The Perfect Indulgence

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BREATHE IN...BREATHE OUT...breathe in...breathe out.

Chris Meyer sat on a cliff near Aura Beach in her adopted town of Carmia on the Central California coast. She was meditating, in a deep trance, aware only of the breeze on her face, the sounds of the ocean waves rolling in and the slow pattern of her breathing.

If anyone had told her a little over five months ago when she and Eva, her sister and fellow coffee-shop owner, had first cooked up the idea of temporarily switching lives, that she would someday practice meditation, she would have laughed and assumed the person had confused her, a typical type A New Yorker, with her laid-back California-girl twin.

However, in the past five months Chris had undergone a total personality transformation, thanks to her daily meditation and yoga classes at the Peace, Love and Joy Center on the outskirts of town. Gone were her uptight, neurotic and anal-retentive tendencies; she was now relaxed, carefree and brimming with California sunshine and roses.

Most of the time.

Back in October, if someone had suggested she sit on a cliff for half an hour doing absolutely nothing, she would have scoffed. What could possibly be considered productive about that?

She’d learned so much living here. And with Eva’s serious boyfriend, Ames Cooke, so far unsuccessful at finding the perfect sales-manager job with a vineyard or distributor here in Central California, Chris wouldn’t be switching back to the hectic pace of New York anytime soon.

That was good. She wanted to stay here until this change went much deeper than her surroundings. Much deeper than her new casual wardrobe, her new crazy hairstyles— Well...actually, they were wigs and temporary hair dyes she’d been experimenting with, but that counted as change, right? Deeper than her new phoenix tattoo, which, admittedly, was tiny and hidden on her rib cage under her arm. And deeper than the row of earrings she’d taken to wearing down the shell of her ear. Although, truth be told, they were cuffs. She didn’t want any more holes in her ears. But this was a true transformation. Really. She was going for total calm, ready to say goodbye to the high-strung, anxious, quick-to-judge side of her personality. She was also working on freeing her spontaneous, live-in-the-moment self from a lifetime spent planning, organizing and following routines, which she’d learned from her parents. When she and Eva had been infants, their parents had put them on strict feeding schedules. As girls, they’d been taught the importance of doing their chores and getting a full eight hours of sleep. For whatever reason their parents’ devotion to work before play had not remotely rubbed off on her free-spirited twin, but Chris had bought into it 100 percent.

The ringing of her cell phone wrenched her from her trance. She’d forgotten to put the pesky device on mute. If she could, she’d leave the phone at home when she meditated, but she was responsible for anything that happened at Slow Pour, her sister’s coffee shop, which Chris had been managing over the fall and now into winter.

Winter...ha! Californians shouldn’t be allowed to use the term.

The call was from Eva. Chris answered eagerly, not having spoken to her sister in a while, unusual for them. “Hey, twin, what’s going on? How are you liking February?”

Eva groaned. “Given that it’s the first of the month, about as much as I loved January.”

“Yeah, it’s bitter here, too. Brr. I think it might have dipped below sixty.”

“Do not even tell me.”

“You’re a traitor to your Wisconsin roots.” Chris smiled, knowing better than to push further, since she’d been on the receiving end of this same teasing from Eva for years. “How’s my baby doing?”

“Good! You might not know it, but NYEspresso is hosting a fabulous Valentine’s event in two weeks. You’re having a pastry chef in for the day to give lessons on making heart-shaped meringues and those hot chocolate cakes with the gooey centers.”

“Ooh, yum. I am truly brilliant.”

“What am I doing at Slow Pour to celebrate the beautiful day of lovers?”

“Oh, I ordered some heart-shaped vegan whole-grain cookies.”

“And...?”

“That’s it right now.” She felt vaguely guilty, since her sister loved the holiday that Chris found forced and silly. Her two previous serious boyfriends had felt the same way, so she’d gotten used to ignoring it. But maybe as part of her new persona, she should be more open to Valentine’s Day, even if it was a manufactured occasion designed to profit florists, jewelers, restaurants and chocolate makers. “I might offer a special flavored cocoa drink or something...”

“Are you okay? You don’t sound happy, Chris.”

“What?” Her sister’s comment surprised her, and then she realized Eva still couldn’t understand her recent vow to be single and work on her inner self for a change. “No, I’m happy. Deeply happy, as a matter of fact.”

Eva gasped. “Really? Does this have to do with the regulars you’ve met at the shop? Has Gus grown up and gotten smart enough to take you on a decent date instead of out to watch him surf? Has Bodie stopped admiring his hot self long enough to come in and say hello again? Have you started something with my best friend, Zac? Or is there someone new now?”

“No, nothing like that.” Chris cringed at the verbal onslaught. Her sister could use a few sessions at the Peace, Love and Joy Center. Chris’s four weeks there had changed her life. “Can’t I be happy without a man?”

“Of course you can! But who isn’t happier with one?”

Chris stretched her arm up toward the sun. Her sister was so blissfully in love with Ames that she couldn’t see past coupledom as the source of true contentment, while Chris had discovered that true contentment could only come from within. “I’m not focusing on that part of my life right now.”

“What? I thought you were going to have a wild fling while you’re in California.”

“I was. I still might. But I’m not going to force it. If it happens, it happens. Right now I’m working on just being.”

“Just being what?”

“Just being, Eva.”

“What the—” Her twin made a sound of exasperation. “Has someone been feeding you funny-tasting brownies?”

“No! I mean, if the perfect guy comes around and my inner voice tells me to go for it, I’ll go for it. But I’m not looking. I’m trying to live in the moment, to be at peace with myself.”

“Uh-huh. Hey, listen, can you put my sister on the phone, please? Chris Meyer? Type A, from New York?”

“Ha-ha. You’ve always let life take you where it wanted, Eva. And look how happy you are. Now I’m trying it.”

“But that’s who I am, Chris. And when it comes to men, hell, I’ve always gone after them with everything I have. Poor Ames didn’t stand a chance.”

“If I meet someone that wonderful, I might do that. Right now, though, sex is not on my mind. Besides, Gus and Bodie have been away forever at surfing events all over the country.”

“And Zac disappeared. I told you about that. His younger brother got into some trouble.”

“I’m not interested in Zac.”

“So you keep saying.”

Ordinarily Chris would have gone nuts over Eva’s stubborn insistence on believing what she wanted to be true, instead of what was. She would have argued and protested, trying in vain to use logic and common sense to counteract Eva’s crazy assumptions. But now... “Okay, whatever, Eva.”

“Listen, I wanted to tell you that it looks like a sales-manager job is opening up at Great Grapes Wine Distributors.”

A tiny shiver of dread mixed with Chris’s pleasure at hearing her sister’s news. If Ames got the job, she’d have to go back to New York before she was ready. She wasn’t quite sure what being ready entailed, but she knew if she had to leave soon, something would be left undone here. Going back now would prevent her from achieving the depth of meaning or happiness that she was meant to find or figure out in California.

“That would be perfect for Ames. It’s only a half hour from here.”

“I know!” Eva squealed. “Shh, don’t jinx it. But it would be awesome.”

“It would.” Chris took a deep breath. Her old self would have panicked immediately. Now she gently told herself that many things would have to happen before Ames and Eva actually moved back here and she had to return to New York. Thinking about it now—worrying and working herself up into an awful state of what-if—served no useful purpose.

But up here on the cliff, overlooking the ocean that stretched to eternity, she didn’t feel quite one with the universe anymore. Which was fine. She’d go back to Slow Pour a little early and give Summer, the shop’s other barista, a shortened shift. Summer worked hard; she deserved an extralong afternoon off, especially since Maureen, their usual weekend barista, had flown out of state to attend a family funeral.