Page 6 of Bonus Daddy
“You’re finally here.” She turned my hand over and gently stroked the lines of my open palm.
“Excellent love line. Just as I expected.” Then, before I could extract myself, she patted my cheek and said, “He’s been waiting for you. Keep the faith, Cricket.”
I’d almost fainted on the spot. My dad had always called me Cricket, but I hadn’t heard the nickname since he passed away. Andwhile I’d met this woman before, we certainly weren’t close enough for her to know that. Lo had told me she was some kind of psychic, but I had always assumed it was a joke.
After that run-in, I’d needed a long walk to calm myself down. I filled my stainless-steel mug with tea and headed to the studio. I’d get my own workout in, plan today’s class, and then do a deep clean of the space.
The studio was small but gorgeous, with large windows along the street side. It had been a shoe store many lives ago, and Lana had kept the original woodwork, though she’d painted the walls in calming blue and green tones. Though it was not what one would expect to see in a place like this, the massive chandelier that hung from the ceiling added to the charm, and the large white cabinets along the back wall that housed mats, straps, and blocks meant it always looked tidy.
I lit the candles on the altar, then opened the windows and the door to let in the fresh spring air. Then I put on my favorite playlist.
My body itched to move, eager to find a natural flow. I’d always been a mover. My mom used to joke that I was “a bad sitter.” She wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t until I found yoga that I could achieve stillness with any sort of success.
The techniques and meditation involved allowed me to still my brain and move my body. It was a foreign concept, but one that I quickly grew addicted to.
I stripped off my T-shirt and tossed it onto the counter. Then, in a sports bra and yoga pants, I rolled my shoulders. Quickly, heat built within me. Today was a day where I needed to sweat.
As I pushed myself through a long series of sun salutations, my heart rate accelerated and a euphoric feeling took root in my bones.
I continued, relishing my strength and flexibility.
There was no better cure for the postpartum body blues than yoga.
As women, our bodies evolved and created life.
The bullshit societal notion that we should be the same size wewere as children was absurd. And yet, once in a while, a niggle of shame tugged at me.
I’d get self-conscious, remembering that my belly was no longer completely flat. That I had stretch marks and cellulite that no amount of yoga would destroy.
As I pushed myself from a three-legged dog into a standing split, I focused on breathing in confidence and breathing out negativity.
Despite my best efforts, my ex’s voice would sometimes creep in, taunting me. Tormenting me like he had when he’d buy cocktail dresses a size too small for events, insisting it would “motivate me.” Judging me the way he judged Kit when she once asked for a second popsicle after dinner.
Mentally blocking the memories of his denigration, I rolled into a headstand. I found inversions helped quiet the negative thoughts. From there, I rolled into upward-facing dog to get my back loose.
When my body told me I’d done enough, I reached for my water. Only then did I realize that I’d left it at the check-in desk by the windows.
So I stood and padded through the sun-drenched studio, rolling my shoulders as I went. As I got closer, a figure outside the window caught my eye, and my heart stuttered.
The sun was a bit blinding, so, shielding my eyes, I examined the person. It was definitely a man. He was tall and lean, but muscled, and he was staring through the window.
“Brian?” I gasped.
Eyes widening, he took a step back and dropped his attention to his feet.
His dress pants were gray, and the sleeves of his Oxford were rolled up, exposing his forearms. He hadn’t changed since our meeting, but he’d ditched the coat and tie.
My heart lodged itself in my throat as I took a step closer. What was he doing here?
I waved awkwardly through the open window, anxiety coursing through me, undoing all the work I’d just accomplished.
Movement near his feet pulled my attention down to the oversized animal wearing a harness and a leash.
“Is that… a cat?”
He looked down at the feline, who flopped onto the sidewalk and stretched out like it was dying of boredom.
“Yeah.” He let out a beleaguered sigh. “It’s a damn cat. I walk him every day.”
