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I try not to pay too much attention to Justin during the class because that would be wrong. But the giggles continue throughout the fifty-minute session and they grow especially loud when he pushes his pelvis forward as part of the Hanging Lotus Dripping Tree move. God, that pose was made for him and even I gasp a bit, appreciating the thick vine wrapped around his waist.
Still, I love that Justin came today, even if he’s being ogled non-stop. After class ends, it gets even worse. The ladies throng around him, most of them middle-aged moms dressed in too-tight Lululemon outfits.
“Oooh, where are you from?” sings one brunette named Sanaah.
“Not around here, that’s for sure!” coos Meredith Bradley, who’s already on her third husband.
With a firm smile, I collect my man and lead him out to the parking lot.
“That was an experience,” he says with a wry smile.
I merely shake my head.
“Those ladies were ready to drag you into a cave and make you their personal man-slave!”
He laughs.
“Really? Sounds like it could be fun.”
I roll my eyes.
“Please. Would you really want to wear a tiny ruffled apron and nothing else while serving them tea and cookies?”
He snorts with laughter then, and we get into his truck before driving downtown to look for coffee. The city is very posh, and we pass a number of mansions, their enormous yards carefully sculpted and manicured.
I turn to my boyfriend.
“As you can see, New Canaan is a very wealthy, upscale neighborhood. Your work truck is going to give us away as outsiders.”
But he merely smiles mysteriously.
“Don’t judge people by their appearances, sweetheart, you never know,” he says lightly. “Maybe once upon a time, they started out like you and me. Young, hungry, with not a lot to our names.”
He’s right, and my mouth snaps shut. It’s the little things that make me respect Justin so much because his point of view is so mature, and he never assumes. I giggle and agree with him.
Soon, we’re at a local organic coffee shop and order two large hazelnut lattes. But instead of staying at the lounge to enjoy our fancy drinks, we decide to take a ride out to a deserted field Justin spotted on his way into town. We arrive just in time to climb into the bed of the truck and enjoy the afternoon sun. It makes me feel so special that he wants to do these kinds of things with me. I cuddle up close to him unable to wipe the contented smile from my face.
We stay in the field long after the sun begins to set, casting long, golden rays over our forms. We’ve been talking for hours, and to my surprise, Justin has a cooler with him filled with sandwiches and beer. Ahh, this is the life. We’re laying flat in the bed of the truck with our eyes glued to the evening sky, watching as the lavender shade becomes a deep purple ombre studded with the first twinkle of stars. He holds my hand as he speaks words of encouragement and adoration.
“I think it’s great you’ve found something you’re passionate about, Marley. I loved seeing you teach, and even if yoga isn’t where you saw your degree taking you, you are doing something you love and helping other people while doing it. It’s wonderful,” he praises. “I wish I were more like you because I never found something I was passionate about. I just followed the money trail,” he says ruefully.
I look at him languidly.
“But that’s okay. Someone’s got to pay the bills, and the repo business worked out for you, whereas yoga doesn’t really. I mean, I’m doing okay right now, but just barely.”
Justin strokes my cheek.
“Yeah, but money is money. It doesn’t care where it comes from or where it goes. I wish I dreamed more.”
I sit up, propping myself up on one elbow.
“What do you mean?”
Justin’s handsome face is contemplative, his expression a bit rueful.
“Things were tough when I was young, so going into the repo business seemed like the most sensible thing to do because it’s lucrative. Also, I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but I’m not the only one in my family in this industry.”
“Yes, your cousin Paul, right? He works with you?”
Justin grins and squeezes my hand.
“It’s not just Paulie. It’s also my other cousin and an uncle too. Paulie’s just the most colorful of the bunch, so he comes up in conversation a lot,” my man snorts.
I smile.
“Well, that can be good. You have back-up then. No one in my family is in yoga. In fact, I’m an only child and my parents are incredibly out of shape, so if I needed a sub, Cathy and Paul definitely couldn’t help.” I laugh lovingly at the thought of the pudgy suburban couple doing yoga, but then I catch myself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I’m judging by appearances again. Who knows? Maybe my parents can do sun salutations.”
