The Kitchen Shrink (13 page)

We headed back into my kitchen. “I like the curvature of your island. In Feng Shui, you want to avoid straight lines and sharp corners, especially where people will be standing or sitting.”

She swayed her body, moving her hands like a hula girl. “You can feel the flow of energy through your kitchen. This is a good space. Elgin has done a nice job.” She approved of the kitchen layout but when she stuck her head in my laundry room off the kitchen she let out a shriek.

Her hands went up and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, I guess to help soothe her scarred chi or ward off evil.

When she could talk, she stepped back into my kitchen. I felt really guilty and I knew what she was going to say.

“Yeah,” I invited her to smile with me, “we’ve had that fish practically forever. Seriously, the kids can’t remember when it wasn’t there.”

“You’re divorced, right?” she accused.

“Oh, come on. My divorce didn’t have anything to do with Orange Juice, the world’s oldest living goldfish,” I tried to protest. Nicole had named him.

“‘Living’ is such a strong word,” she muttered. Now she was rubbing her fingers across a swatch of the ends of her hair, like a baby trying to self-soothe.

“Well, he used to be over in the corner,” I tried to explain, “but with all the construction I had to move him into the laundry room, and he’s kind of gone downhill.”

“Lisby. He is swimming downhill. Fish are supposed to swim sideways, not bob up and down with their head pointing south like they’re doing a head stand.”

“I know. The pet store gave me some medicine for ich but it hasn’t been working.”

“Ich,” Elgin echoed, plugging his nose.

“You know what you have to do,” Mai-Li said.

“No. I can’t.” I couldn’t believe it, but my eyes started watering. Over a fish. A fish I didn’t particularly like since I was always the one who got stuck changing the water and feeding it. A fish I’d be much happier without, but like many unpleasant things in my life, a sick fish that I didn’t want to deal with and therefore, would put up with.

“Do it now. It’s totally disrupting the positive energy in your house, the energy in your new kitchen. I totally felt it when I walked in.”

Now that the heat was off of him and on poor Orange Juice, Elgin returned. “I felt it too,” he said. What an idiot.

“OK, Mai-Li. You’re right. I’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of it now. It’s the right thing to do, Lisby,” Mai-Li said to me. “He’s suffering.”

“I know, but my kids have had that fish for a couple of years. I don’t want to upset them, and I don’t want to be the one to pull the trigger.”

Elgin rubbed my back and then pushed me toward the bowl. “You’re not pulling the trigger, silly. You’re flushing the handle.”

I picked up the bowl and in a procession, followed by Elgin, Mai-Li and Sam, shooting the whole thing, headed into the bathroom. I felt so stupid and sad, but I had to say something. “Bye, Orange Juice. You were a good fish. Good luck.”

“Good luck with what?” Elgin snorted behind me.

I poured him in and flushed. I tried to blink away the puddles in the corner of my eyes. “My kids are going to be so sad.”

I remembered how Nicole, who used to stare at that goldfish with the same intensity she now used in her own mirror, told me that goldfish only have ten second memories. She was so glad, she told me, since she was worried about how boring it must be for them in their little glass bowls.

“Aw honey,” I had praised her, “did you learn that in school?” I had been so proud of her, thinking she was this little scientist. She read it off the cap of a Snapple bottle.

Mai-Li shoved Elgin aside and put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s not always easy to embrace Feng Shui, but it is right to do so. Change of any kind is always hard. We’re creatures of habit and don’t like to upset the status quo. But, sometimes you have to change it up and experience new emotions in order to grow. But, you know that, right?”

“I guess,” I said.

She pulled me back into the kitchen. “Take a deep breath, and feel. The energy is lighter now.”

Whatever, I thought.

Mai-Li continued. “You have taken positive steps and are on the right path.” She held up her hand.

“However, there is one more thing. When I drove up, I also felt negative chi swirling in the neighborhood. Rumors, gossip, innuendo fly between the spaces of the houses.”

I laughed. I was starting to feel better about ending poor Orange Juice’s suffering. “Are you kidding me? It’s suburbia. What do you think swirls between the houses? Everybody likes to be up in everybody else’s business.”

“You need protection,” she told me. “You need to place a crystal at the foot of your stairs to catch the sunlight and help redirect the shifting negative energy in the space. Mirrors are also good.”

Thank goodness, she had a crystal, on a red satin string, that I could purchase for forty bucks to help protect my household from bad karma. Such a deal! Sam filmed me hanging it.

Mai-Li nodded. “Red is a strong color, but powerful. The user must be careful how it is channeled.”

That’s all I was waiting for. I began my whine like Gwyneth Paltrow to Mai-Li about the stupid Rojo Ha Elgin was going to paint my kitchen.

She raised her hands and stopped my tirade. “Enough.” She sounded like some empress, ordering me to take a vow of silence or something. “You have been given many tools. They are yours to choose how to use. You will feel a difference...so make a difference.”

That’s deep, I remember thinking. So deep I was out of my element, that’s for sure. I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

Mai-Li headed to the door and stepped outside. “Thanks, Mai-Li,” I told her. “A lot of what you said made sense.” I smiled and waved.

She looked back over her shoulder. “You need a wind chime, too.”

“I can do that.”

She bowed her head and though I swear I didn’t have a girl-crush on her I really wanted to stroke her hair. I was about to ask her what kind of conditioner she used but felt I would be breaking her otherworldly meditation. I wanted to prove that I was bigger than earthly concerns about silky smooth hair and that I was evolved enough to embrace universal harmony and balance. Hmm. Maybe that’s what she used on her hair; Harmony and Balance. I planned on seeking out that hair conditioner.

Mai-Li lifted her head, her eyes seeking out Elgin. Yeah, give him some guidance, I prayed.

“So, when will this be on TV?” she asked him.

Elgin got his way and Sam filmed me painting the horrendous gash of color on my pristine kitchen walls. If the name alone made me crazy, Rojo Ha, the color made me want to charge a bull-fighter. Or Elgin. Olé. I rolled the roller, swiping it in a huge W, back and forth, and let the crew do all the cutting in around the edges and painting the corners, by the windows and the mop boards. Screw it. I didn’t care. The color was atrocious and I knew the crew thought so, too. I did think Elgin was incredibly talented but I also think he made a big mistake and didn’t have the cojones to admit it.

“You’re using the wrong color for the wrong purpose for all the wrong reasons,” I told Elgin. I looked over at Sam. “Have enough footage?”

He poked his head out from behind his camera. “I think you’ve had enough,” he said.

I put down my roller and walked toward the foot of the stairs.

“Nicole!” I hollered so loudly I could see Dustin flinch under his audio headsets. “Sorry,” I mouthed toward him.

She showed up in a swoosh. I knew she would since I knew she was upstairs eavesdropping, waiting to talk to me.

“Honey. A belly-button ring?” She had been badgering me ever since her Dad gave her the OK. I had put her off as long as I could. “I thought we decided to wait until you’re 18. Or got straight A’s.” I wouldn’t have to hold my breath on that one.

“Mom. I’m 15, I’m getting good grades, you know how long I’ve wanted this and besides…”

I said it along with her, “All my friends are doing it.”

“Even Bailey got her belly button pierced,” she said, referring to one of her friends whose mom must have been a bigger square than me. “Besides, Dad already said I could.”

Nicole was a charmer. She was also stubborn. When she got an idea in her head she wanted what she wanted when she wanted it; yesterday. “Honey, the risk of infection is high. You could get really sick and I’ve heard it hurts-a lot.”

She was shaking her head and smiling, knowing she all the answers, and the OK from her Dad. “I’ll take good care of it and keep it cleaned and everything.”

I tried some more but knew I was just going through the motions. Fun Dad strikes again. “Here’s the deal.” I finally had to give in. “I will do my homework and try to find a good, sterile place to have it done. If I’m not comfortable, at any time, we call it off.”

She threw herself in my arms. “Thanks, Momma. Luvs ya.” She flew back upstairs probably to call all her friends.

I got on the internet and tried to ignore my stomach ache. I found a place on Highway 101 up along the coast. I called and talked to the head piercer, Joel.

“Yeah, man, it’s cool, it’s cool. All of our equipment is sterilized in our auto-clave and we only use one-use only needles. Our rings are all implant grade surgical steel, titanium, silver or gold, whatever you want.”

He answered all my questions, said he’d been doing it for seven years, and told me to bring Nicole in; he’d be there all afternoon. Nicole was so excited she was a doll; sweet and charming. Or maybe I appreciated her more in the wake of the huge fight I had with my own mom. I should have at least bartered harder and gotten Nicole to clean her closet.

Elgin seemed to think this was some sort of a ‘rite of passage’ and sent Sam up with us to shoot Nicole’s piercing. He made us wear microphones in the car but Nicole was in such a good mood she didn’t care. My palms were sweating and slippery on the steering wheel. “Are you sure you really want to do this?”

My 15-going-on-flirty daughter just beamed. “Thanks, Mom,” she leaned her head over and kissed my arm. She did know me well enough to know how hard this was on me, but she also knew how to work me. She knew I adored her and hated to say no. She knew I loved her and was trying to respect her and her decisions. I thought back on my childhood. I was such a nerd at 15. And 20. Twenty-five come to think of it. Nicole, on the other hand, seemed to be born with an innate sense of style. Good for her, I thought, glancing over at her, wondering what she was thinking. Probably how hot she was going to look.

Now that we were on our way up the coast, I tried to enjoy the experience. We didn’t talk much, but in a good way. Nicole controlled the radio, for our listening pleasure. She always loved car rides and it was nice to just be with her. It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon, heading up through Del Mar, overlooking the ocean on our way to the tattoo parlor. My mom would so freak. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Tat2 was on the west side of the street, a funky old-looking beach shack. We pulled in and parked and Nicole took my hand. Hers was damp as she gave me quick squeeze. “You OK?” I asked.

She ginned.

We walked into an incense-filled den of iniquity. The buzz of someone getting a tattoo hummed loudly from the back of the shop. A tattooed man sat on a faded couch reading a magazine while an older woman who had to be in her 60s sat next to him, wearing Daisy Dukes and a midriff top. Rock on, I thought.

“I’m Joel,” said the guy behind the counter, sporting those ear stretching tunnels in each lobe. He had tattoos beginning from his left wrist, marching all the way up his arm and right back down his right arm to his right wrist.

“Hi, Joel. I’m Lisby, we spoke on the phone about my daughter, Nicole.” I nodded at her. “She wants her belly button pierced.”

“Hey.” He smiled at Nicole.

I introduced him to Sam and Dustin, who were bringing in the camera gear and setting up a light. Elgin had called and talked to the manager to get permission, and Sam had releases for everyone in the shop to sign. Joel signed the paper and then showed us the jewelry selection, explaining to Nicole how it worked and how important it was to clean the piercing several times a day with a saline solution.

“I’ll let you guys talk about it, and I’ll go get your permission form if you want to go ahead,” he said, disappearing behind a curtain.

Nicole looked up at me, her eyes wide.

“I like him and I’m comfortable. He knows his stuff. It’s up to you,” I said.

She was scared, but determined. Joel came back with a questioning look. I held my hand out for the paper and signed off my permission. He took us to the front room that had an antique dentist’s chair. Joel pulled on latex gloves and carefully cleaned Nicole’s belly button with Betadine scrub and showed me the sterilized, packaged equipment. He measured Nicole’s belly button then stood her up and carefully marked where he would be doing the piercing, showing her where the needle would go in and come out. She looked in the mirror and nodded.

His voice was soothing as he eased her back into the chair. “Body piercing is one of the most ancient forms of body art. Archaeologists found a 4,000 year old statue with holes in its ears for piercings.”

“I bet her mother wasn’t too happy, either.”

“Mom,” Nicole said. Joel just laughed.

“Mayans used to pierce their tongues in spiritual rituals,” he continued.

“Ugh.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Egyptian pharaohs used to pierce their navels in a rite of passage. Are you sure you don’t want to get it done?” he asked me.

“Yeah, mom, do it,” Nicole said.

Sam swung the camera right into my face and I tried not to wince.

“That’s not the part of my body that I want to be calling attention to,” I said, tugging on my shirt, knowing I sounded like a prude.

“That’s cool,” Joel said. “To each his own.”

I looked into the other room, at the tattooed man, and further back, at a younger guy getting a new tattoo. I didn’t understand it, but I respected it. The artwork really was amazing and intricate. “You know, those tribal armband tattoos are pretty sexy.”