Jack

Today is the grand opening of Meredith’s new business: a yoga studio in Cedar Creek’s town square. That’s right, Meredith is bringing the ancient, south Asian practice of yoga to Tiny-town, Texas. She found studio space a year ago when we were walking along the square after dinner. She saw the FOR RENT sign in the window, squashed her face to the glass, and told me her grand vision.

“Front desk there, a small studio on that side, and changing rooms in that back corner.” She turned back to me, eyes gleaming. “JACK! IT’S FATE! Just this morning, Leanna rolled her yoga mat out onto some of Alfred’s poop! We can’t keep practicing in the middle of a field!”

She had her work cut out for her. The space used to belong to a clothing boutique, and Meredith had to completely overhaul it to transform it into a studio.

It’s been hard work, long days that stretched into long nights. She wanted to be involved in every aspect of the business, partly because she couldn’t afford to outsource anything, and partly because she was too stubborn to give up any amount of control to someone else. She’s the sole owner, something I know she’s proud of. I could have helped her with the initial capital, but she wouldn’t budge on that issue. She scrimped, saved, and worked with Dotty on securing a small business loan. I hate that she’s wasting money on interest payments, but there was no convincing her otherwise.

Some aspects of the business came easily: instead of charging a monthly fee, each of her yoga classes will be donation-based. That way there’s no barrier to entry. “Yoga for the people!” as she likes to say.

Some aspects of the business took a little more thought, especially the name. She kept a journal with hundreds of options. She went back and forth on a few favorites, and then one night, while we were lounging on the couch with Alfred at our feet, she turned to me and asked how Blue Stone Ranch got its name. I couldn’t believe I’d never told her. I also couldn’t believe how perfect the timing was. She needed to know the story, and after being together for three years, I had a question I needed to ask her.

In the late 1930s, my grandfather immigrated to the United States from England. He was sixteen, on his own, and dirt poor, but he was determined to make something of himself. Work on the railroad brought him to Central Texas. He liked it here, especially after having spent a few winters up north, and the heat never bothered him like the cold did.

One day, while he was working and laying new tracks, he accidentally dug up a blue topaz. They’re common in this area, but this one was especially large and the color was unique enough that he knew he’d found something special enough to keep. He tucked it in his pocket and forgot about it until he was playing a game of poker later that night with a few guys from the railroad and a few local ranchers. He’d already used up what collateral he had when one rancher decided to up the ante, but he knew he was holding a winning hand. Then he remembered the stone in his pocket. He bet the blue topaz, won the game, and in the end, he walked away with a little bit of cash and a few acres of that rancher’s land. It was hardly worth anything at the time. The soil was rough and infertile, which is why the rancher had bet it in a card game in the first place, but my grandfather saw its potential.

When it was time for his crew to move on to lay the next section of tracks, he quit working for the railroad and stayed in Central Texas. He had that land, but not much else. For two years, he cultivated it, trying to figure out a crop that could handle the clay-filled earth, eventually moving into raising cattle and acquiring more land. It was during those early years that my grandfather met Edith. She lived in the area with her family and he’d had his eye on her for months before he finally worked up the courage to ask her out on a date. Her parents weren’t impressed by a poor immigrant farmer and made their opinions known, but after only a few weeks of dating, Edith loved him just as fiercely as he loved her.

Three months after that first date, he still hadn’t worked out how to make the land flourish. He had no money to buy her a ring, but he had that blue topaz, so that’s what he used to ask Edith for her hand in marriage.

Edith wore that stone on her ring finger every day until she passed it down to me on my one-year anniversary with Meredith. I was ready to marry Meredith then, but I knew she needed more time. So, I gave it to her—two more years. Two more years of us building a life together on the ranch. Two more years of Meredith sinking roots into Cedar Creek. Two more years of that ring burning a hole in my pocket until one night while we lounged on the couch she asked me why Blue Stone Ranch was called Blue Stone Ranch. I told her the story and then I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me.

Two weeks later, she and I got married at the courthouse downtown. She didn’t want to spend a year planning an extravagant day when all she wanted was to be my wife as soon as possible, so we agreed to elope. We planned on it being a small affair with Edith, Helen, and Brent acting as witnesses, but when we arrived, we were shocked to find that it was standing room only in the courtroom. Every ranch hand and employee from Blue Stone had crammed into the small space. Leanna and a few of the other women from Meredith’s weekly yoga group had decorated the room with flowers. Meredith didn’t walk down the aisle toward me; we walked hand in hand through a crowd of our closest family and friends toward the waiting judge. Meredith stood across from me in an altered version of Edith’s wedding gown and we said I do in the shortest ceremony known to man. Everyone whooped and hollered and demanded a second kiss after the first. I dipped her low and she squealed with excitement.

Afterward, we celebrated in the park outside. Our friends have never fessed up as to who did what, but there were mismatched tables and chairs, flowers and decorations, and more alcohol and food than necessary. Every restaurant in the town had donated something so in the end we didn’t have one meal, we had half a dozen: barbecue, hamburgers, pasta, sandwiches, and salad. We had three different wedding cakes from three different bakeries and Meredith enjoyed smashing a bit of every single one in my face while our guests applauded a little too loudly.

Edith tells me Meredith has softened my image, says because she believed I was good and decent, everyone else started coming around to the idea too. Maybe it’s true; I don’t know. We’ve been married seven months and my ranch hands are still pretty scared of me.

“Can you believe this crowd?” Edith asks as I loop my truck onto Main Street and the Blue Stone Yoga sign comes into view.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to find parking.”

“Check around back, see if there’s a spot behind the studio.”

I end up having to block Meredith in, but it shouldn’t matter. She won’t be leaving the yoga studio any time soon anyway. It’s packed when we walk in. Everyone we know is here, even the guys who’ve never attempted yoga a day in their life. Sheriff Pete, Chris, Daniel—they’re all here to support Meredith. She’s turned the grand opening into an all-day event. There’re yoga classes in the back studio, free smoothies and snacks circulate around the lobby, and a bounce-house is set up outside for the kids and kids at heart. Edith bee-lines straight for it.

“Tell Meredith I’ll be inside later!”

It takes me too long to make my way back to Meredith. I get pulled in a million different directions, greeting everyone I pass. Finally, finally, I see her chatting with Helen, Dotty, and Leanna behind the front desk.

They’re all oohing and aahing over her baby bump. I think I was happier than she was when it really became noticeable. Every morning for the last six months, she would turn sideways and ask me point blank, “If you didn’t know me, would you think I look pregnant?” and every day until recently, I would lie and exaggerate. “Oh yeah, definitely—watch where you point that big ol’ belly.”

She spots me approaching and her face lights up. She excuses herself from the group and meets me halfway, where I press my hand to her stomach and lean down to kiss her.

“How’s he doing?”

She beams. “Good. Moving like crazy! If you leave your hand there for a little while, you’ll feel him. I think he’s as excited about today as I am.”

I smile, and sure enough, a second later, I feel a little thump against my palm.

“There! He just did it again,” she says, eyes alight with wonder.

“He was giving his pop a high five.”

She laughs and tips up on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Are you staying for a while?”

I had some things I needed to do on the ranch earlier, which is why I’m arriving a little late. “Until you leave.”

She eyes my workout clothes. “Does that mean you’re going to take a class?”

I nod. Admittedly, yoga wasn’t my thing when Meredith and I first started dating, but she’s convinced me to come around. I still get my down dogs confused with my up dogs, but I’m a hell of a lot closer to touching my toes than I was a year ago.

“Are you teaching soon?”

She’s my favorite teacher, and not just because she’s my wife.

She checks the clock mounted on the wall behind the desk. “I have a pre-natal class in forty-five minutes.”

“All right, I’ll man the desk for that one.”

She grins. “Don’t worry, I’m teaching a flow class right after.”

We’re interrupted soon after that. Everyone wants to say hello and feel her bump and congratulate her on the grand opening. Cedar Creek has really shown up to support her. Every class is full and Meredith is shocked by the turnout, though she shouldn’t be.

The next few months are going to be tough for us. She’ll have to take time off when Noah is born, but Edith and Helen have already volunteered to take shifts at the studio helping out as much as possible. On top of that, Meredith has trained a manager and four additional yoga instructors. She’ll be able to tackle a lot of the day-to-day operations from home, and I’m not worried. I’ll be taking time off too, and I can handle baby duty when she needs to come into the studio—I don’t expect her to put her dreams on hold to raise our son. I fully expect that he’ll end up growing up inside this studio. His first steps will probably take place on a mat somewhere in this lobby, and I’m okay with that. In fact, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

It feels like we’re right in the middle of the good part of life, the part you usually don’t realize you’re in until it’s over. We have so much to look forward to that I keep wanting to jump ahead. I can’t wait to be a father. I can’t wait to raise Noah with Meredith. I can’t wait to take him down to the creek and teach him how to do a backflip off the rope swing. I can’t wait to see Meredith pregnant with our second child, and possibly a third if I can convince her it’s a good idea. If I brought it up to her now while she’s still pregnant with this first one, she’d probably sock me square in the jaw.

I’m not worried though. Wherever our path takes us, I know we’ll always have each other. After all, I made that promise to her way back when she first came to the ranch. I told her if she wanted us, if she wanted to make a deal, Edith and I could be her people.

Even though I’ve been described as a devil by more than a few people, the name does have one redeeming quality: when you make a deal with me, you know I’ll keep my word, forever.