“What are you talking about?”
“Would anyone be working so hard getting fit and eating right if we hadn’t started this challenge?”
He searched my face as if he wasn’t sure he recognized me. “Sure they would. You had people at the gym before all this started. You are the one who wanted to motivate everyone.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t care, though. You were pushing ice cream and Uncle Pete’s candy to my walkers.”
“I was just trying to market my product.”
I crossed my arms. “No. You wanted to beat me.”
“There was no competition.”
“Wasn’t there?”
He blinked. “I just thought you were going overboard with the fitness talk.”
He didn’t understand. “You aren’t an Olympic racer anymore, Edge. You quit competition a long time ago.”
His gray eyes turned into ice. “Thanks for reminding me.”
I swallowed. “What I mean is, stop treating everything as if it’s a game to win. You don’t have to prove anything to anybody. Even today’s challenge.”
“We’re doing this for you. And you care about winning just as much as I do.” Edge pointed at my T-shirt. “‘Aim high. Work hard. Don’t quit.’ Isn’t that your motto?”
I put my hand on my chest, wishing I had never coined the phrase.
“You better make up your mind what you want, Lily. Because you can’t have it both ways.”
I struggled to make him understand. Things had changed for me. I captured my T-shirt with my fist and held it out. “You were right about my ego and my insecurity. But . . . they feed off each other. Don’t they? You feel it, too?”
“Insecurity? Me? I’m the guy who drives a teddy bear truck, sells frozen treats to little kids, and sings stupid songs to old people.”
I bit my lip. “I liked that Edge.”
“No you didn’t.”
I was so mad I couldn’t stop myself. “I loved that Edge.”
I couldn’t believe I said it out loud.
He stepped back. A dazed look in his eyes. “Lily—”
“I don’t even care if you don’t feel the same way about me. I’ll deal with my own wounded heart.”
He grabbed my arm. “But I—”
“And something else. We might lose. No, let’s not fool ourselves. We will lose. And I am going to be fired for good. So, there goes my insecurity and my ego. In the garbage in a single day! But I don’t care about any of it. I would rather lose this whole battle and my own pride than risk hurting a boy like Rocky.”
The boulder that weighed down my chest had been dropped. I was out of energy. Exhausted from the Warrior Weekend Challenge before it started.
I turned and walked away, sweating in the cold breeze that blew across the county fairgrounds.
* * *
By the time everyone was settled, and the cook-off was set to begin, my head was pounding. I watched as Mac and Gaston took the ingredients given to them and fired up the grills. They had two hours to prepare the meal, and a crowd gathered around to watch them work. A team of amateur sous-chefs gathered to prepare copies of what they made. The food would be sold for lunch, and the money raised was going to be split evenly among both communities.
In the meantime, Marie Joiner announced over the microphone that it was time for the weigh-ins. With a feeling of nausea, which may have been related to my own empty stomach, I handed over my files to Marie and the panel of judges. One by one, participants entered a tent where a doctor and nurse weighed them, marking their BMIs on a chart. I waited outside the tent with Aubrey, and we gave everyone who came out a sticker proclaiming their success.
At one point Aubrey said to me, “Truhart doesn’t stand a chance.”
I ignored her. Many people walked out of the weigh-in happy. They pumped the air with their fists and proclaimed that they met their goals. But not everyone was pleased. Instead of wearing their stickers like badges of honor, a few participants tore them off after they passed us.
Aubrey didn’t seem concerned. She said to one of her disappointed team members, “I told you to watch those carbs, Linda.”
I was dumbfounded by her insensitivity. I followed after the dejected woman and told her she should be proud of herself. “This is just the beginning of your journey. Don’t stop. You’ll reach your goal if you stay motivated.”
She smiled politely and moved away.
I pulled Aubrey and Marie aside. “We need to be mindful of the people who didn’t make their target goal. This is a really difficult and public thing for people to go through. We shouldn’t let them feel humiliated or like they let their teams down.”
Aubrey pretended to agree. “After the competition I’ll send an email.”
“No.” The sound of my strong objection surprised even me. “We need to spend the time now. This is important!”
Marie looked at me sideways and made a mark on her ever-present clipboard. I wanted to rip it out of her hands and stomp on it.
“Dr. Manning will announce the weight-loss-challenge results after lunch. It’s time for the walking teams to submit their results now,” Marie said.
The walkers stood excitedly in the middle of the field, where a long table of judges had been set up. I kept a smile plastered on my face as the leaders of the two groups spoke into a microphone and introduced each member of their team. Marva was the presenter of the Truhart Walkie Talkies and she included a plug for the Family Fare in her speech. The applause was equal if not louder from the Truhart fans, who had cowbells and horns that made my ears ring as they cheered.
When the announcements were finished, the walking teams presented their mileage to the judges.
The crowd waited, talking in hushed whispers as the judges deliberated with calculators. After several minutes the results were announced.
Harrisburg had won by more than three hundred miles.
Aubrey raised the trophy—a golden, spray-painted tennis shoe—above her head.
Edge was huddled by the River Hogs and our eyes met. I gazed past him. After my confession of love, I didn’t want to see his discomfort.
He had predicted the defeat a few days ago. Of course, now I understood how he had known. His late-night spy maneuvers into enemy territory had already told him Truhart was going to lose.
The walkers moved off the field with sagging shoulders and I did my best to console them. “You have nothing to feel bad about. You walked for better health and fitness. The victory is in that accomplishment. Not beating someone else.”
People were already talking conspiracy theories. “They totally inflated their numbers,” and “My cousin says they didn’t walk more than two miles a week,” were just some of the comments from the Truhart sideline.
Addie Adler, wearing bright-colored sweatpants and a headband that made her look like she belonged on the Jane Fonda workout videos, shook her head. “I just hate losing to Harrisburg . . . again.”
The nutrition quiz was next. My team was made up of four of my best, including Nestor Nagel, the older gentleman who had recently returned from the Keys and had helped at the Mother’s Day brunch. He didn’t look like someone who would know his food groups, but he was the shining star of the show. With bright blue eyes that sparkled and a thin, crooked nose that made him look like a funnyman from an old vaudeville show, he answered question after question. The final score was Harrisburg 24 and Truhart 32. The sidelines erupted in bell ringing and cheers as Nestor held the nutrition trophy, a golden apple, over his head.
Everyone broke for lunch, the meals prepared by Mac and Gaston. The judges enjoyed the grilled chicken and salads so much they ended up going back for seconds. Those who were competing in the obstacle race after lunch only nibbled. Twice, Edge headed toward me and I dodged away from his path. I couldn’t eat anything, but I squeezed into the tent with Mom and Chip, doing my best to avoid Edge. Louise joined us with Ivy, and when Chip saw Ivy, he knelt in front of her and took her hand. He ta
lked to her for a good ten minutes, even though she wasn’t able to say much. I reminded myself he had a medical degree, after all. And a soft heart that I forgot about way too often. Maybe I needed to rethink my own warrior challenge.
After we finished, Louise said she was going to take Ivy back to the car to warm up.
I hovered by the edge of the food tent and waited for the results of the cook-off. Mac and Gaston stood beside each other as the judges declared the cook-off a dead heat. They each took a corner of the golden cookbook trophy and held it over their heads for photographs.
The Truhart crowd wasn’t pleased. Corinne Scott waved her granddaughter’s pom-pom. “Come on! You know Mac’s chicken quinoa sliders were far better than that silly chicken kabob ragout thing!”
Someone handed her a bowl of the chicken ragout and she took a bite. She took another bite. Then she sat down to finish the rest. Her speech forgotten.
In the middle of the afternoon, Aubrey and I were called to the center of the field to hear Dr. Manning announce the results of the weigh-in.
Aubrey stood confidently next to me in her T-shirt, looking like she could withstand a blizzard. I unzipped my coat to reveal the yellow T-shirt with my words written across it. The weather hadn’t changed. Goose bumps swept over me and I cursed my thin L.A. blood.
Marie held the microphone and asked, “Would you like to say something before the results, ladies?”
Aubrey took the microphone first. “I just want to say how proud I am of my team. Harrisburg has been incredibly motivated and disciplined and they are all winners in my book!” She held up her finger and pumped the air with a number one sign. What a fraud she was. When I was fired, I was going to write a letter to the grant board with my observations of her lack of professionalism. They probably wouldn’t listen to me, but what did I have to lose?
Marie passed the microphone to me. I hesitated, thinking about the important message I had for everyone.
“We are not always winners, Aubrey.” I took a breath, and my low voice gained strength. “In Truhart we call our weight-loss group the Lollipa-Losers. Sometimes we all feel like losers.”
Aubrey mumbled, “Speak for yourself.”
I caught a glimpse of Edge standing with the River Hogs. He had hardly smiled since I bared my heart.
“We haven’t always done things in the conventional way on our side of town. No excuses. Anyone who has seen our gym knows what I mean.”
Aubrey laughed. “It’s a disaster.”
A chant started across her side of the field. “Harrisburg! Harrisburg!”
I raised my voice to be heard. “But we stuck with it because we were motivated by something other than winning. Remember, everyone, it doesn’t matter if you got on the scale today and were a pound up or a pound down. Whether your team wins or loses. It’s about supporting each other.” Corinne and Marva stood together, arm in arm, at the edge of the field. Mom and Chip were beside them . . . supporting me. It wouldn’t hurt me to remember my own words more often.
The yellow side of the field was kicking up. “Truhart! Truhart is number one!”
I held up my hand. “I know this is a competition, but we should rally round each other. Even those across the field—” The chanting was too loud now. The cowbells and horns had added to the noise, and the clamor was deafening.
“We are all—” I couldn’t even hear my own voice.
I handed the microphone to Marie with a tight smile. Who was I fooling? No one cared what I had to say. Marie held up her hands and tried to quiet the noisemakers.
When that failed, Aubrey grabbed the microphone and put her fingers to her lips and whistled. “Shut up! Let’s hear the results.”
I clenched my fists so hard my fingernails cut into my palms. Sadly, I didn’t feel a thing.
Marie opened the envelope and said, “Harrisburg wins the weight-loss challenge.”
The camouflage sideline went crazy and rushed the field, picking Aubrey up in a victory lap.
I stumbled away from the celebration. It didn’t matter if the River Hogs won the obstacle course after this. I couldn’t face the thought of Rocky standing on the sidelines, knowing he had been passed over. Everything about the challenge had gone wrong. As far as I was concerned, my defeat was complete.
LESSON TWENTY-TWO
Make Sacrifices
I walked down the county road, making my way back to Reply Lake and the Callahans’. I had no idea how far I had gone. Or how much farther I had to go.
After the weight-loss-challenge winner was announced, I left the warrior games. I walked away as the Harrisburg crowd swarmed the field and celebrated.
In all the commotion, no one saw me leave the competition. Now the only thing I heard was the wind rustling through the trees at the side of the road, and the faint hum of cars on the highway several miles away.
I looked down at my shirt.
AIM HIGH,
WORK HARD,
DON’T QUIT!
I erupted into hysterical laughter. How ironic was that?
Lily Shue had just quit.
Thank God I left my phone in my bag on the field. At least that was one blessing. I didn’t have to hear Mom pleading for me to come back home with her to Santa Monica. Or Chip’s teasing. Couldn’t even handle a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere without screwing up?
That wasn’t fair of me. They were being supportive in their own way.
What was I going to do now? I couldn’t even think about going back to fitness training in another gym somewhere. Not because I was too embarrassed to show my face after my multiple failures. But because I didn’t want to leave Truhart.
I don’t know why I wanted to stay in a town that didn’t even have the decency to listen to my pep talk. Or to face Edge, who had acted like a Boy Scout on a mission to sabotage the neighboring camp last night.
Maybe I was taking it all too seriously. Maybe I had lost all perspective.
I pictured Edge and Elizabeth with their other team members, dressed in black, holding flashlights in their mouths and breaking into the gym in Harrisburg. It was pretty funny to think of the two of them tiptoeing around in the middle of the night and spying on their neighbors. Like a scene out of Animal House. I almost wished I had been there to see their silly antics.
* * *
A truck came up behind me. A dingy purplish stuffed animal with yellow beady eyes laughed at me from the front bumper.
“Hey there, little lady. Can I offer you a ride?”
Déjà vu was so strong I wondered if I was experiencing some weird form of PTSD. But instead of a hunky bearded man behind the wheel, a square-jawed man with white hair and a blue baseball hat with a navy veterans’ seal on it leaned out the window. He was surprisingly handsome. Like his nephew.
“Uncle Pete?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Now I know my brothers and sisters aren’t the purest of kin, but I don’t think there are any illegitimate nieces or nephews wandering around the county that I’ve never met.”
I held out my hand. “I’m the fitness nut. Lily Shue.”
“Holy cow! I’ve heard all about you from Edge. He wasn’t lying. You’re a fine-looking lady.”
I smoothed my hair back. He probably wouldn’t be talking about me anymore after today. “Can I take you up on the offer for a ride?”
“Of course.” He started out of the cab to help me.
I held up my hand. “You know what? I’m pretty sure I can get in myself now.”
“That’s a good thing. My back is going out even as we speak.”
It was a personal victory to be able to climb in on my own. At least it was one thing I had been able to accomplish lately.
When I was settled in the seat, Uncle Pete asked me, “Where to?”
“Home.” Before he could ask, I added, “The Callahans’.”
It seemed like the logical place to start. Later, I could go to the apartment I was originally supposed to stay in, something I had put off think
ing about for weeks. Even if I wasn’t the fitness instructor in town, the Triple C’s might let me stay there anyway.
“So isn’t today that big challenge? How did it all go?”
I opened my mouth to tell him, and was shocked when I broke down. The wall of tears I had been holding back all day collapsed.
Uncle Pete must have wished he had never stopped the truck to talk to me. In between gulps and broken explanations that probably made no sense, he handed me tissues and patted my back.
“Now, now . . . This will all seem better in a day. You can’t blame yourself for anything.” He consoled me as if he was used to women sobbing in his truck.
“But it’s all wrong. Rocky is going to feel like a loser again. The losers are going to gain weight . . .” I sniffled and blew my nose. “And Edge is never going to be ticklish again.”
He raised his eyebrow at that comment. “Uh, I don’t know nothing about Edge being ticklish. But I do know about Truhart. It’s a funny little town. Everyone thinks they know better than everybody else and nobody stops to listen to a soul. Winning isn’t everything. and eventually they’ll figure it out.”
He handed me another tissue. I blew my nose and took a deep breath.
Desperate to change the subject from my embarrassing day, I took a deep breath and asked Uncle Pete the one question I had been dying to ask since the day I arrived in Truhart. “Uncle Pete, why do you decorate your truck with stuffed animals?”
“Ha. You should hear the mayor go on about it. For years he threatened to fire me if I didn’t remove every last little bear. At first I took them off to please him, but eventually they found their way back.” He chuckled. “Edge told me you thought he was some kind of serial killer when he picked you up.”
“Well . . .” What could I say?
“You know, Lily, I used to hate my job. Every day I hauled smelly trash and wanted something else for my life. Then one day I found the cutest white teddy bear in a trash can. I thought to myself, Who could throw out such an adorable little guy? I put the bear on the truck and it made me happier. Then the next little stuffed animal came along. I did the same thing again.”
Fit for You Page 25
