Riley looked at the woman in head-to-toe pink. Her eyes were lavender today. “Yes. That’sexactlyit. But she’s never going to approve of me. I didn’t make a very good first impression.”
“How bad could it have been?”
“She thought I was a homeless person.”
“Why would she have thought that?” Then those lavender eyes traveled over Riley from head to bare feet. “Never mind. I’m sure she’ll come around.”
Riley glanced down at her outfit.
Her black leggings had a hole in one knee from Burt discovering a taco sauce stain and eating through the material. And groggy from yesterday’s bout with her mysterious malady, she’d grabbed the first clean shirt she could find, not realizing until it was too late that it was Nick’s, not hers.
“How would you feel about going shopping after class?” Sesame asked.
Riley decided to not be insulted by the well-meaning offer since it would give her more time with her quarry. “I’d love to,” she said.
The woman let out a high-pitched squeal and clasped her hands under her chin. “Shopping is my favorite!”
“I had a feeling.”
“Welcome, everyone. If you’ll all find your places, we’ll begin,” Wander announced, sinking gracefully into a seated position on her organic vegan yoga mat that had been handwoven by artisans in Costa Rica.
Riley unrolled her mat between her father and Sesame. Jasmine was in the row ahead of her, sandwiched between two hot shirtless guys who were already vying for her attention. Gabe glanced over his shoulder from the front row and nodded at Riley. She gave him a nervous thumbs-up. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Riley found her elderly neighbor Fred behind her. He was wearing a new toupee that stood up in the middle like a fauxhawk.
“Is it my new prescription, or does everyone keep getting better looking in this class?” he whispered.
“I guess Wander attracts beauty,” Riley whispered back. “I like your hair.”
He patted it like a cat. “Thanks. It’s from the David Beckham collection. I also ordered the goatee, but it’s on backorder.”
Marie delivered a sharp “Shhh!” and a hard stare from the front row.
“Sorry,” Riley muttered back.
“Let’s begin,” Wander said as the sound of chanting monks filled the room.
15
9:46 a.m., Saturday, October 26
Sesame’s yoga flow appeared to be unhindered by her large breasts. She flowed through sun salutations with ease, never wobbled once in tree pose, and somehow she even managed to equally distribute the weight of her impressive rack to balance on her hands in crow pose.
Riley noticed this a second before she tipped too far forward and nearly smashed her nose into the floor.
“Good try,” Sesame whispered encouragingly.
“Don’t give up, sweetie,” Blossom called from the other side of Roger. They were both in a modified crow pose that didn’t endanger their noses.
A drop of sweat dripped off Riley’s chin and hit the mat. Wander’s yoga classes were never exactly a walk in the park, but with Sesame to her right, judgmental Marie in the front row, and not nearly enough sleep after a bout of psychic vertigo, she felt ready to collapse on the floor.
Sesame suddenly contracted her freakishly strong core and shot her legs backward, landing lightly in a high plank. The back row offered up scattered applause.
Damn it.
Desperately, Riley gave a little hop, tipping forward until her weight was entirely on her hands and her toes came off the ground. It was an ugly, deformed crow. The kind of bird that, if you saw it in nature, you’d assume it had recently flown into a plate-glass window, but it still counted.
“Great work, everyone. Let’s work our way down to the floor,” Wander called from where she was adjusting Marie’s respectable-looking crow.
She shot Riley a nod.
