Carolina Days: Yesterday's Half Truths Part 16

"I'm going to lean this right here and grab the base," Luke says, already halfway out the door.

What the h.e.l.l just happened? I stare dumbly at the tree and the sprinkling of pine needles on the floor by my front door.

Luke is back inside my house within moments and has some cloth in one hand and a plastic tree base in the other.

He looks at me. "Can you fill up a big bottle with some water?"

I turn, my body obeying the instruction my brain has yet to process. Does he need water, or is it for the tree? It strikes me, as I fill a bottle with water from my kitchen sink, that I'm fully dressed for the outdoors and still inside. Leaving the bottle in the sink, I shrug off my winter jacket and hang it on the back of one of my kitchen chairs.

If Luke notices I've taken it off, I hope he doesn't a.s.sume it means anything. I was only looking to avoid melting into a pile of sweaty goo. Luke already has the tree situated in its stand by the time I walk back into my living room. He crouches down in front of it, arranging the cloth he has as a skirt around it.

Luke is in my house and he brought me a tree for Christmas.

Luke is inside my house.

I move near enough so the bottle I carry will be within an arm's length of him before I set it down and back away. My hasty retreat doesn't faze him. He reaches for the bottle and fills the basin of the stand with water before moving out from under the tree.

There's a Christmas tree in my house. Coco comes out to investigate both Luke and the tree. She has depth perception issues with her first sniff of the tree and ends up being poked by its needles. Her back comes up as she hisses at it.

Luke covers his mouth as he laughs, watching her.

My entire life, I've never had a real Christmas tree. My parents had an artificial one when I was growing up and once I moved out on my own I, too, bought a plastic tree. My tree is tiny though, only meant for a tabletop. The tree Luke brought almost reaches my ceiling.

It smells fantastic, too. One year I ordered a pine-scented candle around Christmas time to try to have my house smell like a real tree. It was my pathetic attempt at pretending I wasn't different; that I could have a Christmas like the ones I see on TV. Sadly, the candle did little to make me forget I was still all alone.

"Do you like it?" Luke asks, looking from the tree to me and then back again.

I nod, looking away.

"I have some ornaments for it in my car." He lifts his hand. "I'll be right back."

The pull to follow him to the door and then lock it behind him is basic and I fight it. I haven't moved an inch by the time he is back holding a Target bag.

"I have lights and some ornaments. I didn't get gla.s.s ones. I had a buddy growing up whose cat would knock them off the tree and make a mess."

I find my voice. "You shouldn't have."

He shrugs. "I wanted to."

Having no argument to offer, I gulp instead.

"I'm going to leave these here with you. I expect a pic once the tree is all done since I won't be able to see it from this angle during our web sessions."

I nod.

"Go grab your jacket and we'll go for our walk."

I'm halfway to the kitchen before I turn and look back at him. "Luke?" He lifts his eyes to mine. "Thank you for my tree."

He doesn't say anything, but smiles and my belly flips. I hurry on to the kitchen and pull on my coat. I need to be smart about my feelings toward Luke, logical. He is attractive; therefore, any attraction to him is simply a rational reaction and not anything more.

He, also, in all of our interactions, appears to be a nice person. It is not unreasonable to like a nice person as their very nature makes them likeable.

I'm completely within the bounds of reasonable to be attracted to an attractive person and to like a likeable person, just not in my house. Relief is an immediate sensation when, upon reentering the living room, I see Luke already has the door open to exit.

As I approach him, I slow when I realize he isn't moving. Oh, G.o.d, I think he plans to hold the door open for me. That means I'll have to walk very close to him to pa.s.s him. His nice guy tendencies are making me uncomfortable.

Filling my lungs with air as I pa.s.s, I'm befuddled by his scent and have to remind myself of the concept of one foot in front of the other when it comes to walking. I need to know what he's wearing. I want to bathe in it. Is it cologne, an aftershave, his deodorant, or just the way he smells?

We perform an awkward shuffle on my front step, as I make sure my house is locked. It's strange having someone hold my own door open for me. As if he senses my need for s.p.a.ce, Luke moves to wait for me on the sidewalk. Last time we left my house, he walked ahead of me and I followed, but on our way back, I walked next to him which, given the way he seems to be waiting for me, possibly set a precedent.

My house isn't connected on either side to my neighbors, but the lack of yard s.p.a.ce leaves little room between our houses. Each house also boosts a small strip of gra.s.s between our doorways and the sidewalk. Thankfully, the outdoor s.p.a.ces in our development are maintained as part of our homeowners a.s.sociation fees.

It's on this strip of gra.s.s that I walk to increase the distance between Luke and me. He appears not to have noticed but does seem to be walking smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk. Is he trying to walk closer to me?

Focus, Lindsay.

How are you going to find out nonchalantly what makes him smell the way he does? Could I ask him under the guise of needing recommendations for a post on what to get the man in your life for the holidays? Sasha would be too suspicious so there's no way I can ask her without it being blown out of proportion.

There's a jogger already on the track and I freeze on the path. It's a woman, bundled like us, wires visible from her ears as she listens to something while she jogs. She is a stranger, an unknown, and a person who may try to interact with me.

"You okay?" Luke asks.

Shrugging, I don't reply. I haven't evaluated the situation enough to decide if I'm okay or not. I'm uncomfortable but not distressed, or overly distressed, that is. Because she is a woman and she seems to be listening to something are the only reasons I haven't turned around to retreat. I have less than five months until the reunion.

If I can't walk on the same track as another human being, how will I stand in a ballroom with a hundred? Taking a step forward I focus on Luke's presence next to me. Without drinks in our hands, we start to jog. There's enough distance between the woman jogger and us that she doesn't pa.s.s us for a few laps.

The sound of her feet hitting the dirt path, coming closer and closer behind me is almost nausea inducing. It wasn't until after she pa.s.sed us and I unclenched, that I realized how tense she made me. As we neared the path away from the field and back toward my house, Luke surprised me by moving that way.

Not up to arguing, I'm relieved. He waits on the sidewalk as I move to stand in front of my door.

"Why did we stop early?" My curiosity gets the better of me.

"The true test today was how you reacted to the other jogger. You didn't run away."

"I didn't hold hands with her either," I point out.

One corner of his mouth tilts up. "Did you want to?" He points over his shoulder. "She's probably still there."

I glower at him which, nice guy that he is, he laughs it off.

"See you Tuesday for your next web session."

He starts to walk to his car door but I stop him. "Thank you again for my tree."

"It was my pleasure."

"Wait." I hold up my hand. "I have something for you."

There's no way I can give him the leather jacket I bought for him, but I do have the embroidered leash and collar set I got for Loki. It's in my spare bedroom. I possibly went overboard wrapping it.

It's been so long since I've given someone a gift. The box I used was bigger than necessary but I needed more square footage for the ribbons. It's no equal to the gift he gave me, but at least I'm not empty handed.

"Here." I'm off my front step and thrusting the box into his hands.

"Should I open it?" he asks.

"No, no, no. Just, Merry Christmas."

I'm back through my door, locking it behind me before he has a chance to answer. Through the blinds of my front window, I watch him stand there, his eyes still on my door. His Adam's apple bobs up and down before he turns, and opens his car door. He sets the gift on the pa.s.senger seat.

I watch as he pulls away. If I was normal or brave, maybe I could have asked him to stay. I'm neither, though.

Over the past couple of months, I've made no headway in getting closer to Lindsay. She sent me pics of the tree I got her but that was the closest I've come to being inside her house again. Tomorrow, I leave for California and I don't know if she'll even miss me. She attacks all of her workouts but still keeps me at arm's length.

I thought I was getting somewhere when she got me a Christmas present, but I was wrong. Her gift was great; I walk Loki twice a day and think of Lindsay every time I clip on the leash she bought. It's not as if I needed another reason to think about her. I've got that covered all on my own.

Does she even think of me? Outside of the gift she got, which is technically more for my dog than for me. Other than that one gift, am I on her mind? This trip to California has me obsessing. It's hard for me to ask point blank if she'll leave her house without me while I'm gone. She hasn't reached her goal weight, but with all of the muscle she has been building, she looks amazing.

I'm attracted to everything about her, her cautious smile, her long blonde hair, and ice blue eyes. I want to make her melt. Every Sat.u.r.day, we walk or jog side by side. I ache to touch her; I want to find out if her creamy skin is as soft as it looks. There are times when our arms have almost touched.

Given the weather, even if our arms had brushed it would have been jacket to jacket. Knowing it'll be t-shirt weather when I get back gives me hope. That's the only thing though. Any conversations I've had with the producers about access to the internet while I'm on location have dissolved.

At this point, I won't know for certain until I'm out there. Depending on cell towers, I'll FaceTime from my phone if I have to. The times might be off our regular schedule depending on filming, but I plan to stick to twice a week if I can.

A knock has me turning toward my door, and then a glance at my cable box to confirm the time. Sasha is housesitting for me to take care of Loki while I'm gone. She's here now to take me to the airport.

"You're early."

"Couldn't wait to take over my new digs." She grins, pulling a suitcase behind her.

Loki rolls over onto his back as Sasha approaches him. His tongue falls out of his mouth as she rubs his belly.

"You get him all worked up and we'll need to walk him again before we go."

"You hear that, Loks," she coos, ignoring me. "I'm going to walk you as soon as I get back, so we can play some more."

"His food is in a bin in-"

"The pantry," she finishes for me. "Come on, Luke, I know where you keep everything. Besides, if I have any questions, I can always text you."

Pulling her into a headlock, I give her a quick noogie. "You're lucky I love you even though you're a pain in my a.s.s sometimes."

She pushes away from me, swatting at my chest before she smoothes her hair. "You're welcome."

I grab the strap of my duffle and slip it over my shoulder. "Thank you, Sash."

She tries to pump me for information on Lindsay as she drives me to the airport. I'm not falling for it though. If she wants to gossip she'll need to go right to the source. Lindsay is so private; I'm not making the mistake of talking about her again.

The drive to the airport is reasonably quick. We love each other, but it isn't like I'm going to be gone that long, so after a hug at the curb Sasha takes off. She did make me promise to text her when I landed. I have to stop over in Chicago on my way to Cali.

I'm flying in to LAX. A car is picking me up from there and taking me to the ranch where the show is filmed. The show premiered a month ago. I wrestled with the idea of watching it, to familiarize myself with the contestants, but decided against it. I didn't want any Hollywood editing to skew my opinion on any of them.

I've seen enough of the show to have a basic understanding of how everything works. At this point in the compet.i.tion, the contestants are split into three groups. The show has three full time, celebrity trainers that are there the entire season.

At the halfway point, to mix things up, they invite three guest trainers to a.s.sist. One of the current full time trainers was one of the guest trainers last year. I won't find out whom they were pairing me up with until tomorrow. After a day of airport travel, I'm surprised to see the cameras rolling when I hit baggage claim.

I had thought they wouldn't start filming until tomorrow. I was wrong. Turns out, they want the surprise reaction of the guest trainers meeting each other. I suppose to a certain extent we're in compet.i.tion with each other as well. Or they are, if their end goal is to get on the show full time.

Me, I want to build a name for myself back home and bring new clients to the gym. Gigi, the first trainer I meet, seems only to be worried about getting as much airtime as possible. She lives in LA and exudes celebrity trainer from her pores, if she has pores. Does Botox erase them?

While we wait for the next guest trainer to land, she alternates between hitting on me to trying to prove her b.a.l.l.s are bigger than mine. I didn't have a strategy of how I would be on camera before now. Considering the fact she won't shut up, it's safe to say I'm going for the strong, silent type image.

She flips when we're introduced to the last guest trainer, Hector. He smirks. Turns out, they used to date. This should be awkward. She refuses to sit next to him in the car so a producer ends up giving up her seat so Gigi can sit in the front pa.s.senger seat.

Doesn't stop her from turning around to insult Hector the entire ride to the ranch. When she tries. .h.i.tting on me again, this time in front of him, he ignores it, rolling his eyes, and looks out the window instead.

It's clear why they were cast, drama. That's not my thing. Glancing at my watch, I'm already wishing time away. That impulse is useless, a wasted emotion. Time is fixed; no amount of hope sent in its direction will make it move faster.

The rest of the drive to the ranch is in silence. Both Hector and Gigi busy themselves with their phones; Hector going the extra mile by putting earbuds in as well. Leaning my head back against the door, I doze until the SUV stops.

There are multiple buildings on the ranch, the gym, the residence for the contestants, and a residence for the crew, and one for the trainers. The full time trainers all have places off the ranch as well. This building is only a crash pad for them if shooting runs late. For us guest trainers, for the next month, it's our home.

Sheer luck is on my side when we pick rooms and I manage to get a corner room. Hector snags the one across the hall and Gigi is left with the one next to mine. We're given enough time to drop off our bags before we're needed in the main living area. Here we're told which full time trainer we're going to be partnered up with for the next month.

There are three possible choices. The first is Jarrett, former Navy Seal ironman who moonlights as a Hollywood stunt double. Next is Frankie, the veteran trainer to the stars since season one; one of his first famous clients is now his husband, causing a huge scandal at the time as there weren't that many public same s.e.x relationships ten years ago. Lastly, Vivica is a former wrestling vixen who was the guest trainer last year.

The only trainer I'm leery about being paired up with is Jarrett. Our training styles are as different as night and day. Intimidating my clients isn't how I do things. The cameras are rolling by the time we're back downstairs. Justine Davis, the host, is here to surprise us with what they're calling a random selection.

Hector, Gigi, and I are lined up behind a curtain. We're blindfolded and given noise-canceling headphones. Before we put the headphones on, we're told by a producer that once the camera is on we will find out which trainer we're paired with when they tap on our shoulder. That is when we're supposed to take off the headphones, blindfold, and turnaround.

I'm the first to go. Being in an unfamiliar place, blindfolded and unable to hear anything sucks. I have no indication of how long I will be like this and since cameras are rolling, it isn't as if I can ask. The only thing keeping me from being completely uncomfortable is I don't have to move around.

Standing still without being able to see or hear is disorienting enough. It's strange, not being able to hear. I find myself straining in an attempt to. I was so focused I nearly jumped when I felt a firm tap on my shoulder. Pulling my headphones and blindfold off as I turn, I'm relieved to see Frankie standing behind me.

"Hey, man." I reach out my hand to shake his. "It's nice to meet you."

He pulls me into a hug, thumping me on the back. "Looking forward to working with you."

He hands me a black t-shirt, which I change into, on camera. Then we stand side by side and wave to the camera while the host, Justine, comes over to ask how we each feel about the pairing.

"I've been a fan of Frankie's since season one," I confess. "He's a great trainer and I hope to learn a lot from him."

"Hopefully, you can teach this old dog some new tricks, too," Frankie adds.

After another couple of questions, our part of the filming is done. We have to wait while the director and his a.s.sistant review what was filmed, in case any of it needs to be filmed again because of lighting or to get a different camera angle. After we're told they don't need another take, we are sent to wait on the back deck for the group shot.

Part of me knew this was coming, the cameras, the crew, but nothing prepared me for what it was in real life.