Following tea at Claudia’s,I head to the gym. I’m wearing my best workout wear; my favorite Lululemon yoga pants paired with the expensive dusty rose top with the intricate detailing at the back. I’ve got my runners on and a yoga bag on one shoulder. It’s a beautiful day and if it weren’t for my not-so-good intentions, I could say this was a great idea. The day’s schedule is fucked up but I don’t care. All I can see is Joel, and my need to get close to him.
As it turns out, Joel’s sister’s studio is just about a fifteen minute walk or so from Orchard Heights. My heart is practically sprinting out of my chest as I near the studio. What will I say if I see him? How will I act? Will he be able to see right through me, to see how psychotic I am? Will he run the other way?
When I spot the storefront, the playful pink letters spelling out SERENITY YOGA, my whole body starts to shake, and this takes me by surprise. I draw in a long breath and tell myself to settle down. No one knows, I remind myself.
No one knows you’re not quite right, Mischa.
It’s a lovely afternoon, and I’m just getting a nice workout in. When I’m done, I’ll be rejuvenated and full of energy. I’ll head back home, do a bit of work, and cook cashew chicken stir-fry for my family. I’ll cut up some asian pear for the salad. I’m completely normal.
The woman at the front desk is young and perky. Her dark ponytail dances as she hops off her stool and welcomes me. She doesn’t know that my heart is beating a mile a minute, that my limbs are shaking. She’s not aware that I don’t trust my own legs to hold me up.
“Hi,” she says. “How are you?” Her voice is shrill and does not calm me in the least. Her name tag reads, KENDRA. My gaze darts around the space, my mind desperately searching for a distraction, and also looking for Joel.
Joel is nowhere in sight. The space is soothing, muted shades of grey and blue. “I’m good. Thank you.”
As I approach the front desk, my step falters but not enough to be embarrassing. “I’m interested in taking the yoga class at two,” I explain. “I’ve never been here before, but I’ve heard good things from a friend.” Surprisingly, my voice is steady and my words coherent.
“Fantastic,” she cheers, as if I’ve just told her I won the lottery. “Have you tried yoga before?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “I’m not super flexible but I enjoy it quite a lot. It soothes my mind.”
Yes, it soothes my crazy, messed up mind. Perhaps it will help me today.
“Yeah, isn’t it great?” She digs into the desk drawers and pulls out a form. “Before I tried it, I totally didn’t get what the hype was all about. But now I’m a devotee. It really is great for the body and soul.”
“Yes, for sure.”
She hands me the form, and my fingers are still shaking as I take it. “I’ll need you to fill this out. Basic info, address, health history. We accept credit card, debit and cash. A single session is twenty dollars, but if you buy a package, you can save a lot. But I imagine you want to stake out the place first before you commit, see if it’s a good fit.”
“Yes… exactly.” I nod as I head toward the rounded plastic chairs in the waiting area.
My brain is numb as I fill out the form. I’m on edge, and my gaze keeps darting toward the door, hoping to see him, and also hoping not to. Once I’m done, I hand Kendra the form and we settle payment. She then gives me a quick tour. The place is small — a studio, a two-piece washroom, and two change rooms. The women’s change room has about ten lockers, two shower stalls, and a small vanity station. There’s a cozy pink arm chair in the corner. This place is much smaller than my gym.
“Juliette is teaching a pilates class right now,” Kendra tells me as we stand on the other side of the glass. There are about ten women stretching their limbs and mimicking Juliette’s every move. Kendra checks her pink watch. “Yoga starts in about ten. You’re free to go wait in the change room… there’s a comfy chair in there. As soon as the ladies come in, that’s your cue to come out.”
I absentmindedly check my email and social media accounts — nothing of interest. I resist the urge to check out Joel or Renee’s profiles. I haven’t done so in a while, and I’m quite proud of myself on that end. This, right now, though… is not so great.
The women look spent as they trail back into the small change room, one by one. They’re loud too, chatting away. I’m glad I get to leave because they’re already getting on my nerves. I shoot them a smile as I walk toward the studio.
I’m early and there’s no one in the studio, save for Juliette and I. She’s fiddling with her stereo system. I had settled down, but now that I’m actually here, that I’m really doing this, my nerves are acting up again. Thankfully, this routine is very familiar to me — I roll out my mat, take off my socks and tuck them in the corner with my yoga bag. I set my water bottle not too far away.
She finally notices me, and she bounces off her platform to greet me. “Hi, I’m the instructor, Juliette.”
She looks so much like her brother. The resemblance is uncanny; same eyes, same infectious smile.
“Hello,” I offer as we shake hands. “I’m Mischa.”
“Welcome,” she says. “First time here, right?”
I nod shyly.
“How did you hear about us?”
“Uh… from a friend,” I tell her. I don’t know why I don’t mention Joel.
The studio glass doors swing open, and two middle-aged women swoop in, all smiles. They exchange pleasantries with Juliette and I take the opportunity to retreat back to anonymity. My gaze nervously scans the doors, hoping to not see Joel.
I realize this was a huge mistake. Thank god he’s not here. What was I thinking? What I need to do is act logically. I need to initiate a conversation with Brian about Renee and Ava. Yes, he possibly may have cheated on me years ago and fathered a child. That’s no small thing, but it was years ago. Is it worth breaking up a family over it? Possibly two families? I can’t do that to Trevor and Tristan.
