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“Yes.” I take Rosalie’s hand in mine and drag her down the hall to the door leading into what would normally be a garage. “City living is what it is and cars are kind of expensive to park. Since we’re a trolley stop away from campus, we opted not to have a car and converted the garage into a glorified workout room.”
I open the door to our workout room with a flourish and gesture for Rosalie to enter ahead of me.
“Wow. This is impressive.” Her eyes light up in wonder as she explores our gym.
“Well, city living being what it is, in addition to the car thing, none of us really have the money for a gym membership.” That’s not true. Barbi has more money than she lets on. Carmen and I kind of go with the flow; meaning we don’t ask questions. “So we created our very own gym here.”
Two sides of the gym are covered in mirrors. In the middle of one wall, we inserted one of those mirror workout screens that streams on-demand workouts with the press of a button. Barbi put a treadmill in the corner, but that’s the only machine in the room. There’s a small set of adjustable weights and a yoga hammock I bought a year ago and absolutely love.
“This place is amazing.” Rosalie bounces on the mats covering the floor, testing the cushioning.
“Yeah, you can do pretty much anything you want. With the mirror thingy, there’s tons of workouts to choose from, and if you’re into meditation, or just need to relax…” I pull her toward a hidden treasure the three of us found when renovating the space.
“Townhomes are pretty much a thing in the city. Most have no garages. Those that do, tend to have a single car garage. The owners before us converted the back half of what used to be an unfinished basement into a finished garage space for a second car. We didn’t need that space and had more than enough room for our gym, so we converted this to a secret retreat.” I press a hidden switch and a section of the back wall pops open.
“A hidden room?” Rosalie’s eyes light up. “That’s incredible.”
“A hidden oasis.” I flick on a switch and reveal our pride and joy. Salt lamps bathe the room in a golden glow. There’s a mat to sit on, plush puffy cushions all around. “It’s a yoga meditation room.” I drag my fingers over the sound-cancelling foam on the walls. “The whole place is soundproofed. When you shut the door…” I close the door behind us so Rosalie can get the full impact of the space and stand perfectly still.
“It’s quiet.” Rosalie’s mouth drops and she spins around.
“Isn’t that cool?”
“I’ve never…” She places her hands over her ears, releases them, then does it all over again. “I feel like I can hear my heart beating.”
“I come here to de-stress before exams or after a grueling workout when I need a bit of centering.”
“It’s impressive.”
“Come.” I lead her to the back of the space. “Time for unique feature number two.”
“Lead on.” Rosalie has a bounce to her step that wasn’t there before.
I take that as a good sign. She’s finally starting to relax. After her harrowing adventure in the jungles of Nicaragua, escaping the men Carmen’s father sent after her, I can only imagine what’s going through her mind.
At the back of the modified garage, there’s another door. I take her to it.
“This heads outside into the back courtyard. Did Carmen give you all the codes?”
“You mean to the doors?” Rosalie’s eagerness warms my heart.
“Yeah. 2-3-11. Did she tell you how we came up with that?”
“Each number is for the letter of your names. Barbi is the second letter. Carmen the third. You’re number eleven.”
“Yeah, and Rosalie is the…” I sing the alphabet song in my head and count my fingers. “You are number eighteen. We should change it to 2318.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Rosalie takes a step back, revealing her nervousness and fear about breaking into our tight little group.
“This is your home now, and you’re one of us.” With a bit of jiggling of the lock, I open the storm door leading up into what used to be nothing but weeds. “And this is the oasis.”
Once we come up the stairs, the motion-activated lights turn on and fountains bubble to life. Barbi’s the one with a green thumb, but I’m the one who created the hardscape, built out the waterfalls, and dug out the meandering streams that wander through our postage-stamp sized backyard. A trellis reaches overhead, and string lights bathe the area in soft, golden light.
“Wow, this is incredible. Did you do this?”
“Over the past four years.” It’s my pride and joy. I consider it a bit of fancy in the middle of a city that needs something soft.
“It’s stunning.” Rosalie claps her hands together. “It kind of reminds me a little of this hotel Hayes and I…” Her voice trails off and her brows knit together.
