“He’s always with me,” Jennifer acknowledged. “I feel him with me. He came to me when I almost died on the emergency-room table.”
Kathy Dart reached out to touch Jennifer’s arm. “Danny is with you, Jenny. Always. He is one of your spirits. And Margit Engle is another. They—and others from your oversoul—are here to guide and protect you. Just like myself, Habasha, Eileen, Simon. We’re all part of your oversoul, members of your support system.” Her pretty face was full of assurance.
“But I still don’t know what is troubling me, or which life is the source of these rages.”
Kathy Dart nodded sympathetically.
“Soon,” she whispered, “soon.” She nodded toward the row of needles. “I think with another session, we’ll have the truth.”
Now she stood and patted Jennifer on the shoulder. “Why don’t you rest here for a while,” she said. “I’ll shut off the light and you can take a nap.”
Jennifer smiled. “Thanks. I think I will. I do feel sleepy.”
“Regressions are exhausting.” Kathy went to the door and dimmed the lights. “I’ll come back later to see if you’re all right. You’ve had an exhausting morning, Jennifer, but I think we’re very close to getting some answers.”
“Yes,” Jennifer whispered, closing her eyes. “I think we are, Kathy. Thank you.”
“Thank Habasha, Jenny. He holds the eternal truths. I’m simply the messenger.”
Kathy Dart closed the door, leaving Jennifer in the dark.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
JENNIFER OPENED HER EYES in the dark clinic and saw that Simon had come into the room. Her heart beat against her chest. He must hear the wild pounding, she thought, and she took a deep breath in an effort to silence her body.
“Yes?” she asked, not moving.
“I spoke to Kathy. She said you were resting.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I came to see if you were okay.” He was beside her. His face, inches away from hers, was silhouetted in the dark room.
“Yes, I’m okay. Thank you.”
They were almost like lovers, Jennifer thought, whispering in the dark.
“Would you like me to give you a massage?” he asked. “I know that past-life recall is very tiring. You go through so many time frames.”
“I’ve never had a massage,” Jennifer admitted, “except when—” She stopped midsentence, remembering how in college her boyfriend had given her massages before they had made love. “What do you do? What types of massage, I mean.”
“I know a lot of different methods, actually. There are the shiatsu and acupressure systems. They use finger and hand pressure on the body’s energy meridians—the same principle as acupuncture, except without the needles. Or Swedish, which is body manipulation. I was taught that as a kid by my uncle. Then there’s reflexology, you know, the kind that focuses on your feet and hands.”
“They’re all different?”
“Yes, and all are for different purposes. Hydrotherapy, for example, uses water and develops muscle tone, helps reduce swelling. Esthetic massage is a way to improve your looks.”
“Good, I could use that one.”
“No, you’re already very beautiful,” he said.
Jennifer smiled, afraid to say anything.
“And then there’s myotherapy for the treatment of muscular pain.” Simon went on. “And sports massage for runners, you know.” He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
“And you know them all?”
“Kathy sent me to school.”
“Of course.” Jennifer pulled herself up on her right elbow and turned toward Simon. “What massage does Kathy have?” she asked.
“I always give her a Swedish massage.”
“Then that’s what I want.”
“Good!” Simon smiled. He stood up and stepped across the small room, moving carefully in the darkness.
He was out of the wash of light, but still Jennifer could see him open the closet and take out a low, padded bench. He placed it on the floor, then returned to the table and handed her a folded white sheet.
“You’ll need to put this on,” he told her, and turned away.
She swung her legs over the side of the table and put on the sheet. “Oh, it’s cold,” she said.
“That’s okay. I’ll warm you up.” Simon had knelt beside the table and was pulling several thick towels from the bottom drawer of the built-in wall cabinet.
“I’ll be using oil on your body,” he told her. “It’s warm and it will keep your skin smooth.” He was all business.
Now that the early intimacy between them had passed, she felt curiously let down. He glanced around and saw that Jennifer had tucked the long sheet around her body. “Ready?”
“I guess.” She felt foolish now and vulnerable.
“Here,” he whispered, taking her hand and gently maneuvering her into position on the table. He slipped a thick, rolled-up towel beneath her ankles, and another under her head, then turned her head so she faced the corner of the room. Jennifer closed her eyes, aware only of his strong hands on her back.
“I want you to relax and keep your eyes closed,” he whispered. “I’m not going to talk at all, and I want you to focus on your body. Your neck muscles are very tight. Let me begin there.” Leaning forward, Simon placed his hands, wet with oil, on her back. She shivered at his touch, and he whispered, “Relax, Jenny, relax and enjoy.”
He began slowly and steadily to stroke her neck and back muscles with his strong hands, sliding them evenly down her back and up again. Jennifer felt herself grow sleepy, and gradually she let go of her defenses and surrendered herself to the pleasure of the massage.
Simon moved to her legs, kneading the calf muscles. She moaned when his fingers tightened on her legs, and he whispered an apology.
“It’s okay,” she answered, tucking her arms around the thick towel. She could lie there forever, she thought. She loved the feel of his hands on her body. “You have wonderful fingers,” she told him.
“Shhh,” he whispered. Moving to the bottom of the table, Simon began to gently stroke one foot, then the other. He began at the ankle and stroked toward the toes. She felt the tension disappear from her leg.
“I want you to do this to me every day,” she mumbled.
“My pleasure,” Simon answered, smiling in the dark. Slowly, he stroked up her leg, across her calf, up her thigh to her buttocks.
The loose sheet had slipped off her back, but she didn’t care. It was dark in the room; she could not see him and was aware only of his hands and what they were doing to her body.
“Do you do this with Kathy?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes,” Simon whispered. He was close beside her now, and she could smell the warm, fragrant oil on his fingers. “And now I’m doing it to you.”
Simon turned her body with his hands, exposing her breasts. She reached down and draped the end of the long sheet across her waist. Slowly, carefully, he used his fingers and the palms of both hands to stroke her shoulder muscles, to pinch away the tightness and pain. Then he moved down the length of her body, using his hands carefully on her abdomen, kneading her thighs and calves, returning to her feet and stroking her to the tips of her toes.
He was working steadily, breathing harder from his steady effort, but he did not stop, and Jennifer fell silent, following obediently his hand signals, turning her body the way he directed. By now she was naked on the low table, and in the dim light, she saw the crumpled shapes of the discarded sheets.
Then she felt his hands on her thighs, rapidly striking her with the palms of his hands. He stopped and kneaded her legs with his strong fingers, then slipped his hands between her legs. She gasped.