Sixteen
“Draw your hands up in front of you in prayer pose. Stay for the exhale.”
Pausing in the doorway leading to the large wraparound deck, Carey couldn’t help but let out a long, slow breath in unison with the yoga students who stood feet together, palms held in front of their chests.
He rolled his eyes at himself even as a pang went through him. Yoga in the pines. How Jase would love this.
“Inhale, and on your next exhale,” the yogi continued softly, “bend your knees and come into chair pose.”
Cradling his mug of coffee in his hands, Carey leaned against the doorjamb, watching. The early-morning yoga practice was well-attended, almost every mat taken.
“Reach up overhead, rolling those shoulders open…”
At the other end of the deck, a different yoga class was happening—acro yoga,
