The Fourteen Day Soul Detox, Volume Two (4 page)

“Yeah, I know, ambitious,”
I said.

She folded the list and handed it back
to me. “I feel like no matter how I respond to that, I’m
probably going to get in trouble, so all I’ll say is that if
you need any help, Peter and I would be happy to help you.”

“Thanks, Amy. Where is Peter
anyway?”

“Working. He’s meeting us
at the theater. I took a car over here; I wanted to talk first, just
us.”

“Yeah. How’s everything
going with you two, anyhow?”

She smiled. “Fine, we’re
great. Yeah, everything is great.”

“Everything?” I asked,
meeting her gaze.

“Yeah,” she said, looking
away, but she looked back at me. “Well, not everything, I
guess. You know how we’ve been trying for almost a year now?”

“Yeah,” I said.

She swallowed. “Well, Peter is
wondering if maybe we should get some tests done. He thinks I might
be infertile.” Her voice was controlled, but I could hear the
suppressed tears.

“Are both of you getting tests
done?”

“Mostly me,” she said.

“Well, that’s bull.”

She shook her head. “Not really.
I’m twenty-seven, and I’ve never even had a pregnancy
scare.”

“Yeah, but weren’t you on
birth control until last year? And you’re religious about shit
like that. I had pregnancy scares because I was constantly messing up
my birth control.”

“I just always pictured myself as
being a mother. I was going to get my MBA, work for two years, and
then have two children. I cleared it with my work. We renovated the
second office into a nursery.”

“Now who’s being
self-defeating? In the words of the wise Amy, ‘you’re
twenty-seven not eighty-seven,’ go have lots of babies. And if
it doesn’t work for you biologically, there’s always
adoption. You always said you wanted to, and you and Peter are, like,
the ideal candidates.”

She closed her eyes. “Peter and I
talked about it, but we decided not to.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “You
both decided not to?”

“Just let it drop,” Amy
said.

“Alright, if you want me to,”
I said.

“She’s so good, I was never
that good,” Amy said, staring off toward where Sarah was
rehearsing her beam routine. She flipped on the beam, doing a slight
balance check.

“That was a great landing. She
needs to work on her dismounts. I think that’s what they’re
working up to today,” I said.

“Aren’t you afraid she’s
going to get hurt?”

“Every moment of my life. But if
I try to stop her, she’ll just be more determined to do it.
And, I don’t want to teach her that she’s not enough. The
world is already so determined to do that to her,” I said
softly.

Amy took my hand, giving it a squeeze.
“You’re a good mom.”

“Thanks. I hope so.”

We watched the rest of Sarah’s
lesson in silence. Heidi had Sarah practicing her dismount for the
rest of the session, though they only actually did the dismount three
times.

After they finished practicing, they
stayed on the mat. Heidi spoke to Sarah for a long time and claimed
Sarah’s undivided attention. Sarah nodded once, and then they
both stood and walked toward me. After putting on her clothes, Sarah
made a beeline for us, climbing directly into Amy’s lap.

“Hey, adorable,” Amy said.

“I thought I saw you coming in,
Amy,” Heidi called over, a wide smile on her face.

“Hey there, Ms. Heidi, how are
you?”

“I am doing just fine, just fine,
thank you for asking. You look very nice. How is your job in
advertising?”

“Marketing,” Amy corrected.
“Fantastic.”

“And how is that handsome husband
of yours?”

“Wonderful, he couldn’t be
better to me. We’re very happy,” Amy said, a smile fixed
securely on her face.

“Well, that is good to hear.
Unfortunately, ladies, as much as I’d love to visit with you, I
have a class coming in at three I have to set up for. I’ll see
you two next Wednesday,” she said, pointing at me and Sarah.

“Thank you so much, Heidi,”
I said.

“It’s my pleasure,”
she replied with a wave as she turned around and headed back for the
mats.

As we walked out of the gym, all three
of us connected by our held hands, I turned to Amy. “Oh, I
forgot to mention, I was invited to this barbeque thing this evening.
You and Peter were included in the invite too, but I understand if
you’d rather do dinner just us.”

“Probably, but I’ll text
him,” she said as she pulled her phone from her purse with her
free hand. “Whose barbeque is it?”

“A guy named Patrick, his
daughter Kay is in Sarah’s—”

“Not Patrick Kelly?”

“You know him?”

Amy laughed. “Yes, what a
coincidence. He’s Peter’s friend, they play tennis and
golf at the club.”

“Crazy. We’re kind of
becoming friends,” I said, shrugging.

“Which kind of friends?”
she asked, her lips twitching with what I guessed was a suppressed
smile.

“The kind that go to barbeques.
Don’t make too much of it,” I told her, as I clicked the
beeper for my car.

“So he asked you out?” she
said.

I gave her a warning glare as I helped
Sarah into her seat and buckled her in. “Nap if you need to,
angel.” She curled up, eyelids heavy.

When I straightened, I saw Amy’s
shoulders bobbing up and down as she laughed under her breath.

“It’s just so funny,”
she said.

“Why’s that funny, Amy?”
I asked, rolling my eyes.

Amy got into the passenger seat, still
looking all too amused. “It’s just that he’s
something of a celebrity at the club. He’s from an
extremely
wealthy family and I guess he practically grew up there. He’s
the best tennis and golf player there, by far, and he’s friends
with everyone. His wife was pretty much shunned when she left him for
her boss.”

“I don’t get why any of
that is funny,” I said, starting the car.

“Because the women there throw
themselves at him left and right—even the married ones—right
in front of his daughter. It’s so bad; it’s something of
a joke between me and Peter. Especially since Patrick doesn’t
give any of those women the time of day. He’s always nice but
dismissive. Then he goes and asks out my sister, a coffee-shop owning
bartender who hates rich people.”

“I don’t hate rich people.
Half the people I love are rich. Everyone in this city is freaking
rich,” I said.

“I’m not talking about our
kind of rich,” she said.

“What other kind of rich is
there?”

“Trust me, there is a whole other
world of rich. So, I’m taking an educated guess here and going
to say you turned Patrick down, didn’t you?” she said.

I didn’t answer her, which just
made her snicker some more. Finally, I said, “I like him; we’re
going to try out being friends. It’s funny that you described
him like that, though. He just seemed so… lonely to me. But I
guess he’s surrounded by friends.”

“You can be surrounded by friends
and still be lonely,” Amy said. She then turned a too-bright
smile on me. “So is he the ‘Hunky Dad’ you’re
going on a date with from your list?”

“I might have to amend that one.
I think I changed my mind.”

“Please, no,” she begged.
“Give him a chance. He’s sweet, not stuck up or
pretentious. He’s one of the good ones.”

“Uh huh. You know, you’re
one to talk about me hating rich people; I thought you despised that
country club. I thought all those women referred to you as ‘Peter’s
Mexican wife’ even though you told them you were
Cuban-American?”

She waved a hand dismissively through
the air. “Not everyone there is like that. And, networking with
those people is really important for both my and Peter’s
careers.”

“I get how it’s good for
Peter, but how is it important for
your
career?”

“In a lot of ways. And Peter’s
career is very important to me, too. He’ll be the main provider
when we eventually have kids.”

“Alright, but I hope you don’t
let those people walk all over you.”

“I don’t,” she
snapped before fixing her attention on her phone in her lap, her
fingers flying across her screen as she typed out a text message. A
minute later, she said, “Peter would love to go to Patrick’s
barbeque.” She looked away.

“Awesome, then we’ll go. I
do like Patrick, and Kay is adorable.”

“Yes, she sure is,” she
said, though her mind seemed to be elsewhere.

“Park here,” Amy said,
pointing to a spot in the parking lot in front of the movie theater.

“I think I can get a closer one,”
I said, scanning the lot.

“If you spend any more time
circling the lot, we’re going to be late,” she said,
tapping my dashboard clock.

“Amy, we have ten minutes—”

“Which will be barely enough time
to get snacks.”

“—and there are always
fifteen minutes of previews on these kids’ movies,” I
continued.

“If you’re going to miss
this spot, drop me off in front so I can go get the tickets,”
she said.

“It’s not going to sell
out,” I grumbled as I took the spot she indicated.

“How can you be so sure? It’s
a Sunday afternoon—prime kids’ movie time,” she
said, opening her car door.

“I want popcorn,” Sarah’s
voice bubbled from the back seat.

“You’re awake,” I
said, smiling into the rearview mirror. “Last time I looked
back you were fast asleep.”

“I want popcorn
and
candy,” Sarah said as she unbuckled her seat belt.

“You do, do you?” I said.

“I’m going to run ahead and
get us tickets,” Amy said, having already exited the car.

“Do what you have to, Amy,”
I grumbled.

“Unless you’re getting out
now because then I’ll wait,” she said.

Grabbing my purse, I exited my car and
walked around to open Sarah’s door. Sarah bounced out of the
car, beaming.

“You woke up happy, angel,”
I said as I closed the door behind her. When I turned, I found that
Amy and Sarah were already three cars away, hurrying hand in hand
toward the movie theater.

I followed them at a normal pace. By
the time I reached the ticket counter, Sarah and Amy were next in
line.

“This one is on me.” Amy
pulled out her wallet to purchase the tickets.

When she walked out of the line,
tickets in hand, I asked her, “Shouldn’t we wait out here
for Peter?”

“He’s already inside,
saving us seats.”

“Cool.”

There was almost no line for the
concessions, and Sarah bounced on the balls of her feet as we stepped
up to the counter.

“Can I help you?” The
pretty blonde teenage girl behind the counter asked with an air of
impatience. Music buzzed out of the earbud in one of her ears. When
she turned, the earbud that wasn’t in her ear swung around her
cash register.

“I really hope that you’re
going to tuck away those headphones before you serve us,” Amy
said.

The cashier gave us a cold smile, and
pulled the headphones from her ears, shoving them into her back
pocket. “What can I get for you?” she asked with a small
roll of her eyes.

“A large popcorn with no butter,
please, and…” I looked down to Sarah who was holding
four bags of candy. “Only one, Sarah.”

“Two,” she said.

“One. Pick now or no candy,”
I said, turning back to the girl as she placed the large popcorn in
front of me. The popcorn glistened up at me as it settled.

I looked back at the girl who was
watching me expectantly. “Sorry, I ordered no butter.”

“No butter. No butter. No
butter,” whispered Sarah under her breath.

“You said butter,” the girl
said, practically glaring at me.

“She said no butter, you just
didn’t hear her because you had headphones in,” Amy said
exasperated.

“Actually, no, I didn’t. I
put my headphones in my pocket before you even ordered,” the
girl said.

“It’s fine.” I put my
hand out toward Amy. “My daughter can’t have butter.”

“It’s not actually butter,
it’s like vegan,” she said.

I took a deep breath to steady myself.
“It’s the texture on her hands, it freaks her out. She
can’t do the butter; I ordered no butter, please.”

“No butter. No butter,”
Sarah said.

“I’m going to go get my
manager,” the girl said.

“This chick is going to make us
miss our entire movie,” Amy grumbled, pulling her phone out to
text something into it. “It hasn’t started yet,”
she said after a minute.

Another tall, middle-aged woman walked
up, her salt-and-pepper hair in a high bun. A big smile spread across
her face as she stopped in front of us.

“Samantha tells
me you have some questions about our butter?” she said in
greeting.

“No, I ordered a popcorn with no
butter and got one with butter and—”

“No butter!” Sarah
screamed, she grabbed for the popcorn but I intercepted her. I picked
her up, holding her to me as she made loud distressed sounds and
kicked out in my arms.

“My niece has special needs. We
ordered popcorn with no butter for her. Please go get it,” Amy
said to the woman.

I grabbed out my wallet and threw it on
the counter. “I’m going to take Sarah over there,”
I said as I walked out of the crowd.

“It’s okay, angel, aunt Amy
is getting it,” I whispered over and over again, as she
continued to thrash and whimper in arms. People cleared from our
path, gawking as they passed.

I sat Sarah on my lap, giving her
squeezes until she calmed down. “Do you want to do gymnast
breaths?”

“One,” she said, breathing
in shallowly.

“Two,” I said, breathing in
deeply and gesturing with a hand for her to do the same.

As we finished breathing to ten, Amy
walked up with two big tubs of popcorn and stopped a few feet away.
“You still want to go see this?” she asked as we stood.