Tales from the Yoga Studio Read Online Free PDF

Michael immediately starts swatting at Marcus and she gives him a look.
    â€œSo I’ve been meaning to invite you to an opening Garth’s having in a couple of weeks.” Lorraine names a date as she pulls out of the lot. Lorraine is one of the overly cautious drivers whose hesitation at every turn is meant to be safe but is actually a hazard. “He’s just finished some new work and the gallery is so excited about it, they shifted their schedule around to give him a show. We’d love it if you and Alan could come, if that’s possible?”
    â€œI’m pretty sure that week is open.” Something about the way she asked the question makes Lee a little paranoid that she’s heard rumors about Alan’s move. They’ve told the kids he’s just staying with Benjamin so they can get some work done and they don’t need to talk with anyone about it, but you never know what’s going through their heads. As for the opening, the idea of standing around Garth’s paintings with a group of people talking about his technique while pretending not to see the garish depictions of his dick that are always front and center on his canvases is pretty excruciating. But there are a lot of things Lee likes and admires about the couple, and it might do her and Alan good to appear together in public.
    â€œI’ll send you an e-mail,” Lorraine says. “It’ll have to wait until Thursday. Garth and I have Wednesdays as a techno-free day. No cell phones, no computers, no TV. You guys should really try it. It always ends up being our most romantic day of the week, if you see what I mean.”
    â€œSounds good,” Lee says. She starts playing with her hair nervously, thinking about Alan and the fire drill and the last time she and her husband had a romantic day of the week. (And “most” implies there’s more than one day a week that’s passionate!) She’s always telling her students not to compete and to let go of ego, but sometimes Lorraine makes her feel as if her own life is going off the rails.
    â€œAre you okay, Mom?” Marcus asks. He’s her worrier.
    â€œOh, sweetie,” she says. “Of course I am. I just got a little nervous when I didn’t see you on the sidewalk.”
    Michael starts kicking the back of Birdy’s seat and chanting, “Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream.”
    She reaches over and puts a hand on his thigh. Does Alan take them out for ice cream when he picks them up? She thought they had an agreement about the kids’ diet, but she thought a lot of things that aren’t turning out to be what she imagined.
    â€œWe’ve got some tofu pops in the freezer at home,” she says.
    Even Marcus screams in protest at that suggestion and joins in with his brother’s chanting.
    To hell with it, she thinks. She could use a little indulgence herself. “What do you think, Lorraine? My treat?”
    â€œLet’s go to the new gelato place,” she says. “Birdy’s lactose intolerant and they have sorbet.”
    Michael makes farting noises on the back of his hand, but hopefully not loudly enough for Lorraine to hear.

    T he thing that Katherine likes best about the new Dutch bike she bought online is that it’s pink. It’s true, she paid too much for it—and extra for the designer color—but her massage practice at the studio has really caught on in the past few months, and she figures she owes herself a little pampering, a treat. She ordered it on the second-year anniversary of her sobriety. Why not?
    It’s sturdy, it’s solid, and she feels cool riding it around Silver Lake. Complete strangers sometimes wave at her. It has a great classic design, and she gets off on dressing to match the bike’s style, if not its color—a little more girly and retro-chic, a little Zooey Deschanel. She’s been getting back into sewing and has taken apart and