“Try it with me,” she continues in a mock-serious tone. “Inhale…andohmmmmmm.”
I parody her hum loudly right as a lull in conversation happens, my deepohmmmcarrying through the room at an unreasonable volume. We both start chuckling, which turns into full blown laughter, which turns into–
“That’s enough. You have been a distraction from the moment you walked in here,” the instructor snaps. “It’s not fair to the other partners here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave."
Don’t have to tell me twice.
We hastily clamber off of the mat, grabbing our things haphazardly and bolting from the gym, Abby’s maniacal giggles echoing through the large space.
Once we’re outside, she doubles over in laughter, hands on her knees as she tries to compose herself. I haven’t seen her laugh this hard since before Aaron died, and an odd combination of joy and heartache gives me emotional whiplash.
After several minutes, she straightens up with a deep breath, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.
“God, I needed that,” she says breathlessly. “I mean, I really did want to learn things, but holy shit that was ten times better than that. Definitely makes the top five most bizarre experiences I’ve ever had.”
“You’re telling me,” I say with a grin. “I’m here to support you, but please don’t ever make me get in those positions again. Or meditate. Or hear the term ‘bodyfeeling.’”
To my surprise, her cheeks turn a pink and she looks flustered.
Was she struggling as much as I was?
“Yeah,” she says bashfully. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I don’t think I’ve ever been that physically close with anyone other than Aaron. It was…” She lets her sentence trail off, and I wish she would tell me what it was.
It was your best friend’s widow being touched intimately for the first time since he died, even if it was technically clinical.
“Anyway,” I say, changing the subject. “Do you think they immediately started talking shit about us after we left?”
“Oh, without a doubt,” she laughs. “The whole town will probably know we caused a scene by dinnertime tonight.”
“God help me if the boys at the station find out,” I say with a shiver.
“Oh they’ll find out alright,” she says, standing on her tiptoes and patting me on the head. “Because I plan on telling them in explicit detail so I can watch them tease you relentlessly.”
“You’d really do that to me after putting me through that?”
“Duh. And you have to let me, because I’m pregnant and emotional and need every ounce of joy I can get, Jack Robbit.”
“It’s outrageous to pull the pregnancy card for the sake of causing me misery,” I say sternly, flicking her nose playfully to balance out the reprimand. “And don’t call me that.”
“I’ll pull that card as much as I please, thank you very much,” she sniffs, unlocking the car. “And you’d do well to let me.”
“Yes ma’am, you’re the boss.” I lift my hands in surrender before moving to the passenger side and stooping low to climb into her sedan.
She really could boss me around all she wants, and an uncomfortable thought–one that I should definitelynotbe thinking about my best friend–strikes me.
I think I’d do anything she told me to without a second thought.
Chapter 28
Abby
Thirty Weeks
"Son of a bitch!"
I've barely stepped through the door when Jack's voice damn near rattles the frames on the walls.
"God fucking dammit!"
