These Boots Weren't Made for Walking (12 page)

“A fan?” She looks confused.

“Emma Carpenter. She said she met you last year when you were, well, you know, out of shape. Then she met you recently and—”

“Oh yes, Emma. She wanted to buy a house, but her offer was rejected.”

“Anyway, because of you, Emma has joined the fitness club.”

“Really?” Mom smiles and sits straighten “Well, good for Emma.” Then she turns her attention back to me. “And if Emma can do it, so can you, Cassie.”

I let out a long sigh, then take a sip of my Fat Burner.

“Well, I need to get back to work,” says Penny, “but it's great seeing you again, Cassie. Lets get together and catch up, okay? Some of our old friends like to meet on Fridays for happy hour at Black Bear Brewery. You should join us.”

“Black Bear has a brewery?” I look at Mom. “This town has been really growing recendy.”

“Yes, and the forecast is for even more growth.”

Penny nods. “A lot of the kids who grew up here are starting to come back. Its been fun meeting up with old friends again. I can't wait for you to see Gary Frye.”

“You mean the jock who thought he was God's gift to women?”

She nods and chuckles. “He's bald and fat and trying to get me to go out with him.”

“No way!”

“Exacdy!” She stands and slings her pink Nike gym-bag strap over one shoulder. “No way.” Then she waves. “See you around.”

“I can't believe how much Penny's changed,” I say as I watch her walking away. “She's like a different person.”

“I didn't realize you hadn't seen her,” says Mom.

“Its been a few years.”

Mom smiles, “See? Lots of people change, Cassie. Its not such a big deal.”

I consider this. “Well, you need to respect that you changed when you were ready for it, when you wanted to change. I doubt you let anyone push you into it.”

“I dorft mean to push.”

“I know. You're a mom; you can't help yourself.”

“But you should consider your health, Cass.”

“I'm perfectly healthy,” I say. “At least I thought I was until you guys tried to kill me in that stupid spinning class.”

She nods. “I am really sorry, sweetie. I just didn't think it was that hard. I didn't start spinning until I'd lost most of my weight. I guess I was in pretty good shape by then.”

I finish my drink, then look at Mom. “You mentioned lunch.”

She nods and points to our drinks. “That was it.”

I frown. “That?”

“It's a complete meal in a drink, honey. It has protein and antioxidants and fiber and three servings of fruits and vegetables.”

“Oh.” I nod, still frowning.

“And it was 475 calories,” she points out. Like I care. “And I have to meet a client in a few minutes. Sorry if I wasn't clear.”

“No no,” I say. “That's fine.”

“Do you want me to drop you at home?” She's looking at her watch now, and I suspect she's in a hurry.

“No, that's okay. I think the walk will do me good.”

She smiles. “That's the spirit.”

“By the end of the day, I bet I'll have burned off about a thousand calories.”

“Good girl,” she says, standing. “That might almost undo all that pizza you ate last night.”

I nod, but I'm thinking it probably won't put even a dent in the pizza I plan on eating as soon as I get out of this torture chamber of a fitness club. Or maybe I won't do pizza at all. Maybe I'll head over to Mountain Burger and get a deluxe cheeseburger basket
and
, chocolate shake. But after hearing what Penny said about a lot of classmates moving back to town, I'm not so sure I want to be spotted at Mountain Burger scarfing down several thousand calories while looking all red faced and puffy, as I know I must. I can still feel the heat throbbing out of my face and the top of my head. So as I slowly walk toward the cafe, I call on my cell phone, place a to-go order, and then slip in, wearing my sunglasses, and discreedy pick it up.

Worried that it might get cold, I stop in the park on my way home and quickly eat it. Okay, I feel just a little bit bad as I realize that I'm undoing all my hard work and exercise today. But a bigger part of me simply doesn't care. I don't think I'll ever care.

It's about two o'clock when I get home, and all I can think of is a nice long nap. It looks like Felix has found the best napping spot. He's contentedly curled up on the old, faded brown corduroy couch in the sunroom. I scoot him over to make room and join him. And that's where Mom finds me when she comes home around four. I
don't admit that I've been here for nearly two hours. But I do tell her that all that fresh air and exercise probably wore me out.

“Then maybe you won't miss me if I go out tonight,” she says.

“Another date with Todd?” I ask in a slightly sour tone.

She laughs. “No, this is a chamber meeting at the Den.”

“You're on the chamber now?”

“Yes, Ross Goldberg talked me into it.”

“Ross Goldberg, as in the Goldbergs who own Black Bear Butte?”

She smiles in a funny way. “Yes, Ross has sort of been flirting with me lately.” She shrugs like she's in middle school and unsure of herself. “I don't know why. But he's nice.”

“And rich.”

“Oh, Cassie, I have no interest in the man for his money.”

“How old is he anyway?”

“Does it matter?”

“I'm just curious. If my mother is becoming known as the town cradle robber, I'd like to have a heads-up.”

“Cassie!” She frowns at me. “That's not very nice.”

“Well, it's kind of shocking to see your mother going out with men you went to school with. So how old is Ross?”

“Older.”

I blink. “Older than you?”

“No, I meant older than Todd. If you must know, Ross is forty-six.”

“Only nine years younger than you.”

“Really, Cassie, you make too much of this age thing. Someday when you get to be my age, you might figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

“Well, for one thing, men age more quickly than women. That makes Ross more like my age. And people have told us that he looks older than me.”

“So you ve been going out with him for a while?”

“Just off and on, nothing serious. At least not on my part. I think I'm just a handy date for Ross. His wife died a few years ago, and his son is off at the Air Force Academy now. Ross has been lonely. And we've always been friendly to each other.”

“So how does poor Todd feel about this?”

She giggles like she's fifteen. “Todd? Well, he knows that I have no intention of getting seriously involved with someone his age. I only went out with him because we had that silly deal. And.

“And?”

“And, well, it sounded like fun.”

“Was it?”

Now I think she's actually blushing. “As a matter of fact, it was.”

I frown. “Why?”

“I don't know, Cass. I guess he made me feel young… and special… and maybe it has something to do with your father.

“Oh.”

“Anyway, it's just silliness. I'm sure Todd won't ask me out again. I made my age perfectly clear to him last night.”

“So you lied to him before?”

“No, of course not. I was just evasive. What woman my age wants everyone to know it?”

“Especially when you can pass for much younger?”

“I'm not trying to
pass
as anything, Cassie. I just want to have a little fun before I retire to my rocking chair, thank you very much.”

“Sorry, Mom.” Now I peel myself off the comfy sofa and give her a hug. “I guess I'm just jealous.”

She laughs hard now. “Oh, darling, that's perfect nonsense.”

“Seriously, Mom. You look great; you have a life. Why wouldn't I be jealous?”

“Well, don't be. I've been through a lot to get to this place. I hope you and your sisters never have to go through what I have.”

“But I thought your life was pretty happy. I mean, until Dad ran off with Michelle.”

“It's a long story, Cass. And I want to change my clothes and put my feet up for a few minutes, if you don't mind.”

“I'll takea rain check on that story,” I call after her as she heads for her room. She has me curious now. It's also curious to imagine my mom with Ross Goldberg, sitting together in the back meeting room at the old Bear's Den restaurant on the south end of town. Life sure takes some funny twists along the way.

Mom's ready to go a little before six. She's wearing a smoky blue pantsuit tonight. It looks expensive and brings out the color
of her
eyes.
I tell her she looks pretty, and she actually seems embarrassed by the attention.

“Have fun,” I call as she goes out the door. I watch as she backs her sporty little car out of the driveway I want her life.

I also want food. But I'm feeling guilty for my indulgence at lunch. I think I should make up for it by eating some of Mom's healthy stuff. But everything I find looks like it's made of cardboard and hay I finally settle on one of the green boxes in the freezer. I've seen their ads, which make it look like the finest cuisine around. So I follow the directions and give it a try. And while I'm waiting, I munch on some crackers, which after a while don't seem to taste so bad.

I'm just sitting down to my boxed meal when the phone rings. I'm tempted to let it go, except that I've been secretly hoping Eric will find out I've left town and get concerned enough to look for me. Maybe he's tired of Jessica and has realized what he lost. I just wish Mom had caller ID.

On the third ring, I pick up.

“Audra?” says a sexy male voice.

“No,” I answer flatly.

“Oh, is this her daughter, uh, Cammie?”

“Cassie,” I snap.

“Oh, it's easy to confuse all those names.”

“Yeah, our parents thought it was cute at the time, but they've been sorry ever since. Who is this?”

“Sorry, this is Todd. Remember? From last night?”

Like I needed a reminder. “Oh yeah, Todd, the guy who went to school with me but doesn't remember—”

“I do remember you now,” he says quickly. “I looked you up in the annual.”

“Oh, wow, I'm impressed.” I'm staring at my dinner, which had looked somewhat tasty but is quickly getting cold.

“Sorry,” he says. “I probably offended you last night.”

“Yeah, whatever. Look, my mom's not here. She's out with Ross Goldberg. Do you know who he is?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, well, did you know they were dating?”

“Sure. Audra told me she's been dating several guys.”

“Several guys?” I drop my fork.

“Yeah. I know she's not serious about me,
Cassie”
He pronounces my name like that's supposed to mean something.

“Yeah, that's what I heard too.”

“She told you that?” Now he sounds slightly hurt, and I feel a tiny bit guilty.

“Sort of. I guess she just thinks you're too young.”

“But that's where people are wrong,” he says. “I mean, it's okay for an old guy, like your dad, to take out a young girl.”

“Okay by whom?”

“You know what! mean.’ Our culture accepts it when old guys and young women hook up. You see it in the movies all the time. But when the roles are reversed, everyone gets all bent out of shape. They start calling the women cougars.”

“Cougars?” I pick up my fork and actually get some food on it. “I've never heard of that. What does it mean?”

“They see older women as predatory, like they're prowling around for young guys. Then they'll devour them and spit out the bones and go hunt for more. Cougars.”

“That's creepy.”

“Not to mention unfair. You don't hear people picking on older men like that.”

“Or younger ones,” I point out. “I mean, they can do the same thing: go out on the hunt, have their fun, dump the girl, and go find someone new.”

“Sounds like you've been hurt, Cassie.”

“Sounds like none of your business,” I shoot back at him, then take another bite. This stuff is really pretty good, at least while it's still warm, which it won't be for long if I don't get off the phone.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry,” I say. “But why are you keeping me on the phone when you obviously called to talk to my mom, the
cougar?”

“Don't call her that, Cassie. Your mom is a sweet woman.”

“And old enough to be your mom.”

“That doesn't make her a cougar. I'm the one who pursued her, remember?”

“Are you still pursuing her?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, like I said, she's not home. She's out with Ross Goldberg.”
Okay, I know I already said this, but I'm trying to make a point. Like get a clue. Give up already.

“At the chamber meeting, right?”

“Yeah.” I take another bite.

“That's not exacdy a date, is it?”

“I don't know. I guess it depends on what they do afterward. She took time to dress nicely.”

“Your mom always looks nice.”

I consider telling him about the days when she wore the same cardigan sweater until it looked like it was falling apart but think better of it. Instead I use this pause to eat a couple more bites.

“You could take a lesson from her, you know.”

I quickly swallow a lump of chicken. “Thanks a lot.”

“Sorry. But I was looking at your pictures in the annual, and you were a cute girl. I actually remember you from a creative-writing class. I had one last English requirement to take, and you were in the class that Mrs. Hornby taught. Do you remember?”

I feel my cheeks flushing slightly as I swallow the rest of that bite. “Yeah, I sort of remember.” The truth is, I totally remember. Todd sat right in front of me, and I would sit there and daydream about him.

“Mrs. Hornby was always saying you were such a good writer, and one day she read one of your stories, and I was pretty stunned that a junior girl wrote it. I remember turning around to look at you and kind of scratching my head.”

“That's probably the
only
time you looked at me,” I say and suddenly wish I hadn't.

“Well, the school year was almost over, and then I graduated. But I remember thinking that this girl has something going on, and if I had been around another year, who knows? I might've asked you out.”

“Well, isn't that nice.” Even so I'm sitting up straight now, I've pushed the food away, and I'm listening as if my life depended on it.