“Oh, I’m sure the police already know about Maddie.”
“Then what’s the point of contacting her?”
Elysia looked vague. “This must be a distressing time for her. As her friend-”
“You don’t even know for sure that she’s Dicky’s Medea.”
“Trust me, pumpkin. I’ve one of my hunches on this.”
One of her hunches? Next she was going to be referring to her little gray cells and twirling her imaginary mustache. A.J. managed to swallow several unproductive comments without choking, and said, “Mother, my relationship with Jake is complicated enough without this.”
“I didn’t say you had to be involved,” Elysia said tartly. “I said I would contact my old friend and offer my condolences.”
A.J.’s back was hurting. She was tired and she was disappointed that Jake had not called her-yes, despite the way they had left things the evening before. She missed him. A lot.
“If you think that’s a wise idea,” she managed to say evenly. She was proud of herself for not saying what she thought of the idea.
“Are you going to be all right?”
A.J. nodded. “I can manage. The shot helped.” It would probably have helped a lot more if she hadn’t tried diving out a window, but she managed to bite that comment back, too. Her mother hadn’t kidnapped her; A.J. had been a willing-if not enthusiastic-party to the insanity.
Elysia patted her cheek sharply. “I’ll call you in the morning, lovie. Don’t worry about anything.” And she was gone in a waft of mingled cigarette and Opium scent. The Land Rover roared into life in the front yard and then silence fell.
A.J. fixed dinner for herself and Monster. “It’s just you and me tonight, big boy,” she said.
Monster wagged his tail.
After dinner A.J. sat down with her aunt’s manuscript.
What would Diantha have thought about the choices A.J. had met since inheriting Sacred Balance and the new life that had come with it?
Safe to say many of her choices would not have been her aunt’s.
Life is loss. If we allow ourselves to care, to love, we must accept the pain that inevitably follows. Nothing lasts forever however much we wish otherwise. Yoga teaches us to concentrate on the here and now, on living within the moment. We focus on each breath we draw, and as we focus we become present and grounded in our bodies. Breath is the bridge between what is now and what is not. Grief is part of what is not, and when we are truly living in the moment we are releasing our grief and concentrating only what is now.
A.J. undressed and washed, climbing into the bed that had once been her aunt’s. She listened to the sounds of the house settling down for the night, the crickets outside the window, the owl in the peach tree out back inquiring after his supper.
She wondered what Jake was doing.
Nine
The parking lot was full and classes were in session by the time A.J. arrived at Sacred Balance on Thursday morning. It appeared to be business as usual at the studio. She was glad of that, of course, but there was a tiny insecure part of her that wished things weren’t running quite so smoothly without her.
She was moving slowly, but she was moving, and that was the good news. The bad news was there was no possible way she was going to be able to conduct her classes. That morning’s attempt at Sun Salutation had made that much clear.
In a spirit of optimism A.J. had unfolded her yoga mat in the front room with its picture window view of the sun-flushed meadow. It was still a little too chilly these spring mornings to use the back patio as she did in the summer. A.J. sat down on her mat, breathing quietly.
Soft inhalations.
Soft exhalations.
She gathered herself to rise, and her back immediately spasmed. It was all A.J. could do not to cry. Why was this happening to her?
She struggled with her emotions for a few seconds and then was forced to admit that walking up the long staircase at Yoga Meridian had probably not been a good idea, and diving out the window of Dicky Masrai’s apartment had probably been an even worse one.
Once again she was fighting the very tenets of yoga by trying to force her body to do as she wished rather than what was sensible.
Accordingly she arrived at the studio in a somewhat chastened frame of mind.
“Howdy there, stranger!” Emma greeted her from behind the front desk when A.J. pushed through the glass doors. “We weren’t expecting you.”
Emma was a short, slender, sixty-something black woman. Originally, concerned that Emma would not have the necessary energy or attitude for manning the front desk in a yoga studio, A.J. had been a little hesitant to hire her. It had turned out to be one of the best decisions she’d made. She was especially conscious of this as she remembered her visit to Yoga Meridian where every instructor and employee seemed to be under thirty and genetically airbrushed.
“I thought I’d try to catch up on some paperwork. I’m not really here,” A.J. replied.
“Very metaphysical,” Emma said. “Do I hold your calls?”
“No. Put them through.”
There were not many calls, however, and A.J. was able to drink her tea and go through her e-mail in relative peace.
The harmonious sounds of cheerful voices and laughter in the main lobby informed her when the first sessions of the morning ended. She glanced up as someone-Lily-tapped on her door.
Ignoring that inward sinking feeling, A.J. smiled. “Come in,” she invited. “How are things going?”
“Smoothly. Never better, as a matter of fact,” Lily said with her usual tact. Belatedly, she asked, “How’s your back?”
“It’s getting there.”
Lily’s dark eyes appraised A.J. shrewdly. “I’m a little surprised to see you here, frankly. Are you sure this is a wise decision?”
“I won’t be able to teach my courses, obviously, but there’s no reason for me not to catch up on the administrative side of things.”
Lily nodded, a little frown between her black eyebrows.
“Is there a problem?” A.J. asked, knowing it was a tactical mistake even as the words left her lips.
Lily drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Since you’ve brought it up, yes,” she said at last. “Don’t you think it’s a little absurd for someone with a bad back to be running a yoga studio? You’re not exactly a great advertisement for us.”
A.J. stared at the other woman in disbelief. “‘Absurd’?”
Lily inclined her head.
“First of all, my back is much better these days, thanks to yoga, which should be some of the best advertisement around. Secondly, there’s a lot more to the Sacred Balance philosophy than physical fitness.”
“But that’s my point,” Lily said in the patient tone of one instructing a not-too-bright student. “Diantha left an entire business empire. I don’t see why you feel it’s necessary for you to focus the majority of your attention on the studio when there are so many other divisions that could keep you entertained.”
“Keep me entertained?”
Lily had the grace to look chagrined. “Maybe I didn’t put that as diplomatically as I could, but we both know that the reality is-thanks to your inheritance-unlike the rest of us, you no longer have to work. So doesn’t it make more sense for you to concentrate on some aspect of Diantha’s empire that you’re better suited for? Your background is marketing. Wouldn’t it be better for all concerned if you used those skills to develop and market our sportswear and other merchandise lines-or the plans for organic foods? Those things have all been completely neglected since Di’s passing.”
“It was Aunt Di’s wish that we co-manage. That we work together in the studio.”
Lily was shaking her head, repudiating this. “I loved Di, but there’s no question she was eccentric. And leaving you Sacred Balance had to be one of the most eccentric decisions of her life. In fact I firmly believe that if Di had lived-”