Page 97 of Tight Ends & Tiaras
The smile on his face is huge. “So... you got really high and then interviewed with Gabby?” When I nod, he laughs. “That’s priceless.”
And then I might’ve heckled Rider, Gabby’s now-boyfriend, who lived across the street at the time, but that afternoon is a little fuzzy, so I decide we’re all better off not remembering those details.
“I should add that I’ve never gotten high when I babysit. I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.”
The look of confidence he gives me is so reassuring. I tug on his hand. “When are you going to let me run you through some yoga moves?”
He chuckles. “Does this include you showing me the ‘downward dog?’”
“If you think you can handle it. Come on, stud. Show me what you got.” I drag him into my spare bedroom, where I focus on long stretches and agility because it’s his second workout of the day. We set up Lily next to us with a basket of toys.
Half an hour later, Ben’s groaning. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stand again after this.”
“The pigeon pose will loosen your hips.”
“I can think of one or two other things that could also help,” he teases.
I lean over and kiss him. “You’re not really in pain, right?”
“No, but damn, this was tougher than I thought.”
“I have several exercises that can help you be more resistant to injuries.”
That gets his attention. We talk at length about areas of his body which are tight that he might want to spend extra time stretching to increase flexibility. He gets out his phone and takes notes when I mention a few moves he’s never tried before.
There’s an extra spring to my step when I leave for the studio that afternoon. It feels good to be needed.
Ben really liked my idea that yoga could come with a side helping of meditations, thoughts people could use to help them focus on what they need for the day. He said he could see a lot of applications for athletes and suggested turning it into an app, which made me laugh. Not sure how I would combine all of that, but I liked the idea.
When I step into Good Vibes, it makes my day even better. All the girls at the front desk wave at me. Naomi, the owner, calls out my name from her corner office. When I reach her, she gives me a huge hug.
“Look at you!” She waves her hand in front of me, and all of her jangly bracelets clink together. “You have such a good aura, girl. Whatever you’re doing is working for you.”
Maybe she should say whoever I’m doing. Sometimes I forget that horrible night at Cal’s. Ben has that effect on me.
She lowers her voice. “For a woman who got brained by a bottle, you look fabulous.”
I close the door to her office and pull out my ponytail. “Seven stitches. Look.” I show her the section of my head that eventually sprouted hair around the scar.
She grabs my arm in sympathy. “My brothers used to say it ain’t a party until someone gets stitches.”
“I’m fine now.” I tie my hair back. “But I’ve missed this place. Missed hanging out with you.”
Naomi has such a great energy about her. It’s one of the reasons I hope I can do more with yoga. She brings such light and peace to so many. People walk in here stressed out and worried, but after one of her classes, they’re smiling and centered, ready to take on life again. It’s a gift. One I hope to craft myself.
She motions me to sit down. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Well, I drew up that proposal for our after-school program. Some of these schools don’t have any mats and their gyms are falling apart. The most expensive component, aside from paying the instructors, will be the insurance. I’m also wondering if we should do snacks too. I just read a report that said thirteen million children live in ‘food-insecure’ households. And why in the world would kids want to do yoga if their little tummies are growling?”
“Those are great ideas. Did you include that in your prospectus?”
I nod. “My potential investor said I should include everything I could think of.”
Glancing down, Naomi pauses and then looks up at me speculatively. “Are you ever going to tell me who Mr. Big Bucks is?”
For the first time, I feel foolish not being upfront about my family and who I am. Like I’m not brave enough to be myself.
