We Go Down (Bremmy 2)

Chapterish 56

| SEATTLE |

GO ZEN YOURSELF

It's been three days and, unsurprisingly, I've heard zero words from Brooks. Radio silence. If radios were still a thing. Looking at you, Cusack.

Zöe tried talking me into using some dating apps, but that's a digital world I'm not long for. Not right now, anyway.

It's been the strangest feeling -like waking up from a dream. I was waiting for shit to hit the fan and splatter all over everything. Now I can stop waiting. Shit = splattered.

Now I can focus on everything else I've been neglecting on the backburner.

That's what I'm doing. I look at the pseudo kitchen table in my loft, now black and white and colored with twenty different real estate listings.

"How about this one?" Zöe asks, holding up a sheet.

"Meh. Too residential."

"That's what you said about the last one," Zöe sighs.

"Well they are both too far from downtown," I shrug.

"And this one?" She holds up another.

"Too rundown. No face lift could save that place. Stop picking duds," I tell her, pulling one of my favorite listings toward me.

It's a smaller space than Go Zen's OG studio, though not by much. It's near the water downtown, and it's a second-floor unit, so the views are killer.

"Why are we spending so much time looking, when that's clearly your favorite?" Zöe crosses her arms.

"Because it's clearly too over budget," I answer.

"Get what you pay for," she says, matter-of-fact. "Oh, lighten up, would you? We already spent hours poring over the books. You know there's some wiggle room, especially if-."

"-If we move to online?" I finish for her, having heard her say it one million times.

"Exactly. Now you get it. Everyone's doing it. Do you've any idea how many people ask if we have an online subscription?" Zöe's eyes are alight with passion, which I do appreciate. More than she knows.

"I know," I sigh.

"Plus it doesn't need to stop at online classes. Of course, we could livestream classes, but also post vegan recipes and I still think we should sell merch. We could certify people -Ooh we could do yoga retreats!"

"Ok Ok!" I put my hand up, rolling my eyes.

"OK as in yes?" Zöe's eyes bulge.

"You win. Let's do it all," I nod. "But baby steps. We can't go jetting off on a yoga retreat."

"Yet." Zöe grins.

"Calm down. Let's start with the online platform," I say, turning my laptop to face Zöe. Go Zen's homepage is already pulled up.

"Deal."

My phone lights up. I slide it from the table to see new messages in our girl chat Babes n Hoes.

Don't ask.

It's just Trix and Meg asking something about what color shoes I'm wearing to the wedding.

Gold, obvi ;)
Unless you got other ideas <3

No sooner do I put my phone down that it buzzes with an incoming call from mom.

"Hi mom," I say into the phone.

"Emmy, honey! Finally, have you been screening me?" My mom goes off on a rant.

I roll my eyes to Zöe and excuse myself from Go Zen's future plans. I cross the room and plop myself down on my bed, staring at the rain through the mullioned windows.

"Yes, mom, I'm fine." I sigh, exasperated. "Wedding is the same date. April 30th. Hasn't changed since the last three times you've asked me."

Zöe answers the door and pays for our Greek takeout. The delivery boy accepts his tip and shakes his shaggy hair full of rain in our hallway.

I roll my eyes.

I join Zöe at the counter and put my phone on speaker and put it down. I unload our dinner as Zöe grabs 2 water bottles from the fridge.

"Yes, I'm coming back to Seattle after the wedding. OK maybe I'll look at flights to Philly."

"OK good. Your father and I will pay for the flight-" My mom rambles on.

"You don't need to pay for my flight," I sigh. "Food just came. Can I call you back later?"

"Later? Honey it's almost midnight here. Sometimes I think you forget-" She says.

"Ok, bye! Love you!"

I tap the speaker on my phone to end the call.

"Just my nightly check up from the rents," I explain.

"Going home again?" Zöe asks, an edge in her voice, as she crunches down on her falafel wrap.

"Parents are bribing me with free flights," I tell her. "But don't worry. I'm not."

"What a relief," she says. "Not letting you skirt off on our Go Zen plans that easily."

"Yea, yea thanks for keeping me in check," I grin, unfolding my meatless gyro. "Now pass me the tzatziki."

We finish eating and spend another half hour reviewing our check lists for Go Zen's online expansion. Zöe drafts up a mock 'subscribe now' button, only it says Go Zen Yourself.

Sure.

After promising Zöe that I will, in fact, be at the studio at 6 AM and that we can of course resume discussions then, she finally leaves my loft. I'm left with just myself, which is dangerous company.

Looking for something to do, I clear off the table and toss the takeout trash back into the brown bag it came in. I pull my long-sleeve on and slip into my moccasins. I leave my phone behind. No need for it tonight.

Seattle's April air isn't too chilly, but my recently tan skin feels oddly freezing in the 60 degree night. I'm used to 100. The streetlight buzzes above me, its light flickering, as my feet stumble across the uneven pavement. I walk to the side of the building and flip the dumpster lid open. City smells < Island Aromas.

I shake my head clear, casting all thoughts of my Caribbean getaway aside. There's no moon tonight, and no stars, but it's certainly bright. I round the block several times, passing couples walking dogs, women jogging, and kids out playing way past their bedtimes.

I've been living in Seattle for almost a decade, but it's only just now hitting me that I barely know it.

"Do you want something? We close in 3 minutes." A woman clicking gum waves her hands in front of me.

"What?" I ask.

She comes into focus, wearing her apron and holding a menu-board in her hands.

"Did you want something?" She says again, tightening the her bright pink hair into a ponytail.

I realize I'm standing on the curb out front of my favorite coffee bar. The waitress is eyeing me suspiciously as she wipes down the three tables on the sidewalk.

"No thanks," I say, continuing past the dimly lit shop.

Twenty minutes later, I decide I coulda fucked with a coffee. I wish I had my phone with me. Maybe I'd entertain Zöe's suggestion of app-dating. Anything to pass the time.

One more loop brings me past the vegan spot where I once took Brooks for lunch, and past my yoga studio, its windows currently decorated with large leafy palms.

I blink and I'm back on a shady palm tree infested beach, dancing around a bonfire at 4 AM like some wild animal.

Fuck.

Zöe's right. I do need to go zen myself.