I find the noise a challenge at first as I sit on my pink mat, which I’d managed to unearth from one of the larger moving boxes in the spare bedroom. The shouts of the workers and the buzz of their saws and staccato banging of their nail guns are a distraction, but Ellie sets an example of a woman at peace and I soon have the feeling of being completely in the room with her. Nothing outside can touch me.
I let her guide me through the asanas. It’s hard not to gawk at her incredible flexibility and strength. I’m not clumsy, and after the last few rough months, I’m certainly not overweight, but I’m not lithe. That’s the word that keeps running through my mind as I watch Ellie move smoothly from one long-held pose to the next. She is sixty-five years old and she is still lithe.
This is just what I need, I think, before reminding myself not to think. Just to be. Moments of peace come and go. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt any peace at all, so I’m grateful. Ellie’s breathing seems to become my own, or perhaps it’s the other way around. We end, of course, with Savasana, and I shut my eyes and feel the hot lemony air against my skin as I try to calm my mind instead of thinking of all I need to do for the rest of the day. I’ve almost managed to clear the thoughts away when I’m brought back to the room by the slamming of a car door.
We both stretch and sit up slowly. She looks at me. “All the noise was a real test,” she says. “Were you able to cope with the distractions?”
“I was,” I say, smiling. “That was incredible, Ellie.” I stretch my arms over my head. “Really, it was just what I needed. And you’re amazing.”
“I could tell you found it soothing,” she says. “I think you’d benefit from making this a regular—”
“Ellie!” She’s interrupted by a woman’s voice calling from the yard. Ellie gets to her feet, graceful as a gazelle, and looks out the window. “Up here,” she calls, then turns to me. “It’s a friend,” she says. “I told her you’d be here and not to come till later, but no one listens to me, it seems.” Her smile looks distracted now, and I think it’s time for me to leave.
“Oh, I’ll go,” I say, scrambling to the end of my mat.
I hear someone on the stairs and a slender woman about Ellie’s age appears in the doorway as I begin rolling up my mat. She wears black jeans and a peach-colored blouse. Her white hair is stylish, very short on one side, grazing her chin on the other. I imagine she was a real beauty when she was younger. Her smile is instantly engaging and I smile back at her as I roll the mat. She’s vaguely familiar, as is nearly everyone in Round Hill.
She grins at me. “Reed Miller’s daughter!” she says. “Ellie told me you’d be here today. I’ve seen you around over the years but didn’t know who you were.”
“This is Brenda Cleveland,” Ellie says. She’s on her feet now, doing something with the essential-oil diffuser. She glances at me over her shoulder as she adds, “She’s my oldest friend.”
“Oldest, as in we’ve known each other a very long time,” Brenda says. “I’m actually two months younger than she is.” She looks around the empty room. “You really need some chairs in here, Ellie,” she says. She sits down cautiously on the purple exercise ball.
I get to my feet and slip the carrying strap of my mat over my shoulder. “I’m Kayla.” I hold out my hand, which she shakes. “You know my father personally?” I ask. Everyone knows Reed Miller, the former mayor. Not everyone knows him as a friend.
Brenda sends Ellie an odd look, almost quizzical, and Ellie seems to avoid eye contact with her as she pours more oil into the diffuser.
“Of course I know your father,” Brenda says. “Everybody knows everybody, especially those of us from the old days when Round Hill was tiny. I knew your mom, too. But Ellie knew your father best.”
“We’re not talking about that,” Ellie says firmly. She screws on the top of the bottle of oil.
Brenda winks at me. “I guess we’re not talking about that,” she says.
“Okay.” I smile, but I’m curious. I remember how both Ellie and my father acted strangely when I mentioned one to the other. A long-ago romance that ended badly? I’m going to have to have a chat with Daddy.
“I hope you didn’t stop the class on my account,” Brenda says to Ellie. “I can visit with Buddy and Mama downstairs if you want to keep going for a while.”