“Show me the turtle, Toby,” Cam would ask him. Sometimes he got it right. More often not.
For a few months, Toby and Cam had been attending their senior citizens’ yoga class together. Every Saturday morning the two of them set off for the Y. Toby had his own mat now, next to Cam’s. When their teacher announced warrior one, he took his position, same as he did for tree and fish and downward dog, happy baby, andshavasana. When the class was over, he saidnamaste.
“You should give it a try,” Cam told Eleanor. “If there’s anyone who could use an hour to chill out, you’re it.”
Maybe he said this out of loving concern, but she took his words as a criticism. The irony had not escaped her that in many ways what made it possible for her husband to mellow out at yoga class was the fact that his wife was home earning a living.
Eleanor no longer knew how to slow down or be still. She said she was too busy, but there was more to it. As long as she kept moving fast, she was okay. Those moments when she was not doing anything were the hardest. The last thing Eleanor wanted was to lie still on a yoga mat for ten minutes, or even one, alone with her thoughts.
48.
Riding Without a Helmet
It was a Sunday afternoon. Cam had taken their children to the movies—a rerelease ofOne Hundred and One Dalmatians. Eleanor went out for groceries. She had just rounded the ice cream aisle when she heard a familiar voice calling out her name from the produce section.
“It must be my lucky day,” he said. “Running into you here.”
It was Timmy Pouliot. “You disappeared on us,” he said. “The guys on the team all miss you and Cam.”
He knew what had happened, of course. Everyone did.
“I could always count on seeing you up in the stands at our games,” he said. “I used to ask Cam how he got so lucky to nab a babe like you.”
Eleanor hadn’t felt like a babe in a long time, if ever. Getting called that threw her off balance.
“Cam’s been spending a lot of time with Toby,” she told him. “There just wasn’t room for softball anymore.”
“We all feel terrible about your boy.”
“Yeah.”
He picked up a melon. Smelled it. “A person still has to have a little fun sometimes, right?”
“I guess.”
He must have seen it on her face: how long it had been since Eleanor did anything remotely approaching fun. Maybe it showed, how long since anyone had kissed her. She studied an avocado.
“I should get some of these,” she said. “My younger daughter loves guacamole.”
He asked her, “You doing anything for yourself these days?”
She laughed.
“I’m buying you a beer,” he said.
“I’ve got all these groceries.”Milk, eggs, butter, cereal, paper towels.
“Do something dangerous,” he said. “Abandon your cart.”
Just like that, she did.
There was a bar across the street. He ordered IPAs for both of them.
“So, who are you dating these days, Timmy?” she asked him.
“Nobody at the moment,” he said. “Nothing that matters.”
“Every summer, you’re with a different gorgeous woman.”
