Page 6 of A Line in the Sand

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Henry unspooled his yoga mat and flapped it onto the tile floor with athwack. “I told you already—yoga.”

“Good morning, everyone. Are we ready to get started?” The instructor, a woman who looked much closer to Max’s age than Henry’s, stood at the front of the room in leggings covered in a pink cupcake print. The Dalmatian romped in circles around her as she glanced around the class. Her gaze settled on Max and she paused. “Oh good, we have a guest.”

Max shook his head. “No, I’m just here visiting my—”

“The more the merrier. Extra mats are over there.” She pointed to a stack of yoga mats beside what looked like an official parking area for ambulatory devices. “Let’s begin with pretzel pose.”

Pretzel pose? Was that Sanskrit? Max wholeheartedly doubted it.

“Uncle Henry, I…”

“You heard her.” Henry shrugged. “If you’re staying, go get a mat. A little yoga would probably do you some good.”

He couldnotbe serious.

Oh, but he was. Uncle Henry sat down and proceeded to close his eyes and take deep breaths while Max stood there trying to process what was happening.

“Fine,” he finally said, planting his hands on his knees and bending over to whisper-scream at his uncle. “But I’ll be back tonight right after the aquarium closes, and we’re going to talk.”

Uncle Henry popped one eye open. “Sorry, no can do. Tonight is trivia night here at the senior center.”

“Seriously?” Max arched a brow. “And I suppose you’re busy tomorrow, too. What’s on Tuesday’s agenda? Pilates? Book club?”

“Don’t be silly. Tomorrow night is bingo. You should know that.” Henry frowned at him in a very non-Zen, non-yoga-ish sort of way.

Max sighed. He knew all about bingo night. Anyone who’d ever set foot on Turtle Beach did. It had simply slipped his mind for a second, what with the near-drowning and his uncle’s total transformation into a different person.

“Hi, there. I’m Violet.” The yoga instructor and her Dalmatian were suddenly standing right beside Max. Now that he got a look at the dog up close, Max realized her collar had tiny cupcakes printed all over it, just like Violet’s leggings. “It looks like you’re staying, so here.”

She shoved a yoga mat at him, and Max had no choice but to take it.

“Okay, then,” he muttered as he kicked off his shoes.

If this was the only way he was going to get some actual face time with his uncle, then so be it. Max situated the mat beside Henry’s and plopped down into a pretzel shape.

“You lied,” Max said under his breath, just loud enough for his uncle to hear him.

“About what?”

“Okay, everyone. Let’s transition into rearview mirror pose,” Violet called from the head of the class.

Rearview mirror?What kind of nutty yoga class was this?

The seniors all twisted to look over their right shoulder, so Max did the same. He took advantage of the posture to glare at his uncle.

“Abouteverything,” Max hissed. “There’s no Starbucks, and there’s no Krispy Kreme.”

“Sure there are…just over the bridge in Wilmington.” Henry cleared his throat and swiveled his gaze to peer over the opposite shoulder.

Max did the same. Maybe yoga wasn’t a half bad idea. He was beginning to feel like his head might explode. “Wilmington is almost an hour away, Uncle Henry. You told me the island had changed. You made it sound like—”

“Like what?” Henry said, at last meeting Max’s gaze head-on. “Like someplace important enough for you to visit?”

Ouch.

Max swallowed. He knew better than to issue a denial when his behavior over the past twelve years spoke for itself.

Then Violet’s teacher voice rang out, mercifully breaking the tense silence that had just fallen between Max and his uncle. “Looking good, everyone. Let’s move into secretly-checking-your-phone pose.”