Chapter Eight
LENA
The next week sailed by in a flurry of meetings, lawyers, banks, and paperwork.
By Saturday night, I was looking forward to a lazy Sunday free of responsibility and a long swim with the charming instructor whose magnetic voice, athletic body, and carefree personality was becoming harder to resist with each lesson.
Dawn splayed its fingers over the horizon as I pedaled my way into Harbour Town, and the early morning’s quiet stillness delivered the peace and tranquility I’d hoped for.
I locked my beach cruiser to the bike rack in front of the breakfast joint my grandma and I had frequented since I was a child.
I hadn’t visited the spot yet on this trip, scared the experience might trigger further heartache and grief.
But as I climbed the creaky steps of the familiar wooden porch, the weight atop my shoulders didn’t become any heavier, and the aching hole in my heart didn’t expand.
The touch of the cool, damp air against my skin, the island smells swirling together with coffee and bakery, the whine and whirr of the espresso machine… Memories surfaced, and instead of pain and loss, nostalgia and reminiscence conjured a sense of comfort and home.
But the real test waited inside.
I pushed through the front door into a near-empty café, and the owner—my grandma’s closest friend—looked up from the register. Her eyes went wide, and I smiled. “Hi, Sonia.”
“Lena! Oh, Lena, my dear.”
The older woman with kind eyes, dark, wrinkled skin, and a motherly mien walked around the counter and opened her arms. I stepped into them, and she wrapped me in a warm hug.
Her perfume’s floral scent and the softness of her loving embrace brought me to tears, and a single sob escaped me as they spilled down my face.
I squeezed harder, relieved my emotions stemmed from happiness instead of grief.
I’d missed Sonia, and her presence and our connection amplified my sense of home.
“My beautiful girl.” She pulled back and held me at arm’s length. “I was wondering when you’d come by. If you’d waited much longer, I’d have come knocking on your door.” She chuckled and pulled me back into her arms.
“I’m sorry. I should have come sooner, but…”
She released me again and held my hands in her knobby fingers. “No sorries, hun. I miss your grandma terribly. I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you. You needed time, and that’s perfectly fine. Now. What can I get you for breakfast while we catch up?”
“Just a triple latte for now, thanks.”
“Still over-caffeinating?”
I laughed. “Yes. Grandma never could break me of the habit.”
“Bah!” She waved a hand and walked behind the counter to the espresso machine. “There’s nothing wrong with coffee. Your grandma just had a thing about caffeine.”
“But a glass of brandy or two was okay.” I chuckled and shook my head.
“We all have our vices. So. Tell me. What have you been up to?”
I leaned against the counter and watched her pack coffee into the portafilter. “Paperwork. Sorting through an entire life’s worth of stuff. Deciding what to keep, what to donate.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”
I shook my hand at her like there was an insect in front of me. “Don’t. Please don’t. I can’t take the pity voice. Especially not from you. I’ll just start spiraling.”
“No pity voice. Got it.” She nodded and returned her attention to steaming my milk.
“I’ve been taking swimming lessons.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve had two so far, but I’m already more comfortable in the water.”
“Your grandma hated the water, but I always thought she should’ve gotten you lessons.”
“No time like the present. And focusing on something new has been helping me stay positive.” But it wasn’t just the swimming that had lifted my mood.
It was Elias. His positive attitude was infectious, and his lighthearted outlook had softened the impending sense of doom that gripped my insides anytime I considered my future.
“That’s wonderful!”
She handed me the paper cup with a plastic lid, and I blew on the little spout as I brought the divine goodness to my lips. I closed my eyes and sipped. “Mmm. Liquid perfection. Thanks, Sonia.”
“You’re welcome, hun. Just glad you’re here.”
My phone vibrated. Who could be calling this early?
I fished my phone out of my purse, hoping nothing was wrong with the studio, but it wasn’t Candy. I didn’t recognize the number, but it had a Hilton Head area code, so I answered.
“Hello?”
“Lena?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Harry. From Hot Yoga Hilton Head? We spoke last week?”
“Oh, yes! Harry! Hello.”
I’d introduced myself to Harry after class earlier in the week and discovered the reasons behind the state of the studio.
Two instructors had moved off the island the previous year, and he hadn’t been able to find replacements.
Membership had dwindled with the new, limited schedule, and maintenance became an expense he couldn’t afford.
He desperately wanted to retire but felt he owed it to the community to stay open.
I empathized with his situation—I would have done the same—so, I’d given him my number and told him if he needed help while I was in town, I’d be happy to oblige. Apparently, he needed help.
“I hate to ask on such short notice, but can you cover my 8:30? I need to take my dog to the vet, and I can’t get ahold of my other teachers. I’m really worried. She’s never not gotten up for her morning walk, and—”
“Stop right there, Harry. I’ll take care of it, no problem.”
He let out a tremendous sigh. “I owe you big time. I’m taking her in now. I’ll leave a set of keys in the mailbox. The HVAC controls are behind the front desk, and the room takes a while to heat up so—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. You go take care of your dog.”
“Thank you so much, Lena.”
“No problem.”
I ended the call and checked the time—ten after seven. If I was going to make it to Coligny in time to prepare the practice room before class, I needed to move. But first I needed to text Elias.
Hey. I just got a call from the yoga studio. They need a sub for the 8:30, so I won’t make our swim lesson. Sorry for the short notice.
I tucked my phone back in my purse. “Sorry, Sonia. That was the yoga studio in Coligny. They need a teacher at 8:30.”
“Go, go. I know how much you love teaching. Just promise you’ll come back and see me soon?”
“Absolutely. Promise.”
I leaned across the counter, kissed her wrinkled cheek, and an hour later turned on the heat of Hot Yoga Hilton Head for a ninety-minute flow.
I lit a stick of Nag Champa and put it in the incense holder, grabbed a rental mat and towel for myself, and set up my space in the practice room. Two students entered and set up their mats for quiet meditation.
I returned to the foyer to grab a bottle of water, and the studio door swung open. Elias walked in wearing swim trunks, a muscle tank, and his crooked smile. I laughed aloud at the sight, and he winked at me before peeling the plastic off a mat he’d clearly bought on his way over.
“What are you doing here?”
“Taking a yoga class.”
I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “I can see that.”
He stepped forward to meet me. “Yoga’s important to you. It makes you happy. Your face lights up when you talk about it.” He shrugged. “I wanted to see you shine.”
My heart swelled, and the walls I’d erected around it started to crumble. Nervous, I tucked my hair behind my ear and cleared my throat. “Let’s get you set up then.”
I grabbed a towel and showed him into the practice room. While he rolled out his mat, I brought over a couple of blocks and a strap and set them at the top of his space. He scowled at the props. “What are those for?”
“They’re to help you maintain alignment in certain poses. If you need them.”
He stared at the props a beat longer, then turned his furrowed brow to me.
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when and how to use them if you need to modify. You know the basics, right? Downward Dog, Upward Dog, Warrior One…”
“Yeah, I think so.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Sounds familiar.”
“You’ll be fine. Just watch me. And take it at your own pace. If something doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” I eyed his muscle tank. “You might want to lose the shirt. It’s going to get in the way, and you’re just going to sweat through it anyway.”
He raised an eyebrow, and his lips shaped into a mischievous smile.
I rolled my eyes and shoved the towel into his chest. Time to get started.
For someone who didn’t practice regularly, or at all, Elias wasn’t half bad. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was an athlete, and his base level of fitness showed in his flow. His balance and flexibility needed work, but he could hold a pose and wasn’t too shabby for a beginner.
We had that in common, a passion for movement and a deep connection to our bodies.
Watching Elias swim, anyone could see he belonged in the water.
It amplified his playful nature, making his spirit shine even brighter.
It reminded me of how I transformed when I stepped onto my mat—present and carefree.
And he’d wanted to see me in that same light. Elias had shown up. For me. My heart expanded with affection, knocking down another piece of that crumbling wall. Maybe he wasn’t the playboy I’d imagined.
At the end of class, one of the students approached me and asked for help with her Eagle pose. I stole a glance at Elias, tilted my head toward the student, and gave a little wave. As much as I was dying to know what he thought of class, my students came first.
I spent the next fifteen minutes helping the young woman with proper alignment.
I’d noticed during class she’d struggled to stay upright in the pose, losing her balance and tipping forward.
I immediately saw the problem—she was collapsing into her back and not pulling up through her core—and as soon as I corrected her form, she was flying high.
She attacked me with a big, sweaty hug and an outburst of thanks, then pumped her fists in the air while leaving the studio.
Gratification wrapped its arms around me as I turned off the heat and closed up the practice room. Helping bring the joy of yoga to others was why I loved teaching, and the morning’s unexpected class had been a welcome reminder.
Refreshed and fulfilled, I locked the studio, turned toward the parking lot, and nearly choked on my breath.
Elias leaned against a motorcycle, ankles crossed, thick arms folded over the muscle tank now clinging to his sweaty chest. He flashed his easy, crooked smile, and I thought my knees might give out.
He ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “Hi.”
I swallowed, attempting to regain composure. “Hi.” I stepped to meet him. “You did great today.”
“Really? I felt like I had two left legs. Yoga is no joke.”
“Really. You have excellent awareness of your body and space. Once you get the hang of the flow, you’ll be able to tailor the poses for yourself, and that’s when the magic happens.”
“You’re an awesome teacher, Lena.”
My heart burst with pride. “Thank you.”
“I can see why your studio in Charleston is so successful. There was a sense of community in there, even with just the four of us. It felt like we were all working together.”
“Thanks. That’s kind of you.”
“It’s true. I know you said you don’t feel needed, but what I experienced in class today says different. You’ve been here for what—two weeks? And the owner already trusts you enough to ask for your help? That student needed you after class, and I definitely needed you to help me with those bricks.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back a snicker. “Blocks.”
“See?”
I chuckled despite myself.
He pressed on. “You’re needed. This community needs you, and I wanted to make sure you recognized that.”
“Thanks.” I tucked a loose hair behind my ear, embarrassed by the praise, but grateful for the perspective. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Anytime.” He met my gaze with the full force of his Hollywood smile, sending butterflies to assault my insides. He pushed off the bike and put on his helmet. “I gotta jet—big charter this afternoon. I’ll see you Tuesday morning for our lesson?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Right on.” He hopped on his motorcycle, and the thunder of the engine tore through the morning silence. “Later, Lena,” he shouted and sped off.
The rumble of Elias’s bike faded as I unlocked my beach cruiser and tossed my things in the basket. I hopped on and started the long pedal back to the south end of Sea Pines. The breeze felt cool against my heated skin, and the Sunday morning tranquility soon swept me into reflection.
The island’s mystic energy surrounded me, and Elias, Sonia, and my grandma’s ever-present spirit had started to fill the gaping hole in my heart with joy, beauty, and comfort. I no longer cried every day. I could think straight. I could finally consider my future.
A crane spread its wings and launched out of the swampy waterway. The stream opened into one of the larger ponds, and an alligator sun-bathed on the bank, gaping jaws parted and turned up to the late-morning sun. I smiled. First gator of the trip.
Gods, I loved Hilton Head. So peaceful. So magical. So me.
But I needed to get back to my community, didn’t I? Back to my studio and students. Teaching that class and Elias’s wise words had made that abundantly clear.
But the more I thought about it, in many respects, my life in Charleston had come to an end.
I didn’t have a house or a family to go back to.
My so-called “friends” belonged to my ex.
All I had left was my studio, which, if I was honest, had been tainted by sharing it with my ex-husband and discovering he’d cheated on me with one of our students.
For years. Angry heat seared my neck, and I quickly pushed the memory away.
Maybe it was time to start over. I’d told Elias the Charleston studio could practically run itself, and I hadn’t been exaggerating; no reason I couldn’t hand off the reins. I’d built that community from scratch; no reason I couldn’t do that again somewhere else.
Was it possible? Could I do that?
I didn’t want to live in the past, but Hilton Head no longer felt like a step backward.
Instead, my grandma’s house and the island felt fresh as if old loves and distant memories had been reawakened with a new twist. For the first time since I’d arrived, I pictured what the future might look like if I stayed on the island, and I liked what I saw.