Chapter Thirteen
Thirteen
Pam
I love what my body is capable of doing.
I squatted in front of my affirmation-lined mirror—well, as far as my knees would allow me to squat—ensuring my butt wasn’t visible through my tight black athletic leggings.
Tegan had assured me they were fine, and the tag had claimed “squat-proof,” but I wasn’t willing to risk it when I would be bending over right in front of a stranger.
Should I wear underwear?
I mean, I did with normal leggings. It had taken years for me to overcome the damage of the anti-panty-line craze of the ’80s and ’90s, but now you’d have to pry my full-coverage cotton briefs from my cold, dead hands.
And besides, if my crotch or butt got sweaty or I had a little leak, it would be an additional layer of absorbency.
Fully convinced, I peeled the leggings off and strutted over to my dresser. The second my fingers made contact with a comfy pair of granny panties, I heard my phone vibrate with a text message.
A smile stretched over my face because I was pretty certain I knew who it was from. Still clutching my panties, I retrieved my phone from the bathroom counter, and sure enough, it was a text from Alistair.
Alistair: Hey pretty lady, getting ready for yoga?
Pam: Yep, getting dressed now.
Alistair: Getting dressed? I wish I was there to see that.
I wished he was, too. I missed him more each day. Every phone call, dinner date, late-night conversation, and good-morning text message made being apart that much harder. Other than the distance, things with Alistair were perfect.
A perfect gentleman, a perfect kisser—not to mention his skills in the bedroom.
When would we get to do that again?
Sure, we were dating, but it had its limits.
But did it have to?
I pulled on my underwear and typed out a response.
Pam: I can send you a picture if you want.
Alistair: Pamela Rollins. Are you going to send me nudes?
I slapped my hand over my eyes and snorted. I wasn’t quite ready to send him nude pictures, but my underwear and yoga tank were the equivalent of a bathing suit.
That I could do.
Pam: Would a picture of me in my underwear suffice?
Alistair: Sweetheart, I’m happy with whatever you give me. It could be a picture of your smiling face and I’d still be thrilled.
I couldn’t believe this was my life. How did I get lucky enough to have a minotaur plucked from the pages of a romance novel and tossed into my life? These things didn’t happen to me, but this was my life and it was about time I started living it.
I walked in front of the mirror, adjusted my bun, and fluffed my bangs with my fingers.
How did you pose for these types of pictures?
I put my hand on my waist and cocked my hip, the roll of my love handles peeking out from underneath my tank. Giving the mirror the most sensual look I could, I snapped the picture.
Damn, I look good.
That was one thing that had come with age—confidence in my body. Every wrinkle, stretch mark, and scar told a story. My body wasn’t the same as when I was twenty, or even forty, but I loved it all the same.
I sent it to Alistair, and his response was almost immediate.
Alistair: Holy Goddess, woman. I wish those thighs were hugging my face.
Shit.
I clenched my legs together, remembering how good he’d made me feel. Not just good but cherished, because my pleasure was important to him.
Pam: I wish they were, too.
Alistair: The things I’d do to you…
A few suggestive text messages and I could already feel myself getting wet. In fifteen minutes, I’d be taking my first yoga class.
Instructed by his daughter.
There was no way I could do this right now.
Pam: As much as I’m enjoying this, I have a yoga class in 15 minutes, and your daughter is the instructor.
Alistair: You’re right, you’re right. But can we continue this conversation another time??
Pam: I’d like that very much. I’ll text you after class!
—
Ten minutes later, I rushed out of my house and hopped in my car.
Normally, I walked to the businesses along Main Street, but with the little distraction I’d experienced before I left, there wasn’t enough time for that.
I didn’t want to be late for my first class, especially when Alistair’s daughter was the instructor.
Creeping in after things had already started would be embarrassing, and what if Chai locked the door once class started?
With just a few minutes to spare, I pulled into the parking lot of Leviathan Fitness. I grabbed my yoga mat and water bottle from the passenger seat and booked it to the gym doors.
“Hey there, Mrs. Rollins,” Fallon said from behind the front desk. “Lookin’ good!” He clicked his beak and gave me a wink with one of his beady bird eyes.
“Thank you, Fallon. I’m running a little late for the beginner yoga class. Can you show me to the studio?”
“Absolutely. Follow me.”
He stepped out from behind the desk and led me down a hallway lined with doors. One of them was slightly ajar, and I could hear Atlas’s gruff voice coming from inside. I made a mental note to say hello to him once my class was finished.
“I gotta get back to the desk, but just follow the hallway straight back,” Fallon chirped, his tail swishing behind him as he strutted off.
At the end of the hallway, Chai leaned against the doorframe, waiting to greet the attendees.
“Hey, Mrs. Rollins,” Chai said when she caught sight of me.
“Please, call me Pam.”
Chai gave me a kind smile that reminded me of her father. “How are you feeling today, Pam?”
I gripped my yoga mat tight, feeling unnerved by her presence and the fact that I was doing something new. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Everyone’s nervous before their first class, but I promise you’ll feel great once everything is said and done. Do you have any injuries I should know about?”
I thought for a second, going over the aches and pains I’d been experiencing lately. “I have some arthritis in my knees, and I’ve been known to tweak my back occasionally. My flexibility isn’t great, but I’m hoping yoga will improve that.”
She nodded, her considerably smaller horns bobbing up and down.
“All right. I’ll keep an eye on you and suggest modifications as needed.
” Chai held up a round piece of plastic.
“This is a consent token. The green side is labeled with ‘Yes’ to let me know you’re okay with me making hands-on form adjustments, and the red side is labeled with ‘No’ to let me know you’d prefer verbal adjustments.
Just go with whatever you’re comfortable with, okay? ”
Well, I loved that.
Even though I was comfortable with hands-on adjustments, it was nice to know consent was important, especially without having to ask.
“Okay,” I said, and took the token from her.
“You can head inside and set your mat up wherever you want. Once you’ve done that, grab two blocks and a yoga strap from the rack. You can sit and relax or meditate until the class begins.”
I inhaled deeply and nodded. “All right.”
“It’s going to be great.”
Chai stepped out of the doorway, and I slipped inside the studio.
Calming music filled the space, with several humans and monsters sitting crossed-legged on their mats with their eyes closed, waiting for the class to begin.
Since Briar Glenn was such a small town, I’d expected to see some familiar faces, but I didn’t recognize a soul.
It was comforting in a way. If I embarrassed myself, at least it would be in front of strangers.
Strangers and my boyfriend’s daughter. No pressure, Pam.
I hung up my coat and tucked my shoes into one of the cubbies that lined the back wall.
After spreading out my mat in a part of the room that gave me plenty of space to switch positions, I grabbed my blocks and strap.
With my token “Yes” side up—and with some difficulty—I sat cross-legged in the center of my mat.
Closing my eyes, I focused on the music. The droning sound of the singing bowl started in my head, then drifted down my body, then out through my fingertips and toes. Soft chimes grounded me in the present, and I felt my anxiety slipping away.
A clacking that I assumed was the sound of Chai’s hooves against the wooden floor joined the music as she walked around the room.
“Hello and good morning,” she said calmly.
“My name is Chai, and I’ll be guiding you through your practice for the next hour.
We’ll begin lying down, so please start to make yourself comfortable.
Tuck your shoulder blades under your back and let your arms splay out with your palms up.
Let your legs spread out to the corners of your mat and let your ankles roll to whatever position feels natural.
If lying with your legs straight out is uncomfortable, bend your knees and place the soles of your feet flat on the mat. ”
There was a shuffling of bodies as everyone assumed the position that was most comfortable for them. I placed my legs straight out, allowed my ankles to roll outward, and felt a nice stretch through my body.
“Excellent,” Chai praised. “Close your eyes and turn your focus inward. Let go of anything happening outside of this space. Let go of any stress or anxiety you might be feeling. Bring your focus to the present moment. It’s normal for outside thoughts to pop up during your practice.
Take a moment to acknowledge those thoughts, then send them away from you when you exhale. Just let them go.”
Chai guided the class through meditation and then stretching for several minutes, instructing us on breathing techniques, and stressed the idea of proper form over depth during poses.
“Now that we’re warmed up, we’ll move into our first asana, or ‘pose.’ ” Chai moved so that she sat on her knees with her hooves pointed out behind her, and the class followed suit. I felt a slight stretch along the sides of my knees, but it wasn’t anything painful.
“Balasana is Sanskrit for ‘child’s pose,’ ” she continued once she had everyone’s attention.
“We’ll be learning the Sanskrit names throughout our sessions.
We’re going to take a deep breath in through our nose, then exhale while we lean forward.
Stretch your arms outward and bring your palms to the mat to lengthen your spine.
If your head doesn’t touch the mat and you feel any discomfort or neck pain from your head hanging without support, you can place a block on the mat for your forehead to rest on.
This may allow your body to rest more fully into the pose. ”
I watched Chai, studying each of her controlled movements as she performed the pose. She made it look so fluid, so effortless. Meanwhile, I felt rigid and out of practice, but that’s what I was here for. To work on improving myself—both my flexibility and my mindset.
I inhaled deeply, then leaned forward as I exhaled, letting my wandering thoughts and negativity leave me with the pose.
While my head was down and I held the asana, Chai spoke again. “Listen to your body. Know that whatever you do is perfect. Don’t compare yourself or your body to anyone else. Do what’s right for your body and honor yourself with your yoga practice. Let’s move into our next asana.”
—
By the end of class, my mind was calm and at ease, and my body felt loose and relaxed. I was positive I’d be sore tomorrow, but it would be the good kind of sore that came along with moving your body.
We wiped down our mats and returned our equipment to the racks, the other students making conversation before filing out the door. I packed my things slowly, dragging it out until Chai and I were the only ones left in the studio.
“So, what did you think?” she asked with a smile.
I took a deep breath. “You know, I really enjoyed it. It was nice to let go of my thoughts and focus on my body and my breathing. Some of the asanas were a little difficult, but I’m sure it’ll get easier as my flexibility improves.”
Her ears perked up. “I take it you’ll be at the next class?”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod, not needing time to think about it, “I will.”
She clasped her hands together and bounced from hoof to hoof. “I’m so glad! And it’ll absolutely get easier over time. We’re striving for progress, not perfection.”
Progress, not perfection.
That was another one for my mirror.