“No Mitch, this was extra. I was just about to throw it out,” I told him. “I’m so sorry but I have to close early today.”
“Well, if you’re just going to throw it out,” he said, taking the coffee. He gave me a wide grin, showing all his missing teeth. “I’m all cleaned up, you see?” he asked.
My gaze passed over his clean shaven face, recently washed sweatshirt and weather worn jeans. “You look great, Mitch. Are those new clothes?” I asked.
“Yeah. I have a job interview today. Someone set it up for me,” he said, beaming. “It’s at the full service gas station right over there.” He pointed down the street. “If I get a job there, will you and Chris come say hi when I’m at work?”
“I definitely will, and I’ll tell Chris. I’m sure he’ll want to too,” I said.
“It’s through an outreach program so I really think they might actually hire me. They’re supposed to do that, right? Hire people in outreach programs?” he asked.
“Um, I really don’t know about that, sorry,” I said.
“Oh, that’s okay Jamie, that’s okay.”
“I have to do a couple things, so I really need to get back inside, Mitch. Good luck with your interview, I bet you’ll do great.”
“You think so?” he asked.
“Yeah, I really do,” I said.
“Okay, well, you have a great day, Jamie. Next time I see you, I’ll be able to buy anything in your store.”
“Sounds awesome, Mitch. Good luck.” I closed the door and locked it, giving Mitch one more wave before returning to my office.
While the two offers I received fed through my fax machine, I pulled out the judgment lien folder. I leafed through the court documents and the fifteen year pay back deal I’d made with the owner of the lien.
I read under my breath, “This agreement is made between Timepiece Corporate, hereafter referred to as the creditor, and Jamie Scott, hereafter referred to as the debtor.” Sighing, I added the form to the pile feeding into the fax machine.
Next I pulled out some tax and asset forms, detailing the worth of the shop’s equipment. When all the forms had gone through, I sat down on my office chair and pulled out my phone. With shaking fingers, I dialed the number on the offer, pressing the speaker button on my phone after the first ring.
“You’ve reached Nicole Murphy’s office,” a woman’s voice said.
“Hello, is this Harrington’s corporate office?”
“Yes, but this is not the main line, would you like me to transfer you?”
“I’m not sure. My name is Jamie Scott, someone from your company sent me an offer on my coffee shop a week ago. Actually, they sent in two offers, but it’s really hard to read the signature,” I said.
“If it was an offer, it was probably from the company’s broker, but just give me a moment and I’ll check with Ms. Murphy since you were given her direct line.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Crackly classical musical played over the line, sounding suspiciously like Beethoven. A smooth sounding voice came over the line, “Harrington’s Coffee Shops, they’re more than just coffee shops, they’re your home away from home.” Then the crackly Beethoven continued. After another couple seconds of butchered classical music, the sound silenced.
“Hello,” the same woman’s voice said.
“Hi,” I said.
“I’m connecting you through to Nicole. One moment please,” she said.
“You’ve reached Nicole,” a low, feminine voice said.
“Hello, my name is Jamie Scott, I—”
“I know, Clara told me. You’re calling about the offer I sent to you a week ago. This is for the shop downtown, right? The Coral Beach shop?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“And you’re willing to sell?”
Sighing, I said, “I think so. I definitely want to set up a meeting if that’s possible.”
“It is. What time works for you?” she said.
“The best time would be tomorrow at eight, if that’s at all possible?” I said.
“At the shop?” she asked.
“We could, but it’s pretty loud and busy here in the morning,” I said.
“Could you make it to Harrington Corporate offices? We’re about fifteen minutes North?”
“I could make it at eight-fifteen,” I said.
“Could you give me one second, Jamie?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said, and was rewarded with more distorted classical music, this time Mozart.
After about five minutes, the line went silent and Nicole said, “Jamie?”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Eight-fifteen works just fine for us, we’ll see you here. Do you know our address?” she asked.
“Is it eight four three Sea Breeze Way?” I read off the offer form.
“That’s it exactly. Take the elevator to the third floor then come straight back and my receptionist will help you.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then. I’ll have a property lawyer with me, if that’s okay? I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s a judgment lien on the property—”
“We’re aware,” she said.
“Alright, well, he’s going to help me figure out how to transfer. If I do transfer—that is.”
“That should be fine,” she said.
“Oh, good, thank you,” I said.
“See you then,” she said before the line went dead.
Day Three: One-thirty
After calling back Mr. Hamm and telling his assistant about the meeting’s time and place. I walked back into the shop and behind the counter. I pressed the button for the final receipt and as the long tape printed out, I texted Chris.
Me: I might have to come in an hour late tomorrow for a meeting with the company that made the offer. Is that going to be okay?
Almost instantly, my phone rang, Chris’s number flashing on the screen. “I’m so sorry Jamie,” he said in a low, raspy voice that didn’t sound much like him.
“Oh, no, are you okay?”
“I think I’m sick, it just suddenly came on,” he said.
“Oh no, Chris! I’m so sorry,” I said.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it tomorrow,” he said.
“Oh, of course not. Is there anything I can get you?”
“Melissa is at the store now, she left work early,” he said. “I really hope I didn’t get you or any of the customers sick.”
“I feel fine, I’m sure everyone is fine. Just take it easy and call me if you don’t feel better on Wednesday. I’ll figure it out.”
“I feel so guilty,” he said.
“Shut up. I don’t even remember the last sick day you took. You are more than due. Just rest and feel better.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Call me if you need anything,” I said.
“Okay, I will,” he said before hanging up the phone.
After counting the money and totaling up the receipts, I added up the daily till, finding the register to be a dollar and fifteen cents short. After putting the money and receipts into the bank deposit bag, I walked into the back office and slipped the bag into the safe.
On a piece of paper in thickly printed letters I wrote: ‘Store Will Be Closed on April 19th. Sorry for the inconvenience.’ Walking up to the front, I replaced my hastily made sign that was already on the door with the new one.
I finished sweeping and mopping the floors before emptying the coffee carafes and filling them with water so they could soak. When everything was clean, I took two trips to the dumpsters in the back, first with the recycling, then with the trash bags. After locking up the back, I returned behind the counter to grab the gym bag I’d stashed there.
Going into the shop’s bathroom, I changed into yoga pants, a sports bra and a tank top. When I leaned forward to examine my outfit, my hair fell into my face and I inhaled a strong coffee smell.
“Oh my god, I want coffee,” I whispered as I pulled a chunk of hair
to my nose. Reluctantly, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail.
My phone buzzed and I picked it up from where I had set it on the counter.
Susan: You coming to yoga?
Me: Yes, just leaving work now. Text me the directions?
When she did, I typed them into the Maps app on my phone. After gathering all my stuff, I turned off all the lights and locked up the shop on my way out. On the way to the car, I updated The Coffee Stop’s social media pages, announcing that the shop would be closed tomorrow. Even before I had climbed into my car, my alerts dinged with and comments from regulars saying that they’d miss us in the morning, or asking if something was the matter.
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” I mumbled to myself as I took a seat in my car, but left the keys in my lap. I responded to the comments, saying everything was fine and that we would miss them too.
I drove down the main street to the opposite side of downtown, reading the signs above the storefronts until I saw ‘Namaste Yoga Studio’ in big decorative blue letters. I pulled in front of the studio into a metered spot.
Using my credit card, I paid for an hour and a half at the pay kiosk, not really knowing how long a yoga class went for.
The doorbells jingled as I opened the door and was met with a strong lavender scent.
I stepped up behind a woman who was filling out some sort of paperwork.
“Hey.”
I turned to see Susan in neon green stretch pants trying to fight her way off a couch along the wall.
“Beep, beep, beep,” I said, offering her hands.
“You’re not funny. That’d only be funny if I was backing up. So, is this the first time you’ve worn those yoga pants actually to yoga?” she asked as she grabbed my hands.
“Yep,” I grunted under her weight. “Though I think I might be getting enough exercise just helping you stand all the time.”
I turned to head back to the desk the other woman had been standing behind before, but Susan said. “I already did all that for you, just come back with me.” We stepped into a hallway and up a long staircase to the second level.
“I’m glad I’m with you. Can we stand in the back where no one will notice us?” I asked as we walked into a large room.
Long gleaming lines of wood stretched across the studio’s floor, seeming to stretch on forever into the walls of mirrors on three sides of the room. The third side was a long line of windows that looked down on the downtown street.
Before the windows, a young woman with frizzy brown hair sat almost cross-legged, with one foot in front of the other, on a mat. She greeted us with a wide serene smile. “Good afternoon, ladies. Please, go ahead and grab a mat and some blocks and find a nice open place to lay it out.” She gestured across the room to where a pile of rolled up pink mats and purple foam blocks sat side by side.
I glanced at the other women in the room as we passed, my gaze passing over three women before I halted mid-step. I looked from woman to woman.
Quickening my pace, I caught up to Susan just as she pulled a mat from the pile.
I leaned down to her and whispered in a really low voice, “Susan, this is pregnant lady yoga.”
“Yeah?” she said back, not whispering at all.
“I’m not pregnant,” I whispered, glaring at her.
“Yoga is yoga,” she said in a low voice with a shrug. “Anyway, I’m not supposed to go to regular yoga classes.” She grabbed her belly. “You know, because I’m pregnant.”
“I didn’t need you to go; I could have gone by myself.”
“But I wanted to go, I’ve been wanting to do this for months,” she said.
“You have to be kidding me. What if they kick me out?” I asked.
“It’s not a problem,” she said, handing me a yoga mat. “I wrote on your intake form that you’re two months pregnant, if anyone asks, you’re just not showing yet.”
“This was completely premeditated. I’m going to kill you,” I whispered.
“You’ve been saying that for twenty years, yet I survive,” she said “Now, could you grab me some blocks too?”
I glared at her as I grabbed four blocks. We walked to the back of the group, laying out our mats and placing the blocks at the end.
“Welcome friends, my name is Jennifer. Thank you so much for joining this class and being here and present with me.” She grinned around at us. “I’m going to ask you all to sit as I am in siddhasana, or if it’s too hard, go ahead and sit cross-legged. First, I just want us all to get very grounded in our bodies, and our breath. I’m going have you place one hand at your heart, while your other arm crosses over your belly, really embracing your baby.”
Following the rest of the class, I took one arm and wrapped it over my stomach.
“Now close your eyes and really concentrate on the sweet little presence that is growing inside your womb. Some of us know a lot about our babies, whether they’re a boy or girl, what they’re name is going to be, while others of us are just beginning to be introduced.”
I shot a glare at Susan, who was sitting eyes closed with a happy serene smile on her face.
I closed my eyes again as the instructor continued.
“So throughout this yoga session, I want us to let our minds really center on the little one inside us and let our breath extend out.”
We took several guided breaths while the instructor detailed ‘our’ babies’ development in the womb.
“Alright ladies, go ahead and open your eyes.” She blinked around at each one of us. “Hello.”
The ladies around the room chuckled.
I looked over at Susan. When she met my gaze, I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows.
Her shoulders bobbed and she grinned at me before looking back to the front of the studio.
“We’re going to be moving into our poses now, but it’s really important to remember to go at your own pace. Some here are on their thirty-eighth week, while others are on their eighth.” She raised a hand and pointed straight at me.
Several heads turned around to glance back at me.
Susan made a noise that distinctly sounded like laughter.
I made myself wave and grin at the women before they returned their gaze to the front.
“Okay, so let’s pull out our legs a bit and move into our bound angle pose, really feel that stretch. Feel free to bounce gently in your legs. This is a pose that will really help us open up our hips and relieve our lower back pain, in turn, getting ready for when we go into labor.”
Pulling my feet together, I moved into the pose with my knees out to either side of me. We continued to move through poses fluidly, first through different sitting poses, to all fours, and then to standing poses.
After an hour of stretching out muscles I didn’t know I had, and staying in a squat for longer than I would have thought possible, we stood. The entire class raised out arms in a big circle until our hands met in the middle, we then lowered our hands into a praying position and bowed to each other.
“It was lovely spending this time with you ladies. Make sure to drink lots of water.”
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Susan asked, grinning over.
“No, I guess it was pretty nice. And… I’m now the soil cocooning a growing acorn, that’s pretty neat,” I said while rolling up my yoga mat.
“Healthy dirt, you are healthy and dirty,” she said.
I smacked lightly her on the head with my yoga mat. “Go drink water.”
We walked toward the group of big bellied ladies gathering around the yoga mat pile.
“Excuse us!” Susan pretty much yelled, making most of the women glance back and a couple of them shift out of our path.
After we put our equipment away, I turned around and just avoided colliding with a big pregnant belly.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, contorting my body so that I wouldn’t rub bellies with her.
She smiled. “Oh, that’s fine, just trying to put my mat away too,” she said with a thick souther
n accent.
Seeing a break in the ladies, I stepped out of her path.
Her short, straight red hair flopped around her sharp features as she turned back to me. “So you’re only eight weeks?”
“Um—yeah,” I said, trying to back out of the crowd of women without bumping into any of them.
“How are you feeling? Do you have morning sickness?” she asked.
“Yeah, she has it bad. Vomiting all the time,” Susan said, patting me on the arm. “Sometimes in the afternoons too, poor thing.”
When I turned a look on her, Susan just kept her placid expression.
“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. We all had it.” The woman offered her hand. “I’m Savannah.”
“Jamie and Susan,” I said.
“And how many weeks are you, Susan?” Savannah asked. They started talking and Savannah accompanied us all the way to my car. I tuned them out as they discussed their labor plans.
“I ideally want a water birth, though I know sometimes they won’t allow it depending on the circumstances,” Savannah was saying.
“My wife had a water birth with our son,” Susan said.
Immediately, Savannah’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “Wow, that’s beautiful,” she said, her voice a little choked.
“It was beautiful,” Susan said.
“Yeah, it really was,” I agreed, turning to them.
“Well, will you ladies be coming back, do you think?” Savannah asked, her voice cheery and smile verging on manic.
“Probably,” Susan said.
“Well, it was nice to meet you and congratulations on your babies and your—marriage.”
“Oh, that’s not my wife, that’s my sister-in-law,” Susan said, her cheeks fighting a grin.
Savannah’s shoulder’s visibly relaxed. “Oh, well, again, it was nice to meet you. See you later.” She walked away from us up the street.
“She was nice,” Susan said, chuckling.
“Are you really going to come back?” I asked skeptically.
The Fourteen Day Soul Detox, Volume Two Page 9