I wake up way before my seven a.m. alarm. I’m beyond excited, but before I jump out of bed I force myself to do my morning bed stretches and affirmations. This is something Garth made me start while I was injured. Here goes.
“My mind and body are in perfect balance. I am unlimited.”
Nice, right? Loving myself isn’t really up my alley, but I find this very empowering. It’s better than the mantra I used to have, which was “Get your fat ass out of bed.”
I know today is just a store-sponsored mini mud run, but to me it’s the Olympic Decathlon and the Super Bowl rolled into one and placed in a large bag of chips. My nerves are crack-a-lacking. I’m going back to the scene of my crushing defeat—my complete and utter breakdown in the face of physical challenge. That was a bad bad day. The only thing that could have made it worse would have been shitting myself while trying to get over the wall.
But today, that wall is mine. “My mind and body are in perfect balance. I am unlimited.”
I hoist my fat ass out of bed and drag it to the shower. Max is still sleeping. I can only assume Ron is already at the store supervising the setup. I don’t have to be there until nine.
God, I wish I had slept longer; I was up so late. I lean against the shower wall for support. As luck would have it, Ron and I chose last night to finally hash out Textgate. Things had certainly been lightening up between us, but we hadn’t had a real discussion about it. After I put Max to bed, I joined Ron in our bedroom and caught him reading something on my phone.
“Is that my phone?” I tried not to sound too indignant, because we’ve always had an open-phone policy in our marriage. But seeing him scrolling without even asking kind of set me on edge.
“Yeah, it is,” he answered without any guilt in his voice. “I was rereading those texts you had with Don.”
Okay, so we’re doing this. I girded my loins and jumped in.
“See anything you missed the first time around?” I asked.
“Yeah, a lot. You guys were really chatting it up.”
“Just about stupid stuff.” I walked over and sat on the bed beside him.
“I can see that.” He continued to look at my phone and not me.
I touched his arm. “Ron, I’m sorry. I really am.”
“I still don’t understand why you felt the need to have such a back-and-forth with this guy. Am I not interesting enough?”
I sighed. How could I say, “It’s not you, it’s me,” without sounding trite?
“Sweetie, this is all on me. You are more than enough of everything I could possibly want in life. But according to my mother, I’m having a bit of a midlife crisis.”
Finally Ron looked at me.
“What’s the crisis?”
“Uh, I’m forty-eight, my best years are behind me, and I’m going to be a grandmother.”
Alarmed, he sat up. “What? Who’s pregnant?”
“Well, no one yet, but it’s coming just like everything else.”
“Jesus, Jen, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry. It’s just what I think about.”
“What else do you think about?” He seemed leery of my answer.
I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes. Cripes, what don’t I think about?
“I think about how I look just a little less attractive every day. I think that when I’m sixty, Max will just be finishing high school. I wonder if I should have had a career instead of a bunch of jobs. I wonder why you love me and when you might stop. I worry that I’m not a good enough wife, daughter, mother, and friend. And I worry that if this is it, this is my whole life, will it be enough?”
There was a long pause, and then my husband said, “That’s it?”
It took me a moment to realize he was joking. I started to belly-laugh. He lay down beside me.
“So this is why you started flirting with an old boyfriend?”
“He was never my boyfriend. But…” I was trying to nail down what had been driving me this whole time.
“But … it made you feel young?”
Ding ding ding! Ron for the win.
“I guess in a way it did. I mean, he knew me before college, before kids … before you.”
“Well, he knew the young you, but not the best you, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t know if I would have liked seventeen-year-old Jen as much as forty-seven-year-old Jen.”
“Forty-eight,” I corrected him.
“Right, forty-eight. I’m sorry you’re having a midlife crisis about getting old, but you need to see yourself through our eyes.”
“Our eyes?”
“Mine and Max’s. We love you and think you’re amazing. That ski trip was no fun without you, and not just because no one made skillet tacos or us.”
I started to say something, but Ron cut me off.
“Let me finish. You are everything to us … to me. But if we aren’t enough for you, then that scares me.”
I sat up on the bed. “You are! You are! I love my life with you guys and with the girls. It’s just hard getting older. I’m not the prettiest girl at the party anymore, and I need to adjust to that.”
Ron sat up beside me and pulled me into his arms.
“You will always be the prettiest girl at my party. Don’t ever doubt it.”
Corny, right? But it was music to my ears, and the makeup sex really burst the dam of tension between us. I’m so glad we had it out. I just wish it hadn’t been the night before the mini mud run, because now I’m physically and mentally wiped.
Out of the shower I grab my cell phone and check the weather. Sunny, with a high of 67 degrees: perfect.
I put on a pair of Lululemon cropped yoga pants, my favorite workout bra, and one of the Fitting Room T-shirts Ron had made for the event. I run a brush through my hair and decide a ponytail will be my best bet.
I’m humming the Rocky theme as I run down to the kitchen and whip up some scrambled egg on Ezekiel bread with ketchup—my breakfast of champions.
It’s 7:30 and I’m ready to go. Shit. I need a distraction, so I go into Max’s bedroom and rumble around until he wakes up from the noise.
“Hi, Mommy,” he says through a yawn.
“Hey, buddy.” I curl up in his race-car bed with him and snuggle.
“Is your run today?” he asks.
“Yup.”
“Are you going to win?”
“I will win just by finishing the course.”
He grabs my face so I’m looking right at him.
“Mommy. Winning is winning.” He sounds like Ron.
“No, sweetie, winning is doing your best.” I pull him into a hug.
“Want to hear my song about winning?”
“Sure.” I stifle a yawn. “Lay it on me.”
“Winning, winning, winning, winning, winning,” he sings softly, to the tune of absolutely nothing recognizable. I shut my eyes and sigh with happiness.
“Mommy!”
I open my eyes and something has changed. The light in the room is different, and Max smells like cheese.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He goes over to his iPad Mini and opens it. “It’s eight-five-five.”
“What the fu … dge.” I scramble off the bed. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Yeah, when I was singing. So I went down and made my own breakfast without using the oven or the microwave.” He sounds so proud of himself.
Boy, nothing good ever comes from me dozing off. I start pulling clothes out of the dresser and throwing them on his bed. “Sweetie, we have to get going. Can you get yourself dressed?”
“But Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is on.”
“Max, you knew you were going to miss it today. Please get dressed and meet me in the kitchen.”
“I don’t feel like it.” He’s pouting and whining now.
“Max, please! This is my big day. I need full cooperation. Lock and load, let’s go.” I start pulling his PJs off.
“No! Stop it! Don’t! Hands are not for hitting!” he yells.
“I’m not hitting you. I’m undressing you. Stop fussing around!” I’m inches from losing it. “What is wrong with you?”
And as I say it, I know.
“What did you make yourself for breakfast?”
“Cheez Whiz,” he grumbles.
He’s hungry.
“Buddy, how about you get dressed and I’ll let you have two Pop-Tarts for breakfast. Then you can watch a DVD in the car on the way to the store.”
Threats and bribes are the only two ways I know how to parent. Luckily, this bribe works and before you can say, “Jen’s a crappy mom,” Max and I are in the minivan and speeding downtown to the store.
As we pull into the parking lot, it looks like the circus has come to town. There is a big orange tent where people are gathering. A large blue, orange, and white banner has been hung on the building welcoming everyone to the Governor’s Get Fit Mini Mud Run sponsored by the Fitting Room.
“Max, look at that!” I yell so he can hear me over the headphones. The sight is impressive enough to tear him away from his movie.
“Whoa!” he yells. “Cool.”
And indeed it is cool. Ron’s team has done an amazing job putting together a fierce-but-not-too-fierce obstacle course, which covers half the parking lot and the adjoining field. It takes me a minute to register that, much to my horror, a fire obstacle has been included. They’ve really upped the ante from last year.
There is no room for cars in the lot, so I have to park down the street. Max and I rush back to the parking lot and wend our way through the crowd to where Ron is registering participants and getting liability waivers signed.
“Hey, sorry we’re late.”
“Are you late?” Ron doesn’t even look up. I can tell he is overwhelmed by the turnout. I know it’s a big day for him, but it’s a big one for me, too.
I leave Max to hang with his dad and the rest of the team behind the desk. In the parking lot, I bump into Hunter’s two moms. Kim and Carol are dressed in matching shorts and homemade T-shirts that say “Team Hunter.” I give them both a hug.
“You guys look great!”
“Thanks. I can’t believe that obstacle course!” says Kim or Carol. “I’m a little intimidated.”
“It’s bigger than the one they had last year,” I tell them.
“Did you do it last year?”
“Uh, you could say that.” I really don’t want to relive the shame of last year’s failed attempt. I spot Garth, Nina, and Chyna over by the door to the store and excuse myself.
“How are you feeling?” Garth asks after I hug all of them.
“I’m a little frazzled. I fell back asleep and woke up, like, fifteen minutes ago,” I tell them. “Chyna, sweetie, want to make twenty bucks the hard way?”
She smiles and walks toward the tent where Max is.
“I already told her that’s what she’s here for,” Nina assures me. “How are you and Ron doing?”
“We finally talked about it last night.”
Nina raises her perfect eyebrows. “Boy, when Ron says he needs time and space, he isn’t joking.”
“I know, right?”
“So, are you forgiven?”
“You could say that.” I blush, thinking once again about our makeup sex. “I think he was determined to prove that my reality is better than any fantasy.”
Nina smiles. “Pulled out all the stops, did he?”
I lean in and tell her she’ll get all the details later. Right now I need to focus.
I turn to Garth.
“As soon as I saw the course, my groin started to hurt. Is that normal?”
“You’ll be fine. It’s a great course. I’m looking forward to it.”
“And I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.” Nina gives his arm a squeeze.
“Me, too,” I purr.
“All right. Cut it out right now. Jeez.” Garth is blushing at our now ongoing joke.
Hot Dad Jean-Luc and Kim Fancy are having a tête-à-tête over by the Gatorade stand, which is right in my line of vision. Kim is wearing a long-sleeved black unitard that makes her already thin body seem emaciated. Jean-Luc is looking mighty fine in thigh-length running shorts and a hoodie. I look down at my T-shirt and leggings and realize I should have put a little more thought into my outfit.
I wave to them both and start to walk over. Don Burgess’s baby mama, Ali, falls into step with me; I completely forgot she’d signed up. I wonder if she knows about the texting drama, or if she would care.
“Hey there. Thanks for letting me do this,” she says, panting a little. “My New Year’s resolution was to dump my bad habits and get back into shape. That course looks really scary.”
She stops walking to catch her breath; I wonder how well she’s going to do, given she can’t even keep up a brisk walk without huffing and puffing.
“Did Don come out to watch you?”
“Oh, God, I hope not,” Ali replies, then puts her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. That was an overshare.”
“Not at all. Do you not like when he watches you do things?”
She shakes her head. “It’s hard to explain.”
I frown to show her I have no idea what she’s talking about, but just as she’s about to continue I see Kim and Jean-Luc coming toward us, so I touch her arm and ask her to hang on.
“Thanks so much for coming!” I enthuse to them. “Kim and Carol are by the tent, so it looks like room 147 is here to represent!”
“I’ll say,” a voice behind me chimes in.
I turn, and of all people in the world, you’ll never guess who’s there. Well, maybe you will, but it shocks the shit out of me.
Miss Ward is standing there in a pink warm-up jacket and shorts. Her blond hair is done in two braids and she’s wearing a white do-rag.
There are cries of “Miss Ward!” and “Peggy!” as everyone in the group greets her in their own way.
“Here to cheer us on?” I ask.
“I’m here to do more than that. I’m going to do the course.”
“Good for you.” Jean-Luc seems disproportionately happy to hear this news. I, however, have gone into silent panic mode. I flash back to when I told Ron I was going to invite some people to do the course. We were in the kitchen, cleaning up the dinner dishes.
“Uh, I’m not sure.” He seemed less than thrilled.
“Or maybe I won’t.”
“It’s just that we’ve had a huge response this year. I put a poster up in the store two weeks ago, and I already have a hundred and seventy-five people signed up to participate. I’m just wondering how many can do it in three hours.”
“Well, if they’re anything like I was last year, you can bet on thirty seconds before they collapse in defeat.”
Normally that would have made him smile, but because we were still in the ice age, all I got was the back of his head.
“So you’d rather I didn’t ask anyone?”
“No, you can, but just keep it to five max, okay?”
“Okay.”
Not wanting to rock the boat, I took his request very seriously. And now here’s Miss Ward, assuming she can just tag along. I take her arm and lead her away from the other parents.
“Did you sign up through the store?” I ask, as politely as I can.
“No.” She frowns. “I saw it in your email.”
“Well, you didn’t RSVP, and I said we could only have five spots. I don’t know if they can squeeze you in.” How did she see the email?
“But I did RSVP, Jen. In fact, I was probably the first to RSVP.”
I give her a quizzical look. Her gaze is steady.
“I’m always the first one to respond.”
And in that moment, I feel a huge shift in my equilibrium. I’m off balance for a nanosecond but quickly steady myself. Oh. My. God. I take a breath.
“Sasha Lewicki, I presume.”
“In the flesh.”
Pieces of the puzzle start to click into place. Miss Ward is the only one who has ever seen Sasha and her daughter, Nadine; she isn’t on the class email list and yet always knows what the emails say. Oh, my God, Asami was right! She is going to lord this over me for the rest of my life.
I’m about to launch into a hundred questions, the first one being “In God’s name, why?,” but I’m interrupted by the loudspeaker announcement that participants should start making their way to the course.
Suddenly Garth is at my elbow. “I think we should watch a few people before we do it.” I nod and allow him to lead me away. I’m completely floored, but I remember my manners and invite the group from 147 to follow us.
“Are you okay?” Garth asks as we head to the starting line.
“Yes, why?”
“You just have a really strange look on your face.”
“Just nervous, I guess.” I could tell him about the big mystery I just solved, but I don’t think he’d get it.
We all gather in line to do the course. I turn and look at my group. Kim and Carol have joined us and are giving each other a pep talk. Dr. Evil has her game face on and Ali is biting her nails. She is the one I can relate most to. Jean-Luc Baton is doing some last-minute stretches, but is momentarily distracted when Miss Ward takes off her warm-up jacket. I’m with him. Her boobs truly defy gravity. I take a moment to admire them before I turn my attention to the course.
“This is going to be fun,” Garth enthuses as we watch the first people take off. They are letting groups of two go every two minutes. The first up are two middle-aged women who I may or may not recognize from Curves. They can’t get over the wall, so they do something that never would have occurred to me: they walk around it.
The course is pretty basic, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Just like last year, the six-foot wall is the first obstacle. Then you have to carry a tire about fifty yards, then run a hundred yards, and then crawl under a net through a long mud patch. After that comes a set of monkey bars, and a fake hill to climb and then slide down the other side. Then you run through some sprinklers to get wet, and jump over the line of fire and race to the finish line.
Adrenaline is pulsing through my veins as Garth and I get closer to the starting line. I want to scream, “I’m not ready yet!,” but the truth is, I am. At this point I just want to get it over with. Especially that damn wall. I look around for Ron, hoping he realizes that I’m about to go, but I only see Chyna and Max waving at me from the sidelines.
I turn to Team 147. I see Kim Fancy and Miss Ward/Sasha Lewicki have paired up to do the course together. Huh. I thought they were mortal enemies, what with the slap and all. Competition makes for strange bedfellows. I shake my head to clear it. I can’t lose focus.
“Good luck, you guys!” I say to everyone. They all smile and give a thumbs-up. As I’m taking a last look around for Ron, some guy at the starting line tells Garth and me that we’re next. Garth takes my hand.
“You got this, Jen.” He winks at me, and then we’re off.
We run to the six-foot wall. Scenes from last year flash through my mind, and I immediately fall into my old, bad habit of trying to hoist myself over using my arms.
“Use your legs!” Garth yells to me from the top of the wall. Jesus, he’s already up there?
I remember what he’s taught me about saving my arm strength and using my legs. I grab the top of the wall and, keeping my arms straight, I frog-jump up the wall with my legs until I can hook my foot over the top and follow it with my body. I jump down the other side and wince with pain.
Garth jumps down, too.
“All good?” he asks. I nod.
We run toward the tires and each pick one up. It’s heavy but not unmanageable—more awkward than anything. I can’t run with it, but I walk as quickly as I can and am more than happy to see the place where you drop them. Garth, of course, is carrying two.
“Doing great,” he puffs as he throws his tires on the pile and we take off on the hundred-yard run. “How’s your groin?”
It’s actually hurting, but there’s no way I’m telling him that.
“Good. Fine,” I pant.
At the end of our sprint is the mud patch. We get down on our bellies and crawl through what seems like five miles of muck but in reality is only about fifty yards. I’m exhilarated as I come to the end. I jump to my feet and high-five Garth, who naturally is right there waiting for me.
The monkey bars are next. Without thinking, I jump up and grab the first one; immediately, my hands slip off and I land on my butt.
“Wipe your hands on the grass or you’ll never get a grip!” Garth yells while sailing across with ease. I rub my hands on the grass trying to get as much mud off as possible. When I grab the bars again, my hands hold tight and I scramble across.
Garth and I run up the manmade hill and then slide down the other side, which is all mud. As we do, I realize we are coming to the end. We run through the line of sprinklers to wet ourselves down and then hold hands as we jump over the fire line. I don’t even feel the heat.
As we jog to the finish line, I see my whole heart waiting for me. Mom, Dad, Max, the girls, their boyfriends, Nina, and, right in front, Ron holding an ice pack.
I run straight into the group with my arms open wide in the hopes of embracing all of them at once. There is laughter and tears and congratulations and screams of “You’re getting me dirty!” from my mother. I gratefully take the ice pack from Ron and hold it between my legs.
“I love you so much,” I tell him with tears in my eyes.
“I know.” He hugs me.
We have to make room for the other racers, so we herd ourselves over to the side and chat while we cheer on the rest of Team 147 as they cross the finish line.
Kim and Carol are first. They hold hands while they run, smiling the whole way. They seem to have a really nice marriage. As they complete the course, Carol lifts Kim into her arms and swings her around in a big hug. Well, now we know who’s the bitch and who’s the butch. Another mystery solved!
Next I see Jean-Luc running with Ali, both covered in mud but only one of them looking like he just finished a Men’s Health photo shoot. Beside him, Ali is struggling to keep pace and looks happy to see the finish line. As they cross, Jean-Luc picks her up and swings her around. Is this some kind of ritual I wasn’t made aware of?
Last but not least from our little team come Kim Fancy and Miss Ward—covered in mud and running like they are racing each other. I’m not kidding. They are neck and neck and running so close together that one of them could easily take the other out with a good shove. I’m thinking Kim Fancy for the win, but they actually cross the finish line together, clasp hands, and run toward the side of the building where the Porta Potties are located.
“When you gotta go, you gotta go,” my mom says.
“I want to do it again,” I say to Ron. “It went by so fast.” I hug him and reach my arm out for Max. “You guys are the best cheering section in the world.” I turn to my family and friends. “I can’t believe you all came for this.” They are all talking to each other and completely ignore me.
“I’ve got to get back to work.” Ron extracts himself from Max’s and my hug. “Are you going to hang out, or what?”
“The first thing I have to do is pee. I’ll come and find you.” I hand him my ice pack and take off toward the side of the building. I’m so happy, I’m practically flying. But when I turn the corner of the building, I stop short, because I’m treated to the sight of Miss Ward and Kim Fancy over by the side of the Porta Potties, making out! I mean, really going at it. Kim has our kindergarten teacher backed against the toilet, and Miss Ward has one leg wrapped around her like a rope. They don’t see me, so I immediately backtrack around the corner and wonder if I have just imagined the whole thing. A quick second glance confirms that I have not. This is too much to take in. Miss Ward is Sasha Lewicki and she’s Kim Fancy’s secret lover? I feel like I’m in a movie. A really dirty one.
I still have to pee, but I decide to use the bathroom inside the store. I walk back through the parking lot, only semi-aware that people are still doing the obstacle course. My mind is trying to put together all I know about Miss Ward and Kim Fancy. How long has this been going on? Did Miss Ward not have an affair with the dashing David Fancy? I had been so sure about that, especially after the Christmas party–turned–jewelry show. I mean, Miss Ward had obviously taken her dress off at some point and then put it on backward. I always assumed she had hooked up with the dashing David in the bathroom for a quickie and that was why Kim slapped her, back in February. That slap! What was that all about? A lovers’ quarrel? Foreplay?
I walk into the store, grateful for the relative quiet. This is a terrific event, but I’m not sure what it does for Ron’s business. Everyone is outside having fun, not inside buying things.
I wave to Kendra, the salesgirl behind the counter, and head to the bathroom, which is on the left side of the store right near the jockstraps and sports bras. I lock myself in because I need to think, plus it’s nice to sit down for a minute. I feel like I have been at Mach 10 with my hair on fire ever since I woke up for the second time this morning.
Usually, I do some of my best thinking on the toilet, but today all I come up with is more questions. So I flush and wash my hands. A glance in the mirror shows I have the battle scars of a mud warrior all over me and I feel all kinds of cool as I head back to the parking lot. I look at my watch and can’t believe it is only 10:15. All this has happened in an hour? It makes me think of the army slogan, “We do more before nine a.m. than most people do all day.”
I find Max and Chyna at the Gatorade table, passing out cups to people.
“Mommy, Garth is looking for you,” Max informs me, handing me a cup of orange Gatorade.
“Okay, thanks. Are you guys having fun?”
“Dad says I can play in the mud when everyone is done and swing on the monkey bars.”
“He did, huh? You are so lucky.”
“He said I could try to do the course, too,” Chyna tells me. “If it’s okay with you.”
“Of course. But maybe get Garth to help you. Any idea where he and your mom are?”
“I think they went to talk to the guy from the governor’s office.”
“Where is he?”
“Sitting with the guy making all the announcements.” She points to a table set up near the starting line.
“Max, want to come with me or stay with Chyna?”
“Mommy, I’m working.”
“Righty-o! I’ll be back in a little while.”
On my walk over to the table, I am stopped at least a dozen times by friends and customers all congratulating me on the success of the day, as though I had anything to do with it. I promise to pass along their compliments to Ron, if I ever see him again. Finally, I spy the announcer’s table and Garth chatting up some guy in a suit. I wait until he sees me, then I wave him over. I’m not in the mood to press any more flesh.
“There you are! I was looking for you. You must have really had to pee.”
“You have no idea,” I respond. “Where’s Nina?”
“She’s getting something from the car. How are you feeling?” He puts his arm around me.
“I feel great! That was a breeze. I wanted to go right back and do it again. How did I look?”
“Like a girl who’s ready for a bigger challenge, that’s for sure. I’m so proud of you. You must be on such a high.”
Well, I was, I think but do not say. The whole Miss Ward/Kim Fancy drama has really pulled me off track. Garth is right—I should be walking on air. Instead, all I want is to find Nina and tell her everything. But Garth doesn’t need to know any of this.
“I am. It was amazing and I owe it all to you.” I give him a hug.
I can tell Garth is happy. “And we aren’t finished yet. August, baby. That’s when the real deal will happen. We need to keep training all summer.”
“I’m ready,” I tell him. I spot Nina walking toward us. “I’m going to steal your girl for a few minutes.” He smiles and waves me on.
I grab Nina’s arm and redirect her to a bench near the street.
“Looks like you and Ron—”
I cut her off immediately.
“I have to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone else.”
“Okay.” Nina seems more dubious than curious.
“Swear on Chyna’s life that you won’t say anything.”
“Uh, no. But I’ll swear on our friendship, if that makes you feel any better.”
I regard her for a moment, then nod.
“Good enough.” I take a deep breath. “I just saw Miss Ward and Kim Fancy making out by the Porta Potties.” I wait for a reaction, and Nina doesn’t disappoint. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head.
“Are you shitting me?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t you tell me one of them slapped the other?”
“Yup.”
“Are you sure they were making out? Maybe they were just hugging.”
“With their tongues?”
“Oh, my God, seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Was it hot?”
“No!” I laugh. Only Nina.
“I’m just sayin’—they’re both good-looking women. Would a guy think it was hot?”
“Probably. Not really the point I was getting at, though.”
“This is seriously good gossip.”
“You promised you wouldn’t say anything,” I remind her.
“I won’t. Wait, can I tell Garth?”
“Of course.” I know I’ll be giving Ron a play-by-play later.
Nina looks past me toward the parking lot.
“We should get back. Garth is giving me the ‘Mayday’ sign.”
While Nina goes to rescue Garth, I check in with Max, who is still manning the Gatorade table with Chyna.
“Hey, guys. Having fun?”
“Mom, I’m hungry. Can Chyna and I go to McDonald’s?” I can see Max is losing interest in his job, and the golden arches next door are acting like a bat signal on him. Let’s see, Pop Tarts for breakfast and now McDonald’s for lunch. I hope Child Protective Services isn’t watching.
“I guess so,” I say. “But I don’t have my purse with me.”
“I have money from my mom,” Chyna assures me.
“Okay. Well, don’t eat too much if you’re going to do the course later.”
“We won’t,” they say together, and head off.
The event is going strong. People are still lined up to do the course, and the announcer has started to play great motivational tunes like “We Will Rock You” by Queen. I smile to myself, because I’m happy for Ron. This is a real win for him.
I pass Ali Gordon limping to her car and realize we’d never finished our conversation.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just my calves are starting to seize up. I think I should have trained a bit for this.”
“As someone who did nothing but train, I’m going to agree with you. Need some help?” I lean toward her.
She gives a resigned laugh and puts her arm over my shoulder. “I guess I do, thanks.”
I support her around the waist and we start walking. I’m generally a nice and helpful person, but I’m not going to pretend I don’t have an ulterior motive. I want to see if I can get Ali to spill the beans about her and Don. I’m in no shape to be clever or crafty, so I just come straight out with it.
“So, what’s your deal with Don?”
She sags a bit more into me.
“I’m sorry I said that earlier. I just get frustrated sometimes.”
“Why?”
She sighs. “Look, he’s a good guy. He’s just really…” She’s searching for a word, but I don’t have any suggestions.
“He’s Peter Pan,” she finishes.
“He dresses in green and flies around the city?” It’s a joke, but apparently not to Ali.
“I mean, he has Peter Pan syndrome. He doesn’t want to grow up.”
“Really? I don’t get that from him at all.”
“Why would you? You haven’t had to raise a kid with him.”
I think about that for a second.
“Is he not involved with Lulu’s life? I mean, he shows up for all the school stuff.”
“Yeah, that’s a recent development. Now that she walks and talks and communicates, all of a sudden he wants to be Dad. When she was a baby, forget it.”
“That’s rough. Why did you guys have a kid to begin with?”
She gives a bitter guffaw.
“The condom broke.”
“No!” I gasp. “Oh, my God, that actually happens? I always think of it as an urban myth like the alligators that live in the New York sewers.”
This she does laugh at. “Nope. Not a myth. We had only been dating a few months when it happened. That’s my car.” She points to a beige Hyundai parked on the corner. She takes her arm from around my neck and fishes her key fob out of her fanny pack. But I’m not letting her leave just yet.
“And you wanted to keep the baby, of course.”
“We both did. I mean, Don was forty-two at the time and I was in my late thirties, so we thought why not, you know? He wanted to get married, but I held off on that, thank God. I was like, ‘What’s the rush?’ Don was really into it until Lulu was born, and then reality set in.”
“Oh, God,” is all I can think of to say.
“He freaked out.” She sighs and leans against her car. “He was actually jealous of all the attention Lulu got. He really didn’t get it. We started fighting all the time, so I told him if he couldn’t accept that he wasn’t the child anymore then he should just stay away.”
“And did he?”
“Yes!” she yells. “Can you believe it? I didn’t see him for, like, three years.”
“What an asshat.” I can’t help but think how lucky I am to have Ron “I’ll change the diaper” Dixon.
“My parents live in Des Moines, so they weren’t much help. I was on welfare for a while. I mean, it really sucked.”
“When did he come back?” This conversation is making me remember how tough it was carting Vivs around Europe while I was pregnant with Laura. Now there’s a book I should write.
“You won’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
“We met speed dating.”
“What?”
She nods her head with wide eyes.
“Of all the gin joints, right? When he sat down in front of me I nearly spat my drink out.”
“What did you say to him?” I’m completely spellbound.
“I actually said, ‘Of all the gin joints.’” She shrugs. “We agreed to meet afterward, and he claimed he wanted back in Lulu’s life.”
“So you let him?”
“Not right away. I mean, the guy was AWOL for three years. If he’d wanted back in so badly, he could have called or emailed anytime. I always wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gone to that stupid dating thing.”
I give her another way to look at it.
“But it’s kind of romantic. Like it was meant to be.”
“I guess. He’s been around a lot. It’s been great having help with Lulu, especially money help. And, I don’t know if you know this, but he’s really good with kids.”
“I actually witnessed that firsthand on a field trip.”
“He’s a natural. It makes me sad for him that he missed all those years with Lulu.”
“Do you guys date other people?”
“I’m not sure what he does, but I haven’t had a date in two years. That’s why I want to get in shape, you know? Stop looking like something the cat dragged in.”
I definitely knew where she was coming from. After I had Max, “dumpy” was the only real way to describe me. That’s why I joined Curves. I consider suggesting it to Ali.
“You’re hardly something the cat dragged in,” I assure her. “Have you guys ever considered getting back together?”
Ali opens her car door and groans loudly as she eases herself into the driver’s seat. “Don talks about it, but I don’t know. I’m still getting over being mad at him.”
I nod.
She starts her car. “Thanks for the help.”
“Epsom salt bath and Advil,” I advise. “For the pain.”