Page 13 of Beauty and the Grease (Midlife Meet Cute #4)

Jenny

I can’t believe I’m still at this yoga retreat I never signed up for. Outside, actually doing yoga. It’s as if something here has a hold on me.

After crying my eyes out to Gina and Ameriel at breakfast, they’d nudged me into the meditation room with calming music, soft mats, and incense.

“It’s a good chance to be alone with your thoughts,” Gina said, as if that’s something anyone wanted. Before I could argue, she hopped off with their group for a walk around the lake.

Which left me alone. With my thoughts. Reluctantly, I allowed my mind to settle on the question Ameriel had asked about my fears.

I feared my business failing because it meant I was a failure.

I’d already failed at so much. My art career, various jobs, marriage.

If I failed at this new identity—business owner—I’d have nothing left. I would be nothing but failure.

Alone with thoughts proved just as bad as expected.

I gathered my things to head out, only the front desk offered me spa services on the house.

They were seriously so nice here. I picked the second cheapest option and detoured to the spa for an hour and a half of bliss.

Left a nice tip. Then I ran into Gina outside the spa, which led to now being at outdoor yoga.

The instructor walks us through breathing exercises. “Find an affirmation for yourself, such as I am worthy, I am whole. Then repeat.”

I can’t think of my own example, so I use hers. It feels like a lie. Am I worthy? Am I whole? Why do I think I’m not if my business fails?

I’m afraid to trust. I spend every waking moment at the shop, believing I am the glue that holds it all together. But what if there’s more glue out there so I’m not spread so thin?

“Did you just say glue?” Gina whispers from her mat.

“Maybe,” I whisper-shout back. So I’m bad at meditation. So what.

I try believing I’m worthy and generally awesome as we stretch our arms over our heads.

Why is this so hard? After my marriage ended, I was no longer a wife.

Imagine looking in a mirror and feeling confused by who’s looking back.

So I put on my artist identity, only selling my paintings didn’t bring me joy.

I had a fine arts degree and no desire to pursue a career in art.

Not only that, I stopped painting altogether. I didn’t plan to, but it happened.

I job hopped. I didn’t want to be defined by a man or by my painting. I climbed the ladder at the dealership, only to be left unsatisfied. Now I have a new identity: business owner. I’ve made it almost a whole year and nothing blew up. If I stop fearing failure, I might be able to hire help.

After yoga ends, a shadow crosses my patch of grass. It’s Chase. “Hey.”

I grab my towel and mat. “Hey.”

“How did today go?”

Teasing myself with this ruse that Chase and I could get our magic back is a joke.

On me. “What is this, Chase? You aren’t interested in having a real conversation.

” I feel empowered and energized by the emotional work I’ve done today.

Gina says to own our energy so here I am owning it.

Chase can go unplug somewhere if he doesn’t like it.

He throws up a hand in surrender. “I’m sorry. You asked questions that got to me and I took it personally. I want to apologize for leaving. I thought through things today and what you said helped me. A lot.”

“It did?”

“Yeah.” The sun showers his face with a gentle glow. He smells like a campfire, sending me back to when we’d pitched a tent on a friend’s private beach one summer. Our clothes smelled like smoke and sand and lake water in a way I’m not sure I could appreciate as much now. “I saved my job.”

Oh. “You saved…this job?” I glance to the golf bros slamming beers from a keg on the putting green.

“I know how you feel, but this is the job I need. I got to the root of it. It’s my kids.

I really thought about it and it’s them.

I’m here not because I’m afraid I can’t provide for them, but because I want to.

This speaker today talked about mindset.

I didn’t catch all of it, but the main point was changing how you look at a situation to frame it in a new way. ”

Chase seems genuinely pumped at this revelation. “Well, that’s great. Congrats.” I find I’m standing taller, possibly from all the stretching. “I had a few breakthroughs myself.”

“Oh yeah? I’d love to hear about it. Can you still join me for dinner?”

The dinner to please his bosses. To show how he fits the company Jell-O mold.

Since I awkwardly haven’t answered, Chase continues. “I know being around my coworkers isn’t your favorite, but it would mean a lot if you joined me tonight.”

I should join him. I told him I would. A thought arises. A very real one. “I don’t have anything to wear.” My outfit for today is thoroughly sweat-soaked from yoga.

“Did I hear there’s a fashion emergency?” Ameriel perks up behind me. “I swear, I wasn’t listening in, but I brought two dresses with me. One’s a maxi dress. It might be too long for you, but my sundress may work. Shoes too.”

I flash Ameriel a warning look. She defies my warning with a haughty, oh are you questioning me? return shot.

“How about you go to dinner with Chase?” I suggest. That’s it! She’s been curious about him.

She maintains her smile. “Chase’s work already expects you since they think you’re a couple. Me showing up would be confusing, don’t you think?”

“The whole thing is confusing,” I grumble before I can think better of it.

Chase watches with obvious interest. “You know what? Never mind about the dinner. You’ve done enough already. I’ll tell everybody you had to go.”

Do I take the out? “I’m actually eager to get back home.” This is mostly true. My emotional morning has me in my feels, so I’m more interested in taking a nap than driving home.

Chase nods and starts off toward the main building, but circles back. “I’ll see you in Derby. For my car.”

I salute him. “Right on.”

Ameriel sucks her teeth beside me. “Why are you saluting him? You should have said yes to dinner.”

“It’s complicated.” I may have dished about my past and my insecurities to my new friends, but I didn’t let on about our annulled marriage.

“That rear view sure isn’t complicated.” Ameriel watches Chase leave. I gasp and she laughs. “Ha! Made you look. But you have to admit, it’s a nice parting shot.”

I’ve stayed long enough. It’s time to go home.

Ameriel zips into a light jacket. “You know, sometimes dinner can be as simple as dinner.”

“With an ex at his company event where I can’t stand anybody but him?”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound great.”

Clinging to Chase won’t help me define my own identity. Nope. Chase is not what I need. Only watching him go, I can’t help thinking I’ve made a mistake.