Tales from the Yoga Studio Read Online Free PDF Page A

of free classes at the studio for teachers. Alan would love that.
    Back on the sidewalk, Lorraine has Birdy’s hand. Birdy is a sweet little girl who seems to be living up to Lorraine’s odd choice of name. Pale, thin, and decidedly sparrowlike. Predictably, the twins call her “Turdy.” Lee’s had no success getting them to stop, but at least they no longer do it to her face. And let’s face it, the kid is . . . unusual?
    â€œGarth and I are calling in all our chits,” Lorraine tells Lee. She’s the only real California blonde Lee is friends with, and, with her Joni Mitchell coloring and cheekbones, Lorraine makes Lee hear strains of “Ladies of the Canyon” every time they meet. “His parents, mine, every relative we can think of. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t care how expensive it is or how I’m supposed to support public education. One of these times it’s not going to be a false alarm.”
    Birdy is staring at Lee with her preternatural gaze, her watery blue eyes too limpid and ethereal for an eight-year-old. She really doesn’t belong at this school. At least Michael is a tough kid. And even if Marcus isn’t, he has his twin around to (hopefully) help him out.
    â€œYou look sad,” Birdy says.
    â€œNo, no, honey,” Lee says. “I’m happy that everything’s okay here, that’s all.”
    Birdy gives Lee one of her eerie silent stares, and Lee knows she understands that she’s being lied to.
    Garth and Lorraine are both artists with a big studio behind their modern house by Shakespeare’s Bridge. They play an active role in the local gallery scene, and Lee’s lost count of the number of openings she’s gone to for them. They’re one of those couples who seem to spend all of their time together and to be constantly holding each other’s hands. She once heard Garth refer to Lorraine as “Mommy” in a way that made Lee a little uneasy.
    She finds Lorraine’s big, muddy canvases incomprehensible and unattractive, which makes them a lot more appealing than Garth’s embarrassingly homoerotic nude self-portraits. They claim to be struggling artists living hand-to-mouth, but it’s hand-to-mouth at a pretty high level. Lee guesses they call in their chits a few times a year.
    â€œDo you have another school in mind?” Lee asks.
    â€œWe’ve got applications in at three,” Lorraine says. “They’re all interested, but we’re waiting to hear.”
    In other words, they’ve been planning this for months, long before any of the recent incidents at the school. This makes Lee resent Lorraine in some inexplicable way and, at the same time, feel like a bad mother for not having investigated the same options herself. But she’s always been one to try to fix a situation instead of running from it.
    She heads to the lot with the boys and searches for the car. As suspected, it isn’t there. She’s tempted to call Alan and start ranting, but it’s always best to just deal on your own, she’s found. Especially now. She’s afraid that showing Alan she needs him will only drive him farther away.
    Michael is poking his brother, and as she walks back to Lorraine, she separates them a few times before they settle down. Lorraine has on a casual, slightly shredded, gauzy skirt and a crisp blue shirt. Lorraine has a look. Maybe Lee needs to acquire one, too.
    â€œI forgot that Alan has the car today,” she says. “It’s been so busy at the studio, I’m more scattered than usual, which is saying something.”
    â€œDo you need a ride?”
    â€œIf it’s not too inconvenient.”
    Lorraine looks at the boys. “We’ll put Birdy up front,” she says. “If you don’t mind riding in back.”
    â€œI insist.”
    They get the kids arranged and strapped in, and Lee sits between the boys to keep them apart.