Page 2 of Summer Affair
Jillian’s heart picked up, and an empowering flutter warmed her chest. That’s what she wanted. To remember how to love herself. To fill up her passion cup so that she didn’t start her day depleted. She was even open to some adult fun with no strings, but mainly she was on a mission to find her inner Girl on Fire.
Now, I want you to pull out yourGet it, Girllist. Look at it and let your brain absorb each and every resolution.
Jillian smoothed a hand down the paper and looked at her list. It had exactly twenty items that she’d compiled earlier that day. She’d settled on twenty because it was an even number and divisible by two, five, and ten.
Now, I want you to turn to a clean page and at the top, under the first item, I want you to write: One—Stop making lists. If it’s important, you’ll remember it.
Jillian hit Pause. “What kind of list asks you to abandon the list?”
She could scarcely remember to put on underwear, let alone an entire list of to-do tasks. It would be like going to the grocery store and saying,Okay chips and powdered-sugar doughnuts, come jump in my cartand then forgetting the kale.
If Jillian was going to take the time to write a list, then everything on said list was important.
Hoping Dr.Claire was joking, she hit Play.
I know for most of you, that’s a hard thing to wrap your brain around. But the only way you are going to get in touch with …
Fftt …
Fftt …
Fftt …
Jillian fast-forwarded to the next step.
I want you to go back a moment, to when I asked you to abandon your list. How did that make you feel?
“Like this is a stupid podcast and I’m wasting my time,” Jillian said.
I often get words like empowered, alive, ready for anything that comes my way.
“Then they’re liars,” Jillian announced.
Fftt …
Fftt …
Fftt …
Now for number two. I want you to really think about what your second resolution would be. It can be one from your discarded list or one that stands out in your mind. Without peeking, I want you to envision it.
Jillian chose to quickly write her next rule, then read it back to herself. “Rename Resolutions to Recommendations, so that I can, at any time, ignore them without a trace of guilt.”
And because she felt that was more of a guideline and she made her own rules, she wrote down another resolution. A real make-change, show-what-you’re-made-of kind of resolution that would take her from frazzled single mom to sexy, proud-to-be-single woman.
Taking a fortifying-sized sip of wine, Jillian walked to the pool’s edge and dipped her toe in—just one. Then, with her confidence boosted, she submerged her entire foot before stepping on the top step.
The pool was set to a balmy eighty-seven degrees, and she could see the steam rising off the surface. Feel the nerves floating up in her belly like helium balloons. Hear that Girl on Fire telling her to jump without a life preserver.
Closing her eyes, she undid her robe, letting it slide down to her elbows and reveal her bikini, and jumped. Well, slid down to the next step and said to the stars above, loud and proud, “Lose the negative whispers and lose that suit.”
“While I’m in strong favor of both those statements, you might want to wait until I turn my back,” a very low, very unexpected voice said from the abyss at the deep end of the pool.
Jillian squeaked. Panic rose and grabbed her by the throat, and every horror movie she’d ever watched came flooding back. She moved backward, her robe’s belt catching between her legs, yanking the silky cover-up and sending it into the water, where it slowly sank to the pool’s bottom, leaving her in three scraps of material with teal strings.
Telling herself it was the wine, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Your imagination is working overtime, and you are dreaming.”
“It bodes well for me that you imagine me in your dreams.”
