“No debit card?”
“No.”
“So you’re paying for rent, utilities, and food with cash?”
“Yes.” I return a resolute nod.
“Where is all this cash?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I grin.
“You don’t have a job. What are you going to do when the money runs out?”
“Six months. I brought enough for six months.” That’s a half truth. I brought enough money for six months if my rent was reasonable. My accepting Nolan’s offering of a thousand dollars without so much as a counter offer was very unlike me. In all fairness, I wasn’t myself.
“Then you’re going back to London to get married?”
I hop out as he parks the truck. “That was plan A,” I whisper to myself as I walk up the wood-plank ramp to the back door, carrying my windmill and a guilt-ridden conscience.
*
Yimin bows ashe does every time I walk in his house.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
He puts my tea and juice on the table.
“I had lettuce yesterday. I didn’t want to, but I did. Then I added some cooked veg to my broth last night. I feel good, but I look like hell. I’m going back to solid food. It’s just a body and I know it, but I have this… itch.” My nose wrinkles.
Theo was right. I look awfully gaunt since starting my liquid cleanse. Nolan was also right, as much as it freaks me out toadmit it. I had been experiencing some pain, but over the past few weeks the pain has disappeared. Looking in the mirror lately, it would appear that I’ve been doing the same thing.
Yes. I look like hell, but I’ve never felt better.
“Your books? They tell you to expect these symptoms. Yes?” he asks.
Yimin has been supportive of my desire to test out some of the theories I’ve found in my plethora of books. It started with eliminating everything that wasn’t a plant in an attempt to make my body more alkaline. Disease flourishes in acidic bodies. The next book discussed the miracles of fasting and liquid diets. The theory being that the body heals itself when it’s not busy digesting food all the time.
“Well, yes. There can be side effects to liquid fasts, but that’s not exactly what I’m implying.”
Yimin nods once, but I don’t think it’s because he understands. “Toxins leaving your body can cause rashes. I can give you a salve for it.”
“No. Um… I don’t think you have a salve for my itch. It’s more of aneed.”
He nods again. Still, there’s no way he gets my point yet. This is awkward.
“I want to look physically more appealing so that a man might be willing to… scratch my itch.”
His eyebrows lift a fraction. “Sex?”
It’s my turn to nod.
He leans forward, placing his hand over mine. “Let your body live. That’s why you’re here.”
I blink back the tears. “I hope so,” I whisper.
He nods to the table. “Eat. Don’t eat. It’s your journey. But for now, drink then scratch.”
