I lived in a modern cabin perched on the side of a mountain. It had it all: sleek angles, cedar siding, a sundeck, huge windows, and a view that was to die for. Yet with each passing year, it felt less and less like home. That was typical, I guessed because I had no one to share it with. When I arrived home tonight—there would be no one there to greet me. No familiar face or affectionate touches, just silence.
But if I video chatted with Pam, it wouldn’t be silent.
Me: We can video chat and I’ll give you the grand tour.
Pam: I’d love that.
ELEVEN
PAM
If I can change my thoughts, I can change anything.
“Pamela Rollins. He showed up at your house with flowers, asked you to date him, and almost missed his flight? That sounds like something out of a romance novel!” Nancy said in a whisper that bordered on too loud.
After a week of dodging my responsibilities and spending most of my free time texting or video chatting with Alistair, I was finally back at the library for a volunteer shift. For the past hour, I’d been filling in my friend and coworker, Nancy, with all the details of what exactly had transpired since the New Year—and unlike with Tegan, I’d provided Nancy with all the juicy bits.
“I know,” I sighed, recalling how romantic it was. “But I just don't understand why he’d do all this for me.”
“Why?” Nancy gaped and leaned in closer. “You’re an amazing woman with plenty to offer! You need to stop with all that negative self-talk. Hold on a second.”
She slipped on her glasses from where they hung on a beaded lanyard around her neck and began typing furiously, searching for something in the library’s database system.
“Aha!” she said after scrolling down the page and scribbling a number on a sticky note. “I’ll be right back.”
I watched her bustle off into the stacks, her bohemian skirt fluttering behind her. I loved how it was the dead of winter, and she was dressed like it was the summer of ‘69.
Nancy and I had been friends since middle school, but her life had gone in a drastically different direction than mine. She’d gone away to college, explored exotic places, and never married or had children. She was the free spirit to my homebody, and I appreciated her for it.
After a few minutes, she returned and handed me a book.
Finding Yourself After Forty: How Mantras, Meditation, and Daily Yoga Transformed My Life.
A self-help book?
She couldn’t possibly be serious.
“Don’t you do it. Don’t look at me like that, Pam,” she said, pushing the book toward me again. “I saw the author speak a few months ago in Santa Fe, and it was life-changing. Just take it home and read it. I really think it’ll speak to you. Especially in your current situation.”
I grabbed the book, flipping it over to find a woman our age dressed from head to toe in spandex, smiling at the camera as she held some elaborate yoga pose. “Nance, you know I’m not flexible. How is this supposed to help me?”
She laughed and shook her head. “I mean, yogawouldhelp with your flexibility, but it isn’t only about yoga. It’s the mantras—the affirmations. Reminding yourself that you're worthy of good things.”
“Reminding myself I’m worthy of good things, hmm?” As a mom, I constantly did that for my children, but when was the last time I’d talked myself up? When was the last time I truly believed I was something special?
Maybe my marriage had done more damage than I’d realized.
Nancy reached out and grabbed my hands where they rested on the book’s cover, giving them a soft squeeze. “If anyone deserves a little romance, it’s you. And maybe you’ll be inspired to take up yoga. Work on your flexibility a little bit for Alistair.”
“Nancy!” I choked out and swatted her arm, sending her into a fit of laughter that had the library patrons glaring in our direction.
“You never know. You’re in for quite the workout if he can go twenty times—”
“Will you stop it!” I hissed. I could feel my cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.
She wiggled her eyebrows and slipped off her glasses, letting them dangle around her neck. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m happy for you, Pam. I really am. Alistair sounds lovely.”
“He is. But the distance…” I thought about it more often than I liked to admit. It wasn’t like I could just hop in the car and stop by his place whenever I wanted.
