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Chapter Five

Sam

I cut through Riverfront Park on my way to Hope's studio, enjoying the feel of the sun on my face. I’d enjoyed the two-mile walk Friday night and decided to do it again today, this time taking the more scenic route. I worked out earlier, but extra cardio is never a bad thing.

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I was turning the corner past the bakery. I smiled as I answered.

“Hey Ray.”

“I just saw your text from Friday night.”

“Yeah, I knew you were off the grid, but figured you’d see it when you got home. And you did,” I said. “How was the cabin?”

“Peaceful. Quiet,” he said. “I live most of my life with this phone in my hand. It’s nice to detach from it once in a while.”

“You should do it more often.”

“What would all my needy clients do without me?”

“Probably sign terrible contracts and cry themselves to sleep,” I said.

“That’s the least of the damage some of them would do,” he said with a chuckle. “But enough of that. You’re still feeling good?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I feel like I turned a corner. Or something.”

“That’s good.” Ray's voice held the careful optimism he's mastered during my fifteen months of recovery. “It seems like whatever you're doing, it's working.”

“Even if that something is Reiki?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

“I've been in this business twenty-five years. I've seen players wear the same unwashed socks through a playoff series. Had a closer who wouldn't step on the mound without eating exactly three red Skittles. If this energy healing thing is giving you even one extra tick on the gun, keep doing it.”

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but...I don’t know. After the first session, something shifted. Then it happened again after the second one.” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s all in my head, maybe not. But I felt lighter. Stronger.”

“I won’t pretend to understand what Reiki or any of that woo-woo stuff your mom talks about does, but if it’s working, I’m all for it.”

“That's practically a testimonial.” I chuckled. “Mom will want to put it on her website.”

“She’s welcome to it,” he said, his voice softening in that way it always does when he refers to Mom. “Which reminds me, I was thinking about stopping down next week. If you're gonna be around.”

“Where else would I be?”

“Right,” he said. “I’ll text you my plans. Maybe we could grab dinner while I'm there? The three of us?”

I caught the subtle shift in his voice. The one that always made me wonder if he was including mom for more than professional reasons. I’ve never asked and didn’t plan to. If my mom had feelings for Ray, or vice versa, it’s none of my business. Probably.

“Subtle, Ray. Real subtle.”

“What? It's just dinner. Why wouldn’t I invite her along? We’ve known each other since you were in college.”

I stopped outside her shop, tucked just off Main Street, with a front window full of crystals, wind chimes, and twinkle lights.

“I’m outside her shop now. I’ll mention dinner to her.”

“Sounds good,” he said.

“And I’ll let you know how my bullpen goes Wednesday.”

“That sounds even better.”

Windchimes tinkled as I pushed open the door to Moonlight and Marigolds.

The familiar scent hit me immediately. It’s something warm and earthy, like sandalwood and orange peel, layered over patchouli.

The afternoon sun filtered through the crystals displayed throughout the shop, scattering rainbow prisms across the polished wooden floors.

I looked around at the shelves of polished stones, handmade jewelry, rows of essential oils, and dreamcatchers dangling from the ceiling beams. Then there were the endless racks of flowy skirts, harem pants, and ponchos. It should have felt cluttered and chaotic. But somehow, it felt calm.

“Sammy!” my mom said, emerging from the back room with a smile that stretched across her whole face. “I’m surprised to see you here. Don’t you have a session with Hope?”

I nodded.

“I’m a little early so I figured I’d pop in here for a few minutes.”

“That’s nice.”

She settled onto the chair behind the counter.

“I was just talking to Ray. He’s coming here next week and wants to take us out to dinner.”

Mom smiled softly when I mentioned Ray. There was a flicker in her eyes, but she covered it right away.

“That sounds nice.” She glanced away for a second, then looked back at me. “You’re in a better mood than usual.”

“Am I?”

“You’ve been in a better mood since Friday.”

I gave a small laugh and rubbed the back of my neck.

“Yeah, I guess I have. My arm felt solid on Friday, really solid. I had an awesome bullpen and for the first time in months feel optimistic.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” she asked with a raised brow.

“I think so.”

“I heard you were at The Starlight Tavern with Hope Friday night.”

“Of course you did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was more focused on telling you about my improved velocity than dinner,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Mmm Hmm.”

“Ava bailed on Hope,” I said. “I was already heading to The Tavern, so I invited her along. We ate dinner. I walked her to her car. I went home.”

What I didn't tell her was how Hope had stood on tiptoe when we kissed, or how that brief contact had sent electricity through me that had nothing to do with energy healing, or how I've replayed that moment in my mind at least a hundred times since Friday.

Some things you keep to yourself, especially from mothers with uncanny intuition.

“There's a lightness around you.” She gestured vaguely around my head. “A brightness I haven't seen since before the surgery.”

“Must be the Reiki.”

“Don’t laugh. It helped you when nothing else could.”

“I’m not laughing,” I said.

“Finally he understands,” she said, raising her hands to the ceiling. As she lowered them, she pointed next door. “You better get going. It’s almost time for your next session.”

I stepped out of Mom’s shop, the bell above the door chiming softly behind me, and took the few steps across the sidewalk to Hope’s studio. A fresh Christmas wreath hung on the door with pine, cinnamon sticks, and a red plaid bow. Something that definitely hadn’t been there on Friday.

Hope’s studio smelled different than my mom’s store.

Brighter, cleaner, like eucalyptus and citrus.

I toed off my shoes and glanced around. Since Friday, Christmas has crept in here too.

Evergreens twined with fairy lights along the windows and a small tree sat on the front table adorned with wooden ornaments shaped like suns, moons, and stars.

It’s subtle and cozy, like the holidays tiptoed in instead of bursting through the door.

Hope emerged from the back in a soft gray sweater and leggings, her long blonde hair in its usual braid.

“I’m ready for you,” she said, the faintest blush rising in her cheeks as the words hung between us.

My brain immediately supplied a juvenile response, and for once, I kept it to myself.

“Mature,” I muttered under my breath, following her toward the back room.

The lights were low, the table waiting. I settled onto it and Hope’s voice guided me into slow, deep breaths. My body relaxed under her hands, but my brain didn’t get the memo.

It was only a week ago I’d walked in here convinced Reiki was a waste of time. Then I agreed to a second session, because I was trying to figure out what the hell happened at the first. But today I just wanted to see Hope.

Her hands hovered over me, not touching but close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her palms.

“Just breathe and let everything go,” she murmured. “Be present in this moment.”

Present. Right.

I kept breathing, deeper and deeper, feeling the air fill then leave my lungs.

There was something electric between Hope and me, a current I could feel pulsing through the room, through me.

It was like the space between us was charged with a force I’d never experienced, pulling me closer even when we weren’t touching.

In that quiet, steady rhythm of breath, I realized this connection wasn’t just physical, it was something deeper, raw, and undeniable.

And maybe, it was the beginning of something neither of us saw coming.

Hope

I’d just finished folding the last of my laundry when Ava knocked on the front door once and let herself in, like she always does.

“Dinner has arrived!” she announced, stepping inside with a tote over her shoulder and a brown paper bag in her hand.

She looked every bit the corporate professional in her charcoal pencil skirt, cream silk blouse, and tailored blazer. Her dark auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, and the delicate pearl earrings that adorned them caught the light when she moved.

“Thanks for grabbing dinner.”

“You are very welcome,” she said as she set the bag on the kitchen table and flashed a snarky grin. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna change into something more comfortable.”

While Ava disappeared down the hallway, I unpacked our dinner. The containers were still hot and steam escaped as I peeled back the lids. Chicken pad Thai for me, drunken noodles with extra basil for Ava, our standard orders since college.

She returned moments later in full lounge mode…black joggers, a sweatshirt with a faded graphic of Stevie Nicks on the front, and fuzzy purple socks that didn’t match anything else but made her look ridiculously comfortable.

“Ahhh. So much better,” she said. “Do you think Mayor Bigsbee would mind if I started wearing this to work?”

“Probably. I’m guessing she’d rather her communications director wear something more professional.”

“It’s just so unfair. Those clothes aren’t as comfy as these.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I said as I opened the refrigerator. “What do you want to drink? I have wine, beer, sparkling or regular water, and soda.”

“Sparkling water sounds good.”