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 19 th .
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
“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 19 th .
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
Similar Books
