Page 212 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
Libby nodded, taking in the space as warmth radiated through her body. She hadn’t entered the building since her mother passed. And in over a decade, very little had changed. A gumball machine stood half-empty near the door. The boys used to love that thing and beg their mother for quarters. She smiled, recalling how they used to guess which color they’d receive when they opened the metal lid. The circular check-in desk with three pendant lights hadn’t moved from the center of the lobby, and the pale green walls were just as she recalled.
“Still the same, huh?” Ida commented, glancing over her shoulder, the crystals around her neck clinking as they walked down the hall.
How would Ida know the last time she’d been here?
“Yes, I haven’t been inside this rec center in a long time.”
“And I hear you’ve been in my neck of the woods,” the woman continued, but she didn’t look over her shoulder this time.
Libby followed her into a small yoga studio. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Rickety Rock,” the yogi answered, pinning her with her gaze.
Libby’s jaw dropped. “You’re from Rickety Rock?”
A smile stretched across the woman’s face. “Born and raised. My siblings and I were the first triplets in town.”
“Triplets!” Now she saw the resemblance. “You’re—”
“Ida Askew.”
“Your Bob and Maud’s sister?” she said, amazement coating her words.
“I sure am.”
“That’s quite a coincidence,” Libby answered, shaking her head. “Not only did I sublet your apartment. I also spent most of the summer in your hometown. It’s a lovely place. I spent quite a bit of time with your siblings. They provided us with donkeys and helped train us for the Ass-in-Nine.”
“I heard Doug took a shine to you,” Ida tossed out with a twist to her lips.
How did she know that?
Libby glanced away. “Doug is…”
“Not for you,” Ida supplied, lifting an eyebrow. “You see, Dougie came to Denver to visit me and Henry Peter. He had some extra time before he left for the yoga retreat because a young lady named Libby Lamb had canceled on him.”
Sweet Buddha’s belly!
“Henry Peter?” Libby repeated, then put it together. “Wait, Hash Pants is Doug’s brother, and his name is Henry Peter?”
Ida looked at her as if she’d sprouted rutabagas out of her ears. “Yes, you didn’t think Hash Pants was his real name, did you?”
She shrugged.
Ida released another rolling belly laugh. “We’re a little weird in Rickety Rock, but not weird enough to name a baby Hash Pants.”
“My friend Harper will be so disappointed,” she mused. “Wow, I can’t get over all the coincidences.”
Ida’s expression grew serious. “It’s not a coincidence that you and I have connected, Libby, or should I say reconnected.”
“It’s not?” she asked, not following.
“A swallowtail butterfly in Tibet told me it was time to return. That was the instant the ripple of the intention had begun to play out.”
Libby mustered a smile. There was a lot to unpack with that statement.
“A butterfly told you to come back to Colorado?” she pressed, needing a little clarification.
“A butterfly told me it was time to return to you. It was time for our paths to cross again.”
