Page 17 of Welcome Home, Cowboy
“Hey, Julie,” Allison said as Julie passed the front desk. “I’m so excited about this class.”
Julie grinned. “Me, too. How many people should I be expecting tonight?”
Allison lifted a shoulder. “I spoke to my mother this morning. She said she’s advised about eight Marines to come. She also asked if you’d keep attendance so she can make sure they’re fulfilling her orders. Do you mind?”
Julie shook her head. “Not at all.”
“Great. I’m on my way out, but call me if you need anything.”
“I will.” Julie waved and headed toward the back classroom. It was a spacious room that would easily fit eight macho Marines—who might not want to do yoga for the next hour. She was well aware that some of the men, or women, might be forced to be here. That they might not actually want to learn what she was teaching. That was okay; she’d win them over.
She sat and took a deep breath, waiting for the first person to arrive.
“Hi.” A short Asian woman walked into the classroom with a bright, energetic smile. “I’m Rose.”
“You’re a Marine?” Julie asked.
Rose laughed. “Yes. Is this the yoga class?”
The breath whooshed out of Julie’s chest. Rose looked friendly. And she looked like she wanted to be here. “Yes. Please come in.”
Four men walked in next. And they didn’t look like they were being marched to the firing squad, either. By seven o’clock, there were seven members of the military seated on yoga mats in front of her.
“Okay. Looks like it’s time to start. I’m Julie Chandler and I’ll be your yoga instructor for the next month.” She proceeded to tell a little bit about herself and how yoga had changed her life. She hoped it’d have an even bigger impact on the lives of the people in front of her. “So let’s sit cross-legged and take a moment to quietly focus on breathing.”
Everyone in the room followed her lead. It was going smoothly, and then she hit a road bump.
She heard the sound of the person’s heavy sneakers before turning and seeing his face. And, was it her imagination or did the man before her look as confused as she was?
“Yoga?” Lawson placed a hand on his hip. Dressed in nylon shorts and a large T-shirt with the sleeves cut out, he looked like he was ready to step into a boxing ring more than strike a Warrior Pose. Everyone else had on tightly fitted clothing that would stick to their bodies while doing the positions. “This is the exercise class?” he asked.
She nodded. “This is the class for stress reduction.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, his eyes darkened.
“Figures.” He started to walk to a spot in the back.
“You need to take off your shoes,” she said, watching him. “And grab a mat from along the wall, please.”
All of the other Marines were watching him, too. He was older than most of them, and, she guessed, higher ranking. Lawson kicked off his sneakers and grabbed a mat, then proceeded to set up as Julie instructed the others to stand and explained the first pose. Her confidence was shaken, though. What was Lawson doing here? Whatever the reason, he certainly didn’t look happy about it.
“All right, everyone. Hands up over your heads, lift your face up to the ceiling and arch back. Breathe.” She inhaled deeply through her nose, trying not to think about Lawson in the back of the room, watching her. Or actually,notwatching her. “Bring your hands back to center,” she said, taking a peek in his direction. Yes, he was watching, but he wasn’t doing the movements. “Spread your legs wide, turn your front foot to point at me, your body faces the wall. Arms out to the sides. This is Warrior Two Pose,” she said.
The others in the class imitated her movements. Lawson, however, did not. She brought her legs back together and decided it was time for a little one-on-one instruction. She sprinkled a few words of praise and guidance to the others in the room as she made her way to the tall, lean guy in the back corner.
“Do you need help?” she asked.
“Me?” He laughed. “No, I don’t need any help,” he said a little too loudly.
He was embarrassed to be here, and he wanted to make sure everyone knew it wasn’t by choice.
“But you’re not doing the poses,” she said, crossing her arms and looking at him. She could tell what he was thinking. He thought yoga was stupid. Silly. “If you’re going to be in this class, you need to participate. This isn’t a spectator sport.”
Lawson shook his head. “This isn’t sport, period. Or exercise.” He looked around at the others, who were all tuned in and watching them as they held the pose.
A lot of good this was doing for their stress levels, watching their instructor argue with one of their colleagues.
“It is exercise,” she said through tight lips.
