Free COOL BEANS by Erynn Mangum

instead.
    Calvin smoothly sits up.
    I just stare, open mouthed.
    My cell phone rings right then.
    “Yes?”
    “Honestly, Maya, it’s like I never taught you any manners for answering the phone.”
    “Mom, the weirdest thing is going on! I’m doing Pilates and — ”
    “Don’t tell me. You got fuzz in your eye again.”
    “No! I — ”
    “Your mouth? Your nose?”
    “Mom, listen to me for a second!”
    “Okay, what?”
    “Calvin is doing Pilates! He’s doing exactly what the lady says to do!”
    Long silence. “Maya …”
    “Yes, Mom?”
    Again, silence.
    Finally, I hear her sigh. “It’s not worth it. Listen, Maya, I was calling for a reason, actually.”
    I pause the Pilates. “Go ahead,” I tell her.
    “Roo!” Calvin protests from the Down Dog position.
    “Hush,” I hiss at him.
    “I’m calling to tell you some of Zach’s news, actually,” Mom says. “One of the reasons he was here this week was for an interview at the San Diego Children’s Hospital. And he just found out he got the job. I guess both he and Kate were ready to come back to California. He starts in two weeks.”
    I am having trouble wrapping my brain around this fact.
    Did I or did I not just tell Jack this morning how great it wasthat Zach and I were getting along and how I thought it was due to the distance?
    Funny, Lord.
    Sometimes, I find God’s timing to be the most hysterical thing on the face of the earth.
    “Two weeks, huh?”
    “Yep. He’s starting as the head of the Neonatal ICU. Isn’t that exciting?” Pride rings in Mom’s voice, and I catch a little tiny stab of jealousy in my lower abdominals.
    Jealousy or pain. Those scissor crunches will kill you.
    “Cool.”
    “I think this is wonderful. Both of my kids back in California! We can all have dinner together every Sunday night again!”
    I feel bad that Mom’s so excited and I’m so not.
    Now I’ll have to feel inconsequential and awkward every single Sunday night.
    Whoop-de-do.
    “Okay, well, I just wanted to let you in on what is going on. I love you, sweetie. Have a good day!” She hangs up.
    I turn off the TV and go to my room. Grabbing my Bible, I flounce on the bed.
    Okay, Lord. I’m sorry I feel like this, but I don’t know how to stop it.
    I flip open the Bible and turn to 1 Thessalonians. “Rejoice always.”
    I know, God. But good grief! Travis and Zach in one week? Couldn’t we space out the men who make me nuts coming back into my life?
    “Pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks.”
    I reach for a sticky note.
    Reasons I Can Still Be Thankful:
    1. Calvin appears to be wise beyond his breed. Maybe this is a new entrepreneurial enterprise: Canine Pilates.
    2. Jack gave me flowers.
    3. I have yet to see Travis since our first meeting.
    4. Zach got a better position at work. I can be happy for him.
    5. God is still in control. God is still in control. God is still in control.

CHAPTER SIX
    Every Wednesday night, the college/young singles class has a Bible study that meets at Cool Beans. We close early, which doesn’t mean much because we do way more business with the college group than we ever do on a normal weeknight at nine o’clock.
    Andrew always shows up a few minutes early and moves the chairs and sofas into a huge circle. Sometimes I help. Sometimes I just watch. Like tonight.
    “That looks more ovally than circley.” I say this sweetly, a half-dried huge ceramic coffee mug in one hand, a towel in the other. I’m standing behind the counter in my brand-new work shoes that are killing my feet.
    “Only people who help get a say in what shape the chairs are in,” Andrew retorts, nudging another chair into the circle with his shin. “Can I get my usual, Maya?” He Frisbee-throws me a Visa.
    I barely catch it. “Decaf or regular?”
    “Regular. It’s a long lesson.”
    “Swell.”
    “Don’t sound so excited, Maya.” Andrew grins at me and comes over to watch as I start steaming a bucket-sized mug ofwhat will soon