me some fancy gourmet granola and fresh mangoes, bananas, and mandarins yesterday. I’m still choosing, as I crunch down, to believe this someone was Len, continuing our game. I decide to return the favor. I look around and can’t think of a single thing to give him. The game is like Kavia; it makes me look at ordinary things in a whole new way. There’s a lot more to a carrot scraper than you might first assume.

And so I’ve been eating this granola—rather than the plain bran flakes Grams and I ate every day for two decades—and I’m cutting up little bits of the fruit to toss on top, listening to Simon Stockholm diplomatically field callers’ creative theories on global warming. The fruit is new. We never did fruit before 9:30 because it gave Grams indigestion. I got used to not having it. On the record she didn’t officially mind if I ate it, but she’d make this little squeak, like a puppy who wants out of his pen, every time I bit into a berry or a stone fruit. So the next time we went to the fruit store I said, “Don’t buy any for breakfast. I don’t feel like it.” She raised one eyebrow and scrunched up the side of her mouth, but didn’t argue. She made my favorite for dinner that night, even though sloppy joes gave her “a” heartburn. It’s all the onions, she used to say.

The fruit with granola is nice. On these mornings, before I know it, I’m on the train, and just as quickly, in the city. Things never went this fast when I was going to work. It’s amazing how time can stretch when it feels like it.

It’s a little strange that everyone’s off to their jobs except for me. But I dress normally now. I’ve relegated the housecoat to home use only. And the lobby. And the delicatessen. But that was just once. And it was a half-sour-pickle emergency. Wendy and I agreed: if I actually wanted something this badly, finally, it was a good thing, and I was right to run like the wind, to pick out the crunchiest ones swimming around in the barrel.

I’ve met Wendy for coffee a few times. Start letting people in, but don’t push, Kavia says, and what you want will come to you. She shoves me out the door, and not gently either, at five minutes exactly.

The thing is, she could kick me out with a steel-toed boot and it wouldn’t matter: everything she advises works, makes me dig just that much deeper.

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