Free Live Through This by Mindi Scott Page A

said that then. You don’t have to be Theodore.”
    She goes on as if I hadn’t spoken. “People sometimes don’t like us because of the way Jacob is. Bryan’s our brother, even, and he thinks we’re annoying.”
    “Bryan thinks the whole world is annoying.”
    “Not you . He likes you best ’cause you’re his real sister instead of just a half.”
    She’s right, but I don’t want to agree and hurt her feelings. We lie in silence for several minutes. I can’t tell if she’s awake or not, so I whisper, “If you don’t want to be a karate-mastering, soccer-playing Chipmunk, who do you want to be?”
    “I don’t know,” she whispers back. “Maybe I want to swim.”
    “Like a mermaid in the ocean?”
    She lets out a snort. “No. Like a girl on a swim team.”
    “Gotcha. Are any of your friends on the team? Maybe Mom could check to see if you can carpool with one of them.”
    “That’s a good idea,” she says, yawning loudly.
    “I’m glad you think so. Are you falling asleep now?”
    “I could.”
    “For reals, Em?”
    “For reals.”
    And she’s out. My turn now. If that’s even possible.

CHAPTER 9
    I ’m nearing the end of the meditation portion of my yoga workout, which means I’m lying on my back with my eyes closed. Being calm and letting my thoughts “slip away” like the instructor on the television is telling me to do isn’t easy. The only two TVs in this place happen to be in the fourth-floor master suite and in the living room, so I’m on my mat near where most of the rest of my family is eating breakfast a few feet away.
    Yoga instructor: “Breathe. Relax. Experience the continuous flow of breath from your center . . .”
    Jacob: “. . . checked in the mirror. I got a huge bruise on my butt.”
    Zach: “You were looking at your butt in the mirror?”
    Emma: “Gross!”
    Jacob: “Not as gross as the time you dreamed you were eating chocolate pudding . . .”
    Yoga instructor: “ Close out the rest of the world. Be at one with your inner self . . .”
    Emma: “. . . never happened. You’re so disgusting!”
    Yoga instructor: “Take this time for you  . . .”
    Jacob: “. . . why you make such a big deal out of every little thing?”
    Emma: “Because you bother me.”
    Yoga instructor: “. . . let your practice absorb into your being . . .”
    Tony: “Come on, you two. Give it a rest.”
    Bryan: “Yeah, seriously.”
    I stand, press my hands together, bow my head toward the television, and say along with the instructor, “Namaste.”
    Feeling less calm and centered than I did when I woke up, I roll up my mat and lean it against the back of the couch.
    Mom comes down the stairs in dark jeans and a cashmere sweater.
    “A little overdressed for skiing, don’t you think?” Tony says as he gets up from the table.
    “I’m having my nails done today.” Mom pours herself coffee and dumps hazelnut creamer into it. “I’m going shopping in the Village. Maybe I’ll even see a movie. So no skiing for me.”
    We’ve had five actual days on the slopes and six activity-packedevenings. Everyone’s a little bit tired, a little bit sore, and in Mom’s case, at least, a lot over it.
    Tony places his bowl in the dishwasher and shrugs as if Mom’s announcement didn’t totally stab his micromanaging heart. “I think that’s a great plan, dear. Do what you have to do.”
    “Maybe the kids should take a day off too,” Mom says. “You can go with them up to the tube park or something.”
    Over at the table, the triplets all look at one another with their eyes wide. “No!” Emma says. “We have to go to our lesson.”
    Zach nods. “It’s important .”
    “The most important ever,” Jacob says. “Max promised he’s gonna teach us some tricks!”
    It’s amazing how they can scream at one another one minute, and then have one another’s backs the next.
    Mom puts her hands up in surrender. “All right, calm down. It was just an idea.”
    Tony