Carlene

I’ve been off balance ever since Rome kissed me down on the beach in the early morning light. Something happened when his lips met mine. It’s as if my body has suddenly woken from a long, long hibernation. A forgotten energy is pulsing through me now. A heightened awareness of myself as a woman and very much of Rome as a man. It’s a need to be near him, to absorb his essence.

Maybe I should talk to him about it, but I have no clue what to say or where to start? Is it okay to want a man again? Would it be okay to let him run his hands over my body, kiss me, touch me, and mercy—fuck me? How can I be forty and still feel as clueless as I had at sixteen?

We eat breakfast down by the beach, and I have my first real lesson in tipping. The whole tipping thing is going to take a little getting used to. In Australia, you leave a tip if you feel the service is good. Even then, it’s not expected, although certainly appreciated. Here, a totally different story. The tip is part of the bill. Okay, give me another couple of attempts at it, and I’ll have it sorted, I hope.

After breakfast, we head back to the hotel for a quick change of clothes, before we hit the Santa Monica Pier. We’ve been on the move ever since, and so far, it’s exactly what I hoped for and more.

An eclectic mix of people, sights, sounds, music, and food. The hours are flying past as we walk hand in hand, exploring and taking in the beachside sights. There’s the carnival rides on the pier, the near naked men and women at muscle beach, and no end of crazy and bizarre things to look at. A complete overload on my senses in every way…and then there’s Rome…

I’m loving it all.

Since we’ve been out exploring, Rome has been the perfect, patient guide. Not once has he seemed to mind stopping for me to look at something he’s probably seen a million times before, but for me, is all shiny and new.

Now we’re strolling down a little side street off the main shopping area, and I can’t resist walking into a little new age shop. The smells coming from the open doorway and the window displays are pulling me right in. The walls are lined with crystals, jewelry, essential oils, and all manner of interesting things. I’m fascinated in this foreign environment but for a reason I don’t understand, I feel very much at home and relaxed as well.

My eyes take in the riot of colors, shapes, and sizes of the crystals.

I can feel Rome studying me.

“What?” I ask, suddenly very self-conscious of my obvious wonder at everything this store holds.

He chuckles a little and gives me a playful but intimate tap on the nose. The sort of familiarity you’d see with lovers. “You look so gorgeous standing here trying to decide what to look at first. It’s like watching a kid in a candy store.”

Heat races to my cheeks.

“They’re all so pretty. I don’t know where to start.”

He leans in close and whispers in my ear. “The trick is to pick the crystal which draws you in the most. Scan the shelves then don’t think. Just feel. Which one draws you to it? That’s what you need right now in your life. The energy in your body will mesh with the energy of the crystal to amplify it.”

I can feel my forehead crease a little into a frown. Do I believe him?

“Go on. What have you got to lose? At the very least, it’s a bit of fun,” he urges.

He’s right. Today is very much about having fun, enjoying his company, and experiencing new things. I step forward, away from his direct influence, and this time, study the shelves. A few seconds later, I spot a piece I just can’t look past.

It’s so beautiful.

Without thinking, I move directly to a smooth crystal with rounded edges. The beauty is about the size of a baseball and roundish in shape but not anywhere close to a sphere. The colors though, are what have captured my attention. The center of the crystal is a stunning watermelon pink color. The deep pink blends into blues, greens, and in places, black.

Magnificent is the word for it.

So much so, I pick it up, and immediately, I’m surprised by the cool weight of the crystal. It feels so good against my skin, I subconsciously bring it to my face and place it against my cheek.

I love it.

In fact, I’m so enraptured with it, I initially miss Rome beside me until he speaks, “interesting choice of crystal.”

Is there a hint of amusement and a little smirk I’m seeing? What have I unwittingly picked up?

“Do you know what type of crystal it is?” he asks.

I have no idea, however there’s a little card on the shelf that no doubt has that information. I glance over and read.

“Rainbow tourmaline, perhaps?” I quirk an eyebrow at him in fun.

He grins. “It is and a beautiful piece at that, but nowhere near as beautiful as the lady holding it.”

“Oh, the gentleman is too kind,” I joke back with him.

A more serious tone settles over him. “I wasn’t joking or just saying something, Carlene. You’re beautiful, and I want you to know that’s what I honestly think.”

I can’t hold the intensity in his eyes with mine any longer. It’s too revealing, too direct.

Does he really think this? He’s the beautiful one. I’m just a simple and practical woman from Australia on an adventure.

To break the connection of his gaze, I transfer the crystal back and forth between my hands a few times. The cool rock truly is stunning, but what business do I have with something like this? Then why do I feel the overwhelming need to buy it—to keep it as mine?

“It’s a lovely piece, just arrived yesterday, and I don’t think I’m going to have it for long.” An older woman with twinkling blue eyes nods at the crystal in my hands with a knowing confidence. She’s dressed in a way I could only describe as a modern-day hippie. “The colors are stunning and give it so much power.”

“Power?” I ask curiously, not really understanding what she is getting at.

“All crystals have their own unique energy and resonance signatures. This one is particularly special because it blends several colors. The blue/green color is about thought, communication, and expression. The black protects against negativity. The violet is representative of spiritual development.” She pauses with theatrical flair. The woman looks between Rome and me, drawing out the drama. “Finally, the dominating color in this piece is the deep red pink color. The watermelon shade promotes sexuality and love. Judging by the energy flowing between the two of you, I’m not at all surprised this was your choice.”

I draw in a surprised breath and dare a glance at Rome. Energy between us? He merely shrugs as if to say he knew that all along and seems comfortable and in agreement with everything she said.

Is she serious?

“I watched you study the shelves, then once you spotted this piece, there was none other that held your attention. This is the crystal that speaks to your soul for the journey you’re currently on. Please feel free to wander and look at your leisure, but I know what you’ll be leaving with.” She gives a nod to the crystal which seems to be quickly warming in my hand and moves away.

Am I being had?

I’m not at all sure I’m comfortable feeling like a foregone conclusion for something.

“Do you believe what she said?” I have a sense Rome knows far more about all this than he’s letting on as well. Am I the only one in the dark when it comes to the magic of crystals?

“Sure. I certainly think there’s truth in what she said. Crystals are well known and loved by many, for their spiritual and healing properties. But even if you don’t believe it holds those powers, what does it matter? It’s stunning and you obviously love it by the way you’re caressing it.”

I look at my hands, running over the crystal. Rome is correct. I am caressing it, even if I’ve been doing it subconsciously.

“But it’s not as if I need a lump of pretty colored rock,” I argue practically.

“Maybe, maybe not. Your soul picked it. Something about this crystal appeals to you, more than any other in the store. Regardless, whether you believe about the energies and resonance, which is a scientific fact, by the way, then at the very least, the colors really appeal to you. Is that not enough to make it yours, just because you want it? Occasionally, you need to throw practicality out the window and just go with something for the pure joy and the experience it brings.”

His eyes are intense, and I know he’s talking about far more than the crystal I hold in my palm. Rome’s reaction is the exact opposite of what Phillip’s would have been. He would have mocked my attraction to a piece of rock and chastised me for even considering spending money on it.

“Life is meant to be lived and enjoyed, Carlene, not viewed from behind the safety fence at a distance, nor forever locked away behind that fence through responsibility. More often than not, you have to take a calculated risk and step out to where it’s a little more dangerous. That’s where the real living and growing are done.” His eyes are soft and encouraging.

The words are not new to me. I should know this lesson. Phil’s death is a very real example of it. How everything can be ripped away in a heartbeat. No more life to be lived or experiences to be had—love and lives to be shared.

I’ve been tossing the reality of this around in my mind for eighteen months. It’s only now, coming here, embarking on this adventure, that I’m acting, rather than existing in limbo.

Decision made, I turn and walk to the counter.

“I’ll take it, please.”

The woman just smiles and nods as if it was the most natural thing. “Of course. I knew you would. I hope this crystal guides you well on your journey.”

Maybe she’s psychic; maybe I’m just easy to read. It doesn’t matter. I’m here to experience life and everything it has to offer. It’s time to step out from behind the safety fence, and now, I have a new crystal to remind me of that.