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Lex
Monroeville has the most adorable little grocery store called The Quick Stop. It looks like a general store straight out of the 60s or 70s and has just about everything you could need. It’s got the old school gas pumps outside of it, a candy section that sells candy for a nickel, and it’s just so quirky. That’s where I find myself tonight, perusing the produce section, when I hear a small child crying. I glance around looking for the source when my eyes land on a small boy, maybe four or five years old, sitting on the floor next to a display of apples, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He releases a hiccupping sob. I glance around, not seeing any other adults nearby.
“Hey buddy,” I say softly as I crouch down in front of him, “are you lost?”
He takes in a shuddering breath, trying to control his sobs. “Y-y-yes, I lost my Ave.” He lets out a little wail at the end and I swear my heart is breaking in half. I lean down and scoop him up without another thought. His little arms circle my neck and he clings to me.
“Well, what do you say I help you look for your Ave?” I brush the tears off his face and turn in a circle, trying to find anyone else that might know where this sweet boy came from. He nods his head, tucking his face into my neck, fidgeting with the buttons on my shirt. I start walking up and down every aisle, I’m rounding the corner into aisle four when I hear a panicked voice start shouting.
“Blake! Blake Austin Scott, what have I told you about wandering off?! I turn my back for one seco…” her voice cuts off as she rounds the corner and sees us making our way down the aisle. It’s Avery, Genevieve’s sister. She’s wearing an apron and looking a lot distraught. “Oh, thank God,” she reaches her arms out for him when she gets close enough and he leaps into them, latching his little arms around her neck and giggling. “Sowwy, Ave. I just wanted an apple, but when I turned around yous was gone!” I stifle a laugh while Avery rolls her eyes.
"Sorry, sometimes he gets away from me, but we almost always find him," he giggles at her joke and she tickles his stomach, standing him up on the ground and shooting me a grateful smile. "Thank you," she grins, glancing in my cart and smirking at me.
"Wine, chocolate, and a trashy romance novel? My kinda woman."
I laugh, not the slightest bit embarrassed. "Just the essentials," I say. "I better get out of here. I have so much grading to do. It's ridiculous." Avery finishes plopping Blake in the shopping cart.
"Ugh," she groans. "Same. Only instead of grading I have homework to help with, a kitchen to clean, and I need to finish sewing Gen's dress for homecoming." She huffs a piece of hair out of her face, looking every bit the frazzled-single-parent-sister-twenty-three-year-old that she is. She smiles shyly at me, "see you around," she says before spinning the cart around and heading the other way.
"See ya…" I trail off as she walks away. I hem and haw for a second but before I can think better of it, I stop her. "Hey, hold up. What do you say about a wine night at my place? You can even bring the kids." A huge grin splits her face.
"I'd say you've got yourself a deal." And just like that, I've found my first real friend in Alabama.
???
3 years ago
I enter the yoga studio. It’s in the warehouse district inside a converted old bottle distribution warehouse. The entrance is discreet, you wouldn’t know it was here unless you were looking for it. The lobby is brightly lit and there is a half-moon hanging from the ceiling next to a sign that says, ‘Half Moon Yoga Studio’. The girl at the front desk has her hair in a top knot, a t-shirt sporting the company's name hanging off one shoulder, and she is jamming to some country music. Hard. So hard she hasn’t even noticed me standing there yet.
“Hi, I’m here for the 2 p.m. hot yoga class,” I say loudly over the music. She screams and the book she is reading flies out of her hand and hits me in the chest.
“Jesus christ, you sneaky ninja,” she laughs and shakes her head, “you scared the bejeezus out of me!” I hand her the book that I’ve recovered from the floor and apologize.
“It’s okay. It’s fine. Everything is a-okay,” she claps her hands together and reaches her hand out to shake mine. “Clarissa Moon, welcome to Half Moon Yoga! Now, I know you’ve never been here before because girl, I would remember you.” She makes her way around the counter and motions for me to follow her. I oblige.
“Uh nope, newbie. I do yoga at home mostly. I’m newer to the area and I heard a group of girls at the nail salon the other day talking about this place and I thought I’d give it a go,” I say, following her into a studio and hanging my purse on the rack by the cubbies that have extra mats and blocks stuffed in them.
“Now, girlfriend this is hot yoga, so we are gonna get hot and we are gonna get sweaty, and then you and I are going to go out for drinks afterwards because you may be new to the area but there are definitely shadows hidden behind those beautiful eyes of yours.” Clarissa announces, heading to the front of the room and cranking the heat up.
We went out for drinks that night and the rest was history. We became best friends. Drinks turned into girls’ nights at her apartment which turned into brunch dates and eventually she offered me a full-time position as a yoga instructor at Half-Moon and I couldn’t turn down the offer. I spent roughly three years connected at the hip to Riss and it’s been hard being apart from her. Which is why when I opened my door to a knock two hours ago and she pounced on me like a spider monkey I cried like a baby.
“I’m still in shock. Say it again,” I laugh, asking her for the third time. She flops down on the couch with her second glass of wine and points her finger at me.
“I’m not repeatin’ myself again, girl, so listen this time. I closed Half-Moon, I packed everything that would fit in my car and sold everything that wouldn’t, and then I drove my happy ass all the way to Alabama because one - I missed you too much and I knew you’d let me crash on your couch,” she pauses for dramatic effect.
“Obviously, now go on.”
“And two, my life is a screamin’ hot mess and I had to get out of Jersey,” she finishes, taking another sip of wine and avoiding eye contact with me.
“That!” I shout, pointing my finger at her. “The hot mess part. That’s the part I want to discuss.”
“Nope. Nuh uh. I’m not ready to visit that topic just yet. I need more wine and food.” She says, putting her now empty glass down on the coffee table and tucking her feet underneath her. Something big had to have happened to make her come down here but I won’t pry. I’m just thrilled that she’s here.
“Alright, Riss. I will let it go. For now.” She rolls her eyes and I laugh. She’s up now and wandering my house, taking everything in. I try to see it from her eyes. A small couch that was here when I moved in, a thrift store dining room table, only a few pictures placed around the small space. Of me and Ron, me and Clarissa, and a few of me and my mom when I was younger.
I clear my throat, “I know it’s not much,” I begin, but that’s all the farther I get. Clarissa turns around and she’s got tears running down her face. Stunned, I get up and pull her into my arms.
“Hey, shhh,” she’s sobbing now. “What’s wrong? Clarissa Layne, you know you can talk to me. We’re best friends,” I console her. She pulls back and swipes the tears from her face.
