Breathe: A Novel (11 page)

“Thank you!” I called after them. I looked at Jenny and shook my head.

“What?” She could barely suppress her smile.

“Naughty, naughty. I think Alex may be rubbing off on you, dear girl.” Nancy wagged her finger.

“I wonder the same thing. It is necessary, this tight clothing?” asked Luz.

After a good laugh, we dragged ourselves back into the house and sank onto plush upholstery in the glamorous living room all dotted with red. Already, it felt foreign to me.

I can’t believe that this was my home
.

We all looked around.

“What’s next?” asked Jenny.

I shrugged. “Bowl, spoon, toothbrush?”

“Accoutrements of the ascetic.” Nancy leaned forward, eyes ablaze.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“An ascetic is she who abstains from worldly pleasures for the purpose of obtaining spiritual enlightenment. She quests not for material gain, but for the invaluable treasure within.”

I pointed to Jenny. “Hey! That’s just what I was talking about. Remember?”

“The renunciation of beautiful furniture?” she replied.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Well I still think you should snag one of those black lacquered chairs for your desk. Sorry, Luz,” said Jenny.

Luz raised her hand and said, “I see nothing. And now, I go home.” We all stood up. “Nice to meet you.” She waved to Nancy and Jenny. Then I walked her out the door. She brushed the front of her dress, and I held out her handbag. A wave of sadness swelled in my chest. Luz must have felt it too, because she didn’t say anything. She just reached up, pulled me close, and patted my back. “Find what makes you happy,
mija
.”

After Luz left, Jenny and I walked from room to room, carefully removing my dad’s canvases that were to go in the car with me. There were six in all: four contemporary pieces, one landscape, and one portrait. The last was of me at age four; around the time that I used to hide in the closet. I was sitting in the dirt, my hands wrapped gently around a baby chick. There was a look of trust and openness on my face, eyes wide and smiling.

“Tripp thought this was ‘embarrassingly sentimental.’ He made me hang it in the guest bathroom.”

“It’s precious,” said Jenny, taking it from me. “And you don’t have to worry about Tripp’s emotionally stunted self-image anymore. If he wants his life to look like the pages of a glossy magazine, let him. Not your problem.” But wasn’t that what I wanted? It had all amounted to an empty house.

“I have to admit, Jenny, I’m very excited to decorate my own apartment.”

“I have to admit, I am very jealous.”

“There will definitely be pink and orange involved.”

“A la Yoga Garden?”

“Maybe even a periwinkle bathroom. And a gong.”

“In the bathroom?”

We were both cracking up now, punchy with exertion. “But seriously, come over any time you want,” I said.

“Any time you’re not entertaining, you mean.”

I stopped and pondered. Did Galen drink wine? I walked toward the kitchen.

“I better make sure Nancy throws in some stemware.”

My growing obsession with Galen was cause for slight concern, but it was giving me purpose. And I
really
needed a purpose.

***

When we pulled up to my new apartment, I felt a mixture of excitement and dread. I froze, watching Nancy and Jenny pull boxes from the truck, and managed only to direct them with vague suggestions from my post at the tailgate. Jenny was wrestling with a large garbage bag lodged between two boxes; small beads of sweat were sliding down her cheeks, her blown out hair beginning to curl. From her back pocket, she pulled one of Louise’s monogrammed toile napkins and proceeded to mop her forehead.

“Jenny! You took the napkins! She is going to freak out!” I was overcome with paranoia.

“Really, Alex?” She looked at me, then at the truck, then at the chipped stucco of my new apartment building.

“Point taken. Blow your nose in it, would you please.”

“That’s the spirit. Now help me with these boxes! I only like to sweat in Galen’s class, you know.”

I grabbed a box and headed up the stairs. I reached the landing and, for the first time, stepped through the doorway into my new home. It was flooded with afternoon light. Nancy had draped a scarf over an empty box and had placed a vase of blue and green hydrangeas in the center. Three pillows lay on the floor around the makeshift table, one for each of us. And right above it she had hung the painting of me with the chick. I gasped, and Nancy rushed over to me.

“Oh, dear, sweetie. Too much? Did I choose the wrong scarf? You can move the painting once you get some furniture. I just—”

“No, Nancy. It’s amazing.”

I put down my box, gave her a hug, then walked over to sit and look around the room.

“You stay right there. I already put the kettle on.” She disappeared into the small kitchenette.

“I should be serving you tea. You and Jenny are doing all the work.”

“Oh, you’re doing plenty of work, darling,” she assured me.

When she emerged, Nancy carried a tray with three cups and a steaming pot of tea. She placed it gently on the ‘table’ and called for Jenny.

We raised our mugs.

“To Alex,” Nancy proclaimed, “at the onset of her new and glorious life. May you always have spirits to guide you, and men to service you.”

“Woo hoo!” Jenny cried.

“To friends.” I raised my cup again, overwhelmed by the love I felt for these two women.

“And to her!” Jenny jumped up and stood before my childhood portrait. We all raised our cups for one earnest moment, then dissolved into peals of laughter.

***

About an hour later, we’d gotten almost everything out of the truck. The only things left were the bed frame, bookshelf, and a mattress tethered to the roof. We stood looking at Tucker’s vintage wood-paneled Suburban.

“How on earth did we get all that in there?” Nancy furrowed her brow.

“I think it was Luz,” said Jenny. “That woman is strong.”

“Well, now we have no Luz and several flights of stairs. I’d say we’ve got a bit of a problem.” Nancy was about to sit down on the truck bumper when she turned to Jenny and said, “May I use that napkin, dear?” After polishing a spot for each of us, she tossed Louise’s French linen over her shoulder and called for us to join her. Ceremoniously, we sat and watched the traffic for a while.

“What to do?” Jenny finally said to no one in particular.

“Come on, girls. We can do this. Nance, what happened to the infinite powers of estrogen?” I said.

“Sweetheart, I am pooped. If we were the last people on earth, maybe, but we must know when to use our resources. Testosterone, please.”

“Well, Nancy, I’m inclined to agree, but in case you forgot, neither you nor I have any men in our lives at the moment,” I replied.

“Speak for yourself, young lady. I have plenty of men to call upon when necessary,” Nancy said. Jenny and I shrieked.

Jenny was doubled over.

Once I caught my breath, I said, “Well, could you call one of these service men, please?”

Nancy waved her hand, “Oh, they’d be no good at this business.”

“TMI, Nancy!” Jenny said, still trying to regain her composure.

“Okay. How about Tucker, Jenny?” I asked.

“Nope. Tucker’s meeting with potential investors all afternoon. Otherwise he’d have been here.” She looked at her watch. I wondered if Tripp was with him. They often partnered on business ventures, which is how their friendship had developed.

“Shoot, guys. I hate to drag this out for another day. You’ve already given me so much time.”

Suddenly, I remembered that I did know one person in the city. Andy. Could I really call him?

“I do know one person who might be able to help us.”

Jenny stood. “Great! Call him. No offense, but I’m ready for the tub.”

I walked to the cab of the truck. Billy was curled under the steering wheel. He stood up and began wagging his tail wildly.

“One sec and I’ll take you for a walk. You’ve been so patient.” I scratched behind his ear and reached for my purse. I found Andy’s card stuffed in with some old receipts. I grabbed my phone and dialed before I had time to think about it.

“Andy,” he answered.

Surprised that he’d actually picked up, I froze.

“Hello?” he said.

“Andy. It’s Alex,” I tried to sound casual. “Remember me? I dropped my purse? Smelled like seaweed? You gave me your card?”

“Well hey, there, Alex.” I heard commotion in the background. “Sorry, hold on a sec. Ryan, put the Earth Fit on those two rows next to the hydroponics.”

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“Plant life. Wait. I’m just going to step outside. Okay, you’ve got my full attention. So how’s Marin?”

“Fine, I guess. Actually, I don’t know, because I don’t live there anymore. I moved. Well, am moving. Today.” My life was getting more and more difficult to explain. “Can you help me move a bed?” That sounded weird. “I mean, my bed is on a truck, and we can’t get it out. If you’re busy, I’m sure I could just grab someone off the street. It’s just that it’s a bed, and I’d rather, you know, do it with someone I know. Kind of.”

Did I really just say that
?

“Got it,” he laughed. “I can be there in twenty. What’s the address?” Just like that?

“Fourteenth and Valencia. Are you sure you don’t mind? I mean, I can pay you.”

He started laughing again.

“You can’t afford me. See you in a few.”

***

When Andy showed up, Nancy and Jenny could barely contain themselves, which was what I had been afraid of. Every time he turned his back, Jenny would raise her eyebrows and Nancy would air squeeze his butt. I finally told them that their help was no longer needed and that they were free to retire to their Jacuzzis. Neither of them protested. And right before they pulled away from the curb in Tucker’s now-empty truck, Nancy rolled down the window and beckoned me to her with her seductive index finger. I leaned in and she whispered, “Don’t forget to thank him properly.”

With an air kiss, they were gone.

I walked back up the stairs and found Andy putting the bed frame together with Billy parked by his side.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” I said, sitting down on a crate.

After the slightly awkward phone conversation, I’d expected our actual meeting to be even worse. But it wasn’t. I felt surprisingly comfortable with Andy in my house. It was like having my brother there to help me. I felt a small ache at the thought of Jackson living out his life in Montana. I had barely seen him since Olivia was born. Sure, a baby made everyone harder to reach, but I also knew it was more than that: we couldn’t relate to each other’s lives anymore.

“Yeah, this guy’s a keeper.” Andy stopped what he was doing and gave Billy a pat. “We’ve got a lot in common. Can you hand me the hammer?” I walked it over and sat back down.

“Hmmm. As far as I can tell, you’ve got both ears,” I said, and Andy smiled directly at me. My cheeks grew hot. “Can I get you anything? I mean, I only have tea and water.”

“All set, but thanks.” He stood up and tipped the mattress onto the frame. “And you too are now all set.”

“Thanks, Andy. I really appreciate it. Are you sure I can’t do anything to thank you?” I asked.

Seriously, Alex, enough.

He laughed again. “Let’s not go there quite yet.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding, Alex. Another time you can buy me a slice of pizza, but unfortunately I have to head back to work tonight.” His phone rang. “One sec,” he said before answering. “Andy. Yep, on my way. Just something I needed to take care of. Yep, it’ll all get done. Right on. Later.” He turned back to me. “Alex, a pleasure. Enjoy your bed. Keep my card. I have a feeling you might need it again.” He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed, gave Billy another pat, then grabbed his tools before walking out. I sat there for a moment with my eyes on the door.

I looked down at Billy.

“He was cute, right? Do you think he really sells vegetables for a living? Mom and Dad would love him. Haley, maybe not so much.”

Haley. Just a week ago, back in Marin, I mustered the courage to call and tell her that Tripp and I had split, but I couldn’t keep her on the phone long enough to get it out.

“Oh, Alex, hi!” Her voice was so familiar, her enthusiasm as contagious as ever. “KK and I are walking into the Mission House Ball. You should see my dress. Guaranteed, I make tomorrow’s Page Six.” Then she whispered, “You’re not going to believe this. Upton Wallace just walked in. I’m sure you’ve heard about his new place in the Hamptons. Ten thousand square feet. Ridiculous. Oh, here he comes. Gotta go.
Well, hey to you, Upton!
Al, love you. Give Tripp a smooch.” Click.

I’d sworn I was done. Done trying to bond, relate, and share. We lived in different worlds now. But here, in my lonely new apartment, I yearned for our shared history and her sense of adventure. So again, I picked up the phone to call. What would I say? ‘Tripp left me,’ or even worse, ‘I met a hot guy and he helped me move my bed’? It sounded so depressing. And disappointing. She was probably having chocolate soufflé with a Rockefeller somewhere, Karl parked adoringly by her side.

I put my phone back down.

Nothing to do now but yoga.

I couldn’t wait another day; I had to get a job. Gone were the excuses of house hunting and getting settled. I was officially installed in my new “home” which was just slightly larger than our walk-in-closet in Marin. Five days in the city and already I’d had three costly privates with Giovanni. At this rate, Billy and I would be dumpster diving by Halloween. But I was addicted. However hopeless I might have felt before class, I always left feeling better.

I parked myself on the bed with a glass of water, The SF Weekly’s online classifieds, and my cell phone.

Here goes.

So.

What was I good at?

I had absolutely no idea anymore.

Per yoga literature, an occupation should “speak to my heart” or “make my heart speak,” I couldn’t remember which. Having become a master procrastinator, I rummaged through a box of books looking for the exact quote. After flipping through
Tree of Yoga
and
The Power of Intention
, I decided just to focus on the center of my chest as I read the classifieds and see what happened. Right away, I realized that I was actually terrified. Who would hire me? I hadn’t worked in over a year, and my last job screamed ‘glorified ski bum.’

Focus on your heart.

I put my hand on Billy’s head; he looked at me, muzzle resting on his paws. “Okay, Bill. Let’s do this.”

Office Manager: Hudd’s Building and Supply.
I closed my eyes. Nothing. Not even a slight flutter.

Waitress: Dana’s Diner.
Nope.
Bike Courier: Abbott and Shields.
A little pitter-pat. I bookmarked it. I did like to bike, and being outside would be nice. But in the rain and fog?

Personal Assistant: Eccentric, Well-known, artist.
I did not feel qualified to organize anyone else’s life when mine was in such shambles. My heart seemed to agree. I scanned though several more pages.

Auto Mechanic.
Nope.
House Keeper.
I thought of Luz. What a strong, gracious woman . . .

Then I saw it.

Adoption Coordinator: Bay Area Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation.
Flutter. Pound. That was the one! I grabbed my phone, mapped the address, then looked down and thanked my chest, feeling silly but grateful nonetheless. There was something in there guiding me. If I could just quiet down and listen.

“Found one, Billy!” I said, closing the laptop and jumping up to get dressed.

Later, I scavenged around and found an old copy of my resume. It hadn’t been updated since New York. I could run by the library, scan it, and fill in the holes. I felt light and energized, raring to go. Hopefully, this time I wouldn’t get lost in my new neighborhood.

***

It took some time to get my bearings, but eventually I found the library. Once my resume was revived, I spent an hour lost and wandering the streets, determined to find the Animal Rescue that was supposedly only five blocks from my apartment. When I finally saw the sign, I panicked.
Maybe I should just call.

“Whaddya think, Billy?” I stared at an arrow pointing toward the back alley. Wanting to be extra-sure that this was the right place, I pulled out my phone to check. Suddenly, Billy jumped to his feet and pulled me down the alley, stopping right in front of a heavy metal door and straining against his leash. An index card secured with duct tape confirmed that we had found it.

“Yep, Bill, nice work. This is the place.”

My heart rate picked up. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and rang the bell. A thirty-something guy with horn-rimmed glasses and a shirt that said, ‘Please Adopt Me,’ answered the door. I cleared my throat.

“Hi. I’m Alex Greene. I just moved into the neighborhood.”

The man looked down at Billy.
Shoot!
Was it unprofessional to have brought him? I hadn’t even thought of it. But this was an animal rescue center; they must be pet-friendly.

“Simon Schwartz.” He shook my hand. “Welcome to the Mission. Who’s this?” He crouched down.

“This is Billy. I hope it’s alright that I brought him?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here, but who’d want to give up this guy?” Billy was gazing into Simon’s eyes.

Wait. What?

“Oh! Oh, no, I’m not dropping Billy off. He’s mine,” I said. The very idea of losing Billy made my stomach drop.

“Ah. I see. So how can I help you?” Simon stood up.

Did I forget to mention that?

“Sorry. I should have said that first. I’m here to inquire about the Adoption Coordinator position.”

“Oh. Great. Come on in then. People usually use the front door, so you’ll have to excuse the mess.”

The front door. Of course. Welcome back to the world.

“Sorry about that. I’m from Oregon. We tend to use back doors, side doors, barn doors,” I said.

“No problem. That ability to think laterally probably means you’re perfect for the job,” he said with a smile. “We do lots of improvising. Can’t be turned off by a little mess or disorganization around here.”

After an exhausting year of maintaining my home to Louise’s perfectionist standards, the disarray felt warm and welcoming.

“Did you say you’re from Oregon? What brought you here?”

How to answer that one?

“Well,” I stalled. “Who doesn’t love San Francisco?”

“True. There’s no place like it. Okay, why don’t you follow me so we can talk?”

We walked down a hallway to his small, cluttered office. Pictures of adopted animals lined a “Wall of Fame.” Simon gestured to a chair and sat down behind the desk.

“So Alex, are you a collector of very adorable, very unique animals?” Simon asked, looking at Billy’s one ear. “What happened there?”

“He got roughed up on the streets of New York, where I adopted him. You’d never guess he’s so tough, would you?”

“No, he’s a sweetheart,” Simon said, making me glow with pride. He started stacking papers to clear some space on his desk and said, “Alright, let’s switch to interview mode here, because I’m actually a little pressed for time. Our new mobile rescue truck is set to launch today.”

“Wow. That’s exciting. My mother-in-law would be thrilled.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. She believes in keeping animals off the street.” And out of her yard. I couldn’t seem to keep Louise out of my head. “Anyway, congratulations. That’s really exciting,” I said, forcing myself to stay present.

“Yeaaah, it’s been a long process.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, visibly pleased with his accomplishment. “I can’t quite believe it came together. The community really got involved and made it happen.” He sat forward with his hands on the desk. This guy really loved his work; you could tell. “So tell me. Why do you want this job, and why are you perfect for it?”

My first instinct was to try to guess what he wanted to hear. The urge was strong, but instead, I took a deep breath and spoke from my heart. No frills, embellishments, or projections. “Well, I grew up with animals. Dogs, cats, chickens, horses. And the truth is that some of my closest relationships have been with animals; mainly my horse Winger, and sweet Billy, here.” I reached down to put my hand on the top of his head. He looked up at me reassuringly, and my heart filled with warmth. “They love so unconditionally and bring such joy without asking for anything in return. I think being around animals keeps me in touch with who I really am.”

I looked up at Simon, who had put his pencil down and was staring at me.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“There is also the very real fact that I need a job.” I laughed.

“I hear you. Well, it’s a salaried position, and pay is $30-$40 thousand a year, depending on fundraising and donations. Take a look.” He handed me an application.

I looked at the numbers. My apartment was $1,000 a month. James ‘Giovanni’ Boyd was $150 a session, but I’d only need him for another month or two; I was already jumping back from crow—sort of. I could swear off ZEAL and shop only at thrift stores. I could live on beans and rice. I wanted to make it work. This job was perfect for me. I picked up a pen.

College degree?
Yes.

Genuine interest in the safety and well being of animals?
Yes.

Detail-oriented with good communication skills?
Depends on the day. Let’s say yes.

Available for evening/night shifts and weekends?
Sure, why not? I have no life.
I handed the application back to him along with my resume.

“You volunteered at the SPCA in Marin? That’s great. And I see you took some pre-reqs for vet school. What happen with that?”

New York happened. Then Marin. But at that moment I saw that my derailing wasn’t Haley or Tripp’s fault. It was mine. I straightened my spine and said, “I hope to get back to it someday.” It was exhilarating to say out loud.

“You should,” he encouraged. “We have a program for employees to set aside ten percent of each paycheck, tax-free, to put toward tuition.”

I looked at him.

Hire me. Hire me. Hire me.

“Please, Simon, hire me.”

He laughed.

“I like your humility, Alex. Let me check your references, but it looks promising. I should mention that we do have one other strong candidate.”

My shoulders tightened with a surge of fear and self-doubt, but again I breathed and pressed my hands onto the tops of my thighs.

If it’s meant to be, it will be.
Nancy’s literature was keeping me sane. Somewhat.

“Okay, then?” Simon stood, shook my hand and walked us to the front. “I’ll be in touch within the next few days. It was nice meeting you two.”

He opened the door, letting in a cool, sweet-scented breeze.

“You, too. And good luck with the Mobile Rescue Truck.”

I stepped onto the sidewalk and looked up at a cloudless sky.