by Liz Fichera
After saying hello and being ignored by Front Desk Guy, I reached over the counter for a towel and felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. For a moment, my heart stopped. I turned, thinking maybe—just maybe—it might be Max. I was prepared to give up the last clean towel, if necessary. I was ready to be his towel, if he’d let me.
“You must be Grace,” the girl said. “I’m Elena Flores, Carlos’s sister.” She extended her hand and smiled.
At first, I blinked and swallowed back my disappointment. I wasn’t expecting a girl. I wanted Max. But then I got a grip on myself and smiled at her.
I guessed her age at around twenty-five. Just like Carlos, Elena had the warmest brown eyes and the longest, feathery eyelashes I’d ever seen. When she smiled, two tiny dimples lit up the corners of her mouth. I reached for her hand. “Hi, Elena. Nice to meet you.”
Elena wore an oversized, white T-shirt with Goldie’s Gym printed in yellow thread above the pocket. Her body swam in it. She spoke with a slight accent like Carlos. “I wanted to thank you for sending Carlos back with the lemon cake. It was delicious.” She wound a ribbon of her black silky hair behind her ear. “Reminded me of the sopapillas my grandmother used to make.”
“Sopapillas?” I struggled with the right pronunciation. It sounded much prettier when Elena said it.
“Yes, they’re light puffy rolls, light like your lemon cake, except we used to smother them in powdered sugar and honey. Very delicious.”
My stomach swooned just listening to her description. Powdered sugar always did that to me. “Those do sound delicious. I’ve only had them once, a long time ago.”
“Next time I make them, I’ll bring some to you.”
I felt my smile grow. “I’d love it. I’d really look forward to it.”
“Well, I’m just glad Carlos found your necklace. Your mom would have been pretty upset, yes?”
My chest caved. It was like somebody punched me in the stomach. No matter how much time passed, it never got any easier. In a way, for me at least, it got harder. Each time somebody asked, it was almost like reliving it. “My mom passed away five years ago.” I was grateful that my voice stayed steady.
Elena’s eyes grew wide but then softened in the same instant. “Oh,” she exhaled. Then she swallowed. “I’m so sorry, Grace.” She paused. “Your father, then?”
“He died too.” I cleared my throat. “They died together. Car crash on I-10. They were coming back from Tucson.” I didn’t mention to her that they were driving back early from a last-minute vacation for my birthday surprise party, planned by Kathryn. Everything with my parents was always last-minute, one of the drawbacks to owning a family business. You took vacations when you could squeeze them in and rarely took them at all. But mostly you didn’t plan on a ten-car freeway pileup because of a freak dust storm.
Elena’s hand lifted to my shoulder. Her fingers squeezed my arm, gently. “I am so very sorry, Grace,” she whispered. “That must have been awful. And I didn’t mean to pry.” Her hand dropped to her side, and I could tell from the pain that flashed across her eyes that she would have rather swallowed back every one of her words.
I forced another smile, a different one, but couldn’t hide the tiny crack in my voice. “S’okay, Elena. You wouldn’t have known.”
“Our mother died two years ago now in June.” She paused. “Ovarian cancer.” Then she inhaled, deeply. “I keep waiting to be able to say the words without crying inside.” Her breath hitched and I instinctively wanted to reach out to hug her, to let her know that I understood. But I wished I didn’t understand. I’d have given anything to be clueless.
“Me, too,” I said finally. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mom, for you and Carlos.” Carefully, I asked, “And your father?”
“He’s still alive, but part of him died with her.” Her eyes looked through me. “He hasn’t been the same since. He lives with Carlos and me. Rarely leaves his bedroom. Just sits in his chair and pretends to read.” She blinked, focusing on my face again. Then her mouth curved upwards in a smile but it was hardly a smile. I knew that look. I’d lived it lots of times. It was gut-wrenching pain and I felt it, right through every inch of my chest. She missed her mother.
“I am so sorry, Elena.”
Elena nodded. Her lips pressed together. I envied her, her strength.
Gym members began to stream inside, passing us on both sides.
She reached for my hand and held it, her skin soft and reassuring. “Well, I better let you get on with your workout. Maybe we’ll talk some other time?” Her tone was hopeful.
“Yes, I’d like that, and you and your brother should stop by our place. I told him that coffee and pastries are on the house and that goes for you too.” I picked up the gym bag at my feet. “Maybe we could share some recipes? I’d love to hear more about some of your grandmother’s specialties. I’m a bit of a baking geek.”
Elena’s eyes sparkled again, the color returning to her cheeks. “Me, too.” Her laughter was airy and genuine. “That would be fun. We’ll plan on it one evening, if we ever get a free evening around here.” Her eyes rolled playfully.
“I understand. Well, I better get a move-on and start burning some calories.” I patted the side of my leg. It jiggled a little beneath my hand, a painful reminder.
“The gym just got some new treadmills.” Elena pointed toward the mirrors. “You’ll be one of the first to break them in.”
I glanced toward the aerobic room, hopeful that they’d be close to the free weights and Max Kramer, preferably directly behind his dreamy dimpled shoulders. “As long as I don’t fall off, they’ll work just fine.”
“Bye, Grace.”
“See ya, Elena.”
Three new treadmill machines were positioned perfectly to the right of the free-weight area. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Max.
I groaned inwardly. The gym felt so empty without him, no matter how many people buzzed around. And my raspberry scone would have to stay wrapped in the refrigerator one more day. That was the deal.
Stupid deal.
Disappointed, I stepped on the new treadmill near the corner. Its display was still shiny and unscratched; no one had had the chance yet to deposit a wad of gum or an empty water bottle in any of the side holders. It was like stepping into a new car. Even the rubber belt smelled freshly oiled and new.
“Wonderful,” I muttered as I pressed the START key and began a slow warm-up to three miles per hour. I kept the incline level and held on to the side bars for additional support, just until I got comfortable with the new machine.
After the control panel counted down the five warm-up minutes, I released my hands and increased the speed a half notch, but not so fast that I couldn’t stay on the lookout for Max without losing my balance. At three and one-half miles per hour, the back of my neck began to feel warm and sticky underneath my ponytail. As usual, half my ponytail stayed pinned back, the other half clawed around my face.
Breathing became harder but I kept on walking. Feeling brave, I increased the speed a few more notches, watching the red computer bars on the display flash higher. The new machine even displayed an encouraging thumbs-up cartoony graphic.
I smiled down at the cheery hand. This was the fastest I’d walked since my last fall.
Then I decided that since I was walking so fast, I might as well jog. Why not? I could manage it. In my periphery, I watched Alexandra waltz through the front door and sway her perfect hips toward the weight room like one of those perfect models on Deal or No Deal but without the million-dollar case. Then I remembered the leg jiggle beneath my hand. And that provided all the motivation I needed. If I was ever going to have a body like Alexandra’s, I was going to have to work harder. Way harder.
Pushing the hair from my eyes, I cranked up the speed to four and one-half miles per hour, the fastest I’d ever walked—or run. Walking became impossible, so I started to jog. My running shoes thumped against the rubber tread. I was definitely jogging.
/> This isn’t so bad. I can do this…
Encouraged, I notched up the speed to just under five miles per hour. My legs moved faster. I even felt a slight tingle in my calves. With arms close to my sides, I concentrated on my breathing. Then I did the unthinkable: I reached down to the display panel and pressed the ARROW key until the speed reached an even six miles per hour.
Six miles per hour!
I marveled at how well I was doing.
I can do this! And it’s not so bad. I’m finally doing it!
The balls of my feet banged against the rubber tread with so much force that I couldn’t hear the pulsating rap music blaring through the speaker above my head. The only thing I heard was my own steady breathing, in perfect unison with my footsteps.
In and out. In and out.
Then I reached down and put my forefinger on the up ARROW one last time. Just one more notch, I promised myself. Then I’ll slow down. I just wanted to see if I could do it…
Sweat trickled down the sides of my forehead and my hair stuck all around my face like scotch tape.
With my right finger, I pressed the ARROW key one last time, wanting to see that cheery graphic again, the one giving me the thumbs-up sign. My heart felt as if it could pump its way out of my chest. Oddly, I’d never breathed more evenly, run faster, or felt better. My body felt light as sponge cake. I felt like I could run all day, even fly.
That was exactly when everything faded to black.
Chapter Six
Callie
You know that sound check promo they play in the big movie theaters before the start of every movie? The one where it sounds like a freight train, a helicopter, and a 747 passenger plane are about to land inside the theater? Right next to your seat? That was exactly how loud my heart and temples pounded. The two competing sounds converged inside my head like competing fighter planes.
But then the room grew too bright and I realized my eyes were closed. I inhaled deeply, desperately trying to mind-meld with my heart that it needed to slow down. Badly. I wondered if I was having a heart attack, but no one was pounding against my chest.
Then I realized what I had done.
“No,” I muttered with my eyes squeezed shut. I’d fallen again, obviously. Just freakin’ great…What was my problem? I’d never wanted to crawl up into a little ball and turn into a pile of dust more than this very instant. This can’t be happening again. It just can’t.
When my heartbeat finally slowed, after a handful of more deep breaths, it became easier to focus. I forced one eye open. But with the bright light above me, I started to wonder whether I was on an operating table. Or being held captive inside an alien ship.
Dear god, please let it be an alien ship.
Even being dissected on an alien ship would be less painful than falling again in Goldie’s Gym, or worse, in front of Max Kramer especially if he had happened to pass by while I was in the clutches of jogging endorphin-land. I swallowed back that cruel possibility, tasted dry lips, and then forced myself to concentrate. The sooner I got up and drove home, the better. I couldn’t play dead forever.
“Callie?” someone said.
It was a man’s voice. His tone was gentle but urgent.
“Callie, babe, are you okay?” he said again.
A hand pressed against my cheek. The skin was pleasantly cool. Someone lifted my limp hand and patted my wrist. I figured it was probably Kathryn but when I inhaled, I didn’t smell lavender.
“Come on, Callie,” another voice said, a woman. “Are you okay? Say something!” The voice bordered on shrill and squeaky, and it sounded oddly familiar. But it was too shrill to be Kathryn.
Curious, I opened my eyes. Even as I tried to raise my head, someone pushed back against my shoulder, gently. It was that same cool hand again.
Carlos, maybe? I wondered. That wouldn’t be so bad. At least he’ll know what to do.
“What should we do, Max?” the woman said.
Max? I moaned to myself. Damn it! Not again! Now I really wanted to die. This was more than one girl could handle.
I’d fallen again. That much was clear.
My eyes squeezed shut again and I hoped that, eventually, these people would simply go about their workouts and leave me alone.
“Come on, Callie. Say something. You’ll be okay,” Max said.
My eyes blinked open. Who is Callie? Did she fall too?
I studied their faces. One of the faces kneeling over me definitely belonged to Max. I’d know that square jaw line anywhere. The other belonged to Alexandra Summers, probably anxious to use the new treadmill.
“Don’t worry, Alexandra.” My words slurred and stuck to my throat. “I’ll get up. You can have the treadmill…”
But Alexandra turned to Max and shook her blond ponytail, the kind that always remained obnoxiously glued inside a hair tie with nary a hair out of place. “What’s she talking about?” she asked him.
Max leaned close enough to my face so that I could feel breath. I even noticed the stubble on his chin. I fought the urge to reach up and stroke it with my thumb, just as I’d imagined doing a million times. Jeez, he could sell razors with that adorable stubble…
“Callie, we’ll help you up now. Ready?” Max said.
Why are you being so nice? I wondered as Max lifted me to a sitting position.
He continued to grip my shoulders so tightly that I couldn’t help but sink back into his arms. I looked up at him, speechless, cherishing the moment, unusual as it was. I figured I might as well make the best of another humiliating situation. I even thought about kissing him. Who cared if he called me by the wrong name?
“Come on, Callie,” he said in such a tender voice that I swear it almost made me cry. No man had ever talked to me so tenderly, so sweetly. As though I was special. He pulled me to my feet as if I was as light as a bag of potato chips. His hands never left my shoulders. I stared up into his hazel eyes and practically melted into a puddle. Then my eyelids began to flutter as if I’d just lost a contact.
He must think me an idiot, I mumbled to myself, still drunk on his eyes.
“Here, let her lean on me,” Alexandra offered.
“No,” Max said, “I got her.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and my entire body tingled. If this was what getting struck by lightning felt like, where could I sign up for more? “Let’s get her to my car.”
Car? My back went rigid.
“Good,” Alexandra said. “’Cause I got to get her to work for the noon show. We’re late as it is.”
My heart began to pound all over again like it was getting ready for lift-off. “Show? What show?” I stammered, turning back to Max, finally able to utter a complete, albeit short, sentence. “What is wrong with everybody?”
Alexandra and Max each grabbed one of my arms and led me toward the front entrance, ignoring me. I looked sideways from one to the other but no one would answer. And it was as if my lips had turned to rubber. I was thirsty.
“Water,” I begged.
“Sure, Callie.” Max stopped. “Over here, babe.” He guided me to the drinking fountain in the corner of the weight room, the one in front of mirrors, the same mirrors that I pretended didn’t exist. Whenever I got anywhere near, I’d turn away. Or close my eyes.
I lowered my head as we approached the fountain. I wasn’t ready to see my pudginess in the mirror, especially wedged between Alexandra and Max—Arizona’s version of Barbie and Ken. Clearly this had to be someone’s idea of a cruel joke.
When does someone cue the laugh track?
With eyes barely open, I stood in front of the fountain and lowered my head. The water was refreshingly cold. I took several long gulps, almost as if I’d never tasted water before. I was so incredibly thirsty. If they’d have let me, I could have bathed in the metal fountain. Filling my hands with a cupful, I splashed some against my cheeks.
“Easy, there.” Max chuckled, his hand, weirdly, still wrapped around my arm. “Save some for the rest of us.” He ga
ve my arm a squeeze. My skin tingled again.
With eyes still closed, I took one last, greedy gulp. Then, very slowly, I raised my head and took another deep breath to steady myself. My breathing had stopped echoing inside my head and my heart had returned to near normal pumping levels. Cautiously, I cracked open both eyes, slowly at first, so that they were only tiny slits.
I expected to see Max and Alexandra, laughing at me. Or at the very least, obnoxious grins stretched across their faces.
But instead of grins, I saw myself standing in front of the drinking fountain, Max’s hand still gripping my arm—except the arm didn’t belong to me. His hand gripped someone else.
A gush of air left my mouth.
Max’s face darkened. “What’s wrong, Callie?”
I shook my head and then squeezed my eyes shut. Let’s try this again, I told myself.
“Yeah, what’s wrong? Can I get you something else? Some juice, maybe?” Alexandra asked from my left side. “You look like you could use some vitamin C. And a D shot.”
“You can leave me alone now. I’ll be fine.” I spoke through clenched teeth after having returned my eyes to the squeezed-shut position. “And my name is Grace, not Callie.”
Max tugged on my arm. “What are you talking about?”
“I told you we should have called the paramedics,” Alexandra piped in.
Max dropped my arm. But then his hands reached for my shoulders, gently shaking me till my eyes finally opened. “Callie, come on. Quit joking. You’re starting to seriously freak me out.”
I drew back a breath till my ribs stretched. Then I raised my head and looked up at him. My whole body went a little limp again. The man was pure perfection. Finally, I braced myself. “My name is Grace.”
Max pursed his lips and tilted his head. “I think maybe you did too much partying last night with Alexandra.” Another chuckle.