way that made me feel attractive. If nothing else, that was what Dennis did for me. He made me feel desirable again.
After the class finished, I gathered my things, wiping the sweat from my face.
“So what do you think, Carolina? Am I going to see you again?” Dennis asked in a seductive voice that nearly took my breath away.
I gave him a flirtatious smile over my shoulder. “You know what? I do believe you will.” I sauntered down the hallway and toward the lobby of the studio.
“Baylee, wait!” he shouted, running up to me as I walked out the door. I stopped and turned to face him, a sly grin crossing his face. “Can I get your phone number?” I raised my eyebrows at him, taken aback by how forward he was. “Just in case something comes up and I can’t make it to class, or if I want to switch to a different one,” he floundered. “That’s all.”
Biting my lower lip, I entered my phone number into his cell and then retreated from him, swaying my hips more than usual. Once I was settled in my car, I pulled the yellowed piece of paper from my mother’s journal and crossed Learn how to do yoga off her list.
C HAPTER N INE
May 2
I saw the Pacific Ocean today. Santa Monica, California, is just as beautiful as I imagined, apart from the homeless people and the fog, which everyone out here calls a “marine layer”. It’s the most peculiar thing I’ve ever seen. Perry and I woke up this morning and looked out the window of our hotel. We could barely see ten feet in front of us, the fog so thick and heavy. After a few hours, the sun was shining brightly. When I mentioned the word “fog” to our concierge at the hotel, he just laughed and knew we were from out of town, as if the country accent didn’t make it obvious. So that’s what I’ve learned today. In California, fog is called a marine layer.
Apparently, so is the smog.
I also had abalone. I had no idea what it was, but they said it was a rare type of seafood. I’m certainly enjoying trying things I never thought I would, but hate the fact it was a death sentence that forced me to finally do all the things I always said I wanted.
I’m starting to feel tired. I don’t know if it’s because of the pregnancy or the cancer. It’s probably a combination of both. I can see how much my decision is hurting Perry, but he’ll have years of new memories to make with our child…the wonderful person we created from a love of pickup trucks, drive-in movies, and dreams of a surf shack on the beach.
A sudden knocking on my door tore me away from my mom’s first impressions of Santa Monica. After getting home from my yoga class, having checked an item off her bucket list, I felt a closeness to her I never did growing up. I had heard stories about her from my uncle, father, and other people who knew her, but it was hard for me to really grasp who she was as a person. Now that I was walking in her footsteps, in a manner of speaking, I felt her. Wanting to strengthen that connection, I spent the past few hours flipping through her journal, reading about her own adventure in checking items off her bucket list. It inspired me and I was already thinking about what I would do next.
Setting the journal on the coffee table, I made my way to the foyer, Sport close on my heels. I opened the door, assuming it was Marcel with more samples for me to approve for his big remodel of my condo.
“Hi,” I said, surprised to see Sebby standing there.
“Hi.” He stared down at me.
“No work today?” I leaned against the doorjamb, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“I’m taking a day off. All work and no play makes Sebby a dull boy,” he joked.
“What are you working on?” I asked, my interest piqued.
“A movie.”
“Oh really, smart ass?”
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, he shrugged. “You may have seen previews for it. Some psychological thriller starring Matt Damon and Jennifer Lawrence.”
I raised my eyebrows.
After the class finished, I gathered my things, wiping the sweat from my face.
“So what do you think, Carolina? Am I going to see you again?” Dennis asked in a seductive voice that nearly took my breath away.
I gave him a flirtatious smile over my shoulder. “You know what? I do believe you will.” I sauntered down the hallway and toward the lobby of the studio.
“Baylee, wait!” he shouted, running up to me as I walked out the door. I stopped and turned to face him, a sly grin crossing his face. “Can I get your phone number?” I raised my eyebrows at him, taken aback by how forward he was. “Just in case something comes up and I can’t make it to class, or if I want to switch to a different one,” he floundered. “That’s all.”
Biting my lower lip, I entered my phone number into his cell and then retreated from him, swaying my hips more than usual. Once I was settled in my car, I pulled the yellowed piece of paper from my mother’s journal and crossed Learn how to do yoga off her list.
C HAPTER N INE
May 2
I saw the Pacific Ocean today. Santa Monica, California, is just as beautiful as I imagined, apart from the homeless people and the fog, which everyone out here calls a “marine layer”. It’s the most peculiar thing I’ve ever seen. Perry and I woke up this morning and looked out the window of our hotel. We could barely see ten feet in front of us, the fog so thick and heavy. After a few hours, the sun was shining brightly. When I mentioned the word “fog” to our concierge at the hotel, he just laughed and knew we were from out of town, as if the country accent didn’t make it obvious. So that’s what I’ve learned today. In California, fog is called a marine layer.
Apparently, so is the smog.
I also had abalone. I had no idea what it was, but they said it was a rare type of seafood. I’m certainly enjoying trying things I never thought I would, but hate the fact it was a death sentence that forced me to finally do all the things I always said I wanted.
I’m starting to feel tired. I don’t know if it’s because of the pregnancy or the cancer. It’s probably a combination of both. I can see how much my decision is hurting Perry, but he’ll have years of new memories to make with our child…the wonderful person we created from a love of pickup trucks, drive-in movies, and dreams of a surf shack on the beach.
A sudden knocking on my door tore me away from my mom’s first impressions of Santa Monica. After getting home from my yoga class, having checked an item off her bucket list, I felt a closeness to her I never did growing up. I had heard stories about her from my uncle, father, and other people who knew her, but it was hard for me to really grasp who she was as a person. Now that I was walking in her footsteps, in a manner of speaking, I felt her. Wanting to strengthen that connection, I spent the past few hours flipping through her journal, reading about her own adventure in checking items off her bucket list. It inspired me and I was already thinking about what I would do next.
Setting the journal on the coffee table, I made my way to the foyer, Sport close on my heels. I opened the door, assuming it was Marcel with more samples for me to approve for his big remodel of my condo.
“Hi,” I said, surprised to see Sebby standing there.
“Hi.” He stared down at me.
“No work today?” I leaned against the doorjamb, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“I’m taking a day off. All work and no play makes Sebby a dull boy,” he joked.
“What are you working on?” I asked, my interest piqued.
“A movie.”
“Oh really, smart ass?”
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, he shrugged. “You may have seen previews for it. Some psychological thriller starring Matt Damon and Jennifer Lawrence.”
I raised my eyebrows.
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