Carolina Days: Yesterday's Half Truths Part 8

My reaction to his words is tears filling my eyes. I rush over to the screen, turning it off before he can see them.

My phone starts ringing as soon as the connection is lost. It's him. I ignore the call, sending it straight to voicemail. Angrily, I wipe my face. Why is he even acting like he cares? A text comes next.

Are you all right? I'm sorry if I upset you.

Peeling off my clothes, I head for the shower. I let the steaming water wash my tears away. Sinking down to the floor, I allow the water to wash everything away. Only when I'm all cried out, do I stand and turn off the water. From there I retreat to my bedroom, drying off and dragging on my most comfortable pajamas. Coco curls up next to me, softly purring.

I'm done with today. I'll try again tomorrow.

My stomach is what finally wills me out of bed. In a moment like this, I'd like nothing better than to nosedive into a quart of my favorite ice cream. Since there is nothing that appealing in my kitchen, I settle for some cherry tomatoes and a cheese string only because I don't have to make anything to eat them. I also fill up a gla.s.s with cuc.u.mber water, hating Luke for making me like it.

Having avoided my phone long enough, I check it while I eat. There are six more texts. The most recent one saying if he doesn't hear back from me in an hour, he's driving to my house. A noise near my front door makes me jump, knocking over my gla.s.s, shattering it. My heart beats wildly in my chest as I consider the possibility of Luke being outside my door.

It takes a couple of moments for me to check the timestamp of his text and realize a full hour has not pa.s.sed since he sent it. Quickly, I reply.

I'm fine. I wasn't feeling well.

Not even two minutes go by before my phone is ringing. I know who it is and do not want to talk to him; but I also don't want him showing up on my doorstep, so I answer.

"h.e.l.lo."

"I'm sorry if I pushed you."

Somehow hitting me right away with the apology causes my throat to swell. "It's okay," I manage to say.

"I upset you and that's the last thing I wanted to do. I only want to help you."

Now I feel responsible for his guilt. My self-defense impulses are stronger though.

"Maybe we shouldn't train together anymore."

"What?" he snaps.

"I don't know if it's a good idea to keep-"

"You don't truly mean that," he cuts me off. "I'm not giving up on you that easily."

Frustrated, I start pacing. "Why do you even care?"

"I don't know," he snaps again.

Neither of us speaks for a moment, until he asks, "Are you still there?"

I slump down onto my sofa. "I am."

"You may not like it, but I'm going to keep pushing you. It's how I'm wired. I can't ignore this and I want to help you."

How he's wired, for some reason that actually makes me feel better. If this was how he is, then he would do the same thing for anyone. It's the thought of him going out of his way to do something just for me that was freaking me out. If he's this way with everyone, his motivation for wanting to help me is less suspect.

"I take my trash out," I admit quietly.

"You, what? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I take out my trash," I repeat, louder this time.

"And that's cool because you don't see people, right?"

"Yes, and I'm used to it."

"So, you could get used to doing something else outside as well?"

"In theory, maybe."

"Are you willing to try? And just so you know, I'm going to be the biggest pain in your a.s.s until you say yes."

"Good to know." I laugh.

"That wasn't an answer." He points out.

I flop onto my side, pinching my eyes shut. "I don't know if I can."

"I have an idea. What if you kept me on the phone with you while you walked? That way no one will try to talk to you because you're already busy talking to me."

My mouth drops. "You would do that?"

"It was my idea. You did miss half of your training session today. Are you up for taking a walk with me instead?"

"Like right this second?" I gasp.

"No time like the present. I need to take Loki for his walk anyway; you'd be doing me a favor by keeping me company."

"You're crazy."

"I prefer persistent," he replies.

Could I do this? Sitting up, I regard my front door. Would it really be so bad to take a walk outside? Like Luke said, if I was on the phone with him, it would keep other people away from me.

"I'll do it," I say, before I can change my mind.

"I need to put Loki on his leash and pull on a pair of sneakers. It might be chilly out, so why don't you put on a jacket while I do that."

"I'm going to set the phone down. I'll be right back."

I can't go for a walk in my pajamas so I quickly change into some yoga pants and a long fleece sweater. Over that, I slip on a down vest and multicolored scarf before stepping into my sneakers.

"I'm ready," I nervously mumble, my anxiety starting to rise.

"You've said before you take your trash out every week. Where do you take it to?"

"Not far, just to the curb in front of my house."

"Why don't we start with that? You just have to walk out to the curb in front of your house."

"This feels silly," I admit.

I hear a door shutting and what must be Loki's leash jiggling in the background. "Nothing wrong with small steps. Once you get to your curb, if you feel like walking further you can; if you don't, you can just turn around and go right back in to your house."

You've done this before, I try to tell myself, once a week every week. Only, when I take my trash bin out to the curb, it's morning and light outside. Everything is different. There are more cars parked on the street and while there is light from the streetlights, there are still shadows. Who knows what could be hiding in those shadows, people, animals.

It takes all I have not to turn around and flee into the certainty of my home. I want to be brave though. The air tastes different outside, not good or bad. A chill forces me to pull my jacket tighter around me. It's ridiculous how difficult it is to do this now that I'm standing here.

Glancing left then right, I decide to go a bit further. I have the safety net of Luke on the line. We don't speak but I can hear his movements and the subtle sound of traffic on his end. Going to the right, I still when a dog starts barking at the house I pa.s.s. What if someone comes outside to see what caused the dog to bark?

Fear propels me forward, my brain arguing I should have turned back instead. At the end of my street, a path continues off into some trees. I stand, staring into the woods, not brave enough to explore since it's getting darker by the minute. As I turn, ready to go back to my house I look upward and pause.

I don't remember the last time I saw or wished on a star. A smattering of clouds obscures some of them from me but not all. Pinching my eyes shut I wish, with all my might, to be the woman they think I am.

I have no idea how I managed to talk her into going outside, but I did. Loki was grateful for the slow pace as I talked to Lindsay and walked him to the dog park. After she made it to the curb, she decided to walk a bit further.

She was able to find a walking path not far from her house. She said occasionally she had seen people running by as she took out her trash, so she headed in the direction they always did.

Our conversation was slow. I tried my best to keep her focused on talking to me so she wouldn't have the chance to think about what she was doing and freak out. It worked. I was able to keep her on the phone and outside the entire walk to and from the dog park. Altogether we walked and talked for only thirty minutes. It was about the same amount of time she lost in her training session.

There's no way she burned as many calories or worked the muscles I had planned for her, but in the grand scheme of things, knowing she ventured outside because of me is unbelievable. Those steps today could quite possibly be the ones that change her entire existence. That's my hope at least.

She agreed to keep our next training session. I was scared briefly when she said we should stop. I know now it was her fear speaking, not her. I'll do what I can to make the power of her fear less each day.

She doesn't know it yet, but I plan on calling her and talking her into walking with me every night. When she said earlier taking her trash out doesn't bother her because she's used to it, I knew her being outside with me would give her a chance to get used to that too. Once she's comfortable with the walks, then I can try to talk her into doing something else.

It sucks that as good as this accomplishment feels I don't really have anyone I can share it with. I could call Clay, but it's late and he has Courtney and Maggie. I don't want to intrude on their family time. I could also tell Sasha; but since she is friends with Lindsay, it could get back to her. I have to respect this is a big deal for Lindsay; it's her personal accomplishment, not mine.

I open my calendar app and make a note though; so no matter what, I'll always remember.

I have a full schedule at the gym today. By lunch, I'm dragging so I run to the smoothie shop to get their energy boost formula. For me, I see my diet as part fuel for my body and part fuel for my psychological health. By knowing I'm putting good things in my body, I feel an immediate improvement.

"Hey, Luke."

I turn, smoothie in hand and see a regular, Nina, behind me.

"Hi, Nina."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about my workout goals."

She randomly starts stretching in front of me. Clay has made fun of me in the past for missing signals from a woman hitting on me. This feels like a signal.

I sip my drink, watching her bend over in front of me. "What"- I clear my throat-"were you thinking?"

She grabs for my arm to balance herself as she pulls one of her feet back and up to touch her a.s.s. "I think I need someone to"-her grip tightens as she switches feet-"really motivate me, inside and outside the gym."

Outside the gym?

She drops her foot but her hand stays on my arm. "You know what I mean?"

Yep, pretty sure I know exactly what she means. She's hot, smokin' hot, but fake. I don't get the chicks who wear a truckload of makeup to the gym. The whole point of being there is to sweat.

"If you're interested in booking me for some training sessions, I can print you off a calendar, which shows my current availability."

She moves her hand to pick at some nonexistent lint on her b.o.o.b. "What about sessions after hours?"

My first day on the job I probably would have been all over her, but after four years of training clients, the whole gym bunny thing doesn't do it for me anymore.

"All of my available session times will be on the calendar. I can print out for you. Unfortunately, I don't offer any after hours, off site sessions at this time."

Except for Lindsay.

Surprisingly, she waits for me to print off a calendar and, while I finish my smoothie, takes her time looking at it. I'm about to excuse myself to get ready for my next client when she tells me she'd like one of my open Friday slots. I hope I won't regret taking her on; she hasn't convinced me she's serious, but I'd be stupid to turn down a client.

The more clients I book, the less likely I'll ever have to wait tables again. I quit my restaurant job a couple months back. With any luck, I can keep training full time and not have to go back. I was contacted by a reality weight loss TV show a while back potentially to be a guest trainer.

That could open up some big doors for me, career wise. Problem is I haven't heard anything in weeks. At this point, I'm a.s.suming they pa.s.sed which blows, but I can't do much about it. I direct Nina over to the front desk to complete her session sign up. Rick, who's manning the desk, knows if I do this, I want the initial questionnaire sent from the gym email account and not my personal one.

Nina will not be getting my email or phone number. I learned the hard way to be careful about my privacy with gym members. Some have a habit of taking clingy to a whole, new level. I haven't personally had anyone wig out on me, but some of the other guys who work here have. People are crazy.

I have enough time to chuck my empty cup and wash my hands before my next client shows up. His name is Mitch. I was nervous taking him on in the beginning. He's a vet, lost his right leg in Afghanistan. He completed his physical therapy and was fitted with a prosthetic before joining the gym.

He's been through a lot. I can't even imagine the s.h.i.t he saw over there, and I'd never ask him about it either. There are times during a session when I can tell he's not with me. He can be standing in front of me but he is not there. I can only hope he's some place good and not reliving bad stuff. He has a service dog, a German Shepherd named Zeus that comes with him.

Whenever he zones out, Zeus knows and gets up from where he normally sits and comes to nuzzle his head into Mitch's hand. It's something to do with PTSD but seeing the dog recognize when Mitch is gone is one of the most surreal things I've ever seen. Thankfully, that doesn't happen a lot.

Mitch is working to build his strength back up. His focus during our time together is intense; he's a man on a mission. We don't kid around like I do with many of my clients. It'd be nice to know if he had a sense of humor. Makes me wonder if he's always been like this or if he was different before he went to war.

I scratch Zeus under the chin as I greet Mitch. He nods his greeting in response before giving Zeus the command to sit. We get right to work. Mitch stretches prior to his workouts with me. He doesn't want to waste one moment of his time. Conversation outside of the instructions I give him is nonexistent. He isn't here to be my friend and I can tell he's happier if I don't even try.

We're both sweating by the time our session is over. He never showers at the gym, just picks up Zeus' leash and jams. Out of all of my clients, he is the easiest one to train. When I tell him to do something, he goes for it, no hesitation. His military background is probably the reason he's that way.

It doesn't make it any less inspiring to see him throw himself into his workouts. It's a reminder not to a.s.sume people are weak. Even missing his leg, I'm pretty sure he could take me down. My eyes follow him until the door closes behind them. The dude's a mystery but one someone else will have to solve, I decide as I watch my next client sign in.

Once I'm done for the day, I shower at the gym and pop by my place to pick up Loki. I'm having dinner again at my mom's and she asked me to bring her 'granddog'. Loki knows where we're going the second I turn onto her street. His body shakes in his seat as he starts grunting excitedly.

She has won his undying affection by always stocking up on these frou-frou gourmet dog treats they sell at a pet boutique near where she works. There's no way I'm driving out there to pick up unhealthy snacks for Loki, but I do let him indulge when she sees him.

If only he were this excited to go to the dog park, I think to myself once I have Loki out of the car. I don't even have him on the leash; there's no way he'd go anywhere but straight to her door. His mad dash cracks me up, goofy-a.s.s dog.

My mom must have heard us pull up because she's already opened her door and giving Loki a treat by the time I reach them.

"Hey, Ma." I lean over to kiss her cheek.

She pats my cheek with one hand, her other reaching down to receive licks from Loki. "How was your day?"