11. Willow
ELEVEN
Willow
A day started with yoga, I never do. Now I'm wondering why . This morning’s class is called Yin Stretch Yoga where we hold a position for a very long time, five-to-ten pained-yet-delicious minutes. Muscles I didn't know I had scream then sigh at me. I feel my body waking up. Mind, soothed. I didn't sleep very well last night, so this is exactly what I need.
We were a little childish to go outside, but I just couldn't help myself. The definition of childish, I suppose. I needed to know, that’s why I went with the impulse, but truly it was none of my business. Afterward, I kept waking up wondering if I had overstepped, irrevocably.
Have to make things right.
After class I dodge the others and ask Rachel, “Do you have a minute? "
We leave the exercise room for the main room and she motions to a charming sitting areas with three antique chairs. I’m hoping it stays just the two of us, because this is embarrassing. Maybe it’s easier to ask permission than say sorry? Sure feels like that right now.
"Everything okay?”
I wring my hands, “No,” because I loathe confrontation when I respect someone and feel I’ve behaved badly.
Quickly Rachel says, "I am so sorry about the disruption last night."
I stare, then instantly realize she's worried about how this looks for her retreat. On a nervous laugh I reassure her, “Oh no, that's not what I wanted to talk about. It kind of is, but I'm coming at it from a different angle.” Running a hand through my long hair, I think about how I want to put this, eyes cast down as I begin, "I'm the one who wants to say sorry.” Looking up I dive in, forcing myself to speak slowly. “We shouldn't have come out onto the porch while you were having…family troubles. That was extraordinarily rude, and I’m not normally like that. I’m very polite. My parents taught me manners. So I slept horribly, thinking about how we barged out there onto the porch. It was none of our business, and I'm sorry.” Because I mean it, I repeat, with more emotion, “I am really sorry."
Rachels shoulders relax, and she reaches over to briefly touch my knee in a motherly way. "That's alright, Willow. Honestly, with so much going on,” She straightens up, “I hadn't thought twice about it. I also had a hard time sleeping last night, so I understand. But don’t worry another second. It had nothing to do with you.“
Glancing toward the exercise room I spy through the open door that people are still chatting with each other. We are alone but I keep my voice down just the same as I ask, “Did you want to talk about it?"
Her concerned gaze travels back from the direction I was looking in, and locks with mine. "I'm worried about my son. That woman, I wonder…" She shakes her head, and stops. “This isn’t appropriate."
"Because I’m one of your customers?"
"Because you're a guest in our home. And you came to relax."
"My friends always say I'm very easy to talk to. I'm usually the one people tell their deepest darkest to. Even strangers!”
She exhales. "Well I'm just relieved you aren't upset. I couldn’t help but notice that Dax didn't come down for yoga and I was worried that…"
I shake my head, not wanting to tell her that Dax had quite a bit to drink last night after we got back to the bedroom. I’m no snitch, so I offer, “They said they weren't a morning person."In a way it's the truth. I woke Dax up just in case my suspicions that they wanted to sleep in were incorrect, and got a grunt and an impatient rollover as response. I add, “Maybe tomorrow. But that had nothing to do with what happened last night." A total assumption on my part. However, our brief time together in the arts and crafts room led me to believe that Dax wasn't bothered in the slightest. Painting was on their mind, and only that. “Can I make a suggestion?"
Rachel nods once, curious. “Of course."
The front door opens and in walks Shelby, with a yoga mat. She looks at us and momentarily pauses before walking up, determined gaze boldly on Rachel. "Am I late?"
Our beautiful, dignified host is flabbergasted.
We sit in silence for what seems like hours until I do something a little outrageous. I take over. ”We just finished, but why don't you grab some coffee and join us.”
Pleased, Shelby leaves for the kitchen and when she is out of earshot, I whisper almost inaudibly, “Best to get on his good side."
Rachel's mouth opens slightly, speechless, until she finally nods, “Yes, for Jonny.”
“Jonny?”
“Our grandson.”
Oh that’s right. In all of the chaos, I forgot about when Ben asked where he was. Did I think it was their dog? Of course they have a child. A son. I’ve always wanted a boy…and a girl. Greedy? Maybe. But oof. My heart. Do I even have one anymore? Suddenly it feels li ke an icy rock slammed into its place. What is wrong with me?
Shelby is returning fast so I straighten my back and wait for her to take the third and final armchair. The one I hoped would stay empty. I need to be supportive. But of who? She’s lovely in pink yoga pants and matching top, blonde hair to her shoulders in curls that make a straight-haired woman like myself say a truthful, “I’ve always wanted curls like yours.”
Shelby smiles and touches them with her right hand, "They were behaving for once today,” the left placing her coffee cup on the round table between us.
The smell of shampoo wafts to my nose. Instantly I’m wondering if they showered together. That’s good, maybe they made up and everything is okay. I can go on with my life and my retreat and act as if nothing rocked my core last night when I saw him.
Rachel says, “We were just talking about sleep. How did you sleep last night?”
Shelby’s smile pervades. “Good to be in my bed again.”
Ouch. What the fuck, Willow? Stop it! Cut this off now . Women are supposed to help each other. Ben is off limits to me from now on. I came here to find my smile again and this ain’t cuttin’ it.
Rachel says, "Good," but her eyes are saying something else. She looks surprised and covers it with a smile. “A good night’s sleep is so important.”
"Sorry I missed yoga. I wasn't sure when we started. "
“I’m sorry. I should have told you…” Looking confused, she stops the sentence and changes the subject. “Did you drive here?"
Shelby laughs to Rachel, "I wouldn't walk that long a distance!"
I ask, “So what do you do, Shelby?"
"I'm a mother."
I nod, “And that's enough."
She says pointedly to Rachel, “That's what I told Ben,” and then turns her attention to me as if I understand her like nobody else can. "Raising a child is hard. Ben spends so much time working on the farm, someone has to clean and cook and drive Jonny to school. To and from school."
Rachel clears her throat.
I'm waiting for Shelby to ask me what I do, to continue the conversation, but instead there is the worst silence I have ever experienced in my life. Shelby lifts her coffee cup and takes a sip, perfectly content. Our hostess shifts her weight, and locks eyes with me. She looks lost and the ache I felt for myself switches over to her. I struggle and think of something to ask. “What made you come up with the name Jonny? Is it short for Jonathan? Or John?
Shelby shakes her head, curls bouncing lightly. “No, just Jonny. Ben said it sounded like a friend. He wanted something that, when our son grew up, the name would mean something. He said everybody likes a guy named Jonny. It's easy-going.”
I nod, "I agree with that. "
On a shrug Shelby says, "I think it's kind of boring.I wanted something more intimidating like his cousins have.” She fills me in, since I don’t know who she’s referring to. “Like Max and Gabriel. Or something that rolls off the tongue like Caden.”
Rachel is biting her lip, literally, and I'm wondering if she's doing it figuratively as well. "Did you want to join us in the arts and crafts room today?"
The door swings open and in walks Ben. He spots us three, does a quick scan of the main room and finds us alone. "Shelby! Outside. Now."
"I am having coffee with my mother-in-law and my new friend."
Ben and his mother share a look before he slams one at me. "Willow, please excuse what you're about to see."
Shelby's eyes go wide as he storms over, lifts her out of the chair, ignoring her screams as he carries her to the front door. "I don't know what you’ve been saying to them, but your gaslighting days are over.”
Everyone from the meditation room hurries to where we are, eyes on the slamming door. Dax, from the top of the stairs, asks, “Anybody have aspirin?”
Rachel rises up. “I have an announcement. Your time here is free.”
Sylvia closes her eyes, then starts to clap.
Maggie says, “Oh, that’s not necessary.”
Steven exhales, “Very cool.”
The Brooklyn girls join in the clapping .
Marco, in his thick Italian accent, exclaims, “Bene!”
Me?
I feel terrible for Rachel.
My icy rock?
It just melted for her.
Her son is a brute!
My crush has vanished.