Page 103 of Thursdays at Orange Blossom House
‘Not once, in all the time I have occupied a mat next to you – or been in your car, for that matter – have I known you to be so … so … scattered.’ Grace Maud is used to Patricia being steady, measured – reliable. The person almost levitating out of her skin during the class was not the Patricia she knows at all. ‘Are your parents all right? Has something happened at work?’
‘Well— ’ Patricia stops and frowns. ‘Yes. I guess it has.’
Grace Maud sighs. ‘Obfuscating.’
‘All right!’ Patricia makes a noise as if she’s irritated – also not something she usually does. ‘Dennis – I’ve mentioned Dennis …’
‘Indeed you have.’
‘He asked me to go to India with him.’
She turns as if she’s going to walk away and Grace Maud grabs her arm.
‘I don’t know what possessed you to think you could simply get away with that declaration without further explanation,’ Grace Maud says, digging in her fingers a little and arching an eyebrow.
She relaxes her grip when she sees Patricia’s eyes: wide and full of uncertainty. Patricia, who always likes to seem in control, even though Grace Maud knows – as only a person who has been alive as long as she has can know – that control is an illusion, always. The only thing that can be controlled is the time we wake up each day; after that, every minute is at the whim of the fates. We just tell ourselves stories about how that’s not the case so that life seems vaguely manageable.
‘My dear,’ Grace Maud says, moving her arm to take in Patricia’s shoulders as Dorothy takes Patricia’s other hand, ‘whatever is going on?’
‘Bloody yoga!’ Patricia says with a ragged exhalation, wiping her eyes with the back of her free hand. ‘Why do I cry in these classes more times than not?’
‘Because it’s a release,’ says Dorothy, ‘like Sandrine says. We don’t get to release things anywhere else, do we?’
‘I like to kick the occasional tree,’ Grace Maud says, thinking of one particularly ugly palm on the nature strip outside her house.
She is rewarded with a muffled laugh from Patricia.
The other students are starting to walk slowly from the room and Grace Maud thinks that they should really move along too, so Sandrine can have her house back. But this isn’t the right moment to rush anything. Patricia is vulnerable in a way that Grace Maud knows should be supported. The younger woman holds herself together – for her work, for her family – but she is not made of steel, and Grace Maud doesn’t want her to think that she should be. So she won’t move her out of this room. Sandrine can wait.
‘I think I told you that Dennis is leaving his job,’ Patricia says. ‘At the end of this year. He’s going to India for a while. He doesn’t know how long.’ She looks at Grace Maud and Dorothy in turn. ‘He showed up on the beach and said he wants me to go with him.’
‘That’s amazing!’ Dorothy almost squeals.
‘Is it?’ Patricia’s face crumples.
‘You like him! And he’s asked you to travel with him? That’s incredible!’
Grace Maud watches Patricia’s face as a range of emotions cross it: confusion, joy, concern.
‘He’s too young for me,’ Patricia says. ‘It could never work.’
‘Oh, that again. Well, if you’re going to be defeated before you start,’ says Grace Maud, seeing Patricia’s fear and wanting to help her push past it.
‘That’s not it!’ Patricia says heatedly.
‘Ladies,’ Sandrine says as she walks up to them, ‘you seem to be having a little disagreement for the first time ev-errr. What is happening? I cannot have this discord with my favourite students!’
‘Favourite?’ Dorothy says.
‘Of course. You are here regularly. You pay attention. You progress. This is the dream for a teacher.’ Sandrine pats her cheek. ‘And you are sweet, Doro-tee.’
She turns towards Patricia and puts a hand on her hip. ‘Now – what is this all about?’
‘Nothing,’ Patricia says.
‘So convincing, I do not think.’ Sandrine raises an eyebrow in Grace Maud’s direction.
‘Patricia has a beau,’ Grace Maud says.
