Paige walks in with a takeout cup of tea that’s, if I had to wager a guess, dandelion, since she grimaced and said she was sick of decaffeinated green tea phase last week. There are predictable phases I’ve come to know, and it’s dandelion’s time to return in circulation.
In a lavender maxi-sundress, she pushes stylish sunglasses up to hold back her warm brown hair, matching eyes crinkled in a smile. “Good morning!”
I yank one of my earbuds free, greet her with a friendly, “Why the fuck isn’t there coffee in your other hand?”
“I thought I was going back home, but Gabriel’s gone for that show in Vegas. I wanted to be around people. I miss my classes.”
She’d been out with a nasty cold so I ask, “How’re you feeling?”
“Better,” she shrugs. “Tired but good. Definitely not contagious anymore.” Lifting a small stack of mail I left on her desk’s corner by the pitcher-sized smiling Buddha statue, she says a distracted, “Sorry about not bringing you coffee.”
“I’m trying to cut down anyway. One is fine. I don’t need three. But they’re so delicious!” I tap on the screen, “I have some good news,” and quickly pull my finger back because she hates oil on her computer. “We’re in the black this quarter.”
The shuffling freezes and she blinks at me. “Really?”
“We had an increase of 12.3% over last quarter.”
“Seriously??!”
“I have to say, I’m taking full credit.”
She bursts out laughing — from excitement. What I said wasn’t that funny, but it gave the news flight. Guiltily shutting her mouth, Paige’s long eyelashes dart in the direction of a class who should not be disturbed.
We listen for a second and can’t tell if they heard her.
Hurrying around the desk, Paige plants one palm down for balance as she leans in to have a look, gold bracelet shining, unopened envelopes lightly gripped in her diamond-laden left hand.
I watch her reading the numbers, growing smile making me happy to have such great news to give.
It’s a fear of hers to ever have to rely on Gabriel. Early on, I tentatively had conversations with her about it — he’s a multi-millionaire and all that.
“I don’t care about that though. I’ve got to make my own money. I need something independent of what he’s doing to feel secure.”
Paige came into their relationship with a history of addiction and abandonment in her family that made her feel survival was a monster breathing down her neck to do more, be strong, never falter.
Never rely on anyone.
Trust is hard.
The idea of leaning on anyone is impossible, even abhorrent to her, especially on fame she didn’t earn.
I cross my legs on the chair’s pleather to smile, “See? That marketing we did worked. If you want to help people, but they don’t know that you’re here or the things you can give them, you’re both losing out.” Rolling my eyes I mutter, “And then what happens? Some chick with shitty classes who doesn’t care about them at all is the only one they find because she advertises and you don’t. Not cool.”
Paige sighs, “Like my old boss,” straightening up. “I’m so glad she’s gone. She hated yoga. Her starting this place was bizarre. It was like you owning it.”
“Right!” I throw up my hand. “Perfect example!”
Absently sifting through the mail, she’s not seeing it, my news too good to be forgotten. After a moment, Paige sets the stack down for later by an Om This cup that houses pens and pencils, quietly confessing, “The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to reach more people so I could help them feel good.”
“Because that looks like it could be coffee,” I point at her tea, “I want some. I am seriously obsessed. But about you wanting to help people? You helped me.”
Her eyebrows hike. “Oh?”
I let a dramatic pause fill the air because she knows all too well that I don’t take Om This classes.
How has she helped me exactly hovers in the air between us and I let her breathe that in until the breaking point where she becomes exasperated. “I finally felt what The Now is.”
Paige sits on the desk. “I’m listening!”
Leaning forward, I rest my elbow on crossed legs, my other hand on the desk. “It was really interesting actually. I was with someone, and we got to a place where we were completely focused on each other in that moment. I was focused on him and he was the same with me and it made everything else outside of us disappear, but between us became crystal clear, yet without thought.”
Paige tilts her head, amused. “You’re talking about sex, Lexi.”
Covering my laugh so we don’t interrupt the class, I insist, “No, it wasn’t the sex! It was the moments in between! The feeling was palpable, like everything of the mind disappeared. Any insecurities, gone. Any thoughts about what was even happening, gone! I was just there with him. Really there! In my own skin, present, yet not of this world, if that makes any sense.”
A grin spreads as recognition lights her eyes. “That’s what we’re doing in my classes, Lex, that’s the goal. And it’s always driven me crazy that you’re not into it, but at least you got there somehow!”
“I know, I know!”
“So, are you and Brad finally in a better place?”
My smile falters. “It wasn’t Brad.”
Her eyes light up. “You have a new guy?”
“No, I don’t. I just uh…” turning back to the computer, I plug my earbud back in, “…don’t have his number. He doesn’t have mine. It was just a one night thing.”
I hear her dress brush against the desk as she stands up, causing me to look over. Picking up her tea, Paige reflects back to me, “You had a one-night stand with a guy who made you feel what it’s like to be out of your head and completely in your own skin?” Cocking an eyebrow at me, she reaches for the door knob, tea brought to her lips as she opens it. “Maybe make it
