salted caramel whiskey since Shelley was a fan of salted caramel.
Velma smiled shyly and asked for an autograph. Madison readily complied and bustled back outside to find the car empty.
Good grief, where had Shelley gotten off to on an injured foot?
She swept her gaze around, spied Shelley across the street, limping down the wooden staircase that led to the beach. Not the sand! You’ll get sand in your cut.
Tossing the vodka into the back of the car, and the whiskey into her purse, she put up the windows, locked the doors, and took off after Shelley.
Madison caught up with her on the beach. Shelley parked herself near the water, but on a dry patch of sand and in full lotus position with both feet resting against the opposite thigh, the soles of her feet turned upward.
Man alive, her sister really was a limber pretzel.
Shelley stretched her arms out over her knees, touched the tips of her index finger and thumb together to form a circle, closed her eyes, and began a breathing pattern that consisted of a quick inhale followed by a forceful exhale that caused her flat belly to undulate on each out breath.
Madison sank down on the sand beside her, settled her purse next to her, and drew her knees to her chest. She wasn’t even going to attempt that crazy cross-legged position. She hugged her knees and studied her sister.
Shelley’s face softened and a small smile turned up the corners of her lips. The wind blew her scraggly hair over her shoulders as she tilted her chin up to the sun.
“What are you doing?” Madison whispered.
“Centering myself,” Shelley murmured without opening her eyes.
Uh, okay. Madison had taken a few yoga classes in her life, but the meditations had always irritated her. She preferred moving to sitting. When she’d complained to the instructor that her mind was too active for meditation, the teacher had smiled knowingly and said, “That’s like saying you’re too dirty for a shower.”
After that, Madison left the studio and never went back.
“I—”
“Shh,” Shelley said.
Madison wriggled in the sand. Did her best to stay quiet. Failed miserably. “How long is—”
Shelley cracked open one eye. “Just be quiet for a moment, okay? Feel the sand beneath your body.”
“Yeah, about that. It’s really uncomfortable.”
“So what?”
“So what?”
“You’re not going to die from it. Just experience the discomfort.”
“Mr. Clean teach you this?”
“He did.”
“But you didn’t go back with him.”
Shelley sighed, unfurled from the lotus position, stretching her legs in front of her, and opened both eyes. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I learned everything he had to teach me.”
Madison stabbed a quick glance over at her sister. “So,” she said. “You were in a yoga cult?”
“Yep.”
“How did that happen?”
“I didn’t know it was a cult.” Shelley had her wounded foot on her knee again in that flexible, yoga-instructor way of hers, ironing the edges of the bandage completely flat with her fingers. “Please don’t bag on me. I feel stupid enough as it is.”
“I wasn’t going to bag on you.”
“Weren’t you?”
“No. I feel like I drove you into his clutches.”
“Everything isn’t about you, Maddie.”
“Touché.” Ouch, that smarts a bit. “Still, I can’t help feeling if I hadn’t shunned you, you wouldn’t have ended up in a cult.”
“It wasn’t like that. Guru Meyer—”
“Aka Mr. Clean?”
“Yes.”
“He thinks he’s all that.” Madison snorted.
Shelley let out a bone-deep sigh and Madison realized she needed to shut up and listen if she wanted to fix the damage they’d done to each other five years ago.
“Once upon a time, he was the most important person in my life.” Shelley brushed sand from her bandage.
“That guy?”
“He helped me so much.”
“You were searching for something.”
“And he had the answer,” Shelley said. “Too bad the answer was a cult.”
Madison dropped her face into her palms. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around this. You, the nonconformist, ending up in a place that requires complete conformity. How? Why?”
“It felt nice belonging to something bigger than myself.”
“Nicer than our family?” Madison whispered.
“After what happened? Yeah.” Shelley paused, and Madison felt like utter crap for causing Shelley to feel so abandoned and alone that she’d preferred a cult to her sisters.
That explained why Shelley was broke.
“You gave him all your money, didn’t you?”
Shelley raised her shoulders in a controlled shrug. “I had no use for money. Guru Meyer made sure all my needs were met.”
“Except for a hair and nail salon.”
Fingering her brittle, frizzy hair, Shelley burst out laughing. “You make a good point, my sister.”
Madison took the salted caramel whiskey from her purse