Dr. Belliveau's Dream Job - Chapter 13
Stacey fights off the idea that her new business endeavor might get her into trouble.
Stacey had only one week to devise another life-altering bear spirit session for her client, Wallace. She hated the fact that Benny had come up with the clever idea of using the life lessons found in the Berenstain Books as fodder for spirit life coaching.
But it was kind of clever, she had to admit. I could have come up with those morals and manners lessons myself, though, Stacey mused aloud as she checked her email for any more e-transfers from Wallace.
She yawned, tired from all the tossing and turning she’d done in the night. Benny was having misgivings about this whole life coaching thing. Mostly because she was a sham. Or was she? She spent her waking hours convincing herself that she wasn’t.
I’m just having imposter syndrome, she told herself. There’s no credential for life coaching. I couldn’t go to university and come out with a master’s in life coaching, she reasoned.
But she knew what Benny would say to all that. He’d probably have a more nuanced approach to life coaching, leaning heavily on the skills he already had, not on fantasy skills created by a woman who just wanted the money.
That realization made her stop and think. Why AM I doing this? she thought. In the excitement of getting a first client, she’d forgotten how they’d come to this life decision.
This is Benny’s fault! she thought to herself. Benny got on the dark web because he’s a moron who’d rather be a secretary than a doctor. After all that schooling! And the debt! And the years he had to study!
Stacey shook her head, disgusted with Benny. She closed her laptop and made a coffee. Chiaro - double espresso. No milk. No sugar. She sat at the kitchen table and made room for her coffee, pushing aside the stack of Berenstain Bears books Benny had shoved into her arms before she’d left his place the night before.
The Berenstain Bears Go to School
Stacey moved that book to the NO pile. There was nothing in this book that she could turn into a life lesson for a grown man.
The Berenstain Bears and the Messy Room
No to this book. She put it in the pile.
The Berenstain Bears Trouble with Money
Stacey paused on this one and considered the options. Money problems? Clearly, the man didn’t have money problems if he was willing to fork out twenty thousand dollars for spirit guide therapy.
She slid the book into the MAYBE pile in the center of the kitchen table.
The Berenstain Bears and Too Much Pressure
This might be good, Stacey thought, and moved it into the YES pile. There wasn’t a person on earth who didn’t experience pressures of some kind. She could weave this into Wallace’s “bear spirit” sessions.
The Berenstain Bears and the Trouble with Friends
Yup, definitely this one, Stacey said aloud. The invisible bear spirit could come up with all kinds of coaching around conflict, forgiveness, and boundaries.
The Berenstain Bears and the Blame Game
And this one too, Stacey thought. And then Stacey was hit with a great idea. What if I can convince Wallace to buy sessions for his employees?
Stacey would talk to Benny about it, even though she knew he wouldn’t like the idea. But they were in BUSINESS, and BUSINESS people had to market themselves.
She thought about the possibilities as she sipped her coffee. If should could convince Wallace that the “spirit bear” sees a future where his employees need more help than he does and, in turn, could be trained into liking him more, she could make a fortune.
And she could start paying Benny. He’d also have more secretarial work to do, which, clearly, he craved. Stacey rolled her eyes and laughed at the same time.
Three hours later
HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? Benny shouted. Stacey narrowed her eyes, calculating a response that would convince him.
We could go to jail for something like this, Benny continued. His hand trembled as he lifted his cup of coffee to his mouth.
Is that your remote control? Stacey asked just as the remote control bumped Benny’s nose. He put his cup down and gave her a blank stare.
Stacey reached down and plucked it from his coffee. Are you alright? She asked. Why is your remote control in your coffee?
That’s a SPOON, Benny shouted. He seemed to have one tone on this day. Loud. Stacey shook her head. It’s not a spoon. She wiped the wet remote control on the hem of her shirt and placed it on the coffee table.
You should see a doctor, Stacey suggested. My grandfather had dementia. He always did shit like this.
Benny thought the idea was absurd. I’ve been worried lately, he said defensively. People do strange things when they’re under stress.
Stacey’s eyebrows arched high into her forehead. Yeah, not THIS weird.
Well, it’s certainly NOT dementia!
Dear readers: It’s dementia.
Stacey wasn’t in the mood to argue about her “secretary’s” health condition. Instead, she rinsed out his coffee mug, refilled it, and returned it to the coffee table.
Listen, this is my business, and I need more than one client! Nobody else has responded to the ads. It’s not like we’ll have a gun to Wallace’s head or anything. He can decide what he wants to do and where he wants to spend his money.
Benny remained silent, his gaze fixated on something just outside the living room window. Stacey waved her hand in front of his face. HELLO? Is anybody home?
But Benny didn’t snap out of his reverie the way Stacey expected he would. She shook his shoulder lightly. Finally, he turned his head to her, but he seemed out of focus, as if he were staring through her, not at her.
Okay, we’ve been through a lot. YOU’VE been through a lot, she said. But you’re working for ME now, remember? There’s nothing to worry about anymore. Whatever happens is on my shoulders.
It was only after Benny stood that Stacey realized he’d been losing weight. His pants, once crisply starched, ironed, and perfectly fitting, now hung loosely around his waist. Sharp salt-and-pepper whiskers covered his chin. She wasn’t used to seeing him this way, and it struck a nerve.
Are you getting sick? She asked. The flu’s going around.
Up until this moment, Stacey had regarded Benny as someone with “status”. Like it or not, she realized it had been his strength of character that allowed her the space to indulge her own dreams. To her, he’d been like a dumb wall that she could continuously rally her self-absorbed thoughts against.
Something was wrong with him, that was for sure. Stacey wasn’t concerned about the diagnosis. It was the weakening of his veneer that scared the shit out of her.
Why don’t you go back to bed and get some sleep, Stacey suggested nervously. He nodded and slipped his black patent shoes from his feet, exposing an inch of skin around his ankle.
Gross, Stacey thought. This man in front of her reminded her of her grandfather and how weak he’d gotten before dying of lung cancer. Stacey was repulsed and afraid.
I’ll talk to you later, she said as she slipped out the door. At this point, she knew she was in too deep. If she came clean and told Wallace that his “coaching” was coming from Berenstain books, he’d probably sue her. She couldn’t even give him his money back. What she’d received so far had paid off a little credit card debt. The rest went to Benny as his first payment.
I’m not doing anything illegal, Stacey thought. The man is getting what he signed up for. He paid twenty grand for spirit animal coaching, and that’s exactly what he’s getting.
All of this, of course, was true, but Stacey couldn’t brush off the feeling that somehow, at the end of the day, she was fucked.
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