Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
He lifted his foot from his ankle, traveling upward with a confidence that was not supported by the rest of his body. His arms came out to compensate, which in theory should have worked. Instead, the movement overcorrected, then corrected, each adjustment making it worse.
I shifted my weight, already calculating the distance and timing, trying to determine if I could intercept him before this became exponentially worse.
The answer to that was no. I could not.
His foot came down hard. Not where he’d intended.
One of the cats, Lady, who’d been basking on his mat, found herself included in Kevin’s learning process. There was a split second where nothing happened—just enough time for me to internally plead that nothing did—before she reacted.
Her shriek cut through the room: sharp, offended, and loud.
Every dog in the room howled back as if it was a call to action.
Tank, Hulk, and Butch, the three chihuahuas who had been examining various participants, scattered in three different directions simultaneously, which in a room with seventeen people on mats was an event with significant consequences.
Tank went left, directly under Josh’s feet.
Josh, who reacted with impressive natural athleticism, threw himself sideways. He cleared the chihuahua by a slight margin and landed on the floor with a sound that reverberated in the space.
Tank, unharmed and apparently unbothered, continued his circuit around the room.
Kevin, destabilized by the Lady incident, had not recovered. The initial instability, compounded with the secondary distraction, and his attempts to regain control thoroughly failed. I tracked the fall as it happened, fully aware of the outcome and equally aware I was too far to prevent it.
He went down in an almost graceful collapse. Directly onto Gladys. She grabbed on to Kevin. Kevin grabbed on to her and somehow they held each other upright until I got there.
“I’m sorry,” Kevin said. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
“Stop apologizing,” Gladys admonished him. “My first husband had the same issue. We worked around it.”
“The yoga or the marriage?” Kevin asked, fully upright now.
“The yoga,” Gladys clarified. “But the marriage was not so steady.”
And then Glamma began to hum. I recognized it in the first two notes.
Goodbye Earl.
I closed my eyes for one full second. When I opened them, the room had shifted. Not chaos—worse. It was that suspended time period, that everyone was processing and trying to decide what to do next.
A few giggles erupted around the room, and Glamma grinned.
Mr. Geraldi stood near the back, one hand hovering midair, throat working through what looked like a badly timed sip of water. He coughed once, then again into his arm, blinking hard like he wasn’t sure he had enough air to keep breathing.
Ms Kline had turned around completely on her mat, no longer in the last pose, her attention fixed squarely on Glamma. Her head tilted just slightly, eyes narrowed—as if she was determining whether her comment was truth or fiction.
Kevin had gone pale. Fully, unmistakably the color of a man who had just understood something he wished he hadn’t. His gaze flicked to Gladys, a healthy dose of caution now in their depths.
She smiled.
Kevin took a small step away. Then another, slower this time, like distance might improve his odds of survival. He reached out and patted her arm with careful precision. The kind of touch that suggested he knew it was best to stay on her good side moving forward.
For the love of all that is holy. Glamma.
“They didn’t kill him, “ I muttered, though based on everything I’d heard about Gladys’s first husband—and knowing what I did about these four women—I suspected that outcome might have been preferable.
My attention shifted across the room to Delaney. Her lips were pressed tight, shoulders held a fraction too still, her entire body engaged in real effort to maintain a level of professionalism. Her eyes met mine for a half-second before quickly looking away, dangerously close to losing that battle.
“You seem like a fine young man,” Glamma announced. “Perhaps you’d like to spend time with my granddaughter, Grace, after class.”
The room went quiet in a different way this time.
Grace, still on her mat, achieved a shade of red I’d never seen on her face before.
Kevin turned toward her, clearly trying to decide if Grace would be interested.
Grace focused on her mat as though it had become the most important object in the room.
Josh’s attention snapped between them—Grace, Kevin, then Glamma—his jaw tightening with each glance.
If intent alone were actionable, Glamma would require immediate medical intervention.
I wasn’t entirely convinced Josh realized the direction of his actions, but Glamma did.
The slight lift at the corner of her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes said so.
“I’m game if she is,” Kevin said.
That was, objectively, the wrong answer. Not wrong for Kevin, who was a reasonable person making a reasonable statement. Wrong in the sense that it activated something in the room that couldn’t be deactivated.
“She accepts.”
“Glamma,” Grace said, her voice carrying a level of resignation that suggested that this wasn’t the first time this had happened. “I can answer for myself.”
“Of course you can, sweetheart. I’m just helping with the pace.”
Grace turned toward Kevin, regrouping after Glamma put her on the spot. He seemed exactly her type. Taller, likely close to six feet, easygoing, the kind of person who recovered from public near-disasters and laughed about it. Still, there was a hesitation. “I apologize for my grandmother.”
“Don’t,” Kevin said. “I’m free Saturday if you are.”
Grace blinked.
Kevin, it seemed, possessed a functional center of gravity in at least one area of his life.
“Saturday, as in tomorrow night?”
Glamma watched the exchange, hands folded in front of her, hands relaxed, attention unwavering. She didn’t interrupt. Didn’t rush things. She just … waited. Like she already knew how this would end.
“Okay, tomorrow,” Grace answered.
Josh grunted.
Cheryl, from the front of the room, made a valiant attempt to get everyone back on track.
And I realized the entire class was watching this all go down. And considering that most of them were related to me, I had a fairly good idea what this week’s family dinner conversation would include.
Ms. Kline lifted her chin subtly at Mr. Geraldi who gave a quick nod in response. His pen moved with deliberate purpose across the sheet of paper. His expression was professional, neutral even. The same look he’d had all night.
My stomach did the thing it had been doing intermittently since the committee walked in. It tightened to the point of pain. Pain so deep I was sort of surprised there was no knife involved.
Then Delaney caught my eye from across the room.
She shook her head once—Not a big deal. We’ve got this—and went back to circulating.
I didn’t entirely believe her, but I kept going.
Finally, after another ten minutes, it was nearing the end of class. Every muscle in my body was tight as I watched the animals and participants settle into Savasana.
The room was finally still. Seventeen individuals on their backs, arms at their sides, the specific collective inhale of a group of people who deserved it.
I ran my threat assessment.
Henderson: Stationary. Acceptable.
Noble: Asleep. Unprecedented but welcome.
Rutherford: Quiet. Fine.
Tank, Hulk, and Butch: Chasing each other around the mats. Also acceptable.
The situation was, remarkably, under control with only about fifteen minutes of class left.
Noble shifted in his sleep. His leg kicked out and knocked into one of the chairs. The chair slammed back against the wall.
The sound lasted one second. Maybe two. And then Rutherford tipped his head back and howled.
Not a bark or a yelp. A full-on beagle howl that shattered eardrums and made you wonder if he was being tortured. He was not. And he was unscathed sitting near Grace.
It echoed in the room.
Theo managed Rutherford. I calmed Noble, who’d started to freak out. Grace had a handle on Hendersen, who had startled.
For the next five minutes, we worked on helping the participants get settled again, and we finally resumed Savasana.
Even the committee members were still. Ms. Kline had her eyes closed. Mr. Geraldi was at least not writing.
For the next five minutes, the room was calm. I should have circulated, but instead I stood there and enjoyed it. After another five minutes, Cheryl began bringing everyone back.
As my parents stood, they chatted with Doug and Sienna. I also noticed that Grace was smiling at Kevin as they chatted.
Glamma moved to my side, staring at everyone.
“I’ve got your number,” I whispered.
“Why I hope so, or how else would you reach me?” She conveniently pretended to misunderstand.
“Grace is wise to your interfering ways,” I added.
She grinned and leaned into me. “Maybe in regards to others, but she’s struggling to see things clearly for herself.”
I shook my head.
“You did well tonight, grandson.”
“Glamma, you don’t need to placate me.”
“I’m not. Things happen as they are supposed to, and no other way exists. Just let it go and see what the future brings.”
Her words gave me a boost of optimism. So much so that when Mr. Geraldi and Ms. Kline approached me, I was taken off-guard.
“Dr. Kingsley,” Mr. Geraldi began. “You’ve chosen an interesting cast of characters to participate in this yoga class. Maybe you can send me your list of animals, how you decided which ones were appropriate for the class, and how you are attempting to keep them safe.”
My stomach didn’t just drop. It seized. I nodded.
Shit.
“Dr. Kingsley. Thank you for letting me participate. It was … interesting,” Ms. Kline said.
Neither smiled. They just said goodbye and told me I’d hear from them in approximately two weeks.
Theo appeared next to me. “We have two inquiries about Noble. And one about Henderson.”
“That’s great.” The words came out too quickly. I cleared my throat and forced my shoulders to loosen. My hand found the back of my neck for a second before I dropped it, fingers curled at my side.
“And Grace is taking pictures and posting them all over our socials—” He stopped. “Did the committee turn us down?”
“No, no. Why would you think that?”
“Because you suck at lying,” he responded and crossed his arms over his chest.
“They didn’t. They said we’d hear back in two weeks.”
Theo’s earlier excitement waned, but he still gave me a quick hug and thanked me for all of my help regardless of the outcome.
Even with his words, I felt like shit. Like, if we didn’t get the grant, it was all my fault.
Delaney reached my side. Her hand rubbed up and down my arm. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Not yet anyway.” I didn’t want to talk about it. “What did Patty want?” I’d seen her approach Delaney, and their conversation had looked serious.
Delaney took a second to answer, likely determining whether or not she should push me on my response.
“She mentioned that after the last class, her back felt better and that she’d slept through the night for the first time since her husband passed.
That she'd stopped looking for something that helped. Now she wants one-on-one instruction.”
“Are you going to do it?” I was grateful for the distraction.
“I hadn’t considered offering one-on-one classes, but it might be a great way to bring in more money.”
I didn’t like the worried look that crossed her face and made a mental note to ask about what was going on at Sacred Serenity.
Mom made her way to me with a huge grin on her face. “You did an amazing job.”
“I don’t know if you and I have the same definition of amazing.”
She grinned, and my dad put his hand on my back briefly. The gesture he’d used since I was young—it was grounding. And I knew it said, I’m here. It’s okay. Then he dropped his hand and stepped away.
I finally breathed.
After they left, Glamma and her squad left too, after she’d handed me a small jewelry-type box and told me to hold on to it for her. I slipped it into my pocket as Delaney approached me. “Well, that went amazing! We should celebrate. I think we should go out!” she declared.
What the hell was she doing?
There was no way Delaney didn’t know I was stressed. She was going rogue, and I just wanted to go home.
“There’s a bar on Main that we could go to,” Grace said, jumping in. “I’ll text Mom, Dad, and Glamma to let them know we’re heading there.”
Josh scowled, and I swear I heard him mumble, “What’s wrong with Axe-hole?”
Fuck.
I had to go with them. Everyone in this space had supported me in one way or another tonight. I couldn't disappoint them.