Page 18 of Gravity of Love
“I see a few new faces today. Welcome, we’re so happy that you are here. This is an advanced vinyasa class set to hip-hopand R&B music. My one rule is, listen to your bodies. If you need to rest, rest.” Tiana’s eyes landed specifically on Frankie and several other students who were probably newbies as well, with an intentional kindness. “Today’s theme is letting go—of old habits, old identities, and old relationships. You can leave whatever burdens you brought with you on your mat.”
It looks like I came on the right day.
Tiana gave a little bow and started the warmup.
The next sixty minutes were a blur of movement, sweat, and the collective hum of thirty people breathing as one to the soundtrack of Heavy D, LL Cool J, Blaque, Nivea, Tupac, Bel Biv Devoe, and more. Frankie’s body was not the biggest fan after not working out for a month, but around the halfway mark, she lost herself in the measured burn of the poses, the catch and release of muscle and memory. Tiana moved through the rows, gently realigning a wrist here, a tilted pelvis there.
By the end, Frankie was both jelly and electricity, lulled by the final moments of savasana as the last notes of the Karyn White hit “Superwoman” faded out over the faint sound of a bicycle bell clanging somewhere outside. She rolled up to a seated position on her mat, feeling the kind of exhaustion that was almost identical to relief.
Her red-rimmed-eyed mat neighbor cried pretty much the entire class. Not audibly, but a steady stream of tears fell down her face. Frankie witnessed dozens of drops thud onto her mat with a tiny splash. Before she could check in with her or even just introduce herself, the woman jumped up, grabbed her mat, and rushed to the back, where signs pointed to bathrooms and the changing room. Frankie knew it was none of her business, but something made her feel connected to her hat-clad mat-neighbor, and she wanted to make sure she was okay.
She took her time spraying and wiping down her mat at a snail’s pace while people around her hurried to get on with theirday. Once she’d cleaned both sides ten times, which was overkill, she rolled it up and went to her cubby, still moving at turtle speed. She pulled out her bag and shoes, putting each on her foot and then rolling her ankles to stall, when she felt a vibration in the front pocket.
Please be Zee, she thought as she grabbed her phone, only to feel the all-too-familiar stomach drop of disappointment.
It was another text from Tristan.
Tristan:Please call me. You’ve made your point. I love you. I know you love me. We can fix this. Whatever I did, I’m sorry.
Frankie deleted the text and shoved the phone back in her bag. When she lifted her head, she saw everyone had cleared out, and Tiana was standing in front of her looking like a yoga angel, her long, light-brown, curly hair now wrapped up in a silk scarf. “It’s Frankie, right? We met at the book club.”
“Oh, yeah, we did.”
Frankie didn’t thinkanyonewould remember her being there that night. She’d only been in town a day or two, and there was a lot of excitement during those three hours. Taylor passed out cold and had to be rushed to the emergency room for what ended up being a bad virus. And Viv, who owned the coffee shop and wasverypregnant, thought she was going into labor, but it ended up being Braxton Hicks. Oh, and a romance author named Emma, who had moved to town a few years ago, announced her next series, which the women seemed very excited about. She’d only been there because she knew some of the locals from spending summers in Hope Falls, and she ran into Nikki Maguire, who was a local, and invited her.
“It was a great class! Loved the music.” Frankie genuinely meant it, she had enjoyed the class.
“You crushed it!” Tiana enthused. “I’m guessing you do a lot of yoga in…”
“New York, I’m from New York. And, thanks, yeah, I do.”
“So, are you here visiting?” Tiana followed up.
“Not to sound like a Facebook status, but it’s complicated.”
The corners of Tiana’s mouth curled upward, her cheeks dimpling as her eyes crinkled at the edges, transforming her face from a serene yoga instructor to a conspirator sharing a delicious secret. “Did the Hope Falls Effect get you?”
Frankie had heard about the Hope Falls Effect. In fact, Yaya had several different pieces of HFE merch—a pink tumbler, a t-shirt, and a throw blanket. They were all branded with the Hope Falls Effect. It wasn’t something that had been around when she spent her summers there as a kid. Or maybe it had, and she was just too young to notice. She had no idea who started it, or why, but as far as a marketing tactic for tourism, it seemed to be working. According to Yaya, even the locals appeared to be buying into it.
HOPE FALLS EFFECT™
Hope Falls:
noun (place)
1. a small, picturesque town tucked in the Sierra Nevada with an idyllic landscape backdrop of lush, deep green pine trees and dotted with colorful aspens. The heart of the town, Main Street, is a five-block stretch of small storefront businesses, lined on each side with wooden sidewalks filled with a cast of colorful characters sure to enrich your life.
Effect:
verb (action)
1. someone who never thought they would ever fall in love or fall in love again, and suddenly they meet their soul mate
2. a person who thought that their career was over suddenly gets a new opportunity that changes their life forever
3. someone who is running from something bad in their past or has issues with their family, they move here and the situation resolves itself
4.those who are lonely find support from the community
