Chapter 3

Chapter 3

There are many ways for a woman to get over a man, and vice versa. In some places, they say the best way for a woman to get over a man is to get under another one. Not so everywhere.

Alison had chosen another path. Abstention. After thirty odd years of marriage, she needed time to find herself. Her old identity no longer applied. Finding her way with Henry’s guidance was working beyond her expectations. She was discovering a heightened appreciation of herself and her abilities. The more she read, the more confident she became. Attending seminars and meeting people, she found herself increasingly comfortable in her own skin.

And now, this. The thrill of seeing Henry again, in person, was compelling. Yet she feared it would be the end of a process she wasn’t ready to give up. Perhaps she should cancel. “Let’s see it through,” she told herself.

Over the next few days, Alison kept busy with her assignments. She took some time off for lunch with Helen but she determined not to tell her about their pending date. They met at Henri’s, an upscale restaurant over looking Nomos Lake. She heard her name as she approached the receptionist.

“Alison! Over here. Across the room, at a doorway leading to the veranda, her friend motioned to her. She smiled at the receptionist and proceeded to the doorway.

“Helen, honey, I am so happy you’re here early. There’s so much to tell. I’m about to explode.”

“First, let’s order our drinks.” Helen motioned toward a round table for two at the water’s edge and flagged the waiter. Two ice teas please, one sweet, the other regular.”

“Come, sit, tell me everything.” Helen said.

“First of all, Helen, I have to thank you for connecting me with Henry. I have grown so much over these last months, I can’t believe it’s still me. Truth is, I’m not me – or more accurately I am not the person I was, and I owe it all to you.”

“Honey, if you’re different, and I agree, you are, it’s because you recreated yourself. Honestly, I hardly ever see you anymore, so I know it wasn’t me. Now I do agree, Henry may have played a part. I ask him about you every time we have a session but he refuses to comment. He is so, oh, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do know what you mean. He likes to maintain confidentiality, as well he should. But I can tell you anything you want to know. So, should I start, or do you have specific questions?”

“No, you go ahead,” Helen said as the waiter placed the iced teas in front of them. “Give us a few minutes, won’t you? I’ll signal you when we’re ready to order.”

“That’s fine, ma’am. Call when you’re ready.”

Helen returned her attention to Alison. “You have put an amazing amount of effort into your transformation. I can’t believe it’s you. I mean, you look the same but your energy level is so much higher, and your intensity, and yes, even the way you think. It’s evident in your every behavior.”

“Did you experience similar changes as you worked with him? Did your awareness grow with every session?”

“No. The truth is, Alison, when we started out, Henry applied his skills for me as he does for you. But I’m afraid I wasn’t as committed to becoming as my words would have you believe. He gave me advice, yes, and he suggested books and activities I could benefit from but in subsequent conversations, he would ask me what I read or how I applied my knowledge and it became clear in short order that I was not filling my commitments – to him, and more importantly, to myself.

“A couple months after I introduced you to him, he suggested that I was not ready to move ahead, so it made little sense to continue. He couldn’t help someone who was unwilling to help herself.”

Helen looked away for a moment, her chin falling to her chest. The fun Helen was replaced by a more reflective one. When she spoke, in a quiet, almost subdued tone she said, “Alison, he released me. I was fired.”

In the silence that ensued, Alison found herself uneasy at Helen’s disclosure. Why would she pass on such an opportunity to remake her life? Did she not see what was before her? One question alone came to her lips. “Why?”

Alison, I discovered that I don’t really want to change. Life is good enough as it is. I have enough money to live modestly, and my social life is really enjoyable. I have a couple good prospects, men that adore me, even want to marry me. Life with either one of them could be thrilling. George loves to dance, and he goes on two or three cruises a year. He has a lovely home. And Johnny…”

“Is that all you’ve found out, that you want a sugar daddy? What about your dreams, of writing of public speaking, of applying your talents for the benefit of the community at large?” Did you not read any of the books? Did you not consider in any deep way the questions he posed? Helen, what were you thinking?”

“Seeing you today, experiencing first hand the transformative effects he had on you, I see what I gave up by not taking things seriously. Truth is, I see what I might have become had I made the commitment to myself. But, honestly, I can tell you that while I am thrilled at what he did for you, I know that it isn’t for me. I know it’s not the best thing for me, long term, but who knows, I may still land on my feet.”

As she absorbed Helen’s words, Alison found herself growing in admiration for Henry, this quiet, unassuming man, with seemingly endless questions and a wealth of suggestions. OK, so it wasn’t for Helen but it worked wonders for her, and that’s all that mattered. She still had a friend at this table. In fact it was the same friend she had always had -- unchanged and possibly unchangeable.

“Say, we still have to order. What are you going to have?” she asked, leaning forward to cover Helen’s hand with her own.

Alison stood before the dressing mirror, double checking her appearance as butterflies held court in her stomach.

She felt at once comfortable in a blue flowered dress and black heels, at the same time a bit uncomfortable as she hadn’t worn something so formal in over a year. Her make up was very lightly applied, thanks to soft, clear skin, a genetic gift from her mother.

Doubts filled her mind, distracting her from the finishing touches. I had been almost a year since Harold had packed his bags. The thought of ‘Alison on a date’ had her a bit unnerved. The ringing doorbell brought her back to the moment, One final look, and she proceeded to her door.

Henry was a commanding presence as he stood before her, in blue blazer, tan slacks and a white crew neck, She had forgotten how tall he was and how confidently he projected himself.

“Welcome,” she said, opening the screen door. “Please, Come in.”

Henry smiled as he entered, his eyes adjusting to the light. “You have a very nice home,” he intoned as he turned to face her squarely. “You look lovely.”

Alison felt her cheeks reddening. “Thank you. You look very nice, too. Would you care for a drink, a Merlot perhaps?”

Henry nodded. “That would be nice.”

Alsion led the way through the living room to the lanai, where a fresh bottle of wine was chilling, adjacent to stemware. “Would you do the honors, please?” she asked, offering him the opener. Henry accepted. He gave the wine time to breathe before pouring, then turned his attention to the garden.

“Is this your handiwork?”

“Yes, and my therapy. I can only get so much from my lessons.”
Smiling, Henry looked warmly into her eyes and nodded. “I know what you mean. Working in the soil has a claming, curative effect on the mind. I don’t do as much as I’d like with my schedule but I have been able to create some gardens in my yards in Thailand and in Spain. I make sure my weekends are my own.”

Returning his gaze, Alison sipped her wine. “My time is in the evenings, after ‘class’, so to speak.

With a gesture, she led Henry along the garden path to share its colors and scents. She points out the flowers as she goes along.

“During the days, I follow your guidance, attend some networking events and seminars and, occasionally have lunch with our friend, Helen.”

Henry’s ears perked up at hearing Helen’s name. “Yes, Helen. How is she?” he asks as he sips from his glass.

“She’s fine. She told me that she is no longer a client.”

Henry’s attention is focused on the red roses, which he inspects gently. “Coaching relationships are difficult to maintain sometimes. Perhaps she felt we weren’t a match. Still, she’s a very nice woman, and I wish her all the best.” He stands taller. “This wine is delicious.”

Alison smiled as her eyes closed briefly, absorbing Henry’s tactful transition. “What are your plans for the next few weeks, since you’re not traveling?”

“I want to spend some time sailing, to refresh myself, and to read. In my field there’s always new things to learn. And, what are your plans for those weeks?”

Before she could answer, Henry catches himself and interjects, “Look at the time. Perhaps we can continue this in the car. The theater’s a fair drive from here.”

Their conversation continued unabated for the trip. Alison shared her plans for the weeks ahead, and Henry, for his part gave her additional insights into his life on the road.

“It’s a pretty glamorous life in many ways, if you don’t consider the hours spent traveling, getting through customs, incessant delays and the like.

“What makes it great is the pursuit of solutions to problems of all types, many of which are regional or local, things which we’d never encounter here.”

“Like what?” she asked, turning her body in the seat to face him as much as possible.

Well, in Africa, it’s the water. Finding it, cleaning it, purifying it for drinking. In India and Bangladesh, its micro financing of tiny mom and pop enterprises. In Haiti, its rebuilding after the Hurricane. That entails almost everything in microcosm. People need food, dinking water, work and the ability to start tiny businesses.”

“Kind of makes what I am learning seem small by comparison.”

“What you are learning is important to all this. Sure, we haven’t introduced you to specifics like micro financing but what you’re learning all comes into play very soon. You’ll see.”

Alison sat quietly for a time, engrossed in what she was hearing, and growing in awareness of what she was feeling. Henry was like no one she had ever met. He was gentle to a fault, calm and self-assured. His life, while challenging and financially rewarding, was centered around giving. Her feelings were hard to explain, and she found that somewhat disconcerting.

The theater filled to overflowing. Yet, in spite of the large number of people, there was a harmony to the activity. Soon, they were seated in private box seats. On stage, music announced the arrival Mr. Tony Bennett. The audience stood to greet their revered entertainer. Alison turned to Henry who was looking at her in admiration of his own. Instinctively, she reached out her hand to squeeze his. His face softened as he accepted hers.

Once again in the car, as the gala disappeared in the distance, Alison turned to Henry and noted. “There were hundreds of people there tonight, many of them notable people. I would have thought someone would have recognized you.”

His eyes fixed on the road ahead, Henry took her hand once more. “I have lived in this area for over thirty years but all my work is done elsewhere. Truth is, I don’t even know my neighbors.”

Turning the car onto the highway, he continued. “I am better known by people in Bangkok and Bangalore than I am in Bangor, Maine or Chicago, Illinois, where I have some pretty heady clients. Six people know me in San Francisco, I think.”

“Then why are you here? And why are we together?”

“I’m here because I started my career here. But there weren’t enough clients here who understood what I do or why I am worth what they pay me. I return here because no one knows me here, and I love my little patch of land. I feel right at home here. My home is large, energy efficient, and self-sustaining. It has a 200° view of the lakes and woods galore, with walking trails and rest stops.

“We are together because one of my old clients asked me to help a friend of his who needed some personal guidance but could not afford to pay. After we’d been together a while, that guy told me that he had a friend, and, you get the pattern.”

“So how many people can you coach with all the other things you do?”

“Just one or two, sometimes as many as six.”

“And, at the moment?”

“Four, including you.”

And the original guy?”

“No. He’s running a redevelopment project in Bangalore and another in Thailand. We’re just friends now, and sometimes collaborators.”

“What can you tell me about the others?”

“Nothing. I don’t talk about my clients. You understand, don’t you?”

Alison gazed on Henry’s profile in the night light and nodded. “Yes I do, and I honor that.”

Slowly, Henry turned his face slightly in her direction. “Would you like to see my world?”