Crosscheck

by Rebecca Connolly

He reached the door and hesitated, craning his neck again but this time without the satisfying cracks.

  He hated being in trouble.

  Gripping the doorknob, he gently turned it, easing the door open, the night-light in the corner the only light he could see by. A small fan was going on the nightstand, making any sound within the room harder to hear.

  He waited, straining his ears.

  “You said before bedtime.”

  Zane exhaled noisily and pushed into the room fully, dropping to his knees beside the small twin bed, smoothing the bow-patterned comforter out of habit. “I know, pumpkin. I’m sorry, the game went late.”

  “Did you win?”

  The question came on a very young yawn, and he smiled at it, looking into the face of his daughter with a fond smile. “Of course.”

  Hope smiled at him, her one vacant tooth leaving an adorable gap in her otherwise perfect smile. “Josie let me watch part of the game tonight.”

  Zane pretended to be put out. “Did she? Which part did you see?”

  “The part where you got tripped. Did you get hurt?”

  Good, she’d seen the beginning of the game, then. That had been a safe enough portion. “No, Hopey, Daddy didn’t get hurt. I’m fine, see?” He flexed his arm while growling.

  Hope was unimpressed. “We have to study the letter N tomorrow. You don’t have a game, right?”

  “Nope, so we can study the letter N all you want. I love the letter N. Noodles, night-lights, naps . . . nnwaffles . . .”

  Now his daughter giggled and playfully slapped his arm. “That’s not a word, silly.”

  Zane gasped. “It’s not? Guess I better study hard with you, huh?”

  Hope yawned again, and Zane leaned closer, brushing her thick, dark curls away from her brow. “Daddy?”

  “Hmm?”

  “How many days until my birthday?”

  He smiled at the nightly question’s appearance. “What is today’s date?”

  She counted carefully. “Second.”

  “Good. So how many days? Count it out.”

  She tried, she really did, but then she huffed and looked at him. “I need your hands too.”

  He offered both hands while she counted out on them.

  When she ran out of fingers, she counted his eyes and nose as well. “Twenty-three!” she cried.

  “Very good. That’s my smart girl.” He smiled proudly and stroked her hair again. “You ready to go to sleep now?”

  She nodded and nestled into her pillow. “I’m ready.”

  “Sleep says the daddy-o,” he recited, his thumb smoothing over her brow. “Sleep says the light. Sleep says the teddy bear . . .”

  Hope snuggled her teddy close and sighed, “And Hopey says, ‘Night-night, night.’”

  Zane nodded and pushed up a little, pressing a soft kiss to his baby girl’s forehead. “Good night, baby. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Daddy,” she replied, smiling before she shut her eyes and turned her head away.

  He stayed there for a moment, still on his knees, watching Hope as she relaxed further into her bed.

  How much longer would she want him to come see her before she went to bed? How many more times would he recite their nightly rhyme, either by her bedside or over the phone?

  How long would she remain his baby girl?

  He didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t bear the thought of anything changing. Not after everything else that had changed in their lives.

  Shaking his head, he got to his feet and exited her room, softly shutting her door behind him.

  No matter what any of his teammates thought was the perfect way to end a night with a win, it could not compete with this.

  Not even close.

  Sweat poured down her overheated face. Her heart pounded against her chest with almost painful fury. Air wasn’t coming or going easily. Her legs and arms burned in agony, begging her to stop.

  It was almost over now.

  Almost . . .

  “And march it out!” Mara Matthews grinned out at her class, all following her instructions to the best of their abilities. “Who’s tired? Anyone?”

  “No!” a chorus of voices called, some of them giggling together after bellowing their response.

  Mara gaped out at them. “You’re not? I’m exhausted! I don’t think we can do one more song, can we?”

  “Yes!” the children called, responses much less together this time, as some of the girls repeated their answer multiple times for emphasis.

  Mara wiped a hand over her brow in pretend fatigue. “Okay, I guess we can try just one more . . .” She nodded at her class assistant, who knew exactly which song to play.

  The moment the beginning notes sounded, the kids cheered.

  She knew they’d have that reaction; the three previous classes that morning had done the exact same thing, and considering it was a hit from one of the most popular children’s movies of the winter, she suspected it would be playing in her class for some time.

  Mara didn’t mind. Good music for kids was actually pretty difficult. Movie soundtracks were pretty much all she had, but she didn’t mind.

  She loved movie soundtracks for kids.

  She saw most of those movies herself.

  Might have indulged in some car-based karaoke with some of her own favorites.

  She’d never tell.

  “All right, hands above the head and clap!” she called, demonstrating the clapping to the beat of the song. “Clap! Clap! Clap! Now stomp, two, three, four . . .”

  She continued on in her cheeriest voice, most of the kids able to follow the instructions well enough. Coordination wasn’t required for her classes, only enthusiasm, and they were very good with the enthusiasm.

  “And turn, two, three, four,” Mara instructed, enjoying the giggles that erupted when the girls couldn’t manage to turn and move sideways at the same time. “Forward, two, three, four, to the left . . .”

  Two little girls in the back, who were identical in appearance except for the fact that they looked nothing alike, screeched in hilarity as they crashed into each other. They were dressed in perfect coordination with each other, down to the laces on their shoes and the height of their pigtails. Their blue skirts over pink leggings made Mara smile, and she made a mental note to host a princess day sometime soon for her class.

  She had a decent ball gown that she’d be able to instruct in well enough.

  Maybe not breathe, but instructing should be fine.

  “Clap again!” she told the class. “And step and clap, left, right, left, right . . .”

  She had to laugh as the kids tried to roll their arms from side to side as she did, a few in the back managing well enough, while the little ones couldn’t seem to figure it out.

  It didn’t keep them from enjoying themselves. Did nothing to remove the smiles from their faces.

  That was one of the things she loved best about teaching the kids’ classes. Their limitations did not affect their enjoyment. There was no pride to block their way, no fear of judgment, and no hesitation in giving each song everything they had.

  Mara would teach exercise classes for kids a dozen times a day rather than teach one adult class.

  Since no one else at the club had any interest in any of the kids’ classes, she didn’t have to worry about that. After all, these classes had been her idea.

  Well, they’d been her niece’s idea, technically, after Mara had grown particularly desperate for entertainment options when Maddie’s mom and dad had taken longer than expected to come home. Four songs from a movie later, and both little girls had stopped fighting, being reduced to breathless giggling instead.

  “You should make an exercise class like this, Aunt Mara,” her niece had said. “That was so much fun, and good for us too, right?”

  And here she was, every Saturday morning now spoken for, sleeping in reduced to only one day a week.

  Such was the sacrifice.

  “Big finale!
” She put her hands on her hips. “And jump and shimmy. Jump and shimmy. Jump and body roll!”

  Giggles rent the air, and hers were among them.

  That was another reason she didn’t mind the sacrifice; their joy was infectious.

  “Big roll of the arms down low,” she called. “Roll it all the way up . . . and punch, punch, punch, WOO!”

  The kids echoed her cheer, tiny fists lifted in the air, some still giggling while they did so.

  Mara smiled widely and clapped. “There we go! That was great; you guys are getting so good! We are all done for today.”

  Groans and whining rose up from the group, and Mara pouted for effect.

  “I know, guys, I know! But it’s okay, we’ll see you back here next week! And do you remember what next Saturday is?”

  The would-be twins in the back raised their hands.

  Mara grinned and pointed at them. “Hope and Claire?”

  “Kids’ choice!” they cried.

  “That’s right! Find your favorite songs to dance to, and we just might get to do that next time!”

  That seemed to get rid of the disappointment, and all of the kids chattered about what they might pick as they moved to the back of the room to get their bags and bottles of water.

  “Okay, kids,” the room assistant called, “don’t forget, you can leave this room, but you have to stay on this side of the rainbow desk until your parent comes and signs you out!”

  None of the kids were particularly listening, but they knew the rule well. It wasn’t often that they wanted to go past the rainbow desk anyway, considering Miss Hannah always had treats there for the ones who were patient. Sometimes healthy treats, sometimes not, but always there were treats.

  And Miss Hannah didn’t have any problem with refusing to hand it out if someone broke the rules.

  Mara exhaled roughly as the kids began to trickle out of the room to see what Miss Hannah had on hand today. She wiped at her brow, this time not faking it, and sat on the floor with a groan, stretching her legs out and bending at the waist over them, wishing she could actually get her nose to touch the black leggings she wore like she’d once been able to. With adulthood had come a decrease in her flexibility, and try as she might, she couldn’t bring it back.

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  Mara straightened and gave a tired smile to the room assistant, who was not her usual one and whose name she had completely forgotten from earlier in the morning. “Do what?”

  “Teach four of those classes in a row!” The woman shook her head, tight black braids swinging back and forth. “Girl, you’ve got more energy than half of those kids, and the patience of a saint.”

  “No, I really don’t,” Mara insisted with a laugh. “I’m really good at faking it, and I plan on a serious nap when I get home. If I can move.”

  The assistant wrinkled her nose, making a face as Mara stretched her legs out to the side and groaned. “Sore today?”

  Mara nodded. “I didn’t sleep well, woke up so tight, and then the classes . . .” She laughed again and squinted up at the woman. “Getting moving was a whole lot easier when I was a teenager.”

  That earned her a snort of derision. “Honey, wait until forty comes around. Nothing moves the way it should, and other things move that never moved before.” She shook her head, frowning dramatically. “Mmm. Just ain’t right.” Whistling for effect, the assistant shook her head one more time as she walked towards the doors of the room, picking up a few towels that had been left behind by students.

  Mara chuckled and bent herself at the waist again, reaching her hands out, crawling her fingers forward along the floor. She hissed and sighed when she reached her limits, and she put her head down, relaxing her shoulders until her arms seemed to just land alongside her.

  She hadn’t exaggerated to the assistant; she really had slept poorly—kinked her back or some such—and moving today hadn’t been nearly as easy as it should have been. She wasn’t the most limber person in the world, but she definitely didn’t have spasms in her back from four Zumba classes for kids most of the time. She bent her knees and brought her legs to center, rising up just enough to pull her legs beneath her until she was curled into a ball. She exhaled slowly, then rocked her hips back until she felt her shoes on her behind before walking her hands forward again.

  This time she groaned at the perfect stretch in her particularly sore back. Biting down on her lip, she forced herself to breathe more deeply, trying to get her coiled muscles to relax.

  The soreness radiating in her arms and legs told her that wasn’t particularly likely today.

  Oh well.

  “What are you doing?”

  Mara froze in the middle of her lame attempt at relaxation breathing, and she lifted her head.

  One of the almost twins stood there, looking strangely small without her counterpart, brown pigtails lopsided due to the tilt of her head, quizzical expression on her adorable face.

  Was this one Hope or Claire? One was a redhead, the other brunette, but they were so close and united in everything, telling them apart was a challenge.

  “This,” Mara informed the girl, frantically trying to figure out her name while smiling at her, “is called Child’s Pose. And it’s helping me stretch out, which is important to do after exercise.”

  “My daddy is always stretching,” the girl said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. Then she frowned. “Miss Mara, why didn’t we stretch after class if it’s important?”

  This was a smart one, and Mara doubted she missed much.

  She liked her more for that.

  “We ran out of time,” Mara told her apologetically.

  “Can I stretch with you now?”

  Mara nodded and gestured beside her. “Of course. See how my legs are?”

  The little girl nodded and came to sit on her heels next to Mara, her tongue sticking out a little as she adjusted her position in an attempt to mirror her. She stretched her arms out as far as she could go, strain evident on her face, her bum high in the air rather than at her heels. “Like this?”

  “Almost,” Mara replied, trying desperately not to laugh. “Try to touch your bum to your shoes. See?” She wiggled her feet to show them off.

  “Oh.” A frown appeared on the young face, and she forced herself back before trying to stretch her hands out again.

  Mara nodded with a smile. “There you go. That’s it, don’t lift off, just stay there. Good!”

  “I feel it!” The little girl grinned over at her with pride. “Am I stretching?”

  “You are!” Mara lowered her head to continue her own stretch. “Lower your head a little. Feel that in your neck?”

  “Yeah! Let’s do another one!”

  Mara chuckled. “Hold on, we need a few more seconds. Can you count to fifteen for us?”

  She did so, drawing each number out as though she were about to start hide and seek.

  “Good. Now we’re going to sit up . . .” She moved into position, waiting for her stretching partner to do the same. “And then reach one arm over your head and lean to the same side.”

  They both did so, Mara wincing at the tension flaring in her back at the action while her tiny partner seemed more focused than anyone should be while stretching.

  “Fifteen!” called the girl. “And switch!”

  Mara laughed out loud and did so, giving her a look. “You were very good at that. Are you trying to take my job?”

  “No!”

  “You sure?”

  “Hopey-Dopey, where are you?”

  Mara looked up at the door of the room to see a thin, beautiful woman in perfectly fitted workout clothes standing there, grinning at the little girl, perspiring in a way that Mara could only describe as glistening.

  She’d never glistened in her entire life.

  Red-faced and dripping was more Mara’s style.

  Embarrassing wet patches on workout tanks.

  Random strands of hair rising from her scalp and
curling at odd angles.

  That was Mara.

  Not this perfection embodied, who apparently had just gotten enough of a workout to feel satisfied while looking as though she were modeling the workout clothes rather than functioning in them.

  But that didn’t matter right now. Not really.

  Mara looked at the girl beside her, who was, it seemed, Hope and not Claire.

  “We’re stretching!” Hope cheerily called with a wave. “It’s important after exercise.”

  “I know,” the woman replied. “I just finished my stretching.”

  Faintly Mara wondered if she was able to touch her nose to her kneecaps.

  Perfection tossed her long, perfectly blond ponytail and gave another dazzling smile. “I’m sorry, bug, but we really do need to go. Remember why?”

  Hope gasped almost dramatically. “Ooh! I forgot!” She jumped up and dashed to the door but turned around before she reached it. “Thank you for the class, Miss Mara, and thank you for stretching with me.”

  Mara folded her legs in and smiled at her. “You are very welcome, Hope. See you next week.”

  Hope waved and dashed out of the room, Perfection following behind her.

  So not fair.

  Sighing, Mara got to her feet and made her way out of the room, flipping off the lights as she did so. Out at the rainbow desk, Miss Hannah was giving out the last of the treats to the few straggling kids.

  “All done, Mara?” Miss Hannah asked without looking up. “You must be tired.”

  Mara smiled at her and took the baggie of cookies from the basket when it was offered. “I am, but these will help.”

  “And you worked all week?”

  “Of course. Dr. Hayden is as busy as ever, and I’m busy running his schedule. After that madness?” She gestured to the giggling kids waiting to be picked up. “This is easy.”

  Miss Hannah laughed and waved as one of the little girls left the children’s section with her mother. “If you say so. Oh dear.” Miss Hannah came around the edge of the desk and picked up a pink jacket. “I think Hope left this behind.”

  It was too chilly outside this morning for anyone to go without a coat of some kind, and Mara hated to think of that little sweetheart getting a cold in her excitement to go.