YESA
I WAKE UP AT FOUR in the morning to write my list. Lucky is curled up at my side, still fast asleep. He doesn’t even budge when I reach to grab a pen and paper and flip on my reading light. It’s not a bucket list if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s what I’m calling my happy list. It’s a list of things I want to do that make me happy. Some are small and simple, like going to yoga class (now that Trish has me hooked). Others are enormous, like number nine. It’s not a checklist. It’s a list I want to live by for the rest of my life. To an outsider, I might look scared or sad because I ran away from my own wedding, but I don’t feel that way at all. I feel more alive than I’ve ever been and I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.
Trish and Eddie will be leaving soon, traveling the country in their RV. Lucky and I will not be accompanying them on their journey. We have a journey of our own to embark on. Anyway, I have my teaching job and I’m starting my new business inspired by Lucky. It’s an in home pet-sitting business for when pet guardians go out of town and can’t bring their pets with them. Instead of boarding their pet at a noisy kennel, pets can stay in their own homes and I come to them several times a day, to keep them as close to their normal routine as possible. On the side I’m offering dog walking services too; for those who work long hours or have to be gone for the day and their dog needs to get some exercise. I’m the one to call for the job. I’ll get to be around pets all of the time and I’ll be helping pet parents. They will be able to leave their pets at home, worry free and return home to happy pets. I can’t imagine anything better. I’ve purchased my insurance for the business and have my pet CPR certification and other details in place. I’m building a website and creating flyers and marketing materials to spread around town. I’ve spoken with the local animal shelter and rescue groups to ask them to place my pet sitting flyers in their adoption kits. Local realtors are going to share my flyers with their pet loving clients too. I know in my bones that my business will be a success and I’m bursting at the seams to tell the world about it. But right now my world consists mostly of Trish and Eddie. They know I’ve been working on something, but I haven’t shared the details with them yet. After everything that’s happened over the last four-months (since I ran out on my own wedding), and now after a day of apartment hunting, I am set on the name of my business. No Place Like Home Pet Sitting and Dog Walking Service. Because I can’t think of a better place to be than home. Home is a place where you know you’re safe and loved. My home has been a mini-couch in an RV and I wouldn’t trade this time or space for anything. Home is the best place in the world. It doesn’t matter where it is or what it looks like, but there should be nothing better. So I can’t think of a more fitting name for my business venture.
It’s December now and I’m hoping to start working with my first few clients this month. With all of the hustle and bustle of the holidays and travel plans, I think it will be a great month to start. My plan is to build the business through referrals. If I do a good job, I know I can grow. I’ll be on winter break for several weeks this month from teaching, and after that, I’ll take appointments around my teaching schedule. I have holidays, weekends and evenings free. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll hire an assistant. Maybe one day I’ll be able to pursue my business full time. For now, I have my own little furry guy who’s ready to go for a run. I look at the clock and realize I’ve been daydreaming about my happy list for nearly two hours. It’s six in the morning, time to throw on my sneakers and grab Lucky’s leash before I head off to another day of teaching. I stumble to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I’m done, I lace up my running shoes; Lucky is spinning in circles with excitement. He’s the best sleeper in the world, but when it’s time to head outside, he’s ready to go. I glance up at the front of the RV and see that the window is covered in white. I smile like a child on a snow day. We might have a school delay with the surprise of winter. Either way, I’m heading outside to play with Lucky by my side. I tuck my hands into my sleeves, clip Lucky’s leash to his collar and head out the door. I’m taking care of number seven and number eight on my list at the same time. Lucky pounces his front paws into a thin layer of snow as we begin to run. His black nose has turned white. Trish always tells me I changed Lucky’s life the day I saved him, but I think he’s changed mine. As we run along the deserted road I study the pine trees that tower above us, each one holding a thin layer of snow. I feel like I have stepped into one of Bob Ross’s perfect paintings. Just a girl and a dog running through a snow covered park on an early December morning. Lucky’s tail wags with excitement. My stomach flip-flops thinking about my new business, thinking about all that is to come. Thinking about how much has changed because of one decision. What if I would have stayed? What if I would have married him? When I ran into Jordan at the grocery store a few months back, I knew without a doubt in my mind that I had made the right decision. But it still scared me to my core to think I could have stayed. I could be living a completely different life; an existence of confinement and suffocation. I didn’t have my happy list then, but I’m glad I have it now. I’m glad I made the decision I did. I’m glad I didn’t compromise who I am to become someone everyone else wanted me to be. I can’t imagine where I’d be right now if I hadn’t run. I don’t ever want to go there.
I tell myself to focus on what’s real, what’s here and now. I shake away the thoughts of what could have been, thankful that it wasn’t that way and I watch Lucky run ahead of me. His paw prints are stamped in the snow. It’s coming down so heavy now that it’s filling my eyelashes with its weight. I wipe my eyes with my hands and quickly tuck them back into my sleeves to stay warm. If Lucky is phased by the cold he doesn’t show it. We round the next bend and I watch as a family of deer stand with elegance in the beams of sunlight breaking through the trees. I’ll miss running here when Lucky and I move into our new apartment. I’ll miss Trisha and Eddie when they’re gone. I’ll even miss sleeping on that tiny couch in the RV. It’s become my home. I used to think that life would be so simple once I became an adult. It’s been anything but simple. I always strive to have a stable life, a life that everyone dreams of. But now I realize, I’m not everyone and life is not stable, it’s completely unpredictable. Ironically, it’s the unpredictable parts that have been the most enlightening; the most altering; the most amazing.
Although it is snowing, a mile has gone by rather fast. We’ve been doing this for a while now, so we’re probably both in better shape. As we return to the RV, I see the front windshield is completely covered in snow. I know Eddie and Trish aren’t awake yet, but they’ll be in for a surprise when they are. Trish will be able to capture some amazing photos in this weather.
I’m not quite ready to head back inside and throw on my teaching clothes. I bend down to unclip the leash from Lucky’s collar and pat him on the head. “Good job today little buddy.” I smile before I fall to the ground. I lay my head back in the white snow and move my arms and legs to make a snow angel. I’m sure if anyone sees me, I’ll look like a total lunatic, but I don’t care. I open my mouth to taste the crisp snow that is still falling from above and I watch as Lucky plops down on the ground next to me, rolling onto his back, all four legs held up in to the air. I’m really hoping school is cancelled due to the weather; as the two of us play in the snow I tell myself I’m going to call in sick if it’s not. I need to sign the apartment lease today and more than that, Lucky and I need a day to play; a day to appreciate all that we have. My dad once told me that we are each of the choices we’ve made. He said it to me when I came home from junior high and showed him my math test; I’d gotten a D. He might have been trying to parent me with tough love, but I realize his words ring true now more than ever. We are the sum of the choices we’ve made, and tomorrow we’ll be the sum of even more choices.
I HEAR THE FLOP OF MY SNOW boots hitting the pavement as we walk into the yoga studio. Trish and I are both carrying our yoga mats; mine is pink, hers is red. I snicker to myself at the realization that I have my own yoga mat. We’ve arrived a few minutes early and take our time walking in. The snow has stopped since this morning, leaving behind several inches of its fluffy white aftermath on the ground.
“What did you do to enjoy your snow day?” Trish turns toward me and smiles, her yoga mat held by a thin black rope bobbing behind her back as we shuffle through the snow.
Pressing my lips together I tell her the news. She already knows about my pet sitting business. But this news is bigger. This news means I’m moving off the couch in her RV and I know once I tell her that Trish will be wondering the same thing I am. Will we still keep in touch once she and Eddie leave? I push of lock of fallen hair from my forehead and look back at her. “I found an apartment for myself and Lucky.” I smile. I am excited and sad at the same time. I can’t live on her couch forever, but I’ll miss this, whatever it is. I guess normal people call it being sisters. I’ll miss that. I don’t want it to change, but it feels like it will. “I move in the day after Christmas. So there’s still a little time and we can spend Christmas day together.” My parents haven’t spoken to me since our phone conversation months ago. They hate what I’ve done to their reputation; a runaway bride. They seem to have come to terms with the fact that Trish will never be a puppet of a daughter, but me, they had their hopes that I would fulfill those wishes, for them. And I failed. I can’t say I’ve tried to contact them either. There are so many modes of connection, but neither of us has reached out even once. I refuse to chase after them, trying to win their approval or love. I’m just living my life. They’re the ones that are missing out by blocking me from their lives. I’m grateful to have Trish. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without her.
Trish nods, accepting the news. “I’m going to miss you little sis.” I can’t remember her ever calling me little sis. But it’s what I am, who we are. “I’m glad you have Lucky.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ll miss you too. But I’ll be fine. I’ll make new friends. Promise, big sis.” I wink as we reach the doors of the yoga studio and step inside, kicking the snow from our shoes and breathing in the warmth.
“Oh, I’m not worried about you. I’m excited for you! My little Yesa is all grown up. I’m looking forward to traveling around with Eddie in our RV, but a part of me wants to stay put too, because I want to stay near you. You’re starting a business and you just have so much ahead of you. Promise me you’ll stay in touch. We can call and email every day.” We’re both sitting on a bench in the narrow hall outside of the yoga classroom. I plop my boots beneath the bench and Trish does the same.
“Thanks for saying that. And not to be corny, but thanks for believing in me.” I stand to hang my winter coat on the rack behind us and then sit back down on the bench next to Trish, waiting for the instructor to emerge and tell us to enter the studio. A few additional people file into the hall and begin taking off their snow covered boots and preparing for class, too. “You are going to have the time of your life traveling in that RV, and let me tell you, the couch isn’t that bad if you ever need it for a nap. It’s pretty cozy.”
Trish tells me about some of the stops they have planned. They want to go to the Outer Banks in North Carolina, out west to Yellowstone, Seattle, Grand Canyon and up to New England to visit Rhode Island and the east coast. I’m a little envious, but I know my life is here and now my business is here, too. I feel like we should do something to celebrate all of the adventures that are heading our way. Not as a good-bye, but rather as a good luck. The yoga instructor emerges in front of all of us now waiting in the narrow hall. Nearly fifteen of us are sitting on the bench, chatting with each other in bare feet and tight pants. She invites us into the studio and says that class will begin in five minutes. She tells us to bring our mats and to be sure and grab a block, a belt and a bolster as she points to a wall of shelves on the far side of the yoga studio. We all stand, begin to file into the studio and turn our chatting into soft whispers. I feel the wooden floor boards creaking beneath my bare feet as we enter.
“Let’s get ice cream after class, just the two of us.” Trish leans toward me and I feel my mouth begin to water at the thought. I am hungry and ice cream sounds good. The perfect way to celebrate all that is to come, for both of us.
We take our places, sitting with our legs in pretzels on our yoga mats. The room has exposed brick walls, shiny hardwood floors, dim lighting and four vanilla scented candles glowing behind the instructor who sits facing us with her hands in prayer position in front of her heart, her eyes soft and focused on the ground. Once everyone is quiet and still, the instructor who looks to be in her early thirties, slim and incredibly fit, begins the practice. “Oscar Wilde said, be yourself, everyone else is taken. I would like you to take a moment and absorb this statement. Be yourself, everyone else is taken. What does it mean to be you? For a moment, let’s drop the labels – mother, sister, wife, nurse – whatever those labels may be for you, drop them now. Who are you without the labels?” She pauses for a moment and then continues, “Let’s take a moment before we begin our practice. Silently set an intention for yourself. Once you consider who you are without the labels, what is your intention for this practice? It can be something along the lines of finding relaxation during your evening or perhaps it might be allowing yourself to be happy. Whatever you decide your intention is for this practice, set it now and keep it with you throughout the hour.” We sit for another few minutes in silence and then stand to begin our sun salutations, vinyasas and so forth. I set my intention to focus on gratitude, but to be honest, in the back of my mind, my stomach is begging for the ice cream that is to come.
WE HEAD TO THE Frozen Spoon after yoga class. Our parents took us here anytime we celebrated any achievement. My favorite kind of ice cream is called chocolate heaven. The shop is packed, as usual and we stand in line waiting for our turn to order. If you think you don’t like ice cream in the winter, you haven’t been here. When we reach the register Trish orders first and gets a double scoop of corn-on-the-cob ice cream. I laugh, thinking how ridiculous of an ice cream flavor it is. But then I remember we’re celebrating. What the heck. I order two scoops, one of my favorite chocolate heaven, the second scoop of corn-on-the-cob. I’m not sure that I’ll like it, but I may as well give it a try. It’s my treat, a small token of my appreciation for all that Trish has done. Once we have our ice cream in hand, we’re craning our necks, searching the room for an empty table for two. Everything is full and so we decide to stand against the wall and wait for something to open up.
“I forgot! I’m going to get a bottle of water. I’ll be right back.” Trish hands me her dish of ice cream and I make my way to the wall while taking my first lick of corn-on-the-cob ice cream; not bad. Pleasantly okay, actually. I decide to stop at the counter and grab a handful of napkins before I find a place against the wall. As I press Trish’s dish of ice cream and my cone into my left hand and reach for the napkins with my right, I hear a splat.
“Oh no!” I blurt, watching my top scoop of ice cream fall to the floor. Before I can bend down someone steps in the blob and grabs tightly onto my arm, trying not to fall. “Oh my gosh!” I’m quite aware that I’m about to cause a huge domino effect with my spill. What remains of the cup and cone of ice cream are now in my left hand, while I reach to squeeze the stranger’s arms with my right. The moment my hand touches his I feel a jolt of electricity rush through my veins. The world seems to stop, despite the crowd of people surrounding us and as our eyes meet and my stomach flip-flops back and forth. I open my mouth to say something, to apologize, but nothing comes out.
He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just ice cream.” He lets go of my arm and I drop my hand back to my side as he reaches toward the counter to grab a pile of napkins. He bends down to wipe his shoes as I stand dumbfounded in front of him, watching him clean up the mess I made. He moves effortlessly and tosses the soiled napkins into the trash and then bends down once more to wipe his shoes again before standing up. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, are you all right?” He’s trying to console me and it feels backwards.
I giggle nervously and shift my weight from one foot to the other. People are rubbing the sides of my arms as they squeeze by carrying their ice cream cones. Our eyes meet and he holds my gaze despite the chaos. I feel a zap of energy rush through my bones and my heart seems to stop. I don’t know why I can’t make myself speak. His eyes have some kind of hold on me and I can’t look away. I’m like a fly who’s just realized they’re caught in a spider’s web, unable to move. Okay, maybe that’s not the best analogy. The fly is on his way to death and he knows it. I feel like – well, buzzing. I am buzzing. I don’t know how else to put it. You can tell by my words, my brain is turning to mush and I’m helpless to stop it. Oh, wait, he’s waiting for an answer to his question. I shake my head, still unable to speak. And then somehow I manage to say, “I’m so sorry.” I bite the side of my lip and feel my face grow pink.
His hair is blonde, cut short and his blazing blue eyes are cutting through me to my core. I like it. He chuckles again and places his hand on my shoulder. “Really, it’s okay. No worries.” He assures me. He looks around and I wonder if he’s looking for his date. I don’t want his hand to leave my shoulder. I don’t want him to stop looking at me.
“There you are! Got the waters.” I’ve forgotten I’m here with Trish when she reappears through a group of ice cream eaters, holding two bottles of water in the air, feeling victorious.
Without thinking, I turn to the stranger who somehow I feel I’ve known longer than two minutes and I laugh. “I dropped the ice cream and had a little run in.” I’m trying to be casual, but I don’t think it’s working. My voice sounds all sing-songy and weird.
Despite my awkwardness, the stranger waves at Trish. “I’m Travis.”
“This is Travis.” I repeat and I am sure I am only making myself look more foolish at this point. What am I, a parrot?
Trish looks back and forth between the two of us. My face is hot and I want to press the dish of ice cream up against it to cool off, but I resist the urge. “Nice to meet you Travis.” She looks at me and winks. “And this is my little sister, Casey. But those who love her call her Yesa.”
I feel like I should want to kill her, but I really want to hug her. At this moment I swear I have the best sister in the world. I will have to tell her thank you later. But right now I’m paralyzed and longing for Travis’s eyes to meet mine again. The three of us stand together quietly, each with a smirk across our face. No one really knows what to say next.
“Okay, I’m going to grab that open table over there. Yesa, feel free to join me when you’re ready.” She reaches to pluck her cup of ice cream from my hand and presses the cold bottle of water against my hot face. She knows me too well. I close my eyes for a second, taking in the coolness. But then I hear her say something as she cheerily trots away. “Travis, good to meet you. She’s single, you know. Feel free to give her your number.” I can’t look at her. I’m mortified. But then I feel his hand on my arm again and my eyes somehow meet his. I feel lightheaded. Maybe the corn-on-the-cob ice cream isn’t agreeing with me. I know that’s not really it, but I try to tell myself it is.
I watch, still stunned from Trish’s graceful exist. Travis walks up to the counter and the girl behind the register hands him an ink pen. He comes back to me, I haven’t moved an inch and I’m still dumbly holding my ice cream cone, with one good scoop remaining. For a moment, I realize I am thankful the corn-on-the-cob scoop of ice cream was the one to fall. I still have my scoop of chocolate heaven to enjoy. Travis reaches for my hand and I think I will faint when he turns my palm face up. He uses the pen to write his phone number and then pushes my fingers closed around it. “Yesa.” He smiles, tossing the word around in his mouth. I grab the pen from him and then reach for his hand and write my number on his palm.
I somehow find the ability to move my legs and walk away before I can say anything stupid; not that I haven’t already made a fool of myself. I’m not exactly good at the whole flirting thing. I look back, careful not to trip on my own feet, and find his eyes through the crowd. They are still on me and it feels like a match has been lit inside of me. I’ve heard stories about people meeting their soul mates and knowing it in the very first instant. Honestly, I never really believed those stories. I just thought people told them because they wanted to believe in them. But right now I’m changing my mind. Right now I believe them. Because right now I’ve just had one of my own. It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. I have to see Travis again. I find my way to the table where Trish is sitting. She’s finished her ice cream and is smiling at me like she has a secret. I sit, still stunned and look at her from across the table. “You’re good.” It’s my way of thanking her. I don’t know what else to say.
She takes her plastic spoon and flips it into her bowl. “I know.” She winks. “So, did you exchange digits or what?” She wants to hear the good stuff.
I nod and open my hand to show where he’s written his number. Her eyes widen and as I follow her gaze and look at the palm of my hand, I realize he’s written more than just his telephone number. Meet me here, tomorrow at 8. I gulp and look back at my ice cream. Chocolate heaven can’t compare to the words scrolled across my hand. This night has been quite the celebration for what’s yet to come.