Echo Soul Seekers

coming. But now that she’s said it, her impromptu visit makes perfect sense.
    “When?” My voice rises with suspicion. “Exactly when did Harlan propose?”
    She turns away, fumbles through her makeup case in a lame attempt to stall. Sighing in surrender, she admits, “Last week. On Malibu Beach. At sunset.” She makes a face of distaste, as though he committed a detestable act in a hideous way.
    “So that’s why…” I shoot her a knowing look, purposely leaving the sentence to dangle unfinished.
    “That’s why—what? What’re you getting at, Daire?” She dips a big fluffy brush in a pot of glittery bits and swirls it over my cheeks.
    “That’s why you’re here. That’s why you hopped the first plane to Enchantment. You’re running away from Harlan—from commitment—from life!” My eyes blaze on hers. So caught up in the excitement of discovery, of being absolutely sure that I’m right, I almost miss the twitch of pain that crosses her face. Almost—but not quite.
    “I’m here because it’s Christmas and I wanted to spend time with my daughter.” She insists on sticking to her story, despite the fact that the jig is up. “Why’s that so hard for you to believe?”
    “It’s not that I don’t believe it.” I watch her closely. “It’s just that it’s not the full truth. There’s more to it than that, and you know it. C’mon, Jennika, why can’t you just admit that as much as you claim to hate it, Enchantment has become your new go-to spot when you can’t take the heat?”
    Her face grows dark in a way that tells me I’ve ventured way past her personal limits. But as someone who’s recently freed myself from my own iron-clad cage, I know deep in my heart that she needs to hear it. So I go on to add, “Even you have to admit that now that you’re settled full time in LA, it’s getting harder and harder to escape all the things you once fled. You know, things like love. And commitment. And the very real, very tangible possibility of settling down with a guy as great, and talented, and nice, and patient—and, yes—even good-looking—or at least for an old guy—as Harlan.” I smile when I say it, but she refuses to return the smile. “For the first time in a long time, you have a permanent address—a place for all of your personal demons to pile up on your doorstep, waiting to be dealt with. And now that you’re all out of excuses—now that you can’t just up and leave for the next makeup gig on the other side of the world—you’re forced to face all of this and it scares the crap out of you. So, what do you do? You come visit me.”
    I fold my arms across my chest, challenging her to refute it. But she just rolls her eyes and says, “Well, who turned you into Dr. Phil?”
    “Why don’t you give him a chance?” I urge. “Why don’t you plug your nose, close your eyes, and jump in? See how far you can fall without losing yourself? I’m pretty sure Harlan knows what he’s getting into. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t expect you to give up your career or even your name. I’m pretty sure he just wants you for you.”
    Jennika takes a moment. Whether to consider my words or wait for the subject to die an inevitable death, I can’t be sure. All I know is that when she looks at me again, her voice is as resigned as the expression she wears on her face.
    “You can either let me do your lips or you can continue to psychoanalyze me. Your choice, Daire. You decide just how soon you get out of here.”
    Our eyes meet and I decide to let her have this one. By planting the seed, I’ve already won.
    Then I raise my chin, pucker my lips, and settle before her again. Allowing her to swipe a thick layer of gloss across my mouth as I mumble, “I’m just sayin’…”
    “Yeah, me too.” Her voice rings tired and agitated but in a good way. In a way that tells me she’s considering a future she’s denied herself for too long. “I’m just sayin’ too.”

 
    twenty-seven
    Dace
    From the time I leave my place to the time I get to the Rabbit Hole, I must’ve checked my coat pocket at least twenty times. But that doesn’t stop me from checking again. Nor does it stop the sigh of relief when I find the small, wrapped package that contains Daire’s Secret Santa gift is still there.
    Despite the fact that the heart-shaped turquoise piece far exceeds the twenty-dollar limit, at first glance it probably seems underwhelming. The beauty of the stone—its obvious