Class Mom

by Laurie Gelman

  “What did you make yourself for breakfast?”

  “Cheez Whiz,” he grumbles.

  He’s hungry.

  “Buddy, how about you get dressed and I’ll let you have two Pop-Tarts for breakfast. Then you can watch a DVD in the car on the way to the store.”

  Threats and bribes are the only two ways I know how to parent. Luckily, this bribe works and before you can say, “Jen’s a crappy mom,” Max and I are in the minivan and speeding downtown to the store.

  As we pull into the parking lot, it looks like the circus has come to town. There is a big orange tent where people are gathering. A large blue, orange, and white banner has been hung on the building welcoming everyone to the Governor’s Get Fit Mini Mud Run sponsored by the Fitting Room.

  “Max, look at that!” I yell so he can hear me over the headphones. The sight is impressive enough to tear him away from his movie.

  “Whoa!” he yells. “Cool.”

  And indeed it is cool. Ron’s team has done an amazing job putting together a fierce-but-not-too-fierce obstacle course, which covers half the parking lot and the adjoining field. It takes me a minute to register that, much to my horror, a fire obstacle has been included. They’ve really upped the ante from last year.

  There is no room for cars in the lot, so I have to park down the street. Max and I rush back to the parking lot and wend our way through the crowd to where Ron is registering participants and getting liability waivers signed.

  “Hey, sorry we’re late.”

  “Are you late?” Ron doesn’t even look up. I can tell he is overwhelmed by the turnout. I know it’s a big day for him, but it’s a big one for me, too.

  I leave Max to hang with his dad and the rest of the team behind the desk. In the parking lot, I bump into Hunter’s two moms. Kim and Carol are dressed in matching shorts and homemade T-shirts that say “Team Hunter.” I give them both a hug.

  “You guys look great!”

  “Thanks. I can’t believe that obstacle course!” says Kim or Carol. “I’m a little intimidated.”

  “It’s bigger than the one they had last year,” I tell them.

  “Did you do it last year?”

  “Uh, you could say that.” I really don’t want to relive the shame of last year’s failed attempt. I spot Garth, Nina, and Chyna over by the door to the store and excuse myself.

  “How are you feeling?” Garth asks after I hug all of them.

  “I’m a little frazzled. I fell back asleep and woke up, like, fifteen minutes ago,” I tell them. “Chyna, sweetie, want to make twenty bucks the hard way?”

  She smiles and walks toward the tent where Max is.

  “I already told her that’s what she’s here for,” Nina assures me. “How are you and Ron doing?”

  “We finally talked about it last night.”

  Nina raises her perfect eyebrows. “Boy, when Ron says he needs time and space, he isn’t joking.”

  “I know, right?”

  “So, are you forgiven?”

  “You could say that.” I blush, thinking once again about our makeup sex. “I think he was determined to prove that my reality is better than any fantasy.”

  Nina smiles. “Pulled out all the stops, did he?”

  I lean in and tell her she’ll get all the details later. Right now I need to focus.

  I turn to Garth.

  “As soon as I saw the course, my groin started to hurt. Is that normal?”

  “You’ll be fine. It’s a great course. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “And I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.” Nina gives his arm a squeeze.

  “Me, too,” I purr.

  “All right. Cut it out right now. Jeez.” Garth is blushing at our now ongoing joke.

  Hot Dad Jean-Luc and Kim Fancy are having a tête-à-tête over by the Gatorade stand, which is right in my line of vision. Kim is wearing a long-sleeved black unitard that makes her already thin body seem emaciated. Jean-Luc is looking mighty fine in thigh-length running shorts and a hoodie. I look down at my T-shirt and leggings and realize I should have put a little more thought into my outfit.

  I wave to them both and start to walk over. Don Burgess’s baby mama, Ali, falls into step with me; I completely forgot she’d signed up. I wonder if she knows about the texting drama, or if she would care.

  “Hey there. Thanks for letting me do this,” she says, panting a little. “My New Year’s resolution was to dump my bad habits and get back into shape. That course looks really scary.”

  She stops walking to catch her breath; I wonder how well she’s going to do, given she can’t even keep up a brisk walk without huffing and puffing.

  “Did Don come out to watch you?”

  “Oh, God, I hope not,” Ali replies, then puts her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. That was an overshare.”

  “Not at all. Do you not like when he watches you do things?”

  She shakes her head. “It’s hard to explain.”

  I frown to show her I have no idea what she’s talking about, but just as she’s about to continue I see Kim and Jean-Luc coming toward us, so I touch her arm and ask her to hang on.

  “Thanks so much for coming!” I enthuse to them. “Kim and Carol are by the tent, so it looks like room 147 is here to represent!”

  “I’ll say,” a voice behind me chimes in.

  I turn, and of all people in the world, you’ll never guess who’s there. Well, maybe you will, but it shocks the shit out of me.

  Miss Ward is standing there in a pink warm-up jacket and shorts. Her blond hair is done in two braids and she’s wearing a white do-rag.

  There are cries of “Miss Ward!” and “Peggy!” as everyone in the group greets her in their own way.

  “Here to cheer us on?” I ask.

  “I’m here to do more than that. I’m going to do the course.”

  “Good for you.” Jean-Luc seems disproportionately happy to hear this news. I, however, have gone into silent panic mode. I flash back to when I told Ron I was going to invite some people to do the course. We were in the kitchen, cleaning up the dinner dishes.

  “Uh, I’m not sure.” He seemed less than thrilled.

  “Or maybe I won’t.”

  “It’s just that we’ve had a huge response this year. I put a poster up in the store two weeks ago, and I already have a hundred and seventy-five people signed up to participate. I’m just wondering how many can do it in three hours.”

  “Well, if they’re anything like I was last year, you can bet on thirty seconds before they collapse in defeat.”

  Normally that would have made him smile, but because we were still in the ice age, all I got was the back of his head.

  “So you’d rather I didn’t ask anyone?”

  “No, you can, but just keep it to five max, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Not wanting to rock the boat, I took his request very seriously. And now here’s Miss Ward, assuming she can just tag along. I take her arm and lead her away from the other parents.

  “Did you sign up through the store?” I ask, as politely as I can.

  “No.” She frowns. “I saw it in your email.”

  “Well, you didn’t RSVP, and I said we could only have five spots. I don’t know if they can squeeze you in.” How did she see the email?

  “But I did RSVP, Jen. In fact, I was probably the first to RSVP.”

  I give her a quizzical look. Her gaze is steady.

  “I’m always the first one to respond.”

  And in that moment, I feel a huge shift in my equilibrium. I’m off balance for a nanosecond but quickly steady myself. Oh. My. God. I take a breath.

  “Sasha Lewicki, I presume.”

  “In the flesh.”

  Pieces of the puzzle start to click into place. Miss Ward is the only one who has ever seen Sasha and her daughter, Nadine; she isn’t on the class email list and yet always knows what the emails say. Oh, my God, Asami was right! She is going to lord this over m
e for the rest of my life.

  I’m about to launch into a hundred questions, the first one being “In God’s name, why?,” but I’m interrupted by the loudspeaker announcement that participants should start making their way to the course.

  Suddenly Garth is at my elbow. “I think we should watch a few people before we do it.” I nod and allow him to lead me away. I’m completely floored, but I remember my manners and invite the group from 147 to follow us.

  “Are you okay?” Garth asks as we head to the starting line.

  “Yes, why?”

  “You just have a really strange look on your face.”

  “Just nervous, I guess.” I could tell him about the big mystery I just solved, but I don’t think he’d get it.

  We all gather in line to do the course. I turn and look at my group. Kim and Carol have joined us and are giving each other a pep talk. Dr. Evil has her game face on and Ali is biting her nails. She is the one I can relate most to. Jean-Luc Baton is doing some last-minute stretches, but is momentarily distracted when Miss Ward takes off her warm-up jacket. I’m with him. Her boobs truly defy gravity. I take a moment to admire them before I turn my attention to the course.

  “This is going to be fun,” Garth enthuses as we watch the first people take off. They are letting groups of two go every two minutes. The first up are two middle-aged women who I may or may not recognize from Curves. They can’t get over the wall, so they do something that never would have occurred to me: they walk around it.

  The course is pretty basic, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Just like last year, the six-foot wall is the first obstacle. Then you have to carry a tire about fifty yards, then run a hundred yards, and then crawl under a net through a long mud patch. After that comes a set of monkey bars, and a fake hill to climb and then slide down the other side. Then you run through some sprinklers to get wet, and jump over the line of fire and race to the finish line.

  Adrenaline is pulsing through my veins as Garth and I get closer to the starting line. I want to scream, “I’m not ready yet!,” but the truth is, I am. At this point I just want to get it over with. Especially that damn wall. I look around for Ron, hoping he realizes that I’m about to go, but I only see Chyna and Max waving at me from the sidelines.

  I turn to Team 147. I see Kim Fancy and Miss Ward/Sasha Lewicki have paired up to do the course together. Huh. I thought they were mortal enemies, what with the slap and all. Competition makes for strange bedfellows. I shake my head to clear it. I can’t lose focus.

  “Good luck, you guys!” I say to everyone. They all smile and give a thumbs-up. As I’m taking a last look around for Ron, some guy at the starting line tells Garth and me that we’re next. Garth takes my hand.

  “You got this, Jen.” He winks at me, and then we’re off.

  We run to the six-foot wall. Scenes from last year flash through my mind, and I immediately fall into my old, bad habit of trying to hoist myself over using my arms.

  “Use your legs!” Garth yells to me from the top of the wall. Jesus, he’s already up there?

  I remember what he’s taught me about saving my arm strength and using my legs. I grab the top of the wall and, keeping my arms straight, I frog-jump up the wall with my legs until I can hook my foot over the top and follow it with my body. I jump down the other side and wince with pain.

  Garth jumps down, too.

  “All good?” he asks. I nod.

  We run toward the tires and each pick one up. It’s heavy but not unmanageable—more awkward than anything. I can’t run with it, but I walk as quickly as I can and am more than happy to see the place where you drop them. Garth, of course, is carrying two.

  “Doing great,” he puffs as he throws his tires on the pile and we take off on the hundred-yard run. “How’s your groin?”

  It’s actually hurting, but there’s no way I’m telling him that.

  “Good. Fine,” I pant.

  At the end of our sprint is the mud patch. We get down on our bellies and crawl through what seems like five miles of muck but in reality is only about fifty yards. I’m exhilarated as I come to the end. I jump to my feet and high-five Garth, who naturally is right there waiting for me.

  The monkey bars are next. Without thinking, I jump up and grab the first one; immediately, my hands slip off and I land on my butt.

  “Wipe your hands on the grass or you’ll never get a grip!” Garth yells while sailing across with ease. I rub my hands on the grass trying to get as much mud off as possible. When I grab the bars again, my hands hold tight and I scramble across.

  Garth and I run up the manmade hill and then slide down the other side, which is all mud. As we do, I realize we are coming to the end. We run through the line of sprinklers to wet ourselves down and then hold hands as we jump over the fire line. I don’t even feel the heat.

  As we jog to the finish line, I see my whole heart waiting for me. Mom, Dad, Max, the girls, their boyfriends, Nina, and, right in front, Ron holding an ice pack.

  I run straight into the group with my arms open wide in the hopes of embracing all of them at once. There is laughter and tears and congratulations and screams of “You’re getting me dirty!” from my mother. I gratefully take the ice pack from Ron and hold it between my legs.

  “I love you so much,” I tell him with tears in my eyes.

  “I know.” He hugs me.

  We have to make room for the other racers, so we herd ourselves over to the side and chat while we cheer on the rest of Team 147 as they cross the finish line.

  Kim and Carol are first. They hold hands while they run, smiling the whole way. They seem to have a really nice marriage. As they complete the course, Carol lifts Kim into her arms and swings her around in a big hug. Well, now we know who’s the bitch and who’s the butch. Another mystery solved!

  Next I see Jean-Luc running with Ali, both covered in mud but only one of them looking like he just finished a Men’s Health photo shoot. Beside him, Ali is struggling to keep pace and looks happy to see the finish line. As they cross, Jean-Luc picks her up and swings her around. Is this some kind of ritual I wasn’t made aware of?

  Last but not least from our little team come Kim Fancy and Miss Ward—covered in mud and running like they are racing each other. I’m not kidding. They are neck and neck and running so close together that one of them could easily take the other out with a good shove. I’m thinking Kim Fancy for the win, but they actually cross the finish line together, clasp hands, and run toward the side of the building where the Porta Potties are located.

  “When you gotta go, you gotta go,” my mom says.

  “I want to do it again,” I say to Ron. “It went by so fast.” I hug him and reach my arm out for Max. “You guys are the best cheering section in the world.” I turn to my family and friends. “I can’t believe you all came for this.” They are all talking to each other and completely ignore me.

  “I’ve got to get back to work.” Ron extracts himself from Max’s and my hug. “Are you going to hang out, or what?”

  “The first thing I have to do is pee. I’ll come and find you.” I hand him my ice pack and take off toward the side of the building. I’m so happy, I’m practically flying. But when I turn the corner of the building, I stop short, because I’m treated to the sight of Miss Ward and Kim Fancy over by the side of the Porta Potties, making out! I mean, really going at it. Kim has our kindergarten teacher backed against the toilet, and Miss Ward has one leg wrapped around her like a rope. They don’t see me, so I immediately backtrack around the corner and wonder if I have just imagined the whole thing. A quick second glance confirms that I have not. This is too much to take in. Miss Ward is Sasha Lewicki and she’s Kim Fancy’s secret lover? I feel like I’m in a movie. A really dirty one.

  I still have to pee, but I decide to use the bathroom inside the store. I walk back through the parking lot, only semi-aware that people are still doing the obstacle course. My mind is trying to put together all I know about Miss Ward and Kim Fa
ncy. How long has this been going on? Did Miss Ward not have an affair with the dashing David Fancy? I had been so sure about that, especially after the Christmas party–turned–jewelry show. I mean, Miss Ward had obviously taken her dress off at some point and then put it on backward. I always assumed she had hooked up with the dashing David in the bathroom for a quickie and that was why Kim slapped her, back in February. That slap! What was that all about? A lovers’ quarrel? Foreplay?

  I walk into the store, grateful for the relative quiet. This is a terrific event, but I’m not sure what it does for Ron’s business. Everyone is outside having fun, not inside buying things.

  I wave to Kendra, the salesgirl behind the counter, and head to the bathroom, which is on the left side of the store right near the jockstraps and sports bras. I lock myself in because I need to think, plus it’s nice to sit down for a minute. I feel like I have been at Mach 10 with my hair on fire ever since I woke up for the second time this morning.

  Usually, I do some of my best thinking on the toilet, but today all I come up with is more questions. So I flush and wash my hands. A glance in the mirror shows I have the battle scars of a mud warrior all over me and I feel all kinds of cool as I head back to the parking lot. I look at my watch and can’t believe it is only 10:15. All this has happened in an hour? It makes me think of the army slogan, “We do more before nine a.m. than most people do all day.”

  I find Max and Chyna at the Gatorade table, passing out cups to people.

  “Mommy, Garth is looking for you,” Max informs me, handing me a cup of orange Gatorade.

  “Okay, thanks. Are you guys having fun?”

  “Dad says I can play in the mud when everyone is done and swing on the monkey bars.”

  “He did, huh? You are so lucky.”

  “He said I could try to do the course, too,” Chyna tells me. “If it’s okay with you.”

  “Of course. But maybe get Garth to help you. Any idea where he and your mom are?”

  “I think they went to talk to the guy from the governor’s office.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Sitting with the guy making all the announcements.” She points to a table set up near the starting line.