A Furious Chick

Yoga

Kaleb

"Thirty five. Forty. Forty five. Fifty. Fifty five. Sixty." I counted, tapping my knee in between each number. I spoke loudly to my yoga class.

I was trying a new anxiety method I read somewhere. Counting, tapping, breathing. Mind on the counting, breathing with every tap and tapping with your soul away from your body. I seemed to enjoy it. I'll get feedback next Thursday from this group.

The class ended after our Mediation Segment and everyone wrapped up their mat and left. Most of the people I teach are recovering or successfully a sober soul. Me? Seven years since I've had alcohol. Do I miss it? Mostly at night when I'm alone in my house and my mind is racing with my sister, my mom, my failed relationship....Nobody. Everything comes rushing in at once and it's weighs on my heart.

The gym door opened but I was too busy turning off my stereo to even bother looking up. I believed I knew who it was.

"Jerry! You forget that damn shoe everyday!" I called out. Jerry is one of the newer recruits. Seven months clean of heroin. He's a good guy. Just lost.

I heard footsteps approaching me. Running. My body reacted before my mind. I spun around, yanked my leg up and thrusted forward. A fist hit me in the jaw. The connection of the fist left my whole body feeling whole. Katherine. I threw a fist that connected to her stomach and she stumbled back, laughing.

"Lovely greetings." I held my arms open to that idiot.

Katherine jumped in my arms and held me close. I missed her beyond everything. Feeling her so close made me feel complete.

"My ex alcoholic, assassin brother is a Yoga Instructor. What the fuck?" She mocked.

"I'm a new man." I sniffed. "Did you bring my darlings?"

"They're in the car." Kat pushed her hair back.

I ran outside, to her car and saw them all back there. Brooke and Quinn were arguing. Ruby and Jonathan were coloring.

"UNCLE KAY!"

The love I got from them as they began screaming my name. I've missed them. My recovery is credited to them.

"How's my little troublemakers?" I spoke and signed. "You little ladies being nice to Jonathan?"

"I got a gold medal in nastics." Brooke stated proudly.

"THERE'S MY LITTLE PRETZEL."

"I'm sure you're aware of the fact the team is going up against the Paris base."

"Le meurtrier." I turned to her. "I have."

"And what are you planning on doing?"

"Teaching Yoga." I shrugged.

"They don't understand how deadly the French fight. How brutal this could get. I refuse to be the wife that receives news that my husband died in the line of battle while I was home baking cookies."

"Or doing something more important, putting the kids to sleep."

"Kaleb." She began.

"Seven years. Seven, Katherine. You've been out for seven years. You have four kids, you make tiny tacos and decorate children rooms. You make love to your husband. You take car rides. You own two houses."

"Your point?" She frowned.

"My point is that you are not Katherine Howard anymore." I threw my hands up. "You gave that up. Don't let Brian be the reason you give up everything you worked for. You're smarter than that."

"I'm going to protect my husband." She walked to the driver side. "I would hope you wouldn't rat on me considering no one knows I'm here."

I felt pressure on my chest, my mind swirling. My sister has a good life now. She's finally at her peek of happiness. Why must she have to drop everything and run into battle? Why her?! I couldn't let her go alone. I couldn't. We may not live like Howard's anymore in terms of fighting but we do have a thick band of loyalty to each other that nothing could break. And if my sister is fighting, so am I.

"I guess I could ask my colleague to cover my classes for a little bit." I sighed, cracking my neck.

"Kaleb, your not a Howard any longer, either." She paused, opening the door.

"No. I'm not. But I am still your twin brother. And we do things together, no matter what."

"No matter what."