Free A Toast to Starry Nights by Mandi Rei Serra Page B

papers from the
clipboard and looked up at me. “It'll be a few minutes. He's finishing up with
his current client.”
    “Okay.” I beat a retreat to my seat and
noticed the ambient music wafting through the air. Vivaldi. Exquisite. Maybe
this won't be so terrible... ah, the cell phone. I fished it out of my purse
and put it on silent mode. Interruptions wouldn't be appreciated, I'm sure. A
glance to the stacks of magazines displayed National Geographic, Popular
Science and Modern Psychology. Nah. Music would suffice for now. My head leaned
back against the wall and I shut out the world with closed eyes to enjoy the
music. It was during “Autumn”, when I heard that voice talking in the distance.
Oh God no. Again, impeccable timing for the win.
    “Kaylis?”
    I opened my eyes to see my maternal unit
standing next to a portly fellow garbed in a hunter-green dress shirt with
black slacks and loafers. Willow wore her usual broomstick skirt and tunic top;
this time in tropical colors of teal, aquamarine and yellow. Her hippie
ensemble completed by the old Birkenstocks upon her feet. “Hiya Willow. Guess
what you won't be doing?” I smiled wide, cheered by the thought of not passing
out phasers as wedding favors. Here, proof that I am fulfilling the obligations
for my side of The Agreement.
    “Ah, no wedding planning for me I
suppose. Let's get a late lunch after your appointment to discuss my surrender,
okay honey? Oh! Jack! This is my daughter, Kaylis Prudence.”
    I mentally grimaced at her use of my
middle name during an introduction but smiled as my mother continued.
    ”Kaylis, this is Dr. Jack Neilsinhaur.”
    Ah, finally. The man behind my mother's
claims towards Tudor Royalty.
    Neilsinhaur shook my hand in a firm
grip. A serene feeling emanated from him like the sensation of sunshine
touching bared skin on a spring day. It was like a warm magnetic field started
in his chocolate-brown eyes and spread to those closest around him. The
recessed lighting glinted red upon his closely cropped black hair.
    “Kaylis, it's a pleasure.”
    “Dr. Neilsinhaur. Willow has told me so
much about you.”
    His eyebrows quirked. “Really? I'm sure
you are equally interesting.”
    Willow stepped towards me and pecked a
kiss on my cheek. “It's not so bad, Kaylis,” she whispered into my ear.
“Remember, the Klingon God of War fears not a challenge. Channel your inner
Klingon, sweetie. You'll thank me for this... wait and see.”
    Meh.
    Dr. Neilsinhaur and Willow bid their
goodbyes to each other before he whisked me off down the same hallway that
echoed my mother's voice minutes earlier.
    He led me into a room bereft of the
psychoanalysis couch that I envisioned on my way over to Chico. Two fluffy
armchairs sat near each other, across from a sofa upholstered in tan, green and
navy stripes. A desk and computer chair in one corner, faced outward towards
the center of the room, and juxtaposed from that, an aquarium of middling size.
He beckoned toward a chair for me to sit in, while he took position in the
computer chair. Neilsinhaur leaned forward and spoke.
    “I'm going to explain what I do, then
we'll start diving into why you find yourself here.
    “The premise of my practice is that
everyone possesses a soul that gets recycled. The body may die and decay, but
the essence of our being is an electrical impulse that goes into what is called
the Collective Unconsciousness. That's sort of a super-highway that links
everyone's mind on a deep, primal level. Everyone is connected, some closer
than others. People you know in this life were most likely souls you knew in a
past life; that's why some people leave more lasting impressions than others.
Sometimes the soul houses scars from a past life. Those traumas from a past
life can carry over to a current life, impacting the subject. Patterns can
reemerge and cause havoc for one, especially if they aren't aware of said
pattern. The goal here is to identify the trauma or event that left