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positive, radiant energy, her bright blue eyes looking like they might just jump out of her face.
"It was really great," Mara agreed reluctantly. She wasn't a fan of trendy religions, but given that Buddhism had been around for thousands of years, she supposed it wasn't exactly trendy.
"It just makes me want to go out there and change the world . . . starting with myself," Tinker said quietly. "You know what I mean?"
"I guess." Mara nodded, not quite sure if she felt that heroic but unwillingly charmed by Tinker's exuberance. It seemed Tinker had joined their group as they moved up the line, and as they made their way toward the exit, the silence between them became slightly awkward. "So, um . . . what would you change?" Mara asked, not sure if the question was too personal but curious to find out what the beyond-perfect Tinker might say.
"Well. . . ," Tinker began, "I know this is so ridiculously shallow, but I've gained, like, five pounds because Ryan insists on grilling everything with butter, and I totally don't fit in any of my clothes anymore." Tinker blushed furiously as she fiddled with her prayer beads, clearly feeling as self-conscious as Mara had the other day in her tiny tanga. "And it's not just about appearance, it's that I've always been such an athletic person, and I sort of hate not recognizing myself, if that makes sense."
Huh. Mara cast a sideways glance at Tinker's moving form. She certainly looked as slim as always. But then again, Mara didn't notice those things too much. Maybe Tinker wasn't completely perfect after all.
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"Oh! Is that one of your kids? He's climbed up on the stage," Tinker cried worriedly, interrupting Mara's thoughts.
Mara whipped her head around and spotted Wyatt climbing up onto the stage, attempting to get to the chair the Dalai Lama had sat in. "Wyatt! Get down from there!" Mara ordered, nervous about accident-prone Wyatt falling off the stage and getting seriously hurt. She'd been so distracted by Tinker she hadn't been giving the kids her full attention.
"Don't worry, I've got him," Tinker said, making her way to the stage in a few sprightly steps. She wrapped Wyatt in a big hug as she plucked him off the stage, and he seemed to be quite pleased with his rescuer. "They're a lot of work, aren't they?" She sighed sympathetically, ushering the five-year-old toward his nanny. "I used to babysit my cousins, but there were only two of them--I don't know how you do it!"
Mara thanked her for her help and did a quick head count to make sure all the Finnemores were indeed alive and with all their limbs intact. Wyatt was squirming in her arms, Violet was asking a monk if women could join the monastery, the twins were debating Tibetan versus Japanese Buddhism behind her, and the baby was gurgling happily in his stroller.
"So when did you become Buddhist?" Tinker asked, once they finally reached the front of the auditorium.
"I'm not," Mara explained. "But the kids are."
"Well, it's nice that you're so open to it."
"Yeah, I guess." Mara shrugged.
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Tinker played with her beads as they shuffled forward. "Actually, Mara, I'm glad I bumped into you." Her smile faltered a bit and she looked slightly nervous. "I've been wanting to tell you something, but it's sort of a weird thing to say and I wasn't sure how to bring it up. ..."
"Oh?" Mara pretended to fiddle with the baby's stroller, hoping her burning curiosity wasn't completely obvious.
"I just want you to know that nothing ever happened between Ryan and me when you guys were together," Tinker said earnestly, still playing anxiously with her prayer beads. "It's an awkward thing to talk about, but I just . . . wanted you to know that. We were always just friends. We didn't even get together till the spring semester."
"You don't have to tell me anything--it's none of my business," Mara said bluntly.
"Oh, I know, but I know what I would think if I was in your place, and I just wanted to make sure there wasn't that kind of tension between us," Tinker explained, looking worried. She placed a light hand on Mara's arm.
"Okay. Thanks." Mara nodded. That really was nice of Tinker.
"We should all hang out sometime," Tinker suggested. "I'll call you."
"Sure." Mara had never really liked Tinker, but all her stubborn animosity was starting to fade. It was just too hard to hate someone who was so darn nice. Especially after the Dalai Lama's speech. Could it be that the road to inner peace began with making peace with your ex's new girlfriend?
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A PICTURE'S WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS
ELIZA RUSHED ACROSS THE PATIO OUTSIDE JLX BISTRO, tottering on her heels as she balanced two large garment bags and a rolling suitcase. "There's my girl," Jeremy said to the maitre d' as he spotted her. He smiled tightly. "Better late than never."
"I'm sooo sorry." Eliza was slightly out of breath as she made her way into the restaurant. "The shoot ran longer than we thought. Did they give away our table?" she asked worriedly, craning her neck and peering into the restaurant's depths as if she might be able to spot the evil table stealers themselves. She handed over her baggage to the hostess.
"No, madame, right this way," the Frenchman said curtly, collecting two leather-bound menus and leading the couple briskly through the restaurant.
