Page 25 of Moms of Mayhem
Every single one was occupied this morning, and I grinned at the sight. Nothing better than a full class of people willingly signing up to suffer quietly while I counted down ten-second holds with a smile.
When I’d pitched Ty on the idea of opening the studio, he’d gone all in with me, but I didn’t think he really understood the vision I had—just blindly supportive the way my big brother always was.
Tell Me Whyby Wynonna drifted through the speakers, and I shook my head, smiling at Shannon’s song choice.
“Alright everyone, let’s get started. Set your springs to one red, one green, one blue, and lay on your back. Feet on the bar in Pilates stance. Heels together and toes apart, then push away for a count of six.”
An hour passed in a flash, and I walked away from the reformer with a satisfying burn in my muscles, waving goodbye to my patrons. Before I knew it, I’d taught six classes in a row to a wide variety of attendees, and the day was over for me.
“Playpen is ready for pickup in Glenwood Springs after 5 p.m. tonight,” Shannon said as I leaned against the front desk.
A low groan slipped out of me, and I dropped my head to the counter. “Nothing closer? Did you check the ski towns? I’ll pay more to not have to drive that far.”
“Sold out.” Shannon tapped the back of my head a littleharder than necessary, and I looked up at her with a scowl. “Maybe I would have tried harder if you’d explained yourself.”
With a sigh, I reached down and slipped off my grip socks, then reached for my snow boots in the bottom cubby. “It’s a long story, but I met a woman who I invited to class tomorrow night at 5.”
Shannon frowned, then clicked around on the screen for a minute. “You don’t have a class at 5 tomorrow, and Michael doesn’t work Tuesday evenings, so we’re closed. You told me not to schedule you during dinner hours so you can go to the rink to watch Jace.”
“I know, I know.” I puffed out my cheeks, trying to think through how to explain why this felt important. Something about Stevie pulled me in, or maybe I just recognized thatslowly drowning in what everyone says is supposed to be magicalexpression she wore. “I feel like she needs me.”
My not-friend shook her head, then grabbed my coat from the hook behind the desk and tossed it to me. “You’re just like Ty, you know that? Needing to swoop in and rescue everyone.”
I slid my arms into the jacket. “He does love a damsel, doesn’t he?”
“Says the woman currently driving his car.” Shannon arched a brow and gave me a pointed look.
“Listen.” I grabbed my purse and swiped open my phone to a text from Jace letting me know he was practicing with the team tonight after all. “Pick your battles, Shannon. He wants me to drive his fancy car while mine won’t start when it dips below freezing and it’s the beginning of winter? That one wasn’t worth stubborn independence. And besides, youshould see the Christmas haul I bought for Rowdy and the chickens.”
“You bought the chickens presents.” Shannon delivered it with such little inflection, I chuckled at the non-question.
“Not like he’d let me buy anything for him, so yes, I bought the chickens presents. Well, really, my plan is to decorate the coop for them.”
Shannon shook her head and waved me off. “Your family is weird as fuck.”
“Darn.” I patted her cheek, then grabbed my keys and remote started the car, wearing a smirk. “Guess I’ll return your presents then.”
Her dark eyes flicked up to mine. “What did you get me?”
“Well, now I can’t tell you since I have to return it.”
“It’s weird to buy presents for your not-friends.”
“So weird.” I pushed the door open to a blast of cold air, then waved over my shoulder. “See you tomorrow!”
Lee Ann Womack blasted over the speakers as I got in the warm car, settling into the heated seats. Of all the ways Ty had forced his way into my life over the past year, this car was the thing I felt like arguing the least over, especially as my hands curled around the heated leather steering wheel.
I’d made a decent living as a physical therapist assistant in Connecticut before the move and did okay off the Pilates studio income. Between my paychecks and Ryan’s divorce settlement, I lived comfortably, but I didn’t have future NHL Hall of Famer money. If my brother insisted on doing things like fixing my car and giving me his as a loaner then I wasn’t going to complain.
My fingers tapped along to the beat of the song as I drove through the snowy town toward the rink, passing thecolorful row houses and shops littered along River Street. Between the bright colors, the softly falling snow, the setting sun, and the cheery music, I couldn’t help but smile. Life wasn’t perfect, but when was it? Every time I thought about my interaction with Stevie this morning, I got a little more excited, hoping she’d show up.
All day I’d thought about younger me, back when Ryan was playing minor league hockey, trying to make it to the NHL. I’d spent my days home alone with a cranky baby, wavering between awe that this was my life and despair that each of his little breaths was all my existence boiled down to.
In the 15 years since then, I’d come to terms with the fact that motherhood was like that—violent waves of emotion as you floated between feeling lost at sea and buoyed by love for your children that was so all-encompassing it was all you needed to survive. Not food, not water, and definitely not sleep—just caffeine and pure adoration for the little life you created.
But, of course, that wasn’t sustainable either. At some point, I came to the realization I had to take better care of myself to be the mom I wanted to be. It was hard to show up and be present and happy when you were drowning.
Maybe I was projecting my journey on Stevie and she didn’t need me, but on the off chance she did, I wanted to reach a hand out and let her know she wasn’t alone.
