Lies and Weddings(4)
RG: I’ll hold you to it.
ET: Gotta run.
RG: Bye.
Moments after their text conversation had ended, Rufus sent off another text to his sister Augusta.
RG: Why am I the last one to find out that Eden isn’t coming to Hawaii? I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t want her beside you on your special day. Shall I talk to Mum? Happy to take the heat on this.
II
Lady Augusta Gresham
SOUTH KONA, THE ISLAND OF HAWAII ? MOMENTS LATER
Augusta saw the text come in from her brother, but she chose to ignore it. She had other problems to deal with that were of far more importance to her, and at present she and Gopal Das were strolling through the exquisite grounds of the Bellaloha Resort, where every blade of grass had been perfectly positioned as if god had intended it, although it was really the work of Augusta’s mother, Lady Arabella, and her very expensive team of Belgian landscape designers. Augusta (Willcocks/Cheltenham/UWC Atlantic/Bard) headed toward the cliffside promontory where an elaborate Balinese pavilion had been erected and gestured halfheartedly to her spiritual advisor. “This is where we’re supposed to do the vows.”
“It’s beautiful,” Gopal Das said, smiling serenely at his beautiful British-Chinese acolyte.
“You think so?”
“Absolutely. Just look at these beams, and the love that was put into carving them.”
They approached the altar positioned at the edge of the cliff and gazed out at the dramatic view of the Kona coastline just as the sun was dipping into the ocean. Gopal Das (Brimmer and May/Groton/Williams/UC Berkeley/Four Winds Shaman School), a tall, lanky Caucasian man in his midforties with shoulder-length strawberry-blond hair and a matching beard stretched out his densely freckled arms in a godlike manner. “Let us welcome this blessed sunset. I’ve never seen a painting that captures the beauty of the ocean at a moment like this.”
Augusta cocked her head. “That sounds so familiar. Is that Pema Ch?dr?n?”
“Er…no.”
“Oh, I know, it’s a quote from Ram Dass.”
“Could’ve been him,” Gopal Das said vaguely.[*] “Tell me, Augie, how do you feel, standing here in this sacred space, where in just four days you and Maxxie will be exchanging your vows?”
A cloud came over Augie’s face. “It doesn’t feel sacred to me at all.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Mummy designed every square meter of this resort. It’s the new jewel in her hotel empire that she’s waiting to show off to the world, and she’s turning my soul union with Maxxie into a coronation for herself. This entire resort makes me feel very…ungrounded.”
“Well then, let’s ground you.” The guru led his acolyte down the steps of the pavilion onto the dewy grass, and they sat facing each other in lotus position.
Gopal Das tucked the tight white tee that showed off his sinewy pecs into his camo-green cargo shorts and said, “Close your eyes. Now breathe in deeply…. Let your first chakra connect with the ground, rooting in the earth, connecting with Gaia, connecting with spirit. Now, what do you feel?”
“Sadness,” Augie admitted.
“Good. Sadness cannot hurt you. Let us not judge this sadness, but rather, think of it as a ball, a white ball floating just in front of you. Tell me what you see in the ball.”
“I see my mother. She’s such a controlling bitch. She’s forcing me to get married here in this fake Balinese temple and not actually in Bali where I’ve dreamed of having my wedding ever since I saw Eat Pray Love. I can’t believe she’s forcing me to wear Valentino.”
“Valentino cannot hurt you. You are a grown woman and your mother cannot force you to do anything. She has no control over your body.”
Augie let out a sharp sob.
“Shall we go deeper into that? What is hiding behind that sob?”
“Avocados,” Augie muttered as she began to cry softly.
“Good. Avocados cannot hurt you. Why do avocados make you feel this way?”
“Mummy forced me to eat half an avocado every morning as a child. That’s all I was ever allowed for breakfast, while Rufus and Bea got to have all the scrambled eggs and Cumberland sausages and Nutella crepes they wanted. Rufus was ‘a growing boy,’ my little sister Bea was always ‘the perfect angel,’ but I was the ‘jyu pa.’ That’s ‘pork chop’ in Cantonese. Mummy would make me strip naked, pinch my tummy hard, and measure my body fat with these freezing-cold calipers. She said no handsome prince would ever want to marry a pork chop.”
“But look at you today. You are not a pork chop and you have found your handsome prince.”
Augie cracked a smile for the first time that evening. “I have, haven’t I?”
“A prince who treasures you for your beautiful heart and your beautiful soul, not your body, which, I might add, is beautiful too.”
“He does, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, and you manifested him into your life.”
“Actually, my mother manifested him, with the help of Nicolai Chalamet-Chaude, that fucking social clim—”
“Augie, every word you say carries its own energy. There is no need to drop the F-bomb at this moment.”