In Writ & Lust (In Progress)

3 Inbox Decisions

“So, have you found a hobby yet?” Gracie asked as they towel dried the sweat from their brow. The holidays were over and they had joined the masses in an attempt to shed any additional pounds and maybe begin a New Year’s resolution. Today’s class was Zumba and the instructor had them moving and dancing to current hits, causing Lennon to feel like she had worked muscles she didn’t even know existed.

“No, not really.” She tossed her used towel in the linen bin, another great commodity of their gym. “But, I was so busy with the holidays I really didn’t try.”

They both readjusted their hair to something akin to public worthy and made their way to the juice bar. They both placed their orders, retrieved their drinks after they ordered and worked their way to a small table.

“How did the vegan dinner go?”

“Actually, it wasn’t bad. The boys even enjoyed the dishes, except the pumpkin seed ravioli. I wasn’t surprised and was kinda expecting it, which is why I made the rotelle.”

“The kids have a good Christmas?”

“Always! Yours?”

“Spoiled!”

“Tell me about it. Kent is completely hooked on anything electronic and even though he really didn’t say anything I know he wasn’t happy when he unwrapped books instead of the next video game or iPod. Clayton, on the other hand, was excited about everything. Including underwear.”

“My two oldest are the same way. Athena was content with the boxes and pretty paper.”

They both gave a knowing chuckle. With a degree in Library Science, Lennon always bought friends and family books as gifts, always hopeful to pass on her own love of books. Everyone who knew her just expected it and were usually impressed with her ability to find books they never heard of but managed to peak their interest.

“Mmmm,” Gracie murmured as she gulped the mouthful she’d just sipped, “look at this.”

She had been reading through a small newspaper from the community college somebody had left behind at their chosen table,

“Make writing one of your new year’s resolution and join our group for prompts, constructive feedback, and fun.” She pushed the paper across the table, still pointing at the small blurb until Lennon accepted it. Lennon’s eyes roamed over the small paragraph, taking in the proposed dates and times. It looked like it was being hosted by an English professor during the spring semester.

“You love books so much, why don’t you write one?”

“I read. I don’t write.”

“Have you ever tried?”

Lennon was still gazing at the printed words, there was a contact number and email for more information. She worked on her smoothie as she tried to memorize the information before finally answering,

“No, not really. Well, just what was required in school.”

“Well, I think you should.”

“I will if you will.”

“Ha! I don’t write. I barely read. I could safely say the only thing I read is what you buy for Athena.”

Lennon smiled at her friend, figuring that was a bit of an exaggeration.

“I’ll think about it.”

Smoothie cups emptied, they discarded them in the closest garbage bins and worked their way to the nearest exit. Once outside they said their goodbyes with a hug and parted ways. Lennon walked to her car, still thinking about the writing group. Maybe she would email that professor, she could always decide not to go.

***

Lennon’s phone dinged and she cringed as it broke the silence in the otherwise quiet library. She thought she had turned it off but apparently not. She looked around to see if anybody noticed but the library was practically empty and if anybody had looked up they had already returned their attention back to their books.

She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out her phone, jamming the volume button until she saw the mute emblem pop up. Satisfied, she swiped her thumb across the screen, unlocking it and seeing she had received an email. She tapped the button and opened the new letter in her inbox from the writing group professor.

Her eyes scanned the email and noted that the meeting times had been switched from evenings to mornings and those already invested were trying to decide between either Tuesday or Thursday. He had also added that they intended to meet off campus since there were more community members than college students interested in participating, with the first meeting at a café not far from her gym.

As she reread the email, skimming to catch only pertinent information it suddenly dawned on her the initial date listed was tomorrow.

She had spent nearly two weeks debating whether or not to send the email and had actually needed to visit college website in search of the professor’s contact information when she finally decided to write because she had forgotten the email address, all the while reassuring herself that she could always just not go.

That was just a couple days ago, assuming once she received an answer she would have at least a week to think about it some more. Now that she needed to make a decision so quickly she was feeling overwhelmed.

She stood among the books, staring at her phone screen as it became dark from sitting static for too long. It was nearly the end of January and everything had settled to a dull lull at home and she was becoming restless again. Reading was a good distraction. And, she had volunteered some time at the small, catholic school her boys attended but even they were in between events, not filling her time as much as she had hoped.

Besides, it would be nice to do something that didn’t even involve kids. She loved her kids, but she felt as though she was in a never ending struggle to define herself apart from just being a mom. She wouldn’t trade her kids for the world but felt it shouldn’t but at the expense of herself.

The email had said she needn’t reply if she didn’t get a chance to do so, just arrive and participate if she wished. As much as she felt she needed more time to consider, she figured it would be awkward to show up even a day late after everyone else had already gotten comfortable with each other. Either she had to go tomorrow or she wasn’t going at all.

She had until morning to decide.