David stumbled into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee pot then turned around and pointed to the newspaper I was holding.
“You’re the only person I know who still reads a physical newspaper.”
I looked out over the top rim of my reading classes. “So, you’re saying I’m a dinosaur.”
David pulled out a chair and sat. “No, you’re just old-school in a lot of ways, but I appreciate it.”
“Appreciate it?”
“Well, you know what I mean. It’s endearing.”
“Endearing?”
“God, I’m just going to shut up, Mom.”
I reached over and patted his arm. “I miss having you around if only to remind me how ancient I am.”
David hit his forehead with the palm of his hand.
I laughed. “Most of my friends read the news online, too. But I still love holding the actual paper, just as I prefer holding a book over reading a digital book. But, I’m making progress. I broke open the tablet you and Tory bought me for Christmas and I have to admit being able to download a book seconds after finishing one is convenient.”
David nodded. “Uh, yeah.”
“So, what are your plans today?”
“I figured I’d visit Grandma and Grandpa and maybe catch up with Eric later. What about you?”
“I’m meeting Renee at the gym.”
“Who’s Renee? A guy?”
“No, it’s not a guy.”
A mischievous grin sprouted on David’s face. “Well, it could be. Renee is a guy’s name as well as a girl’s.”
“Well, this one’s a girl.”
David sipped his coffee. “So, how does that work, anyway? Does she work out with you? Make you a plan to follow? Keep track of your progress?”
“Yes, yes, and yes. She does all of those things. And…” I held up my cell phone. “She even texts to remind me of a session.”
“Wow! Now that’s service.”
David found some cereal in the pantry and poured a bowl full.
“I could made you some eggs,” I said.
“No, I’m good. I normally just drink a protein shake for breakfast.”
David sat down to eat his cereal. “So, where’s the list, Mom?”
“Somewhere you won’t find it!”
“Ah, come on. Why not share it with me?”
“There’s only one other person who knows what’s on that list and it’s going to stay that way.”
“Must have something to hide,” David kidded.
“Nothing to hide; I just want to keep it to myself. I want it to be my thing, if that makes sense.”
David nodded. “No, I get it. That’s how I am about my fitness journal.”
“I never knew you kept a fitness journal.”
“That’s because it’s my thing.” He winked. “I keep track of how I’m doing, write down my thoughts. It helps me stay focused and I enjoy seeing my progress over time.”
“Maybe I should keep a fitness journal,” I said.
“You should.”
I poured myself another cup of coffee. “You ought to call Grandpa and Grandma to make sure they’re going to be home.”
“I’ll do that now.”
While David called his grandparents, I called Shonna. She’d texted wanting to know how the graduation had gone and I’d told her I’d call.
“So how is His Assedness today?” I asked.
“No change,” Shonna said. “And yesterday I had a little too much to drink and he took advantage of me last night. I hate drunk sex. I think I slept through most of it. He’s not getting sober sex until I get a dog!”
I laughed.
“Enough about His Assedness. Tell me about Tory’s graduation.”
I gave Shonna the condensed version. “Seeing Tory in her black cap and gown brought tears to my eyes. It seemed like only yesterday she was graduating from nursery school. I found a Polaroid the other day of Tory and David when they were two and four. They were building a sandcastle on the beach and Mike was helping. When you think about it, life is like a series of Polaroids, a constant feed of snapshots, one after another. As I held that Polaroid in my hand, a wave of longing for what once was and regret for what might have been knocked me about. The sandcastle was gone.”
“That’s so sad,” Shonna said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be. Look, it’s not too late for you and Roger. I know he can be an ass, but try talking to him. I think your sandcastle is worth saving.”
As I walked into the gym, Renee was finishing up working with a middle-aged man who looked to be as out of shape as I was. She waved and I headed for the locker room to stash my bag. I took a deep breath and walked back into the gym.
I pushed in my earbuds and started walking on the treadmill while listening to a playlist David had helped me make.
Renee finished working with the older man and headed my way. I pulled out an earbud so I could hear her.
“You’re doing great. Start with a ten-minute warm-up. I’ll be back and we’ll start on the machines.”
I stuck my earbud back in and glanced over at the guy working out next to me. He was running about ten times faster than I was walking. I glanced at the dashboard. His speed was 7.2. Mine was 3.2. I reached out and pressed the up arrow, stopping at 3.8
Renee returned just as I finished walking. “Great, Scarlett. Ready to hit the machines?”
I followed Renee to a row of machines on the lower floor.
“We’re going to start with the leg press,” she said.
I watched as she showed me what to do. “I want you to start out with one set of eight to twelve repetitions using a weight heavy enough to tire the muscle.”
I exchanged places with Renee and did as she instructed. She made working on the machines look so easy, but it wasn’t for me. In the next hour we tackled a half dozen machines working various parts of the body. Legs. Arms. Butt.
“Remember,” Renee said, “it should take four to five seconds to complete one repetition through a complete range of motion in a slow and controlled manner. There’s nothing gained by moving through repetitions quickly.”
I never did like weight training and I discovered I hated it even more than I remembered. “I don’t suppose I can just skip the strength training and do cardio?”
Renee shook her head. “No. And if you can perform thirty reps with a certain weight, it’s likely time to increase it a bit. Don’t increase the weight more than five percent at a time, though.”
“Ugh!” I hate this. I finished the shoulder press and Renee handed me my bottle of water. “So, how often do I have to make nice with these machines?”
Renee laughed. “At least twice a week. You can take one day off from weight training between each workout. I want you to start with one repetition and increase it to two repetitions in a week or so.”
“Scar-lett!”
Oh, great. That bitch is here. I heard Janice’s shrill, annoying voice coming from somewhere behind me. The ponytail on top of her head bobbed as she strutted in front of me wearing tight purple spandex. “I never would’ve guessed you came here.” She stressed “never” and “here.”
I felt my blood start to boil. What she really meant was that, given my current appearance… er, weight… she never would’ve guessed I worked out. The truth was, she was right. I didn’t look like I belonged in a gym any more than she looked like she belonged at a support-group meeting for overweight people.
“I just started coming,” I explained. As if I have to explain to anyone, especially Janice, what I’m doing at the gym.
Her eyes scanned my body from head to toe. “I thought so.”
Bitch. I can’t believe you just said that.
Janice must’ve noticed my nostrils flare and my eyes twitch. “What I meant to say is that I’ve been coming here for years and never run into you.”
I saw Renee bite her bottom lip. “Can I offer you some advice?”
Janice furrowed her eyebrows. “I guess.”
“I noticed you working out earlier. You use too much weight. You’re swinging the weight and your form suffers as a result. Greater momentum increases the potential for injury and reduces the effectiveness to the muscle group you’re targeting.”
You go, girl! Way to stuff a sock in Janice’s snooty mouth!
“And who are you?” Janice asked.
“I’m a personal trainer,” Renee say. “You might consider booking some sessions to get help with correcting your bad form.”
Janice muttered something and walked away. I looked at Renee. “Thanks.”
“No problem. People like that make my skin itch. And I didn’t make any of that up. She does have bad form. She’s one of those people who come to the gym more to socialize than to work out. How do you know her anyway?”
“Her daughter and mine used to be good friends. Unfortunately, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and when she made an ass out of Tory at her senior prom, their friendship ended.”
Renee patted my back. “Well, don’t let her discourage you. In fact, tap into your feelings for her and use that to motivate you. Every time you feel like quitting, just think of Janice smirking and saying ‘I thought so.’ That will keep you going.”
I smiled. “Great idea!” I really liked Renee. I knew she had my back and, if I continued to work with her, would get me where I wanted to be.
I left the gym tired but feeling as if I’d really accomplished something. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this good about myself. As I drove home, it started to rain. It was coming down so heavy I had to pull over because I was having trouble seeing. When I finally made it home, I pulled into the garage, parked the car, took off my sneakers and socks and walked outside. Dance in the rain. It was on my list. Now seemed as good a time as any.
I wondered if the neighbors would notice and then I thought, who cares? So I danced in the driveway, spinning around and jumping and waving my arms. And laughing. The driving rain stung my skin and I became lost in the moment, allowing the rain to wash away my worries and insecurities. I visualized it washing away the calcifications in my breast. I felt more alive than I had in a long time.
I was jolted back to reality when I heard a car horn. I looked up to see David pulling into the driveway. He shook his head, but after parking his car he joined me.
He laughed. “You’re crazy, Mom!”
I grabbed his hands and we danced together. Spinning, laughing, hugging. It wasn’t how I’d envisioned our mother-son dance, but I was glad we hadn’t waited until he got married to have it. If there was anything I’d learned over the years, it’s that tomorrows are never guaranteed. The suspicious mammogram had driven this point home even more. You had to live in the moment, value each day as if it were your last. Sometimes another day didn’t come. Sometimes you got breast cancer. Sometimes you died long before you figured you would. You had to dance in the rain while you could.
I opened my mouth to laugh and tasted salt. It wasn’t the rain. It was a tear that had zig-zagged down my wet cheek and slid into the corner of my mouth.