by Judy Kouzel
She stood up and slowly walked toward them, trying to look disinterested. "Hi, Leedy," Deanna called when she saw her. She looked up, pretending she had not seen them.
"Please come join us!"
Terry Foster smiled broadly and waved her over. "Hey there!" he called over the noisy crowd.
"Great day for a run, isn't it?" Deanna gushed when Leedy returned their greeting.
"Yes," she said, coming toward them, trying not to look at Terry.
"Would you like to run with us?" Deanna offered.
"I'm a little rusty," Leedy lied. "I haven't been running as much as I should. I probably would only slow you down."
"We don't mind," Deanna assured her. "Uncle Terry usually beats me anyway. And we're not here to compete. We're here for the fun of it. We won't care if you fall behind."
"All right," Leedy said, stealing a shy glance toward Terry. "But, like I said before. I'm not a long-distance runner. Don't let me slow you down."
"We can all start together, anyway," Terry offered.
"All right," she said with an indifferent shrug.
"You won't mind if I take off like a bullet, would you?" he asked her, leaning in closer. "I've been running quite a bit lately. I'm training to run in a marathon this spring. I'm in great shape for a 1OK run."
"Is that so?" she asked, taking in the smug, amused expression on his handsome face.
"Oh, yes," he said. "Deanna will tell you."
Deanna nodded and rolled her eyes. "It's true," she said. "He's been running every day."
"I'm up to fifteen miles a day," he gloated. "As a matter of fact, I might just win this race."
"Win it?" Leedy asked, skeptically.
"Yes," he said. "I have a good feeling I'm going to win today."
"Good luck," Leedy said, uncertain of what to make of his sudden smugness.
Deanna rolled her eyes again and laughed. "Don't mind him, Leedy. He's just teasing you. And stop bragging, Uncle Terry."
"You're right," he said with a wink. "But I'm still going to win the race."
"He probably will win," Deanna said to Leedy, with a shrug. "But still ..."
Just then a red-faced man with a megaphone announced the start of the race. All of the runners gave their bodies one last stretch and then headed for the starting line. Leedy, Terry, and Deanna made their way through the crowd until they found a place near the front. Leedy stood in between Terry and Deanna. She glanced over at Terry and saw that he was watching her with a big, happy grin on his face.
"Good luck," he said.
"On your mark!" shouted the red-faced man into the megaphone.
"You too," Leedy said. "But I only run for the exercise. This is all in fun, you know."
"Get set!" yelled the man.
"Well then," Terry said, with a confident smirk. "Have fun."
"GO!" screamed the man into the megaphone. A whistle blew and Leedy took off, running at top speed. She knew she had little hope of winning, but if she could gain some distance early in the race, she might have a chance at doing well. "Coming through," she said, as she sprinted past Terry. He only smiled and waved her on as he kept running, not missing a single beat in his steady, smooth stride.
She dashed as fast as her legs could carry her ahead of him. Something about Terry's cocky confidence made her determined to do well. Within a minute she had overtaken Deanna and then another runner. Despite what she had told Deanna, Leedy had been running quite a bit lately. It was a coping strategy for the ongoing stress of her busy life. Even so, she was surprised at how easily she passed the other racers, who seemed to be moving slower than they should.
The sun was shining, but it was not hot and the crowds of spectators that lined the street were cheering her on. So she ran. She ran as hard and as strong as she had ever run before. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Terry was behind her, his long, taut legs moving in a perfect, uniform stride, gaining on her with every stroke. She pumped her legs harder, trying to put some pavement between herself and the other runners.
Leedy's legs cooperated, at first. But soon, her breathing was becoming more ragged. She ignored it and ran ahead, pushing her legs to move still faster, if that was even possible. A small twinge of pain developed in her left knee but by blowing short puffs of air out of her mouth, she was able to keep going.
From time to time, she would grab a paper cup of water from one of the spectators and gulp it down. But she realized that every time she did, it slowed her down. Soon a nagging ache developed in her knee, which started to ra diate to her shin. She had also developed a persistent stabbing pain in her right side. She leaned into the stitch a bit and kept on running.
Leedy knew her strength as a runner didn't lie in her ability to run long distances, but in her ability to sprint shorter distances quickly. A 1OK race was not her strong suit, and now she could feel her strength ebbing away. But she wanted to do well in the race, if only to prove to herself she was capable of it.
She looked ahead of her, trying not to think about the other runners slowly gaining ground behind her, when it suddenly dawned on her that all the runners who had been ahead of her were now nowhere to be seen. She was surprised and happy when she realized she had somehow managed to take the lead. This was certainly a new experience for her and she relished her victory. But her triumph was short-lived, because a quick glance behind her told her that Terry Foster was steadily catching up.
Leedy gritted her teeth and implored her legs to keep moving. She could see the finish line less than a block away, and she could hear the shouts of the spectators, but she knew her exhausted body was faltering. Her lungs felt as if they were going to burst, her knee was screaming in pain, and the small stitch in her side had become excruciating.
"Coming through," said a cheerful voice from behind her. Leedy felt a rush of wind as Terry ran past. She tried to catch up with him and for a few harrowing seconds, she thought she might be able to maintain her lead, but the ache that coursed through her body was too strong. He strode past her with a smooth ease and crossed the finish line only seconds before her.
"Arrgghh!" Leedy groaned as she crossed the line and collapsed on a grassy incline. Deanna soon followed behind her, laughing and hooting in youthful glee.
"Wow!" she shouted, jumping up and down. "That was great! Uncle Terry came in first and you came in second! Women never beat men in these races! I thought you didn't run fast!"
But Leedy was beyond conversation. She lay in the grass panting as she waited for her knee to stop throbbing and her heart to cease pounding and for the burning pain in her chest to go away. Every breath was anguish. Plus, she was certain she'd never be able to walk again.
Leedy knew she had committed the ultimate runner's sin and she was annoyed with herself. She had broken her stride, almost from the starting line.
"Need some help?" a voice from above called to her. She squinted into the bright morning sunshine and saw Terry leaning over her, holding out his hand. She grabbed it and he hoisted her up.
"You need to work on your finish line technique," he said, handing her a paper cup of water. "Here, drink this. You look as if you could use it."
"Thanks," Leedy gasped as she took the water and gulped it down.
"Great race," he said, his blue eyes dancing. Deanna followed behind him, jumping up and down with excitement. Leedy noted that neither Terry not Deanna looked any the worse for wear. In fact, they had barely broken a sweat. "I think I may have overdone it," she said, pushing back her wet, sticky hair. He handed her another paper cup of water and watched her drain it.
"You'll be all right in a couple of minutes," he said, letting his hand slip softly onto the small of her back. Despite the fact that every muscle in her body was still screaming in pain, the feel of Terry's strong hand touching her sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her body, along with needles of electricity all the way down to her toes.
"Great race," Leedy repeated.
"You, too," Terry said. "Yo
u're quite an athlete." He stood there, momentarily, looking into her eyes and smiling.
"Let's go, Uncle Terry," Deanna said. "You promised we would go to brunch after the race. I'm starving!"
"Great idea," he said. "Perhaps Leedy would like to join us?"
"Yes!" Deanna exclaimed. "Please come with us, Leedy! We're going to go home first to grab showers, but we can meet you there. We are going to the Northern Inn. They have a wonderful buffet on the weekends."
"It will be fun," Terry coaxed. "Or, at least, more fun than hyperventilating. Come on, Leedy. Come with us."
It was a tempting offer, but the pain in her knee screamed in protest and she knew it was going to be another busy day at Mr. Hobo's. "Thanks for the invitation," she said. "But I can't. I have to work this afternoon."
"Oh ... darn," Deanna said with feeling.
"Maybe next time," Terry offered, still maddeningly handsome.
"Yes, maybe. And thanks again," Leedy said. "But duty calls." She handed Terry back the paper cup before she limped away, trying vainly to exit with as much dignity as she could muster.
Leedy spent an hour soaking in the bathtub, hoping the hot water would soothe not only her aching body, but her aching pride as well. Every muscle felt as though it had been worked over by a prize fighter. Her knee was still tender to the touch and the condition of her throbbing back remained precarious. But her sore muscles were not the only thing that was giving her remorse.
She was pleased she had placed so well in the race, but ... Leedy had come to the difficult realization that her actions over the past few days had been embarrassing, and she was mortified. Her hasty exit from Terry Foster's office and her overly competitive behavior at the race were childish, to say the least.
She sank deeper into the hot water, trying to forget the past two days. She was usually such a levelheaded personbut ever since her first meeting with Terry Foster, she had been acting like a blockhead. She was tongue-tied and awk ward whenever he was anywhere near. What on earth had gotten into her?
The only conclusion she could come to was that, for reasons that couldn't be explained, the loan officer ignited a side of her that no one else had ever seen. A side that was electrifying, but not altogether rational.
Leedy lay in the tub and let her mind wander. She thought about the way Terry's strong, muscular legs moved when he ran and the way his hand had felt against her back. She closed her eyes, and let the warmth of the bath envelope her. "Okay," she told herself out loud. "So, he's handsome. So what? Brian was handsome too, remember? So he makes your heart go pitty-pat. You're a big girl. You can handle this. But don't forget, he's a bit arrogant. And . . ." She couldn't think of anything else, so the sentence remained unfinished.
She searched for a theory that would somehow define why she had allowed this man to so quickly and effectively upset her apple cart. A theory that would explain the unsettling effect he had on her life. Terry was a mystery to be pondered, a problem to be solved, and she was determined to put him in his proper place, at least mentally. "So what if he's handsome?" she asked again. "He's trouble ... and I should stay as far away from him as I can." She made the statement out loud with as much feeling as she could gather, but it still somehow lacked conviction.
Leedy sighed and stepped out of the tub, reaching for a towel. The soft, fluffy terry cloth felt good as she patted herself dry. She lingered on the special places of her flawless body. Places where the nubby fabric felt delicious rubbing against her skin. She closed her eyes again and wondered what it would feel like to be held in Terry's strong arms.
"Stop it!" she said out loud. She was annoyed with the way she had so quickly forgotten her decision to steer clear of this man. This man who had turned down her application for the small business loan she needed to open her restaurant.
Leedy finished drying off and set about with the task of putting herself together enough to go to work. It was her weekend to work the "turn around" shift, which meant the dinner rush on Friday night and then the day shift on Saturday. It made for a long, grueling experience, especially since Parents' Night really meant Parents' Weekend. But she didn't mind working. The long hours would keep her mind off her recent disappointments ... and off Terry Foster.
She dressed in the black tuxedo (which luckily was holding up well, considering there were no all-night, one-hour dry cleaners) and a fresh, starched white blouse. She applied her make-up and blew dry her long, straight hair until it was soft and glossy again. She pulled it back into a ponytail and fastened it with a beautiful silver hairclip she had bought at an antique store. She looked in the mirror and felt hesitantly pleased by what she saw. Her skin was peaches and cream and her chestnut brown eyes were bright and clear. She looked decidedly good, all things considered.
By the time she arrived at Mr. Hobo's an hour later, Leedy was feeling like her old self again. Well, almost. Her first stop was in the kitchen, which had fallen woefully behind in setting up for the soon-to-arrive lunch crowd. She spent an hour chopping vegetables for the salads. Then she prepared more Chocolate Ecstasy cakes, which had been selling like the proverbial hotcakes since Friday.
It was well into the afternoon before she was finally able to head into the dining room. She ran the sweeper around the tables, poured coffee for customers, and took care of one hundred little disasters that came up along the way. Leedy liked it when Mr. Hobo's was busy. It was then that she was in her true domain. Crowds of hungry diners and a chaotic kitchen didn't ruffle her feathers. In fact she loved it when the heat was on and she ran Mr. Hobo's as if she had been doing it for ten years instead of six months.
She was restocking the supplies at the coffee station, her head buried deep inside the cabinet, when she heard a voice from above. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Leedy Collins." She jumped, startled, and banged her head painfully on the inside of the cabinet. She looked up, rubbing the bump that had quickly popped up, to see Terry Foster standing over her.
"Oh," she gasped. "Mr. Foster. I didn't hear you."
"I'm sorry if I snuck up behind you," he said, helping her to her feet.
"It's okay," she said, trying to compose herself.
"Did you hurt your head?"
"No," she said, her ears ringing. "I'm fine."
"Have you recovered from the race?"
"Yes. And you?"
"Yes," he said with an amused, easy smile. He was dressed in pressed khakis and a soft denim shirt. He looked as though he had just stepped out of a page from a magazine. "I'm all done gloating, thank you. I'm here because we never finished our meeting yesterday. I had some free time this afternoon. I was hoping you would have a few minutes to discuss your loan application."
"Oh?" Leedy said, her ears perking up at the mention of the word loan.
"Have you had lunch?" he asked.
"No. Not yet."
He was standing close enough for her to smell the clean aroma of his soap and aftershave. It was a wonderful aroma. "You shouldn't skip lunch," he said. "Especially after running the race you ran this morning."
"Thanks for the tip."
"Can you take a break?" he asked. There was a sensuous quality to his voice that made all of Leedy's resolutions from that morning a faraway memory.
"I can't leave the restaurant," she said. "But ... um ... we can eat lunch here ... if you don't mind, that is."
"This is a restaurant, isn't it?" he noted. "A very nice restaurant."
"Yes, it is," she said. "Give me a few minutes to check on things and I'll meet you in the back dining room. It's quieter there."
"I'll see you in a few minutes."
She went to the kitchen and spoke with the chef. The lunch rush was over and dinner was still hours away, and everything seemed to be running smoothly, for now. She was headed back to the dining room when she spotted Brittany coming into the kitchen.
"Can you cover for me for about a half-hour?" Leedy asked. She didn't want any interruptions during her meeting with Terry.
"Sure,
" Brittany replied. "Are you going out?"
"No," she explained. "The man from the bank is here and we are going to have a meeting. He's here to talk about my loan application."
Brittany looked through the portal of the big, swinging stainless steel doors that led to the dining room. "Since when does the bank make house calls?" she asked, scanning the restaurant. "Is that him? The guy in the blue jean shirt and the khaki's?"
"Yes."
"Hey, he's kind of cute," Brittany said, standing on her tiptoes to get a better view. "No, wait ... I take that back. He's not kind of cute, Leedy. This guy is totally hot! Where did you get him?"
"It's not what you think, Brit," she explained, feeling her face flush. "Mr. Foster is here to talk about the bank loan."
"I thought they declined it," Brittany said.
"They did, but the loan officer is here to give me some advice."
"Uh huh."
"He is!"
"I believe you," Brittany said, but the grin on her face told Leedy otherwise.
"Please, Brit," she said. "This is important to me."
Brittany knew better than anyone how much Leedy wanted her dream of opening her own restaurant to come true. She looked at Leedy and realized she was all but jumping out of her skin. "Okay, okay," Brittany said. "I'll cover for you. Now, breathe, girl, breathe!"
Leedy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Good idea," she said.
"Is this good news?" Brittany asked. "Is the bank going to reconsider your application?"
"I hope so," Leedy said as she turned toward the door. "Or he's here to tell me to go jump in a lake. Oh ... would you mind bringing us some clam chowder? And something cold to drink? And anything else that looks good?"
"For a meeting with this guy," Brittany purred. "I would go for white wine and oysters if I were you," She couldn't resist teasing her one last time. Brittany gave her friend a seductive wink and headed back to the kitchen.