by Liz Fichera
But the treadmill wouldn’t chug faster.
The lights on the control panel flickered dimly.
“Dang,” I muttered as I continued to press buttons. It didn’t light up like I remembered. Maybe it really was broken. Maybe Chad was right.
“What are you trying to do?” Chad circled the treadmill.
I gripped the side bars and inhaled, wondering whether I could trust Chad with my secret. I looked down at his pale, lifeless blue eyes.
There was only one answer.
I had to lie. “I just thought that since I’m all the way back here…” My hands made nervous gestures. “…and since the treadmill is sitting right here and all…working. Obviously…” I licked my dry lips. “I just thought I’d do my workout back here. Might as well. Since I’m already late for work.” I polished off my lameness with an even more unconvincing bright tone.
“But, it’s broken,” Chad said slowly, nodding at the Out of Order sign, obviously questioning my ability to read. “It’s barely moving.”
I stepped off the treadmill, a tad irritated. I stood face-to-face with Chad, my hands resting on my hips. “Well, here’s the thing…”
Chad’s eyes grew dangerously wide.
“It might say it’s broken.” My head tilted toward the treadmill. “But I have the feeling I can get it to work. I just need to give it another try.”
“Have you tried plugging it in?” said an amused voice from the doorway.
Chad practically jumped into my arms.
Carlos.
My stomach fluttered. Watching Carlos fill the doorway made me want to hitch the treadmill to the back of stampeding horses.
Dressed in his usual white work shirt and baggy pants, he leaned against the wall with crossed arms and a curious smile on his face. If I hadn’t felt so desperate, I might have laughed. Of course! I wanted to scream. It had to be plugged in!
“It’s just working on its battery now. The battery is weak,” Carlos added.
My whole body wanted him, bad. “The power cord. Right.” I cleared away the dryness in my throat and then walked to the front of the machine. Absently, I asked, “What’s wrong with this machine, anyway?” mostly to keep from staring at him. “Why did you move it back here?”
“People said that it wasn’t working right. Sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn’t.” He stepped inside the room, ignoring Chad. He crossed the room and lifted the front of the machine.
“Thanks.” I reached underneath for the cord.
Chad sighed with obvious irritation from the other side of the room.
We ignored him.
“Broken? How?” I straightened the cord as Carlos lowered the treadmill.
“Sometimes the control panel doesn’t light up like it should. We were getting ready to ship it back to the manufacturer today for a replacement.”
“Oh. Well, I got the control panel to light up, even on a low battery. It must be working.” My tone was hopeful. The treadmill had to work. I was out of options.
Carlos stood upright, brushing his hands together. From his expression, I wasn’t sure he cared.
But I wanted him to care. Badly.
“I just need an outlet.” My eyes scanned the corners but the light from the lone bulb cast dark shadows, making it difficult to see.
“I still don’t understand what’s so important about this treadmill,” Chad piped in from the doorway.
Carlos and I turned. We had forgotten he was in the room.
Chad waved one hand helplessly in front of him.
I couldn’t answer him. I could only shrug my shoulders. I had given so many pitiful excuses that I was running out of more.
Mercifully, Chad turned to leave. “Well, just come find me if you need anything else, Callie,” he called out halfheartedly, as if he wanted to be sure that we felt his existence.
Without asking, Carlos took the cord from my hands, his warm skin touching mine. Too soon, the feeling disappeared.
I watched the back of him, unblinking, as he searched the dark corners for an outlet. Breathing became difficult as my eyes traced the outline of his head.
“Found one,” he called out from behind a brown box.
I finally blinked.
“Great. Thanks.” I stepped back onto the treadmill. The more I looked at Carlos, the faster I wanted to get home. I pressed the START button and the control panel fired up its flashing red and orange lights. “It’s working!” I shouted over the motor as my legs began to move. “See, I told you this one always worked for me.” I looked back at Carlos.
“But the cord isn’t long enough.” He stood, watching me, his brow furrowed. He held the plug in his hand.
My chest tightened at the sight of the unplugged cord, but I wasn’t about to stop and explain. I couldn’t if I tried. Instead I offered a weak, “Guess the battery pack is stronger than you thought.”
He shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Finally he just dropped the cord and left me to my run. “Have a good workout.”
“Thanks.” I watched him till he walked out the door. “See you soon,” I said to the back of his head.
He stopped and turned to look at me one final time. And this time he really looked at me like I was crazy.
I smiled at him but he turned and left.
Finally.
Time was running out. I had no idea how long the battery would last.
With my temples already pounding as if I’d just run a five-minute mile, I pushed the UP arrow and began to jog. My arms and legs quickly adopted a comfortable rhythm so I increased the speed from five to six. The faster I got going, the faster I’d be out of this place.
The mere thought lightened my shoulders, even while the pounding across my forehead brought on a new wave of sharp light. Like camera flashes. To forget the pain in my head, I concentrated on my breathing, in through my nose out through my mouth.
In and out.
Then I began to count my footsteps against the rubber mat. The sound echoed in the damp room.
Thump, thump, thump.
Anxious, I increased the speed to seven.
Then eight.
With my elbows tucked close to my sides, I began to run even faster, holding my breathing steady.
Suddenly, I felt as if I could fly.
I cranked the speed to ten. When I glanced down at my legs, they moved so fast that my knees looked fuzzy.
Thump, thump, thump.
Then I remembered the letter I left with Kevin. He promised to give it to me when he saw me again. Here’s what I wrote:
Dear Callie,
I came back again. Don’t ask me how, but I did. It was stupid and selfish of me to return. I know that now. But if you read this note, it means that I made it home and you’re back too.
And I’m very sorry for complicating your life while I was here. I didn’t mean to. But while you’ve been away, and I’ve been busy trying to be you, I’ve learned a lot more about Max Kramer and even about myself. Stuff I never dreamed. And, if you don’t mind me saying, Max isn’t good enough for you. Neither is Alexandra Summers. They are not your friends, Callie. Please believe me.
If you ever run across a place called the Desert Java, please stop in and say hello. I’ll know who you are. Coffee and pastries on the house. Always.
Love
Grace Mills
P.S. I left a raspberry scone for you in the refrigerator, along with the recipe. Treat yourself every now and then. You deserve it.
In and out.
My breathing continued.
Each breath competed with the pounding at my temples and the throbbing across my forehead. Sweat began to trickle behind my ears, tickling my skin. I licked my lips, thirsty, but still focused on my breathing.
I reached down and pressed the UP arrow one final time, this time to twelve. The fastest my body had ever run. Despite the stinging forehead pain, I felt exhilarated. Like I could run forever. A runner’s high? Was this what the m
arathon runners always talked about?
One final time, I closed my eyes and pictured my perfect body—long legs, thin arms, flawless skin, perfect face. I smiled to myself, not for what I’d be losing but for everything that I hoped waited back home.
A flash of white and tan caught the corner of my eye from the doorway, a reminder to run faster.
Carlos…
I closed my eyes again, smiling to myself, as I ran into the dark, cool nothingness, just like before. It was like running blindfolded into a thick forest in the middle of a moonless night. You could stop and cower or you could run and face it straight on.
I chose to run, as fast as my legs would allow, till finally I couldn’t feel my legs or even the bottoms of my feet. My whole body turned numb. The only thing left was the pounding of my chest echoing inside my head and tapping out my final seconds at both temples.
Three…
Two…
One.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grace
There it was again.
A delicate, cool touch to my forehead followed by a whiff of lavender. It teased my eyelids and cheeks like a silk scarf.
I inhaled the lavender until my ribs ached and I sank back into the darkness, keeping the scent deep inside.
Despite the blackness, I was finally warm again, even if my body couldn’t—or wouldn’t—move. My arms wouldn’t lift and I couldn’t wiggle my toes.
But at least the pounding had stopped. The world was finally quiet.
“Grace…can you hear me?” It was the same voice that visited my dreams each night, pulling me back just before I sank too far. It faded in and out like a weak cell phone connection.
My eyelids remained heavy, and I turned my face away from the voice.
But the voice grew more persistent. “Please wake up, Grace.”
This time the voice was even familiar.
“I will need to change her bandages,” said an unfamiliar deep voice. His voice was flat, emotionless. I heard something like a pin scratching over hard plastic.
An elliptical machine, maybe?
And then I realized I’d fallen again. At Goldie’s Gym. I swallowed, squeezing my eyes tighter against that probability.
Alexandra Summers and Max Kramer were probably staring down at me right at this very moment, their faces pinched with disgust, wondering why I bothered with a gym membership.
How humiliating, I moaned inwardly, sinking deeper.
“Is she better today?” asked another voice, more comforting than the last.
Someone squeezed my hand, threading thick fingers through mine.
My eyes flickered against a light.
“Grace?”
I remembered that voice and tried to focus. My eyelids continued to flicker but an overhead line of light blinded me.
It had to be the gym again. It felt like the gym. But the smells were different…
My entire head throbbed, like someone was pulling at every hair in my head at exactly the same time.
“Grace?” the voice said again, louder. “It’s me, Kathryn. Please wake up.” Her voice was raspy. But then it cracked. “I’m here, Grace.”
Kathryn?
I turned my head and tried again to open my eyes. My lips moved but they opened as easily as dried rubber. Thankfully, a tall shadow stood over her, blocking the annoying light, allowing my eyes to open.
“Kathryn?” My throat burned.
“Oh, thank god.” Kathryn exhaled. “Finally!” She leaned closer and squeezed my arm.
I felt the squeeze and looked at her hand. Understanding returned in slow waves and prickles floating up my arms.
“Eddie, get the doctor,” Kathryn said over her shoulder. “She’s awake.”
Doctor? At the gym?
I squinted past my feet. Eddie stood at a doorway, looking back at me. A crease deepened in the middle of his forehead. His eyes were dark and sunken, like he hadn’t slept in a while. A long while.
He stood motionless.
“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll tell her,” Kathryn squeezed my arm again.
Eddie nodded reluctantly, smiled at me, and then turned for the hallway.
“Aren’t I…Aren’t we at the gym?” I squirmed myself into a sitting position but Kathryn pushed me, gently, back against a pillow.
I looked helplessly into Kathryn’s eyes. “Don’t tell me I fell again…”
Soft laughter rumbled around her. We weren’t alone.
“Hardly,” Kathryn said, a tired smile returning to her voice. “Jeez, Gracie, we’ve all been worried sick about you…” She wiped the corner of her eye with a well-used tissue. Her voice lowered. “Eddie feels awful about what happened. About everything he said.”
“Eddie?”
Kathryn nodded.
“What happened, exactly?” I licked my lips again. The blurriness had almost cleared from my eyes and my legs began to sting like red fire ants, all the way down to my toes. I was starting to remember small bits…
“Why aren’t we at the gym?”
Kathryn leaned closer. “You fell last night at the gym.” Her voice cracked around the edges.
That wasn’t what I remembered—not exactly. But I made it! I was back!
Kathryn’s bloodshot blue eyes searched mine. She looked as though she’d been crying nonstop. For a month. “Don’t you remember?”
My eyes squeezed shut, only for a moment, and I inhaled before pulling forward. It hurt to breathe too deeply. Something was wrapped around my chest. A tube? “Last night I fell asleep on the marble floor in my condo.” And how could I forget? I found Max in my bed with Alexandra.
“Marble floor?” Kathryn’s chin pulled into her neck. “Condo?”
I nodded.
“Trust me, Grace.” Her voice stayed gentle. “You were inside this hospital last night. I’ve been here the whole time. You haven’t moved an inch.”
“Hospital? What hospital?” My eyes widened and I studied Kathryn cautiously. In addition to her bloodshot eyes, dark circles smudged the bottom of her eyes.
Kathryn nodded, slowly.
I sank back. “Maybe you better tell me what happened. ’Cause nothing is making sense.”
Kathryn swallowed, like she was considering how much to tell me.
“Tell me everything.”
Her nostrils flared. “Well, for starters, you went running out of the house in the middle of the night. Do you remember that?”
I blinked. “Vaguely.” I remember running out of the Channel 2 television station.
“And then for some bizarre reason you decided to go for a jog at the gym. Without telling anybody.”
I stayed silent. That I remembered.
“And you ran on that damn treadmill.” Kathryn paused. “You ran too fast.”
That, I remembered.
“What were you thinking?” she chastised me.
I really had no idea how to explain. Any of it.
“Fortunately for you there was an off-duty paramedic at the gym. Otherwise…” Her voice trailed off.
“Otherwise what?”
“Otherwise you might still be in a coma.”
“Coma?” I coughed out the word.
“Coma.”
The realization stuck like a stomach punch. I’d fallen and stumbled plenty of times but never hard enough to completely knock myself out.
Kathryn’s dry cracked lips pressed together as she waited for me to process, to catch up. I watched as a dozen questions scrolled across her eyes.
Finally, I said, “Kathryn, I’ve been having the strangest, weirdest dream. I’ve got to tell you about it. I tried to tell you last week too. I was somebody else. Callie Collins. It seemed so real…”
But Kathryn pushed me back against the pillow again. “Later,” she said. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. When you’re feeling better.”
I nodded as happy tears built behind my eyes. I was so tired and awake and relieved at the same time. It was like all
my thoughts and memories exploded in front of me and I didn’t know what to tell her first.
Kathryn’s lavender-scented wrist brushed lightly across my forehead, lifting the hair away from my eyes. I closed my eyes, briefly, inhaling it again.
A bandage pulled beneath my hair. I winced when a couple of tiny hairs snagged.
“You hit the front of your head pretty hard this time. Got a pretty nice bump and some stitches too.” She threaded my hair behind my ear. “You’re gonna have to wear these bandages for a while.”
“I’ll just use some concealer to hide the bruise. It’ll cover it right up. Julie taught me all about it.”
Kathryn’s hand froze in midair. She looked at me as if I’d just spoken Russian or something. We’d never talked about make-up in our entire lives, not even when we were teenagers.
I lifted my hand to touch the head bandage but my arm stopped abruptly. “Ouch!” My arm dropped back to my side. That’s when I noticed a needle jammed into my wrist. It was attached to a clear tube. “What the—?”
“Intravenous,” Kathryn said quickly. “You’ve been hooked up to this since they brought you here.”
“Oh.” My head spun like I’d gotten up too fast.
“Who’s Julie?”
I swallowed and nodded my head, wishing I hadn’t said anything. “It’s from my dream. My weird dream.” I paused. “Later.” My head sank back into the pillow.
Kathryn nodded. “Okay, then. Later.” She smiled down at me. “But I’m so sorry for ignoring you last week, Grace. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“And I’m so sorry for running away. I was crazy angry and it was stupid—”
She touched my lips. “Shh. Not now.”
“No shushing.” I lifted higher. “I want you to marry Eddie and move to San Diego. Promise me. You’ll be happier there. And I can handle the café by myself. I’ll hire more help. It’ll be all right. I can do it. Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted you to be unhappy. And neither do I.”
“We’ll figure it all out, Gracie. Just not now.” Her voice cracked as a tear trickled down her cheek. “Just don’t leave me again. Not like that. Please?”
My throat thickened.
Kathryn’s eyes finally pulled away from mine, as if she was confident that I wouldn’t relapse into a coma again. Carefully, she turned her head toward another corner of the room.