9433 steps
It was a breathtaking morning. The moon hung around to greet the pink streaks of dawn when they appeared. The air was cool but not cold, breezy but not too breezy. We swung our arms and lengthened our strides and picked up the pace. By the time we got to the beach, the endorphins, those opiate-like, feel good hormones, were already kicking in.
So I tested out a high intensity interval training workout I’d learned during my health coach training. HIIT is really simple and it’s been around forever. And it’s back in vogue again because it’s so effective. We walked for another two minutes, just to make sure we were good and warmed up. Then we walked/jogged as fast as we possibly could for twenty seconds. Next we recovered, walking at a slower pace, for forty seconds. I probably could have figured out how to use the timer on my Fitbit, assuming it had one, but instead we just counted the seconds out loud like a chant—one-Mississippi, two Mississippi—and ballparked it. Eight sets of fast and slow intervals and we were done.
“That was a lot of Mississippis,” Tess said. “I think next time we should say Massachusetts instead. It’s the same number of syllables, and that way we can spread it around geographically. If we want to consider other state possibilities, that United States map is still hanging up in your garage, Noreen. Or we could just start with the As and work our way through the four-syllable options. Alabama . . . Arizona . . .”
“You’re such an elementary school teacher,” I said.
“Why, thank you.” Tess struck a pose. “I resemble that remark.”
Rosie wiped her forehead with the gray beard of her barbarian hat. “I can’t believe what a workout that was.”
“Right?” I said. “It’s so time-efficient, and you can even do it walking/jogging in place in front of the TV. A two-minute warm-up plus eight HIIT sets gives you the same benefits as a much longer workout, with less wear and tear on your body.”
“Not to mention the same perspiration,” Tess said. “I’ll be thinking of you when my darling students hold their noses and say pee-yoo every time I walk by. I prefer sweat-free workouts after my morning shower, thank you very much.”
“Showering when you feel like it,” Rosie said, “is one of the perks of being self-employed.”
Or unemployed, I almost said. But I stopped myself, because I didn’t want to ruin my endorphin buzz.
We were back at my house already. Tess, Rosie and I stood for a moment at the end of my cobblestone walkway, taking in the Noreens.
Tess unzipped her jacket and bent over to untie her laces. Even though she was already wearing about two-thirds of her school clothes, she liked to give herself a head start on the final bits. One of these days she’d show up to walk with us swinging her canvas teacher bag in one hand and her insulated lunch tote in the other.
Rosie bent down and rearranged the ivy necklace on a statue. “Okay, give me an hour to get the kids on the bus and make a few phone calls, then I’ll be right over with my truck.”
“Great,” I said.
Tess squinted. “Are you two hanging out without the other third of The Wildwater Walking Club? That could get tricky.”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “Noreen is just helping me change the sparkplugs on my truck.”
“Right,” Tess said. “Like either of you would know a sparkplug if it bit you on the muffler pads.”
High on yesterday’s semi-success with the chickens and the extra endorphins generated by this morning’s HIIT session, I decided to call Fresh Horizons again while I waited for Rosie.
“Fresh Horizons,” said the same chirpy female voice that had answered last time. “Private and small-group career coaching and counseling, online and in person, plus personalized job search and resume writing assistance.” She gulped down some air. “When you make a serious, fully conscious decision to invest in yourself, it will be the biggest investment you ever make. So start your bright future today . . . the Fresh Horizons way.”
“Hi,” I said. “I don’t know if you’ll remember me, but we spoke a few days ago. I told you I’m a recently certified health coach and you said you could set up a small group test teach for me?”
“Oh, that’s right. Of course.” I could tell she was only pretending to remember me. “How about 9 AM tomorrow at Fresh Horizons South?”
That seemed awfully quick to me. Plus, Rosie would be back in an hour, and who knew how long it would take to get rid of the Noreens. Plus, getting rid of the Noreens might end up with Rick and me kissing and making up, so that might cut into my prep time, too. But, on the other hand, I’d just committed to coaching chickens, so I already knew, as we used to say way back whenever, that beggars can’t be choosers.
“Perfect,” I said. “I’ll put it right on my calendar.” I wrote 9 AM tomorrow in the air, because I had no idea where my calendar was. Come to think of it, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d looked at a calendar, digital or paper.
“Okay, bye-bye,” the Fresh Horizons woman cheeped.
“Wait,” I said. “Can you tell me a little bit about how this all works?”
“I email you a link to a teaching video. You watch it and then tomorrow you go in and do your thing and video yourself doing it and email the video to me. Then, if you don’t totally suck, I’ll send you tax forms and a schedule.”
“Got it,” I said. “Do you want my email address? And maybe my name?”
“Okay,” she said.
I gave them to her, though I wasn’t one hundred percent sure she was paying attention.
“Thank you so much for giving me a chance,” I said. “I promise I won’t let you down.”
“No problem,” she said.
I was waiting on my front steps when Rosie pulled into my driveway with the big lavender farm truck. Seeing the purple truck always made me remember Rosie telling me that when her mother was slipping into dementia, the one thing she held onto was her love of all things lavender. She stopped cleaning the house, and one day when Rosie and her husband brought their sons to visit, she’d painted everything purple so the dirt wouldn’t show. The walls and the refrigerator, inside and out. Even the toilet seat. The paint wasn’t quite dry on that, so they all had purple rings around their butts for the next two weeks.
Rosie slid partway out of the truck and jumped to the ground. I wondered if she had to get a running start with her short legs to make it all the way back up to the seat.
“Did your mom paint the truck, too?” I said. “If so, she did a great job.”
Rosie untied her purple bandanna, rearranged it over her curls, began tying it tighter. “It used to be white. She painted it with a brush during her purple period, but it wasn’t her finest work. So after she died, we brought the truck to an auto body shop and had it painted as a kind of memorial to her.”
Rosie pointed. Small white letters on the side of the truck spelled Rosemary beneath a sprig of the herb. Rosie was named after her mom, and rosemary was related to lavender, and the world was such a beautiful and heartbreaking place.
My eyes teared up. “What a lovely tribute to your mom.”
“Thanks. Did you do something for your dad when he died?”
I blinked the tears away and smiled. “We had his name engraved on a ball washer for his favorite hole at the golf course. At first, the country club wasn’t quite sure how to handle it, especially since he died of a heart attack on the course. But eventually they came around and installed it. My dad would have loved it—both the ball washer and freaking them out.”
“We’ll never stop missing them,” Rosie said, “will we?”
“Nope,” I said. “Not if we live to be a gazillion.”
“Or a katrillion,” Rosie said.
Rosie and I looked at each other, shook our heads. I thought she’d say something first, but she waited me out.
“How can they move on so easily?” I finally said. “I mean, most of the time I’m really happy for them, but other times I think it’s kind of disloyal of them to be having so much fun.”
“Exactly,” Rosie said.
“My mother was barely twenty when she married my dad,” I said.
“My father was twenty-two when he married my mom,” Rosie said.
“They were married for fifty-one years,” we said at once.
“Owe me a Coke,” we both said.
“I think we’re going to hell for that,” I said. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to owe Cokes over deceased parents.”
“Oh, well,” Rosie said. “I think they’d be fine with it.”
I shook my head. “But, wow, how crazy that they were married for the exact same number of years. Maybe it feels to them like they lived parallel lives or something.”
Rosie nodded. “And they both know up close and personal that nothing lasts forever.”
“So you’ve just got to seize the day and all that.” Even as I said it, I knew it was easier said than done. At least for me.
“Speaking of seizing the day,” Rosie said. “If you give me ten fingers so I can climb up on the bed of the truck, I’ll slide the ramp down and get the dolly out so we can load up those statues and take them over to Alison’s gallery.”
“The gallery?” I said. “Shouldn’t we just drop them off at Rick’s?”
“Way more awkward,” Rosie said. “This way we can just act like we’re simply making a delivery to a place of business.”
“We?” I folded my arms over my chest. “I guess I was thinking that you and I could load the statues on the truck, and then you could drive them over to Rick’s house.” I uncrossed my arms, crossed them again with the other arm on top. “I mean, even if he hates me, I’m sure he’ll help you unload them.”
Rosie looked at me.
I went to cross my arms again, realized they were still crossed. “Plus, I have a teaching tryout I haven’t even started studying for.”
Rosie crossed her arms to match mine. “Are you serious? Do you have any idea how much I have to do between now and when Connor and Nick get off the bus? There’s no food in the house, I’m late on two landscape plans, your freakin’ mother won’t get out of my mother’s kitchen. I mean, I know it’s my kitchen now, or my father’s, but—”
“Sorry.” I could feel my cheeks going from red to redder. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Rosie never yelled. “Listen, just leave the statues here. I’ll think it through and figure out something else.”
Rosie’s cheeks were red, too. “You might have time to perseverate on petty details. But I cannot handle. One. More. Thing.”
I opened my mouth, closed it again. Rosie was already storming off to the truck. She opened the purple door, took a running leap up to the driver’s seat. When she slammed the door, I could see Rosemary again.
I thought she was just going to drive away, but she rolled down the window.
“As for figuring out something, you might want to think quick,” she said. “The average first frost in Marshbury is somewhere between now and the end of October. Once the foliage on those statues freezes out here, they’re not going to be much good to anyone without some major replanting.”
“Okay.” I said it softly so I wouldn’t start to cry.
The purple truck shuddered when Rosie put it into gear.
“Take your mother,” she said before she barreled out of my driveway. “Please.”