These Boots Weren't Made for Walking

by Melody Carlson

  “Feeling better?” she asks sympathetically.

  “I guess.” I twist the handle on my worn gym bag. It looks so shabby next to the sleek bags the other women are using. But they're regulars to this whole fitness thing. They obviously know all the secrets. Not only that, they're totally comfortable undressing, showering, and dressing in front of other women. But then maybe I would be too if I were as slim as these women. Of course, the older ones sag here and there, but all in all they look pretty good. Even my mom looks pretty good. And they all look better than I do, which brings me to my next dilemma. No way am I going to strip in front of these women. I stand with my bag, looking for a place where I might disrobe discreetly, and finally decide that the bathroom stall is my only option.

  “Where are you going?” asks Mom as she removes her bra.

  I look down at the floor with embarrassment. When did my mom turn into such a floozy? Okay, floozy isn't the right word, but standing here naked with a bunch of strangers… Okay, maybe not strangers.

  “I need a place to change,” I say quietly.

  “Oh, Cassie.” It sounds like the same voice I've heard since I was toilet training and not quite getting the hang of it. “You're among girls. You don't have anything we haven't seen before.”

  Several other women make some comments and jokes, but I just roll my eyes and head for the John. Its a little awkward, and I keep bumping my sore gluteus maximus on the door, but finally I've peeled off the sweaty clothes and am ready to hit the shower. I forgot to grab a towel. For Pete's sake! Holding my stinky sweats in front of me, I emerge from the stall and hurry/waddle over to the towel rack, grab a towel, which doesn't look very big, and try to wrap it around me while still holding on to my sweats.

  “Cassie,” says Mom as she comes around the corner on her way to the showers, “you're making this way too difficult.”

  I suppress the urge to swear at her as I go to dump my workout clothes by my bag. As I'm coming back toward the shower area, I happen to catch a glimpse of something that looks like a pink and white spotted pig walking on her hind legs. And then I realize its me. I turn and take a good, long look—reacting almost the way you would at the sight of a horrible car wreck where you know someone's been hurt and you want to look, but you don't want to. What I see right now is truly horrifying. Even with the towel partially covering my body, it's obvious that I am really, really out of shape. How did it get this bad? And the red and white blotches don't help. Plus my face looks swollen, probably from the strain of the workout. All in all, I look sick.

  I turn away from the mirror and hurry to the showers. At least there are a couple of private stalls so I don't have to do the group thing with the women from class. I can tell they're whispering about the new sideshow freak. Maybe they feel sorry for me. If I weren't so stinky and sweaty, I would probably skip the shower altogether. I turn the water on lukewarm and stay in there for a long time. I'm hoping all the women will be finished and gone by the time I come out. And maybe some of this redness will fade.

  “Cassie?”

  I jump. I have no idea how long I've been in here.

  “Huh?”

  “It's Penny. Your mom was getting worried, so—”

  “I'm coming out,” I say as I turn off the spigot and reach for my towel.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I force lightness into my voice.

  “We'll be out at the snack bar, okay?”

  “Hey, you guys don't have to wait for me.”

  “It's not a problem,” she says. “We're getting fruit smoothies.”

  “Okay,” I say, still standing behind the shower curtain. “I'll be out in a few minutes.”

  “Take your time. And I set another one of those drinks by your bag. Your mom thought you might need it.”

  “Thanks.”

  When it's quiet, I carefully emerge. I've wrapped the towel around me as best I can, and—sweet relief!—the dressing room is almost empty. Just a couple of women drying their hair and doing makeup as they chat. I decide to chance it by getting dressed in a corner behind the lockers. It sounds easier than the John. But just as I'm tugging on my jeans, which seem to be adhering to my swollen thighs, I hear someone approaching. Not wanting to be found partially dressed, I tug and tug, nearly falling over with the effort. But it's too late. As I stand there, hunched over and huffing and puffing in my quiet little corner, a fairly overweight woman appears, and I'm afraid I surprised her.

  “I'm sorry,” she says, turning away. “I didn't mean to—”

  “It's okay,” I puff. “I'm almost done.”

  I finally get my jeans in place and zipped, and I decide to vacate my private corner for this woman. I'll put on my shoes and socks in the open area.

  “It's all yours,” I say as I come around the corner. The woman is just standing there looking a litde uncomfortable, as if she's not sure what to do. She seems about my age, but I think she might be heavier. And I hate thinking that. I don't remember ever being as body conscious as I am today.

  “It's silly, I know,” she says. “But I like a little privacy when I'm changing.”

  “Hey, I'm with you there,” I say.

  “This club should consider some dressing rooms.”

  I agree.

  “Are you new here?” she asks.

  So I explain about my mom and that its my first time. “You went to spinning class on your first day?” She looks shocked.

  I nod. “Yeah, pretty stupid, huh?” “Or brave.”

  I tell her they were probably about ready to call in the paramedics, which makes her laugh, “I'm Emma,” she says, “Emma Carpenter.”

  “I'm Cassidy Cantrell,” I say. “Or just Cassie.”

  “Is your mother Audra Cantrell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, she's been my inspiration.”

  “Inspiration?”

  “Yes. I met her about a year ago through a mutual friend. Then I was shopping for a house recently, and I met her again. Wow, has she changed!”

  “So I've just found out.”

  “Isn't it amazing?”

  I nod without commenting.

  “Anyway, I asked Audra what her secret was, and she told me about changing her eating habits and joining the fitness club. So the next day I joined. I've only been coming for a month now. But I've lost almost ten pounds.”

  “Congratulations,” I tell her.

  She frowns now. “I have about ninety pounds to go.”

  “But you're on your way,” I point out.

  She nods. “Yes, I'm hoping that I can take it off in a year. I've heard about others who've done it.”

  “Good for you,” I say. “Now you're an inspiration to me.”

  “You look like you're in pretty good shape,” she says.

  I guess compared to her, I am. “It sure didn't feel like it in spinning class,” I admit.

  She shakes her head. “You should start slowly, like I'm doing. I set things up with a trainer. I'm on a program that's designed just for me and my body type and my needs.”

  I nod and make a thoughtful face, as if I'm actually considering this—which I am not I plan never to shadow the doorway of this place again. “I'll have to think about that, Emma,” I say, “but I should get going since my mom is waiting.”

  “Oh, yes, don't keep her waiting. Tell her I said hi.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say as she goes around the corner.

  “You too,” she calls. “Maybe we could work out together.”

  “Maybe,” I call over the lockers as I put on my socks and shoes, huffing as I bend over to tie the laces. Then I pack my gym bag with my sweaty things and go out and examine myself in the mirror by the sinks. I still look as if someone's been slapping me around, and even my eyes are bloodshot. I splash cold water on my face and realize that it's useless. I brush out my hair and pull it back into another ponytail, which is really unbecoming now that I'm so red and swollen looking. What does it matt
er? If I had any pride when I came in here, I surely have swallowed it by now. In fact, I think I can feel it lumped together in my throat—I will probably choke on it before I get out of this place.

  feel so bad,” says Mom when I finally join them. “Penny was just reminding me how hard it is to get started in a fitness program after you've been out of the game for a while.”

  “Uh-huh.” I take a sip of the fruit smoothie that Mom ordered for me. Its called the Fat Burner. Nice.

  “I guess I just thought because you're so young… well, that you'd have no problem jumping into the spinning routine. I'm sorry, honey.”

  “It's okay.”

  “Maybe you'd rather do yoga,” says Penny. “It's a lot slower and more about stretching than aerobics.”

  “Right.” I nod as if this makes sense, but both these women are nuts if they think I'm coming back here.

  “I met one of your fans in there,” I say to Mom, hoping to change the subject.

  “A fan?” She looks confused.

  “Emma Carpenter. She said she met you last year when you were, well, you know, out of shape. Then she met you recently and—”

  “Oh yes, Emma. She wanted to buy a house, but her offer was rejected.”

  “Anyway, because of you, Emma has joined the fitness club.”

  “Really?” Mom smiles and sits straighten “Well, good for Emma.” Then she turns her attention back to me. “And if Emma can do it, so can you, Cassie.”

  I let out a long sigh, then take a sip of my Fat Burner.

  “Well, I need to get back to work,” says Penny, “but it's great seeing you again, Cassie. Lets get together and catch up, okay? Some of our old friends like to meet on Fridays for happy hour at Black Bear Brewery. You should join us.”

  “Black Bear has a brewery?” I look at Mom. “This town has been really growing recendy.”

  “Yes, and the forecast is for even more growth.”

  Penny nods. “A lot of the kids who grew up here are starting to come back. Its been fun meeting up with old friends again. I can't wait for you to see Gary Frye.”

  “You mean the jock who thought he was God's gift to women?”

  She nods and chuckles. “He's bald and fat and trying to get me to go out with him.”

  “No way!”

  “Exacdy!” She stands and slings her pink Nike gym-bag strap over one shoulder. “No way.” Then she waves. “See you around.”

  “I can't believe how much Penny's changed,” I say as I watch her walking away. “She's like a different person.”

  “I didn't realize you hadn't seen her,” says Mom.

  “Its been a few years.”

  Mom smiles, “See? Lots of people change, Cassie. Its not such a big deal.”

  I consider this. “Well, you need to respect that you changed when you were ready for it, when you wanted to change. I doubt you let anyone push you into it.”

  “I dorft mean to push.”

  “I know. You're a mom; you can't help yourself.”

  “But you should consider your health, Cass.”

  “I'm perfectly healthy,” I say. “At least I thought I was until you guys tried to kill me in that stupid spinning class.”

  She nods. “I am really sorry, sweetie. I just didn't think it was that hard. I didn't start spinning until I'd lost most of my weight. I guess I was in pretty good shape by then.”

  I finish my drink, then look at Mom. “You mentioned lunch.”

  She nods and points to our drinks. “That was it.”

  I frown. “That?”

  “It's a complete meal in a drink, honey. It has protein and antioxidants and fiber and three servings of fruits and vegetables.”

  “Oh.” I nod, still frowning.

  “And it was 475 calories,” she points out. Like I care. “And I have to meet a client in a few minutes. Sorry if I wasn't clear.”

  “No no,” I say. “That's fine.”

  “Do you want me to drop you at home?” She's looking at her watch now, and I suspect she's in a hurry.

  “No, that's okay. I think the walk will do me good.”

  She smiles. “That's the spirit.”

  “By the end of the day, I bet I'll have burned off about a thousand calories.”

  “Good girl,” she says, standing. “That might almost undo all that pizza you ate last night.”

  I nod, but I'm thinking it probably won't put even a dent in the pizza I plan on eating as soon as I get out of this torture chamber of a fitness club. Or maybe I won't do pizza at all. Maybe I'll head over to Mountain Burger and get a deluxe cheeseburger basket and, chocolate shake. But after hearing what Penny said about a lot of classmates moving back to town, I'm not so sure I want to be spotted at Mountain Burger scarfing down several thousand calories while looking all red faced and puffy, as I know I must. I can still feel the heat throbbing out of my face and the top of my head. So as I slowly walk toward the cafe, I call on my cell phone, place a to-go order, and then slip in, wearing my sunglasses, and discreedy pick it up.

  Worried that it might get cold, I stop in the park on my way home and quickly eat it. Okay, I feel just a little bit bad as I realize that I'm undoing all my hard work and exercise today. But a bigger part of me simply doesn't care. I don't think I'll ever care.

  It's about two o'clock when I get home, and all I can think of is a nice long nap. It looks like Felix has found the best napping spot. He's contentedly curled up on the old, faded brown corduroy couch in the sunroom. I scoot him over to make room and join him. And that's where Mom finds me when she comes home around four. I don't admit that I've been here for nearly two hours. But I do tell her that all that fresh air and exercise probably wore me out.

  “Then maybe you won't miss me if I go out tonight,” she says.

  “Another date with Todd?” I ask in a slightly sour tone.

  She laughs. “No, this is a chamber meeting at the Den.”

  “You're on the chamber now?”

  “Yes, Ross Goldberg talked me into it.”

  “Ross Goldberg, as in the Goldbergs who own Black Bear Butte?”

  She smiles in a funny way. “Yes, Ross has sort of been flirting with me lately.” She shrugs like she's in middle school and unsure of herself. “I don't know why. But he's nice.”

  “And rich.”

  “Oh, Cassie, I have no interest in the man for his money.”

  “How old is he anyway?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I'm just curious. If my mother is becoming known as the town cradle robber, I'd like to have a heads-up.”

  “Cassie!” She frowns at me. “That's not very nice.”

  “Well, it's kind of shocking to see your mother going out with men you went to school with. So how old is Ross?”

  “Older.”

  I blink. “Older than you?”

  “No, I meant older than Todd. If you must know, Ross is forty-six.”

  “Only nine years younger than you.”

  “Really, Cassie, you make too much of this age thing. Someday when you get to be my age, you might figure it out.”

  “Figure what out?”

  “Well, for one thing, men age more quickly than women. That makes Ross more like my age. And people have told us that he looks older than me.”

  “So you ve been going out with him for a while?”

  “Just off and on, nothing serious. At least not on my part. I think I'm just a handy date for Ross. His wife died a few years ago, and his son is off at the Air Force Academy now. Ross has been lonely. And we've always been friendly to each other.”

  “So how does poor Todd feel about this?”

  She giggles like she's fifteen. “Todd? Well, he knows that I have no intention of getting seriously involved with someone his age. I only went out with him because we had that silly deal. And.

  “And?”

  “And, well, it sounded like fun.”

  “Was it?”

  Now I think she's actually blushing
. “As a matter of fact, it was.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  “I don't know, Cass. I guess he made me feel young… and special… and maybe it has something to do with your father.

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, it's just silliness. I'm sure Todd won't ask me out again. I made my age perfectly clear to him last night.”

  “So you lied to him before?”

  “No, of course not. I was just evasive. What woman my age wants everyone to know it?”

  “Especially when you can pass for much younger?”

  “I'm not trying to pass as anything, Cassie. I just want to have a little fun before I retire to my rocking chair, thank you very much.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” Now I peel myself off the comfy sofa and give her a hug. “I guess I'm just jealous.”

  She laughs hard now. “Oh, darling, that's perfect nonsense.”

  “Seriously, Mom. You look great; you have a life. Why wouldn't I be jealous?”

  “Well, don't be. I've been through a lot to get to this place. I hope you and your sisters never have to go through what I have.”

  “But I thought your life was pretty happy. I mean, until Dad ran off with Michelle.”

  “It's a long story, Cass. And I want to change my clothes and put my feet up for a few minutes, if you don't mind.”

  “I'll takea rain check on that story,” I call after her as she heads for her room. She has me curious now. It's also curious to imagine my mom with Ross Goldberg, sitting together in the back meeting room at the old Bear's Den restaurant on the south end of town. Life sure takes some funny twists along the way.

  Mom's ready to go a little before six. She's wearing a smoky blue pantsuit tonight. It looks expensive and brings out the color of her eyes. I tell her she looks pretty, and she actually seems embarrassed by the attention.

  “Have fun,” I call as she goes out the door. I watch as she backs her sporty little car out of the driveway I want her life.

  I also want food. But I'm feeling guilty for my indulgence at lunch. I think I should make up for it by eating some of Mom's healthy stuff. But everything I find looks like it's made of cardboard and hay I finally settle on one of the green boxes in the freezer. I've seen their ads, which make it look like the finest cuisine around. So I follow the directions and give it a try. And while I'm waiting, I munch on some crackers, which after a while don't seem to taste so bad.