Before I can talk myself out of it, I send the text quickly and immediately cringe. God, it feels like forever since I texted a man. But I need to start trusting someone. I need to have someone in my corner.
I look at the screen, seeing no bubbles or indication that he’s seen it. The stupid message stays unread, and I throw my cell back in my bag, remorse for sending it already sinking into my shoulders.
“I’ll just go look at the noticeboard.” Stepping away from James, I walk to the far wall, coming face-to-face with the large community noticeboard that’s been like a lifeline for us. This board is where I found our cottage. It’s also where I learned about the diner needing a waitress and found some free secondhand furniture and items for our home. It’s my good luck board.
“Hey, Nikki.”
Looking up, I see Daisy, a new local resident, who moved here not long ago. Always bright and bubbly, her boyfriend owns the luxury whiskey distillery in town, the Whiteman men well known and central figures around here. They’re both nice guys, although I don’t speak to them much. I keep my head low, my presence small, not wanting any attention.
“Hi, Daisy.” I shuffle back as she pins something to the board.
She turns to me and smiles. “I’m starting a new class, if you’re interested?”
I look at the paper she pinned. A new community yoga class at her studio down the street.
“Oh, um, I can’t. I have work during the day and have James after school.” I swallow my disappointment. I used to do yoga, all through high school and college. It was the only thing that kept me sane. I really miss it.
“It’s at night, so bring James. Kids love yoga, and even if he doesn’t, he can always sit in my office and read or play games.”
James would probably hate yoga but would actually love the peace and quiet of a studio where he can escape with a good book. I look back at the paper and bite my lip. It doesn’t have the price on it. My rule of thumb in life is, if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.
“I don’t think I can do it.”
“Are you sure? It’s free. It’s a community night,” she tells me softly, like she already knows my inner thoughts.
My brow pinches. “Community night?”
“Yeah, one night a week, open for all, no cost to anyone. I’m trying to talk Rochelle into coming. I think it would do her good to stretch out her back.”
That makes me smile. It would do her good.
“I do miss it.” My voice is low, like I’m talking to myself, but Daisy catches it, and her face lights up.
“You’ve done yoga before?”
Shit. I said too much.
“Not much. Just a little in college.” I try to wave it off.
“Oh, what college did you go to?”
Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m getting too relaxed around here.
“Just a small college,” I say simply, not offering more information.
Her face falters, and I feel bad. It’s a stupid response. Obviously, my college has a name. But I can’t give it. The silence around us turns awkward, and I inwardly break a little.
“Oh… well… I’m always looking for yoga buddies…” Her voice lifts at the end, sounding hopeful, and I know better than most what it’s like to move to a small town and have no friends. Daisy has friends, but I’m sure she’d like more. She’s about my age, super friendly, and we seem to get along whenever we talk.
“Maybe I can come this week?” I’m tentative. I don’t want to promise her; I’ll probably chicken out on the day. But I do love yoga, and while walking home in the dark isn’t my idea of a good time, especially after getting mugged, Whispers is generally quiet, so I don’t fear it like I probably should.
“I’ll save you a mat. I can’t wait. See you then!” She has an extra spring in her step as she walks out.
“Bye!” I shout after her as James walks up.
“Nikki, look.” He points to the noticeboard, and I read the paper. Bikes free to a good home.
Giddy, I grab the paper, knowing that will cut our commute in half. “Oooh, looks like we’ve just found some transport.”
