"I swear, man, your dad's trying to kill us."
Jay laughs because it really was the only option at this point: his best friend was right - his dad probably was trying to kill them.
"What can I say? He was pissed that humvee didn't take us out," he says, taking a right turn into the neighborhood the two of them had been frequenting lately.
Mouse balls up a napkin from their lunch and throws it at him. "Your sense of humor is sick."
"You love me."
"I tolerate you because your dad got me a job."
"And look where it got you."
Jay's truck makes a loud thump as he hits a pothole, the tools in the trunk crashing around.
"We've gotta ask your dad for some sort of organization," Mouse complains, "I swear, one of those loose hammers is gonna fly out and take out a kid."
"You heard the man," Jay sighs, "He wants us figuring things out for ourselves. We're lucky he gave us the tools and is putting us on jobs. Once we have some money, we can put into keeping it all neat and tidy. Think of it as a start up."
"A start up is when you actually start a business yourself," Mouse counters, "Not when your dad does the dirty work for you by letting you work on the jobs for his company. He's still getting the majority of the money from these jobs even though we're the ones taking down cabinets and putting in floors and doing whatever else these wanna be rich people ask."
Jay shakes his head, but says nothing.
Mouse might be right.
Again.
For five months now, they'd been working for Jay's dad's company, Halstead Homes. It was easy money from the start. They joined the demo crew to take down walls and kitchens and bathrooms and whatever else they were told to destroy. They actually enjoyed it. There was something about smashing everything in sight with a giant mallet that was therapeutic.
It'd been Jay's mom's goal in suggesting their dad took them on. She wanted them to get their "aggression" out in "more productive manners" than what they'd been doing at the time. How she'd found out what exactly they'd been doing was still a question that they debated every once in a while.
Pat Halstead had not been excited to agree to the plan, but he'd also been getting tired of watching his youngest son and his best friend "bum around" the house. It wasn't their fault that they didn't have much drive or even a job to go to: they had been in the army together and gotten blown up in a humvee explosion. They were the only two of their squad to make it out alive and with all their limbs. Mouse still had a stiff knee and hip that acted up every once in a while, and Jay needed to ice his back most nights after work, but they were back in Chicago, and that was more important.
At least, that's what Jay's mom reminded them whenever they got stuck in a funk.
She'd given them two months of recovery and rehab and then three months of being miserable about their lives before pushing them into work. Jay had been annoyed at her at the time, especially after she'd sat them down and given them a talk about what all the alcohol, smoking, and sex was going to do to them, but he couldn't just ignore that he thought she was one of the best people on Earth.
When he'd returned to Chicago with his arm in a sling and a need for a beer every night, she could have turned him away - like his dad had wanted to do. But she didn't. She brought him back into his childhood bedroom, helped nurse him back to be somewhat functional, and stood between him and his dad when Pat decided he had enough. She also volunteered to host Mouse in the spare bedroom until he was able to get a place of his own. Growing up in the foster system hadn't exactly given him a family to fall back upon, so Jay and the Halsteads was all he had.
They had been inseparable throughout high school. Meeting each other during the first day of biology led to late nights in Jay's basement playing video games which eventually led to them enlisting in the military together. Neither had any idea what they wanted to do upon graduation and school wasn't something either of them enjoyed, so doing something actionable that could maybe even be considered honorable seemed like the best option. Jay's parents had put up a fight for them both, but they ignored their warnings and decided fighting for the country was the best move for them.
One tour turned into two which became joining the Rangers which eventually led to their near death experience. While dying had certainly been on the table when they agreed to sign for the army, it became incredibly too real when they were being airlifted back to the States. Neither knew what to do then.
Throughout high school, they had enjoyed helping out with Halstead Homes. It wasn't a frequent job for them, but it'd been easy money smashing whatever they were told to do. Stepping back into their roles as demo crew had been just as easy, but lately Pat had been pushing them to learn more skills and become more valuable to the team.
This week, that meant installing laminate floors. Again.
Jay parks the truck alongside the Jeep in the latest house's driveway and asks, "Did you know Ruze and Kev were going to be joining us?"
Mouse shrugs, taking one last sip of his coke and pushing open the door. "Glad, though; I hate doing floors. They'll hopefully make it go faster."
Jay hums and jumps out, following his friend to the trunk so they could grab out everything they were going to need for the next few hours. Putting in floors is monotonous and soothes his brain in almost the same way a demo day does. His dad does beat the two of them to the ground, but he can't deny that he doesn't need it. Without this job, he probably still would be drinking himself under the table every night and searching for his next high with Mouse on weekends. If he's here and working until he almost passes out in the shower at night, then he's alive and keeping his mom happy, and that's all that matters right now.
Walking in the house, Mouse yells out, "I didn't know the apprentices were helping us out today!"
"Go to hell!"
Jay smirks and follows Mouse into the living room where Adam and Kevin were already on their hands and knees to install the new flooring. "You been here long?"
"In your dad's company? Longer than you," Adam shoots back. He turns to face them and nods in a greeting.
"Doesn't look like this'll take us long," Kevin says without looking up, "Which is good cause your dad said Mrs. Robertson wants this done today."
"Today?" Mouse asks, "You're kidding me." He meets Jay's eyes, and they both know they're thinking the exact same thing.
Pat wants them dead.
"Whatever," Jay sighs, making his way to the pile of flooring off to the side. It shouldn't take the four of them more than a few hours to get this space done: there were minimum cuts to be made and they all had experience doing this before. He could grit his teeth and get it done. Anything for the paycheck.
Mrs. Robertson shows up just after six to approve of the work done and passes each of them a generous tip for their quick job. It's the fastest Jay's ever worked putting a floor in, but he's rather impressed with himself as he takes in the space.
"You two up for a beer?" Kevin asks once the truck and Jeep are packed up and they're all ready to leave.
Mouse glances at Jay and raises an eyebrow, but Jay waves him off.
"I'm down," Mouse replies, "But are you two cool with driving me? Jay's got family time."
Jay rolls his eyes as his friends laugh at him. "It's Will's birthday. We're having dinner then FaceTiming him. Mouse was invited too-"
"By your mom," Mouse interrupts, "You know Will never liked me much, and I'm really not your dad's favorite person. I wouldn't feel right interrupting Halstead family time."
"Convenient," Jay breathes.
Mouse smirks and says, "I know. But say 'hi' to your mom for me and give her a hug. Maybe even grab me some of her meatloaf if that's what she's making."
"Meatloaf?" Adam asks, already hopping into the front seat, "You like meatloaf?"
"You ever had Mrs. Halstead's meatloaf?" Mouse counters, "It's one of the best dinners I've ever had and pretty much the definition of comfort food."
"I don't know many people who crave meatloaf," Kevin says. He nods at Jay and adds, "See you on the next one."
Jay waves him off then gets in his rundown truck just as Kevin and Mouse get in Adam's car. Mouse can tease them as much as he wants that the two of them are younger by a year, but they can't deny that they'd been working at Halstead Homes for longer than they had. While he and Mouse went off to war, Adam and Kevin went to trade school. Their goal was to eventually have their own construction company as well, and it was often the topic of conversation at bar nights, especially when those nights came after working a long shift.
Kevin and Adam had played baseball with Jay prior to high school, and while they'd joined the team once they were old enough, Jay decided he'd had enough. He kept in touch with them and had a class or two with them over the years, but it hadn't been until he'd come home from Afghanistan this last time that he actually started spending more time with them. They were good guys who he could count on, and he probably wouldn't mind starting up a company of his own with them in the future; they just all needed to get there first.
Driving home, Jay lets his mind wander back to Mrs. Robertson's house and the pictures he'd taken to send to his dad. He knows that Pat was going to show up the next day to go over all the details himself, but he needs to prepare for the comments he's probably going to get within seconds of stepping into his parents' front door.
Perhaps there was a board or two that could have been tighter or maybe he spotted the section that Adam and Mouse had messed up and needed to redo just an hour before. He had no reason, though, to withhold pay from any of them. They had done a solid job.
Moving out of his parents' house just two months ago had been one of the biggest reliefs of Jay's life. He loved his mom, but there was only so much of his dad's criticism he could take, especially since he was now doing more than just demo. He always seemed to find something that wasn't quite right with whatever job he and Mouse had done. Somedays, though, he just wanted to come home and relax after working, he didn't always want to relive every decision he'd made - not when what he'd done was install floors or take out some cabinets. Not every choice he made needed to be critiqued on end.
He parks his truck in the street outside the gate and runs a hand over his hair before hopping out to make his way inside. Just as he's about to knock on the front door, he can hear his dad watching the White Sox game inside, and he closes his eyes to groan.
He'd forgotten there was a game tonight.
Pushing open the door, he announces his presence by saying, "Hey, made it!"
"You're late," Pat greets without looking away from the TV, "Something go wrong at Mrs. Robertson's?"
"No," Jay sighs, "Everything went-"
"Then why're you half an hour late?" Pat asks, finally turning away from the game as a commercial filled the screen, "Truck giving you problems again?"
"No, just talked to Mrs. Robertson for a bit," Jay replies as he toes off his shoes, "We walked her through everything we'd done and made sure she was happy. Just like we always do."
"Good," Pat hums.
"Thanks, proud of you, son."
Jay waits for the words, but they don't come. They never do.
He can work his ass off for hours at a time, even sometimes working through meals just to meet his dad's impossible deadlines, and his dad never finds the time to thank him for it. He just expects the job to be done and done well and never takes the extra second to praise any of the work done.
Jay pulled himself out of a depression and mild addiction to do well at this job, especially when it came to learning how to install floors and toilets and backsplash and whatever else his dad deemed important to know how to do, and not once did his dad congratulate him for doing so. He didn't want to be someone who needed validation all the time, but it would have been nice to hear.
He heads into the kitchen where his mom is making some sort of dessert at the counter. A smile finally spreads across his face as the smell of apples and cinnamon fill his senses.
"Are you making apple crumble?"
Carrie looks up from the topping she's making and instantly smiles, just like she does whenever she sees her youngest son. "I am," she says, "It might be Will's birthday, but he's not here, so why not have your favorite dessert."
"Thanks," Jay chuckles. He steps around the counter to give her a tight hug and adds, "Smells delicious."
"Thank you," she replies once she steps back. She reaches up to brush her hand over his cheek and asks, "How'd the job go?"
"Fine," Jay answers. He grabs an apple slice already covered in the cinnamon coating and pops it in his mouth. "Kev and Adam were there to help us out. Mouse actually went out with them."
"They could have all come here," Carrie says, "We have more than enough food."
"I know, but they didn't want to intrude," Jay replies. He spots the empty table and grabs out plates and silverware for the three of them.
"Well, bring them over soon," Carrie says with a slight sigh, "I worry about you boys on your own. Are you eating?"
Jay laughs and begins setting the table. "Yeah, Ma, we're eating. You have no reason to worry."
"But eating good food?" Carrie asks, "Because you can't just live off of mac and cheese forever. You two are grown men."
"Mom, we're good," Jay assures.
He didn't want her worrying about him or Mouse. They were adults who could take care of themselves. Maybe they hit a few rough spots along the way, but that didn't mean anything about how they could act now. They'd gotten their lives together. That had to count for something.
"I know, I know," Carrie says, "But a mom's job is to worry, and that's what I'm going to do." There's a soft beep behind her, so she hurries over to open the oven. "Go tell Dad dinner's ready."
Jay sets his jaw, but nods and asks, "What'd you make anyways?"
"Lasagna," she replies while pulling the pan out, "And I made Greg a meatloaf for you to bring home. I know you say you're eating well, which is great, but he enjoys it, so-"
"Thanks, Mom," Jay interrupts softly, "He'll like it."
She smiles back at him then points an oven mitt to the hallway and says, "Now, get him away from that TV. We're calling Will in fifteen minutes, and then I have yoga at seven."
Jay raises an eyebrow at that, not realizing she had one of her classes tonight, but still goes to the living room to attempt to pull his dad away from the screen. "Ma's got dinner ready," he announces upon walking in, "You ready?"
Pat sighs and turns off the TV. "Yeah. You know, you could have been one of them. You would have been much better than this crap I'm watching now."
Some kids would have taken that as a compliment, but Jay knew better. His dad had never forgiven him for turning down a baseball scholarship to Dominican University. It'd been the only school that showed even the littlest of interest in him, but that thought did nothing to impact Jay's decision. School wasn't his thing. He needed action. And he didn't even know what he would have gone to college for. Maybe they would have paid for it just to get him to play ball, but they would have taken it away from him as soon as they saw his semester grades. He saw no point in wasting time and money just to please his dad.
He hums in response and leads the way back into the kitchen.
"Who was winning?" Carrie asks as they all settle around the table.
"Kansas City," Pat sighs, already reaching for the lasagna, "Real shame too. I was telling Jay that he would have been much better than those guys they've got out there now."
"Things worked out the way they were supposed to," Carrie says. She passes Jay a bowl of garlic bread and offers a supportive smile. They've talked before about how Pat gets under his skin, especially since he'd returned home and the comments seemed to increase. Jay wants to keep the peace for her, and he knows she's trying, but there's only so much he can take.
"They just could have been better," Pat replies. He hands Jay the spatula and then gets to the exact thing Jay wasn't looking forward to: "So, I was looking at those pictures you sent. I know you said it went well, but talk me through that bit around the fireplace. I couldn't tell how the angles were in the picture. You do that on purpose?"
Jay lets out a breath and glances at him from scooping a slice of lasagna on his plate. "Do what on purpose?"
"Not send a close up of the work you'd done," Pat clarifies, "I'd like to take a look at those cuts. Next time you place some floor down, you need to send me closer pictures. Keep that in mind for next week."
Jay's eyes widen, and he finally looks at his dad. "Next week?"
"Yeah, I've got you, Greg, Adam, and Kevin down for a whole house reno next week in Fuller Park," Pat explains without looking up from the green beans he's piling on his plate, "You'll be tearing out carpet and old tile. They need the whole house redone. I'll stop in throughout to make sure it's going well, but I've also got that house in Bridgeport I've been working on with the guys."
"I didn't realize you were putting us fully on floors," Jay says, trying to keep his voice calm, "You said we could try out some different stuff. I haven't done molding yet or really any woodworking on the walls, and I've just done cabinets a few times."
"I want you to keep learning floors until you can do it in your sleep," Pat says, "You didn't go to trade school; you don't have any sort of specialty, so this is what we're doing. I want you and Greg to try it all."
"How can we try it all if all you keep signing us up to do is flooring?" Jay argues, "Dad, we're-"
"It's my company, right?" Pat interrupts, setting his fork and knife down as he finally meets Jay's eyes, "And I've seen the work you can do. There's still improvements to be made, so this is what we're doing. You'll get some demo in that you've been wanting to do; it's fine. Now, eat up so we can call Will and I can get back to the game."
Jay spins to look at his mom, but all she does is simply shake her head. There are some arguments that even she knows she can't win, and those start and end with anything surrounding Halstead Homes.
It always comes back to Pat being the owner of the company and the main contractor. He's the one who gets the final say on it all. He may worship the ground Carrie walks on, but this is where he will always put his foot down.
Jay groans quietly, though not quietly enough as Pat shoots him a look that tells him all he needs to know: shut up or get out.
"Have you been to a meeting lately?" Carrie asks gently, "How's that been going?"
Jay lets out a breath and rubs a hand over his face. His required meetings set by his mom are never his favorite thing to attend, certainly not to talk about during a dinner with his dad.
"It's fine," he answers quietly, "I went Sunday morning. Mouse came with me."
Carrie nods. "Good, I'm glad. You need to keep at it, okay? Dad and I are proud of you for going."
Jay's eyes dart over to Pat who quietly grunts, his typical response whenever Carrie expresses any sort of pride in him for continuing to live his life after the dark period he had experienced.
"Thanks," he murmurs, "It's - uh - it's worth it."
Carrie's smile widens, and she nods again. "You are worth it, bug. Don't ever give up on yourself."
Jay feels his face flush red, but he nods in response. Anything to let his mom know that he hears her and understands what she's saying.
He didn't ever want to disappoint her.
"And what are you doing to stay in shape?" Carrie asks, "Have you decided if you want to join my yoga class yet?"
This is one thing Jay knows his dad actually would support him on.
"Care, no, the boy's not going to a yoga class," Pat says, "He's been lifting weights, right? You've got that regimen going that you started in physical therapy."
"Yeah," Jay replies with a nod, "I've been doing a lot of lifting, and then I go for runs every few days."
"Yoga's good for your body," Carrie says, "It's worth a shot. Maybe it'll help your back out."
"Your back?" Pat asks quickly, "Since when has your back been giving you issues?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe since I was in a car explosion," Jay shoots back without thinking.
"Jay Andrew," Carrie hisses.
Jay can't even find it within himself to feel bad for throwing what had happened to him in his father's face. He was tired of the little comments and the way his dad seemed to suddenly forget that he had gone through something traumatic. Now that he could walk again and do work, he was supposed to be back to "normal" in his dad's eyes, and that just wasn't the case. No matter how much Jay would have loved to be back to the way he was in high school, he wasn't, and he was the one who had to deal with that every single day. He didn't need his dad conveniently forgetting all the time and then making him relive it all.
Pat purses his lips and shakes his head. "You don't need to do that, Jay."
"Do I?" Jay asks, "Because you always seem to forget that I almost died."
"Oh, I know all too well that you almost died," Pat argues, "You do not-"
"You don't, though, you don't!" Jay says, "You keep putting Mouse and I on these impossible jobs-"
"Impossible? Putting down flooring is far from impossible, but if you think it's hard-"
"I don't think it's hard, I just think it's far fetched to think we can do all that work within a few hours."
"I'm sorry for thinking my son could actually do something that makes me proud to have him work for me."
"And I'm sorry for thinking that sacrificing my life for this country was something that would actually make my dad proud."
"Enough!" Carrie yells, "Both of you, enough!"
An eerie silence falls over the table, and Jay's forced to look away from his dad and toward his mom. His hands are so tight around his silverware that they ache and almost feel like they're going to bruise. He's breathing hard, and his throat feels nearly raw from arguing with his father. But none of it is as painful as the look on his mom's face right now.
She's near tears as she glances between her husband and her son. "I can't believe you both," she whispers, "You just fight and fight and fight as if our family was not almost torn apart nearly a year ago. It's disgusting."
"Mom-"
"Care-"
"No," she breathes, "No. I'm done." She stands up and angrily wipes at her face. "Explain to Will yourself why I'm not here. I'll talk to him later tonight. I'm leaving."
"For what?" Pat asks, "You can't just leave without eating."
"I'll find something," Carrie says, "I'm going to yoga, which is apparently just a joke to you both, but I enjoy it. I'll see you later."
Despite the tears in her voice and eyes, she still stops behind Jay's chair and kisses the top of his head, and it's enough to bring him close to tears as well.
"Mom," he quietly tries.
"Jay, not now," she whispers. Without another word, she exits the kitchen and heads up the stairs, leaving Jay and Pat in silence as they listen to her footsteps above them. Minutes later, she's walking back down the stairs and out the front door.
With the slam of the door, Jay winces and takes another rough bite of lasagna.
"Leave."
He looks at his dad and mumbles, "What?"
"Get out," Pat states quietly, "I'll deal with Will, but you need to leave. Grab the food your mother made for you and Greg, and get out."
Part of Jay wants to argue with him. Part of him thinks that he should stay and maybe try to have some sort of conversation about what had happened. Part of him wants to make things better so that there's something positive for his mom to come home to.
But that part loses in the long run.
He doesn't want to be here either. Some things that his dad does are too unforgivable in the moment. He needs to leave.
Without a word, he nods and steps into the kitchen to quickly pack up the food his mom had made. If he didn't grab that, it would lead to a bigger fight than necessary. She was trying to do something nice for her family, and he, instead, brought up some of her darkest memories to throw into her face when he'd really just been trying to get his dad to understand where he was coming from.
He's out of the house in under five minutes.
There is no chance that Mouse is back at the apartment so soon, so he decides to just drive. Being home alone could just lead to him leaving right away and going to drink more than he can handle, and that's the last thing he wants right now. His mom deserves a son better than that, especially since her son had just practically driven her out of her own house.
He doesn't have a real plan, he just needs to move, so he cranks the music on the radio and heads out of Canaryville. He'll deal with the consequences of his words later.
"With every exhale, try and reach closer to your toes. Let your body tell you what you need in this moment."
Hailey closes her eyes as she reaches forward and hooks her hands around her toes. She loves doing yoga and worked hard to get here, but there's nothing like the final few moments where she can stretch out her muscles and just breathe.
"When you're ready, slowly raise your head and prepare yourself for seated meditation."
Hailey can't help but hum as she sits up and folds her legs beneath her. Looking around the darkened room, she slowly smiles at the people around her. Her two best friends are seated not too far away, and they're both in a world of their own.
Vanessa's eyes are closed, and she's slowly rocking side to side as she waits for the guided meditation to begin. She teaches pilates herself, but she still finds the time within her schedule to attend yoga classes and "loosen up" her body.
Kim is a row behind her and still folded forward to touch her toes. Hailey partly suspects she fell asleep in the position, but then Kim takes a deep breath and sits up. As she blinks her eyes against the movement, she sends Hailey a hazy smile, and Hailey knows she was right: her friend had taken the quickest of cat naps.
"I invite you to close your eyes, ground yourself here on your mat, and take a deep breath as we enter our last minute together. Let out everything you brought in here with you and prepare to step out of the studio as a new person."
Hailey winces as she closes her eyes and breathes in slowly. She never loved the script that this studio put in place, but she's been struggling to think of a better way to end the class, and nothing right ever seems to stick.
She's been with this studio since she got out of college. They've been good to her and have offered her many opportunities to grow, but she knows she's ready for bigger and better things. All she needs is for Kim to come through with her connections, and then she can get started on actually making her dreams come true.
"We have reached the end of our time together. Allow yourself to open your eyes when you're ready. Thank you for joining me tonight. Please gather your things, and I hope to see you again soon."
Hailey looks around the room as many of the women begin whispering to each other while standing and rolling up their mats. She smiles at them all and nods her goodbyes as she stands as well.
"Step out as a new person?" Vanessa asks once she's close enough to the front of the room, "I didn't love that."
Hailey rolls her eyes and gently shoves her friend's arm. "Shut up. I didn't know what to say."
Vanessa laughs softly and crosses her arms. "I know. You've got to just look up some ideas online. You don't have to try and be inspirational on your own."
Hailey shrugs and looks around the room. Kim was still seated on her mat, but at least her eyes were open and she seemed to be reacquainting herself with her surroundings. There were a few more women in the back of the room that were talking quietly while preparing to leave, and then there was one woman still sitting with her eyes closed in thought. She recognizes her from the two other yoga classes she leads at this studio throughout the week, so she chooses to leave her for the moment. She might just need the extra quiet time before leaving for the night.
"So I'm wearing those new shorts you told me about, and I kind of hate them," Vanessa says as she turns to study her reflection in the mirror. Stepping closer, she says, "They keep riding up my ass."
"No one's looking, so what's it matter?" Hailey replies, tearing her eyes away from the woman in the back to face the mirror as well.
Vanessa rolls her eyes. "Because it's not exactly comfortable to move into a yogi squat and feel like I'm wearing a thong."
Hailey laughs and turns to look at her own butt in the reflection. "Do they do that to me?"
"No, because your ass is perfect," Vanessa quietly argues, "You also wear underwear for some reason, so that's probably keeping it all in place."
"Then maybe you should try that yourself," Hailey says, "I think you're going to get an infection or something. That can't be comfortable."
Vanessa waves her hand before adjusting the bottom of her shorts. "You're the one trapping all the sweat in."
"Are we talking about how Hailey wears underwear to workout again?"
They turn as Kim approaches them with a smirk on her face.
"Yes," Vanessa says quickly, "Because she told me to try these new shorts, and they're super uncomfortable."
"I'd imagine," Kim says with a nod, "They're a size too small on you. It's all I could look at during class."
Vanessa's eyes widen, and she spins back to Hailey. "I told you!"
Hailey laughs and begins rolling up her mat. "It's fine. I'm sorry for steering you wrong."
"I mean, you look great," Kim laughs, "Is it really that big of a deal?"
"Yeah, it is because I'm supposed to be professional," Vanessa sighs, "These ladies are supposed to be watching what I'm doing, not focusing on what I'm wearing."
"V, they're not watching your ass," Hailey says while bringing her mat over to her bag on the side of the room.
Vanessa rolls her eyes, but otherwise stays quiet. Walking over to the wall of yoga balls, she pulls one down and sits atop it. "We can agree to disagree on that one. What we can do, though, is grill Kim about her homework."
Hailey's eyes light up, and she spins to face her friends. "Did you talk to your parents?"
Kim slowly lowers her water bottle from her mouth and bites her lip over a smile. "I did, but I really don't think I needed to do anything. They were gonna give it to us no matter what."
"Are you serious?" Hailey asks, dropping her bag and putting her hands to her mouth in shock, "Are you…we got the studio?"
Kim laughs and nods quickly. "We got it!"
A quiet squeal of excitement leaves Vanessa's lips, and Hailey finds herself running toward her best friends to hug them tightly. They'd done it.
They were going to have a gym of their own.
Hailey met Kim and Vanessa at their orientation for the University of Chicago. They were all going into business with big ideas on wanting to break out of their pasts. None of them exactly knew what those businesses were going to be, but they knew they wanted to own something to prove that they weren't their parents.
As they started hanging out more each week, they tried joining different clubs and meeting different people to really get the "college experience." What they found, though, was that they were the only people they really got along with. Group projects came and went with others sort of sticking around. Boys entered their lives and then left within months of meeting them all. No one could hold a flame to the friendship that they had already formed.
They also realized, within those first few months of college, that they really enjoyed going to the gym together. Specifically, they enjoyed trying all the group exercise classes that were available. It took them a while, but soon enough they were realizing how good they were at catching on to yoga poses and pilates circuits. They found themselves practicing back in their dorm room and creating their own classes for each other. Not only was it an outlet for their physical energy, but also for their mental health.
Simply put, yoga made Hailey happy. She took that first year of exercising and relaxing with her friends to heart and used it to guide where she wanted to go after college: she wanted to own her own yoga studio.
Vanessa and Kim loved the idea and joined in. Pilates was more Vanessa's thing, so she put in the time to learn how to teach those courses. Kim, on the other hand, didn't know if she actually wanted to teach anything, but took it upon herself to look more into the business side and what kind of loans they would need to get up and running. It helped that her parents were in the real estate business and owned a few empty buildings, so once they were ready to go, they had someone to turn to for a space to use.
Throughout the rest of college, Hailey enrolled within a yoga certification course and began working toward her goal. On and off campus jobs filled any of her rare spare time so that she'd eventually have enough money, combined with Kim and Vanessa's, for their start-up studio. Upon graduation, that continued with teaching yoga and dance at varying levels throughout the city until finally, finally, they could put together a pitch for Kim's parents.
The available space wasn't anything special and would certainly be something they eventually upgraded from, but it was perfect for right now. With a little elbow grease and a fresh coat of paint, they were going to finally achieve what they'd been wanting to do since they were 18.
"Dad said we'll have to find the contractors to fix it up, but he's willing to meet with them to make sure we're not getting screwed over," Kim begins as they all break apart, "I'll start looking at our funds so we can get a start on that. I don't want us to go in the hole right away with this."
"Well, we're kind of already in it once we purchase it," Vanessa says, "What's a couple more thousand?"
Hailey can't help but roll her eyes, crossing her arms. "It's going to be more than a couple thousand. That place needs walls and a functioning bathroom at the very least. Not to mention the equipment we'll need to stock it."
"Hey, hey," Kim interrupts, "Let me worry about the money. We can go out for drinks this weekend and put together mood boards and talk about it then. Today is for celebrating that we've actually got a space and can finally run our own yoga and pilates studio!"
A smile spreads across Hailey's face, erasing the bit of worry that she'd briefly felt. "You're right," she says, "Want to go home and split a bottle of wine?"
"Always," Vanessa answers quickly.
Kim nods and turns away. "Let me just grab my-"
As she stops talking, Vanessa and Hailey follow her gaze to see the woman from earlier just now getting up from her mat and slowly cleaning her area.
"Oh," Hailey says softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought everyone had gone."
The woman looks up and smiles while waving her hand. "It's not a big deal. I was just trying to extend my night. One of those days where it's nicer to be here than at home."
Hailey smiles sadly in understanding and nods. "I'm sorry to hear. Is there anything I can do?"
"Not at all, I'm okay," the woman replies. She finishes stuffing her mat into her bag then straightens up, throwing the bag over her shoulder. "You girls enjoy your night." With a gentle smile and wink, she leaves the studio room, and Hailey feels a light tug on her heartstrings.
"You don't think…" she begins quietly.
"I was right by her," Kim assures with a whisper, already knowing exactly where Hailey's mind is going, "I didn't see anything."
Vanessa nods and squeezes Hailey's elbow. "I can see it on your face. Nothing seemed off to me."
"Yeah, but…"
Hailey sighs and walks over to the door, hoping to see the woman, but she'd already reached her car. Pursing her lips, she shakes her head then hurries over to the computer where everyone had signed in.
"Do you even know her name?" Vanessa asks while walking over.
"Something with a K?" Hailey guesses as she searches through the attendance for the evening.
"Say you do know or figure out her name," Kim gently begins, "What would you do with the information? What's your plan?"
Hailey sighs. "I don't know. I just…I remember when my mom would try staying out longer than usual and…and I can't let that happen to someone else. This is supposed to be a safe place."
"And it is," Vanessa assures. She gently hugs Hailey to her side and murmurs, "You've created a great community for people to lean on when they need to relax, but that might be all this is: a need for her to relax. That's why we come here. Kim pisses me off when she leaves her dishes in the sink, so I come do some yoga and it makes me want to slap her a little bit less. It's normal. It's how families deal with things sometimes: taking time to themselves."
"Bitch," Kim whispers, jumping up to sit on the front desk.
Hailey rolls her eyes and steps back from getting nowhere on the computer. Crossing her arms, she says, "I would just feel horrible if I found out someone in my class needed help and I didn't do anything about it."
"That's not what's happening here," Vanessa replies, "She always comes on time and is friendly to everyone. I truly think she's just a woman who needed a break tonight. She'll most likely be back here on Thursday, so why don't we check in with her then?"
"We don't want to ask her if she's getting hurt," Kim says quickly, "But I see nothing wrong with saying something like 'hey, are things going better today?' or 'are you less tired now?'"
Hailey chews her bottom lip and tries believing they're right. She may just be overreacting tonight. Her friends are certainly being more reasonable than she is. They, though, hadn't grown up with a dad who pushed them around or treated their mom like a punching bag after a night out with his friends. They didn't know that sometimes you do put a brave face on in front of strangers and even friends just to avoid the uncomfortable conversations.
Vanessa lightly bumps her hip to Hailey's and raises an eyebrow when she looks up at her. "We're behind you no matter what," she says softly, "But I'm very confident in thinking that woman is just sick of an annoying pig of a husband and her teenage kids who probably skipped family dinner tonight."
A smile ghosts across Hailey's face as she recognizes the game the three of them began playing years ago whenever they'd need to take a study break in the library or at their favorite coffee shop.
"His name's definitely Murray," Kim says, starting to smile as well, "He retired as soon as he was able. He's not abusive, but he's annoyingly quiet and doesn't discipline the kids at all. So, tonight, when her kids…"
"Michael and Patricia," Vanessa finishes.
Hailey laughs and says, "Really?"
Vanessa shrugs while laughing herself. "It could be real!"
"Yes," Kim laughs, "Michael and Patricia are fifteen and seventeen, and they were supposed to be home at 5 o'clock for their weekly meatloaf dinner, but they got hung up at school at, um-"
"Marching band practice," Hailey finally adds, "Michael plays the tuba. He's kind of odd and sticks to himself, especially at home because everything his mom-"
"Caroline," Vanessa guesses, looking through the list of women for the class on the computer.
"Annoys him," Hailey continues, "And Patricia is the drum major. She's really snooty and thinks she's super cool, but her attitude just makes her standoffish to everyone else."
"She has three piercings in each ear and secretly got her belly button pierced when she turned sixteen," Kim says.
Laughing, Vanessa asks, "Is that even allowed?"
"No idea," Kim says through a laugh of her own, "But that's why it's a secret."
"I like to think that she had a friend do it for her after a football game," Hailey adds.
Vanessa points at her and yells, "Yes!"
"Gross, gross," Kim says while waving her hands around, "No, I can't deal with that."
"Oh, come on, Kimmy!" Vanessa teases, "I'd pierce your belly button!"
"Come near me with a needle, and I will show you what actual, real dirty dishes look like," Kim threatens despite the wide smile on her face.
As laughter erupts from her, Hailey feels her worry over the woman - possibly Caroline - fade away. It was in her nature to overthink anything, and the state of a woman's relationship whom she'd never met was not above that. But thanks to her friends, she had a group of people who helped her see the positives in the world, or at least the silver linings in an otherwise occasionally dark place.
And now that she was about to officially have her own yoga studio, she could try doing that for others. She could teach them that yoga - and Vanessa's pilates classes - could be a positive outlet for people who needed to let go for a little while whether that was from a long day at work or their annoying family.
She could be that person that others needed.
Maybe that was her true goal in life.