Missed Connections

Missed Connections: Chapter 12

I don't walk so much as strut from the train station to work on Tuesday morning. If I'd known how amazing the makeover would make me feel, I'd have given Pete free rein ages ago.

Fern is standing at my desk when I cross the reception area. "Morning, Fern."

"Hello, Sarah." She stares at me for a second, and I wait for her to say something about my hair. "I have a bunch of old files for you to archive today." She looks at me—my hair, my shoes, and back to my face.

"Sure." I slide past her and put my purse in the lower drawer of the desk. If Fern noticed, she doesn't seem to care about the change in my appearance. Oh well, I didn't do it for her anyway. The tall stack of manila folders is dusty and some of them are stained, stacked in a pile about two feet high. "I'm surprised I never came across these. Where have they been?"

"These were some we kept at home."

I'm pretty sure that's illegal. "I'll get to it then."

She hesitates, as if wanting to say something, but leaves silently.

An hour later, I've made a decent dent in the pile of folders when the craniosacral therapist, Ginny, emerges from a room and comes to the front. "Hey, Sarah."

"Hi. How are you?"

"Fairly well." She writes something in her client's file and puts it in my tray. We're not that chummy, but her smile is always warm. I think she's just an aloof person, but her clients float out of the office feeling amazing, so I've got nothing but respect for her. And since her clients don't undress, she just changes the top sheet and pillowcase herself, saving me time and energy. "Love your new haircut."

"Thanks." I grin and show her next client into a room before checking the laundry, but it's not finished. Ginny is just closing the door to her room when I pass by on the way back to reception. Phyllis, Ziggy, and Fern are hanging out there with herbal tea when I get back.

Phyllis catches my eye, then refocuses on Fern. So annoying, but at least I can go to lunch soon. "I just find the whole thing incredibly unhealthy. I mean, what kind of energy does that put out into the world?"

I settle behind my desk and begin checking the messages, half listening to their conversation.

Ziggy clears his throat. "And that's the thing. It's all about balance, but it shouldn't all be external."

"It shouldn't be about the external at all," Fern admonishes. "Appearances aren't important in the least."

Surely, they're not talking about me?

Phyllis continues. "I mean, I cut my hair myself at home because I don't agree with the trappings of the antiwoman fashion industry. It's so inorganic."

"Completely. All the chemicals are terrible for a person's body, but the treadmill of insecurity is terrible for their soul. For their energy. And for what, to attract a mate?" Fern's voice burns with passion.

Ziggy nods. "Unfortunately, they end up attracting someone who is only interested in their wrappers and not who they are as a person."

My fingers fumble my pen. They are literally talking about me in front of my face.

Fern sighs. "It's just sad that people will go to such lengths to capture love. It really says something about them that they will stop at no cost—to their bodies, health, or energy systems. I mean, if they only knew what such dramatic changes do to their root chakras."

"Never mind their root chakras—think of their hara lines." Ziggy sets his tea down.

"If only they'd be in my class. I could teach them so much in such a short time!"