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Once we’re done, and she’s still in her final pose, I ask a question I’ve been holding onto since she told me what we were doing for our lesson today.
“Meditation? Is that part of yoga?” Her eyes pop open as if she didn’t realize I was there. She shakes her head as if to clear it before she answers. “Sorry, I was already a little lost. And yes, it’s essential. At least to my practice of yoga. Meditation doesn’t mean just closing your eyes and not thinking. It can also be a time where you spend reinforcing your mind with positive thoughts and things that you want to influence your mood. I’ve actually made up my own meditation mantras. I took the first four stanzas in Kipling’s “If.”
“I read that in high school,” I scan my memory for fragments of the poem that are floating in my memory. “If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim.” I recite the one line I can remember and Lucía looks at me with pleasant surprise.
“You know it? That’s great,” she exclaims and claps her hands together.
“Wow, you’re easily impressed,” I joke.
She slaps me across the arm. “It’s my favorite poem, Reece.” She rolls her eyes toward the top of her head, but this time in a look that says, I’m heaven rather than in
annoyance. “It’s the perfect advice on how to be happy. Don’t give up. Work hard. Stay humble, be honest. For my meditations, I’ve broken it up into stanzas and then use each stanza as I need it.”
“Which one do we need, today?” I ask. She tilts her head to the side, and taps her finger on her lips as she thinks.
“If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
“That’s two stanzas, Vega. You said one,” I say with mock disapproval.
“We need those two today, Carras,” she returns, creasing her forehead to mimic my expression. “We’ve got a lot of negative energy to dispel,” she returns with a smile. “I’ll say the stanza out loud once and then I repeat it slowly, really focusing on the words. I do this for twenty minutes and allow the words to help me focus and shut out the other noise in my head.”
“Okay,” I mumble, letting my skepticism show.
“Look, just try it. Clear your mind, think the stanzas and just be alone with them for twenty minutes. Forget I’m here. Forget you’re here,” she demands before she closes her eyes and starts to say the stanza to herself.
I mimic her. And I allow myself to focus on the words.
“Reece! Reece!” I hear Lucía calling my name, but she sounds so far away. And then I feel a rough shake on my shoulder and I jolt. I look up and Lucía’s kneeling in front of me. Her face scrunched in concern as she scans my face. “Are you okay? I’ve been calling your name for almost a full minute.”
The haze starts to lift, my awareness returns. I’m on her deck. We’re doing yoga. I’m confused by the minutes I appear to have lost. “Did I black out?” I ask her.
“No. You were meditating. Wow. Good job, Reece. I’m so glad you took it seriously.” She smiles as she stands up.
“Yeah, Luc. I got stuck on the words ‘If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same;’ I said those over and over again for twenty minutes.”
“That’s a tough one for us all. It’s hard to not get caught up in success and discouraged by failure. I struggle to remind myself, that they can be as valuable as each other.”
As much as I want to have this philosophical discussion, I also want to get going with my plans for the day.
I grab her waist and pull her down beside me. “Yes, I mean, just look at us. Tragedy has brought us together. It’s all what you do with it.” She smiles, but doesn’t say anything as she stares out at the horizon.
“Listen, can we spend the day together?” I ask her.
She turns to look at me and that smile breaks across her face. It warms me like the sun melting away frost.
“Yes. I’d love that. I’ll let Todd and Dan know I need the day off.”
I’m surprised by how quickly she agrees. I don’t hide my surprise, and she smiles. “That’s an easy ask, Reece. I’d love to spend the day with you.” She strokes my cheek with the pads of her fingers. I lean toward her involuntarily. My hand trails down the side of her face. I’d only have to lean in a little, and if she met me half way, I could have my lips on hers. I want to kiss her and then fuck her so hard that we break shit. I want to spend all day eating her pussy and sucking her nipples while I’m balls deep inside of her.
She leans back. “What are you thinking, Reece?” she asks, eyes wide with alarm.
I grin at the look on her face. “What does it look like I’m thinking about?”
“I don’t know, but you look like you’re about to jump me. And, in a ‘not so friendly’ way,” she says and leans even farther away from me. “You look like you want to eat me alive.”
I laugh, a long, loud burst that catches me by surprise. She is so fucking innocent.
“I am hungry,” I say sliding my hands down her arms and pulling her into me. She pulls away and heads toward the house and says without turning back, “Well, if you’re hungry, I’ve got some of those cinnamon rolls that Jess made in the freezer. Let’s warm them up.” I laugh and follow her into the house. I’ll let her go for now.
