Chapter 25
After a quick stop at the cottage to splash water on her face and scan the schedule, Gabby decided on meditation with Jasmine. She’d show her face, act normal, and then go search someone’s room. Feeling determined, she marched to class.
“Gia!” a voice called. She looked up to see her mother.
“Mom, what didn’t you understand about ‘stay in your room’?” Gabby glanced around to see if they’d been spotted.
“It’s fine. I didn’t fly all the way here to sit in a room.” Her mom tightened her fanny pack and said, “Have you talked to Phil yet?”
Gabby shut her eyes. What was this, The Parent Trap? That show was only cute from a kid’s perspective.
“It’s not because George is Black, is it?” Gabby side-eyed her mom. Her mom might be annoying, but Gabby never thought she was racist. Fingers crossed she was right on that one.
“No!” Elena sounded annoyed at the question. “It’s because you were married to Phil. You have children with Phil. He’s a good man.”
Not racist—phew, but still, Gabby fought the urge to hip-check her mom off the path.
“Phil came all this way—” Her mother gave her a critical look.
Gabby’s blood pressure was skyrocketing.
“Do you want a Xanax? You’re sweating a lot, honey.”
Gabby scoffed and in a superior voice said, “I’m not going to pop a Xanax on the way to meditation. How bad off do you think I am?” She was pretending now. A Xanax would probably be a good idea.
With a look of distaste, like when Gabby wore an outfit she didn’t like, Elena said, “Gabriella, I’m not sure if this marriage is the right choice for you, not if you’re this stressed already.
” Managing to look sad and judgmental at the same time, Elena said, “And if you weren’t even comfortable introducing George to your mother, there must be something wrong. ”
Dear god.
Elena narrowed her eyes and scanned her daughter’s expression. “You’re hiding something.”
In a quiet voice, only because she was trying to shove her rage in a box before it burst out and made a mess, Gabby said, “I changed my mind.”
“About the marriage?” her mom said, suddenly all ears.
“No,” Gabby said. “About the Xanax.”
Her mom unzipped her fanny pack and made a production out of dispensing a pill from a typical prescription bottle. This was something she’d expect from someone Granny’s age, not a woman a few years older than JLo.
Meditation was in the G-hut again. Gabby tripped on one of the carefully placed rocks. The path was too narrow for her and her mother. The entire resort wasn’t big enough for the two of them.
Elena oohed and ahhed all the way out there. “Is George paying for all of this?”
“Geez. It’s not why I’m with him, Mom.”
“What does he do for a living again?”
“He invented the fidget spinner,” Gabby said flatly, using the same dumb line she’d used with Lana and Naomi. What did her mom care anyway?
Her mom scrunched up her face in confusion over that one. “Those obnoxious toys?”
Gabby kept her eyes ahead. This Xanax had too much anger to push through to really make a difference today.
“Is inventing even a job?”
“Yup.”
“I just don’t understand young people these days.”
“That’s obvious.”
“Gabby, you’re not being very welcoming. “
Gabby stopped and looked at her dead in the eye. “I didn’t invite you.”
“Hmmph.” Elena loudly swallowed her judgment.
In the G-hut, Jasmine was setting the mood with incense. A beautiful woman with silky black hair that flowed over her shoulders and touched the floor was creating a sound bath. Until Gabby entered the room, it had probably been very relaxing.
Her mom leaned back and at an ear-splitting volume, said, “Ohmygawd. Isn’t this a treat?”
Gabby braced herself. She looked at Jasmine and then back to her mom. She had two choices: Pretend like nothing was going on or bite the bullet. Pretending required patience, so she walked up to Jasmine and said hello.
“Gia,” Jasmine trilled, “we missed you at yoga this morning. I hope it was for honeymoon reasons.”
If only it had been for honeymoon reasons. Mind-blowing sex already felt like it had been a lifetime ago.
Gabby laughed like it wasn’t physically painful and said, “Nope, it’s door number three.” She gestured to Elena. “Jasmine, this is my mom, Elena. Mom, this is Jasmine.”
Elena’s jaw dropped. “My goodness. You are even more beautiful in person.”
Gabby should have known her mom would know everyone here. Elena was the queen of the gossip rags. TMZ was the only news she watched.
“It’s so nice that you’re here to support your daughter,” Jasmine said diplomatically. Truthfully, she looked skeptical about Elena.
Elena smiled. “She’s my only daughter.”
After meditation, Jasmine pulled Gabby aside. With a meaningful glance at Elena, who was across the room, she said, “Are you okay?”
Gabby shook her head. “Sort of. No, not really. It’s a lot.”
“My mom is a lot, too,” Jasmine said.
“To tell you the truth, I could have done without this particular surprise visit, even though it was sweet of them.”
“Sit down, Gia. Lotus pose, palms up.”
Gabby copied Jasmine, sitting cross-legged, albeit with her knees sticking a lot higher up in the air. Jasmine had clearly discovered stretching before the age of thirty-eight.
“Gia, I want you to repeat after me.”
Gabby shut her eyes and embraced the experience.
She trustfalled into the Xanax, into Jasmine’s mantra.
Jasmine seemed okay so far. Her only crime was marrying an absolute dick.
A charming one. Gabby had also married a dick, one who wasn’t charming, handsome, or nearly as rich as G, so she had no room to judge.
For a while, they hummed. It seemed silly, but Jasmine made her do it so long that she forgot herself.
“Now repeat after me: I am not alone.”
Okay, Mulder.
“Repeat after me, Gia.”
“Oh, oops. I am not alone.”
“Even though sometimes I might wish I was.”
Gabby giggled.
Together they repeated the saying, “I am not alone, even though sometimes I might wish I was.”
It didn’t offer any wisdom or fix, but there was solidarity in the mantra. Maybe she wasn’t alone. There were other people out there being tortured by their families too.
“Misery is best shared,” Jasmine said.
“Misery is best shared,” Gabby repeated with feeling.
“That’s not part of the mantra,” Jasmine said.
“It should be. That’s the truest thing you said,” another voice piped up, and Gabby opened her eyes to see Naomi.
The way Naomi and Jasmine smiled at each other made Gabby believe that they’d been through it together, or at least they thought they had. Could anything be that bad with millions of dollars?
“Where were you, skipping meditation?” Jasmine gave Naomi a look that communicated some subtext that Gabby didn’t understand.
“Sometimes I find weed to be more helpful than mantras,” Naomi said with a smile.
“Stop it, Moni!” Jasmine exclaimed.
“What if I want to wallow?”
Gabby took a deeper glance at Naomi. What did she have to be so miserable about? The woman was in paradise, living her best life.
On the way out of the hut, Jasmine sidled up to Gabby. “Moni’s up in her feelings about Amanda Duvall today. Naomi wanted her to join.”
“Weren’t you worried that she’d do a story about you or something?”
“Oh, we would have loved that! I tried to convince her to do a story on us, but she told me that, if we were ever in one of her stories, it would be a bad sign.”
Amanda didn’t do puff pieces. Gabby had noticed that.
“You don’t have anything to hide?” Gabby asked, watching Jasmine’s face carefully.
“Oh no! We have no secrets here.” Ominously, she said, “Inner-G is not a place for someone with things to hide.”