Nowhere, she thought.
Shana’s boyfriend was just leaving the building as Katrina approached the front steps.
“Good morning, Kat.” He looked up at the dark sky and opened his umbrella. “Enjoying this lovely weather?”
“Hi, Josh. Yes, there’s nothing like a deluge to brighten up a fall day.”
“Looks like you’ve already been out and about. Brave girl . . . unless you’re just getting home from last night?” He winked at her.
“Sorry to disappoint.” She pointed down the street. “I went around the corner for coffee. Are you on your way home, or just out to do the same?”
“I wish I were going out for coffee, but unfortunately I’m headed to the office.”
“Ouch. On a Saturday morning?”
He shrugged. “Par for the course at my firm, sad to say. At least when we’re working on a big case, which lately has been . . . always.”
No wonder Grace wanted to get out of there, Katrina thought.
“Is Shana still here?”
“Yes, but not for long. She’s teaching a class at ten.”
Katrina’s ears perked up. Despite being sore from yesterday’s session, it was a good sore, and she wanted to try yoga again. Plus after last night, she could use some internal reflection and wondered whether Shana might offer a little more wisdom before class.
She said good-bye to Josh, then hurried upstairs and knocked on Shana’s door.
“Hi, neighbor. What’s up?” Shana was dressed in yoga gear, holding a steaming mug of tea. There was jazz playing in the background in her studio apartment.
Katrina pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “I just ran into Josh, who said you were leaving soon to teach a class. Can I come with you?”
“Really? You want to take another class?”
“Yes. Obviously I’ll pay this time.”
Shana broke out into a huge smile. “So you really did enjoy it?”
Katrina pushed a lock of damp hair behind her ear. “I told you I did.”
“I know, but people say that all the time. I never know if they really mean it, you know?”
It was such an earnest comment that Katrina was taken aback. How could Shana not see what a good instructor she was? For a moment she saw her own self-doubt reflected in Shana’s blue eyes—and realized how unfortunate it was.
She nodded. “Admittedly, I’m feeling muscles I never knew I had before today, but I really enjoyed it. And it’s high time I got in better shape, so count me in.”
“All right, you’re in. But you’re not paying.”
“I don’t want you to have to pay for me.”
Shana sipped her tea. “Maybe we’ll square off on that painting sooner than I’d hoped. I’ll put your name in the computer for a few comps, which I’m allowed as one of my rare perks. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Twenty minutes later, Katrina and Shana were on their way to the yoga studio. When they were less than ten feet from the entrance, Katrina’s phone began to ring.
“I’ll meet you inside, okay?” Shana pointed to the door. “Blair’s here today, and she gets upset when I’m late. And shut off your phone so it doesn’t ring in there, promise? That really ticks her off.”
“Promise.” It was still raining cats and dogs, so Katrina stood under the awning and fished her phone out of her purse. She hoped it wasn’t Reid calling—but also secretly hoped it was. Why was she thinking about him? She knew she shouldn’t be thinking about him. She also knew she shouldn’t be thinking about thinking about him.
She hesitated for a moment when she saw the name on the display, then took a deep breath and answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Good morning, Katrina. I just thought I’d check in to see how things are going out there.” As usual, her mother’s voice revealed little emotion.
Katrina doubted she was referring to sightseeing. “Things are going really well so far. I’ve been doing a lot of exploring around the city . . . and I’ve even been painting a little bit.”
Her mother ignored the revelation. “Is the apartment suitable?”
“It’s fine. Nothing fancy, but it’s nice enough. Very clean.”
“I’ve heard horror stories about cheap New York apartments. Are you sure it’s clean?”
“It’s fine, really. And it’s not that cheap, believe me.”
“All right. If you say so, I’ll have to take your word for it. It’s just that your father and I know you’re hardly in a position to be spending a lot of money, so we worry about your living conditions.”
“It’s perfectly acceptable, Mom.”
“So have you sent out any résumés yet?”
Katrina sighed. There it was: the real reason for the call. “Mom, I’ve been here for less than a week.”
“So?”
“So I barely know my way around my neighborhood yet.”
“Katrina, just because you decided to take a vacation, it doesn’t mean the world has stopped.”
“I know that.”
“If you don’t get started on your job search now, you’re going to fall way behind. Trust me. I know you may think we’re being unreasonable about this, but your father and I only have your best interests in mind.”
Katrina squeezed the handle of her umbrella. “Got it. Listen, I’ve really got to go now. I’m sorry. Will you please tell Dad I said hi?”
“What I want to tell him is that you’re sending out some résumés this weekend. Can I tell him that?”
“Monday. Okay? I’ll start Monday.”
“Don’t slack off on this, Katrina. You’ll only be disappointing yourself.”
“I won’t, Mom. I promise.”
“All right, then. Good-bye, Katrina.”
“Bye, Mom.”
She hung up the phone and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying her best to believe her mom acted this way because she loved her.
When Katrina walked into the studio, the pale-skinned woman she’d passed on the way out the day before was sitting at the front desk. Her dark hair was again pulled into a severe bun.
“Name, please?”
Katrina hesitated, and the woman gave her a strange look.
Katrina swallowed. “Lynden . . . Katrina Lynden. It, um, might be in there as Kat.”
The woman typed the name efficiently into the computer. It was obvious she wasn’t thrilled when she realized Katrina wasn’t paying for the session. She gave her a stiff nod and gestured for her to enter.
Once she had lit a candle and sat down in front of the class, Shana smiled at the group, and Katrina closed her eyes along with the others.
“Did any of you love cotton candy when you were a kid?” Shana asked. “I remember thinking it was the absolute best food in the world, that life would be perfect if I could eat cotton candy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. In my mind, that was all I really needed to be happy. My parents disagreed, of course, so I only got to have it on special occasions. But for whatever reason, there was something about cotton candy that made me happy, and even now, just the thought of it makes me smile. Sometimes that’s all I need when I’m feeling a little blue. I’ll close my eyes and remember how simple life was back then, and it reminds me that I shouldn’t take things so seriously now. Do you have a childhood memory that brings you joy? A toy? A food? A stuffed animal?”
Katrina shifted on her mat and remembered the paint set her grandmother had given her for Christmas in fourth grade. She’d loved it as a child but hadn’t thought about it in ages.
She felt the hint of a smile form on her lips.
Shana continued. “For my brother, it’s the game Stratego. He used to play it with our grandfather as a kid in Ohio. When he’s down in the dumps, or stressed at work, he’ll think about Stratego of all things, and it always mak
es him feel a little better. Isn’t that wonderful? You may be skeptical, but it works because the positive memories associated with these things from our childhood are so strong. We all have to grow up, but we don’t have to leave behind what makes us happy, right?”
Katrina opened her eyes and glanced at Shana. Was she referring to her painting?
Shana didn’t seem to notice. “As a wise man once told me, we are responsible for our own happiness. So whether it’s memories from yesterday or twenty years ago, I believe if we focus on the things that make us happy, then happiness will find us in return.” She paused for a moment, then stood up and turned on the soft background music. “Now let’s all meet in downward dog position.”
As they began to move through the poses, Katrina felt a bit uncomfortable, as though Shana had been speaking directly to her, almost as though she could read her mind. But when she saw the blissed-out look on the other students’ faces, she suspected she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
“Do you always tell a story before class?” Katrina asked Shana on their way out of the building an hour later.
Shana nodded. “Pretty much. I’m not even sure why I started doing it. One day I just jotted down a few thoughts to share before class, and then before I knew it, they became a regular thing.”
“Where do you come up with the ideas?”
She shrugged. “It depends. Sometimes they’re based on what’s going on in my life, or how I’m feeling. But I don’t always tell a story. Sometimes I recite a poem, or ask a simple question for the group to think about during class. Or if a person inspires me, like you did last night, I talk about that. Josh gives me a lot of inspiration too. He’s the wise man I mentioned today.”
“Josh is the wise man?”
“You’d be surprised. There’s a lot going on underneath that preppy exterior. He’s warm and inquisitive and supportive, and he’d do anything to make me smile. I love him as much as I love myself.”
I love him as much as I love myself.
Katrina glanced at the ground, embarrassed to have no frame of reference for such a profound statement. “I’m impressed, Shana, really. You’re so . . . insightful.”
“You think so? Sometimes I wonder if I come across as a little too New Agey. Blair’s not really a fan of my approach to teaching. She’s more into the burn-as-many-calories-as-you-can style of yoga.”
Yeah, but her skinniness certainly isn’t making her any nicer, Katrina thought. “Well, just so you know, I’m a big fan.” She wanted to let Shana know how much what she’d said in class had resonated with her, but she wasn’t sure how to articulate it without sounding . . . New Agey. So she left it at that, hoping what she’d said was enough.
“Thanks. I’ll tell Gracie that the next time she calls me hippie-dippie.” Shana held her arm out to one side and watched the raindrops fall against her hand. “Ugh, I’ve had enough of this rain. Despite what I said last night about taking chances in life, I think I’m going to spend the rest of the day curled up with a trashy romance novel. How’s that for insight?”
Katrina smiled and poked her head out from under her umbrella to look up at the dark sky. It wasn’t even noon yet, but it felt like dusk. “That sounds like the perfect way to wait out the storm, and if I were home, I’d probably be doing the exact same thing. Given how limited my daylight hours are here, I can’t justify staying in. Especially on a Saturday.”
“Makes sense. So what are your plans?”
“I’m not sure yet. But I’m going to get out there to, as you said, see the world.”
Shana laughed. “Well, have fun, whatever you do. Hey, we’re going to Ten Degrees tonight if you’d like to join us.”
“Ten Degrees? What’s that?”
“It’s a wine bar on Saint Marks.”
“Is ten degrees the temperature inside? If it is, I’m not going. I’m from California, remember?”
Shana smiled. “It’s a cool place—and not in the temperature sense. I promise you’ll like it. It’s much nicer than that dive bar we went to the other night.”
“You’re going with Josh?”
“Maybe Gracie too.” Shana unlocked her door. “So what do you think? Want to come along?”
“If I have enough steam after a day of sightseeing. But to be honest, I’ll probably end up on the couch watching TV.”
“I won’t tell anyone if you do. But if you can make it out, we’d love to see you there.”
Katrina smiled. “Thanks, Shana.” Maybe one day Kat will be joining you, she thought, but I have a feeling that tonight Katrina will be going to bed early.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, freshly showered and with the hefty Sunday paper under her arm and a solid night’s sleep under her belt, Katrina walked into the coffeehouse a little after eight thirty. It was about half full, so she set her newspaper and sweater down on her usual table, then walked over to the counter to order. Today Peter was there.
“You again?” He gave her a wry grin.
“Hi, Peter.”
“You’re becoming our best customer.”
“I am?”
“One of them. We’ve got quite a few regulars in here. You want the usual?”
“You know my order?” She felt her face flush.
He gave her a look. “Blueberry scone and a skim latte? It’s not that hard.”
She laughed awkwardly, silently kicking herself for reacting that way. Why should she care if he knew her usual order? “I’m sorry. You’re right. No Justin today?”
“He’s usually at the other shop on Sundays.”
“The other shop as in coffeehouse?”
He nodded.
“There’s another one?”
He handed her the scone on a plate. “It’s on the Upper West Side. You should check it out sometime. It’s twice the size of this place.”
“I’ll try to do that.” She nibbled on the scone until her latte was ready, then made her way back to her table. It wasn’t until she sat down that she realized she didn’t know the name of the place. The sign outside featured only a cup of coffee, and the chalkboard menu didn’t have a visible name or logo. It was as if the place didn’t have a name at all.
Nearly an hour later, Katrina’s phone chimed. As she reached for her purse, she mentally went over her prepared response in case the text was from Reid.
Thank him for inviting me out Friday night.
Don’t mention what did or did not almost happen between us.
Graciously decline additional contact.
She hoped he wouldn’t think she was rude to cut off their budding friendship, but after mulling things over on Saturday, she decided it was for the best.
The message was from her mother, a reminder to e-mail her parents a current résumé so they could critique it.
Katrina sighed and tossed the phone back into her purse without responding. Did her mother really have nothing better to do on a Sunday morning? It wasn’t even seven o’clock there yet!
She gathered her things, waved good-bye to Peter, and slowly walked back to her building. She had three possibilities for how to spend the day but still hadn’t picked one. Now that it had finally stopped raining, the list of ways her Sunday could unfold had once again expanded . . . endlessly.
She was a block away when she spotted Shana, Josh, and Grace heading toward her, all three of them dressed in shorts and bright orange T-shirts. She stopped walking and squinted at them. Was Josh wearing . . . a white terry-cloth headband?
“There you are!” Shana skipped up to her. “We just knocked on your door.”
“Any chance you’re up for playing soccer right now?” Grace asked.
Katrina tried not to laugh out loud. “Soccer? Are you joking?”
“Usually, but not this time,” Grace said.
“We’re short a
girl,” Shana said. “Please?” Her shirt, like the ones Grace and Josh wore, said “NYC Soccer” on the front.
“I’ve never kicked a soccer ball in my life,” Katrina said. “I don’t have the right shoes or anything.”
“We don’t care,” Josh said. “We suck anyway.”
“Dude, we worse than suck,” Grace said to him. “We suck at sucking.”
Josh shrugged. “Semantics.”
“Please, Kat?” Shana held her hands prayerfully. “We’d be so grateful.”
“You really don’t care that I don’t even know how to play?”
Grace put a hand on her shoulder. “Kat, Kitty if I may, which part of we suck didn’t you understand?”
Josh held out his arms. “Does this look like the finely tuned instrument of a skilled athlete?”
Katrina smiled at him. “I think you look great.”
“Come on, Kat. It’ll be fun.” Shana’s hands were still in prayer position. “Please? And you don’t need soccer shoes. You can just wear sneakers. That’s what Gracie and I wear.”
Katrina swallowed. What if she tried to kick the ball and missed? What if she fell on her face? She had always hated doing things she wasn’t good at. At home she would never say yes to something like this.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t say yes here.
She gave them a nervous nod. “Okay, sure. Why not?”
“Yay!” Shana did a little jump and clapped her hands, then gave Katrina a quick hug. “Thank you so much. We totally owe you.”
“Let’s see how you feel about that after you see me play.”
Twenty minutes later, the four of them were in a cab in Chinatown, slowly crawling across Canal Street. Katrina stared out the window at the crowds swarming the stores and kiosks lining both sides of the street. It was a two-pronged river of tourists, cheap souvenirs, and knockoff designer handbags. Compared to the eclectic shops of the East Village, every vendor here seemed to be selling the exact same merchandise.
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