If the Shoe Fits (Meant To Be #1) by Julie Murphy

The group date invitation came at the exact right time, though, because I thought I was about to witness an all-out war when Stacy discovered Chloe had put a completely empty container of soy milk back in the refrigerator.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Henry says as he emerges from the barn with a tall, thin guy wearing a one-piece Lycra outfit and a slouchy cropped sweater over the top.

“Good afternoon, Henry,” we all say back to him in a singsong voice that makes us sound like Charlie’s Angels and actually makes me a little bit queasy.

Cameras weave in and out of the group, catching everyone’s reactions to Henry’s muscled thighs in black athletic shorts and the sight of his bare arms on display thanks to his tank.

“When I was in college, I got injured pretty badly on the lacrosse field, and one thing that really helped me rebound was yoga, so my pal Corbin here is going to lead us all in a class with some help from our little friends.”

“Cue the goats!” Zeke calls.

Behind Henry and Corbin, the barn doors open again and a dozen goats trickle out.

Catching myself off guard, I let out a delighted shriek. I don’t know if I’ve just never spent enough quality time with goats or if I’m just caught up in the moment, but these little guys are so damn cute it makes my ovaries hurt.

Henry laughs, and a serenely creepy smile spreads across Corbin’s face. Yoga instructor or cult leader? TBD.

Corbin leads us through a few basic poses, and I surprise myself with my ability to balance during tree pose. As he leads us into downward dog, a white goat with the name Chippy on his collar walks up the back of my legs and stands on my butt, like he’s conquered the biggest mountain of all. And perhaps he has. If it wasn’t so funny, I would probably die at the thought of how likely this is to make it onto national television.

We continue on through a variety of poses, and I’m impressed to see just how fluid Henry is in every single movement.

“He’s a real snack,” says Sara Claire as she displays her expert flexibility, stretching into upward dog. She catches me eyeing her and adds, “Cheered through middle school, high school, and college. I was a tumbler. My body is basically saltwater taffy at this point.”

“Very nice,” Corbin says to her as he passes us by.

“Teacher’s pet,” I whisper.

She grins.

After a few more poses, Corbin sits alongside Henry. “Let’s transition into couples yoga. Since we’re an odd number, I’m going to choose one of you who impressed me during the first half of our session.” He points to Sara Claire. “Join Henry at the front.”

Sara Claire’s eyes light up as she leaves her mat to be with Henry.

“Now, look to your neighbor and partner up with that person,” Corbin instructs.

I groan quietly and turn to find that Addison is also less than pleased with our situation.

Since she makes no effort to move, I scoot over with my mat.

“Don’t screw this up for me,” she says. “The women who perform well or stand out during the group date usually get guaranteed one-on-one time or the solo date.”

“Sit down and face your partner,” Corbin says. “With your legs crossed and your wrists resting on your knees, take a moment to ground yourself.”

I get situated and close my eyes. If I don’t have to see Addison, it’s like she’s not there. I try to think calming thoughts. Father-daughter trips with Dad to see Muir Woods, but that quickly devolves into a heavy guilt in my chest as I remember the box of Dad’s (and Mom’s) belongings I left under my bed in Erica’s pool house. The last earthly pieces of my parents and I left them to gather dust while I ran off to do goat yoga on a reality TV show.

I take a deep breath and try again for new calming thoughts. Sleeping in so late on Saturday mornings that my bed is hot with sunshine. Color-coding my shoe collection and micro-organizing by heel height. Going to Coney Island with Sierra in the dead of winter. But all I can see is the silhouette of that box and Erica’s handwriting scrawled across the top. None of my happy thoughts are able to set me entirely at ease. I haven’t felt fully like myself since this whole thing started. It’s like I can remember who I envision myself to be and the person who I think I am, but the reality of who I am in this moment feels like a stranger to me.

“Now open your eyes,” Corbin continues. “Look into your partner’s eyes.”

I open my eyes and see Addison making a side-eye glance at Henry and Sara Claire. The two of them are grinning silly at each other. Henry whispers something to her when Corbin’s back is turned, and Sara Claire has to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. The other night, everyone made such a point of how good Addison and Henry looked together, but Sara Claire and Henry are the ones who seem like a perfect match to me. It doesn’t take much imagination at all to picture how their lives might intertwine and play out together. A wedding. A family. Picture-perfect vacations. Grandkids. Hand in hand until the very end.

“Stupid hillbilly,” Addison mutters.

“She’s from Austin,” I say. “That’s, like, a huge city.”

“Whatever. Just look into my eyes or something.”

I take a deep breath and proceed to have the most intense staring contest I’ve had with anyone since Billy Samples challenged me to one in fifth grade. Winner had to do the loser’s vocabulary homework for a week. (I won and did my own homework, because I’m terrified of getting in trouble.)