Pretty Woman

by Fern Michaels

  “Both,” Luna Mae said cheerfully. “I turned the heat up.” Her voice turned anxious when she said, “Will the rain and the cool weather affect you, baby?”

  Rosie was wondering the same thing. She’d trained in the rain but not the cold. She forced a light tone to her voice. “I don’t think so. A while back, we had two solid weeks of rain. I ruined nine pairs of running shoes. We’ll all be running, biking, and canoeing under the same conditions. None of us will have an edge. Don’t worry about me. My leg is as good as new and feels fine. I can’t thank you enough, Curly.”

  The rotund little man smiled. “I heard you on the treadmill at around eleven last night. Did you experience any stiffening or cramping?”

  “Nope, and I ran at 5.0. I wish you two would stop looking so worried. I’m going out there, and I’m going to do my best. That’s it. I’ll live with whatever happens.”

  “Good girl! Where is Jack? I thought he’d be over last night.”

  “He had to go to Baltimore yesterday morning on business. He got in late last night. He’ll be here around eight to pick me up. I told him not to bother because he has so many details to tend to, but he insisted. The Rotarians are all acting as volunteers, and he has to get that organized plus a hundred other details. This race has really turned out to be a huge event for Savannah. I never really paid attention in years past, did you, Luna Mae?”

  “I’m sorry to say, I never paid attention either,” Luna Mae said.

  Rosie guzzled her orange juice and went back to her coffee. Buddy barked at the door to be let in. Rosie blinked at how wet he was. She stepped outside to see how hard it was raining. Hard. Really hard. And, it was damn cold. She shivered inside her warm robe.

  In the laundry room, Rosie plucked two thick, thirsty towels from the laundry basket and proceeded to dry the big black dog. When she was finished, she reached for a third towel and laid it down by the vent in the kitchen. Buddy literally purred his pleasure.

  “I think I’ll take a shower now. By the way, I’m going to turn the Wonderball ticket in on Monday. Start making a list of what we can do with the money.”

  “What about…?”

  “Don’t go there right now, Luna Mae. Monday will be time enough.”

  In the bathroom with the door closed and locked, heat spewing from the heating vents, Rosie clutched at her stomach. Nerves. Don’t give in to it, Jack would say. Mind over matter.This isn’t the Olympics, Rosie. It’s a damn race. Chill out. Easier said than done. She stripped off her robe and sleep shirt and stepped into the steaming water. It felt so good. A balm to her weary body. The cramps were easing up, too.Jack is right, it’s just a damn race. Why am I making this a life-and-death event? It’s me. Some flaw in me. I worked so hard. I didn’t weaken. I stayed the course, and on those rare occasions when I cheated, I made up for it. I did the best I could. I gave a hundred percent. I don’t have any more in me to give.

  Why can’t I accept what everyone is saying? Is it because I’m stupid like Kent said I was? Once words are spoken aloud, they can’t be taken back. I bought into all that stuff he said, and I came to believe it. It’s ingrained in me now, and I can’t let it go. It doesn’t matter if I get down to skin and bones, it doesn’t matter if I have an earthy smell or not. What mattered then, and even now, is that someone thinks of me in those terms. Why haven’t I been able to rise above all that? Why?

  Rosie felt tears rush from her eyes as her slumped shoulders squared imperceptibly. “I don’t want to fail,” she blubbered.

  A niggling voice in her head attacked her.C’mon, c’mon, what happens if you fail? What’s the worst possible scenario? Spit it out. Say the words out loud. No one can hear them in the shower. Let’s hear it!

  “All right, damn you. If I fail, I’ll be all those things Kent said I was. I won’t get a second chance. This is it for me. I get one shot at proving him wrong.”

  You don’t have to prove anything to anyone but yourself. You’re smart enough to know that. Why are you even thinking like this? Kent Bliss is not some god you have to appease or prove anything to. He’s just a sorry excuse for a man. A man you had the misfortune to marry.

  “I bought and paid for him. I didn’t get my money’s worth,” Rosie gasped.

  Aha! So that’s what this is all about. You feel cheated, and now you want to win so you can rub it in his face. Will that give you your money’s worth?

  “Damn straight it will.”

  I hate to be the one to rain on your parade, but no, it won’t. What happens if you don’t win? Does that mean you didn’t get your money’s worth? Are you then going to arrange another race, another something, to get your money’s worth if you don’t win?

  “Yes! I mean no, of course not.”

  You realize, don’t you, that if you fail to win, as long as you have these feelings and thoughts in your head, it will affect your future relationship with Jack?

  “No, it won’t. I won’t let that happen.”

  Then why didn’t you tell him about the deal you made with Kent?

  “Because that’s my baggage, and Jack doesn’t need to be burdened with my past. Now shut up and leave me alone.”

  Oh, no. No, no, no. You’re afraid. Admit it. You thought because, as you put it, you bought and paid for Kent, that it was all right. You didn’t buy Jack. Jack can walk away anytime, and you have no hold on him. C’mon, Rosie, back in the beginning, you thought Kent would come crawling back because of your comforting lifestyle and your money. And, of course, that fancy sports car. There was a very small window of time where you actually got up on your hind legs and said enough is enough. You took charge. You really did. You made him pay the only way you knew how. You chopped him off at the knees. In the end, you got your pound of flesh. Now, you’re looking for another pound. It doesn’t work that way.

  “Well, if I’m as bad as you say I am, maybe I need a shrink to set me straight,” Rosie snapped to the foggy mirror as she belted the robe she had slipped into.

  Let the past go. It’s gone. All you have is today because yesterday is gone and tomorrow isn’t here yet. Let it go. You allowed it all to happen. Now you have to move on, and winning a race isn’t going to make it one bit better. Ask yourself who you are, Rosie Gardener. You see yourself as a victim. A victim is someone who is helpless against a situation. You are not helpless.

  Rosie picked up the wet towel she’d dried herself with and threw it at the foggy mirror before she marched out to her bedroom.

  Soul-searching was not for the faint of heart.

  Ten minutes later as Rosie finished tying her sneakers the phone rang, the ring exceptionally loud in the early morning. Who would be calling her at four o’clock in the morning? Kent? Vickie? Well, there was only one way to find out.

  “Jack! What’s wrong? Why are you calling me so early?” She listened, her brow furrowing. “Okay, I got it. I don’t have a problem with the switch up, and, yes, I understand that you’re under the gun. I can make my way out to River Road with Luna Mae and Vickie. I understand glitches happen, and there’s no controlling the weather.”

  Rosie continued to listen to the man she loved. He sounded harried and stressed. “I have a couple of watermelons in the kitchen you can have,” she quipped.

  “It’s going to take more than a couple of watermelons to calm me down. I was so sure everyone would want to postpone the race, but there wasn’t one dissenter in the bunch, so we’re on. The weatherman is predicting heavy rain for early in the afternoon, so we all agreed to get the canoe race out of the way first while the river is still calm. Less chance of the canoes filling with rainwater. You didn’t sleep, did you?” Jack asked, changing the subject.

  “I tried, but, no, I didn’t sleep. How is everyone getting to the river?”

  “Joe Mallory brought six school buses over to the gym. We’ve been working on this all night long. At this point, everything is ready to go, and of course there are some of the contestants who will make it to the river on their own. You�
�re sure you’re okay, Rosie?”

  “Never better,” Rosie lied.

  “Then I guess I’ll see you out at the river. Good luck, Rosie.”

  “Thanks, Jack. I love you.”

  Rosie smiled when she heard Jack groan. “I love you, too. More than you can ever know. Remember now, pace yourself. Don’t worry about what anyone else is doing. Concentrate, focus, and do your best.”

  “I will, Jack. See ya at the finish line. I’m not saying what number I’ll be crossing it, but Iwill cross it.”

  “I know you will. Good luck, Rosie.”

  Rosie replaced the phone. A glitch. A glitch was a glitch was a glitch. So what if the canoe race came first. So what? All things considered, that might be best in the long run. She would be fresh, her torso strong. The five-mile bike ride, then the ten-mile run would take a toll on her.Better this way, she told herself. She hoped she was right.

  Back in the kitchen she said, “Change of plans. That was Jack on the phone. We’re doing the canoe race first, then the bike race, and the run last. Most of the contestants are going in the school buses out to the river. I told Jack we could get there on our own.”

  “Why the change, baby?” Luna Mae queried.

  “Jack said hard rain is predicted for early afternoon. The river will be rough, and the canoes might fill with rainwater. Jack thought everyone would want to cancel, but that didn’t happen.”

  Curly stroked his snow-white hair. “You look worried, Rosie.”

  “It’s out of sequence. I know how my body responds to the training. I trained by running, then biking, then canoeing. This is backwards for me so, yes, I’m a little concerned. I hate being thrown a curve.”

  “Won’t everyone else be in the same boat? No pun intended,” Luna Mae said.

  Rosie poured a second cup of coffee and knew she shouldn’t drink it, but she did anyway. “Jack told me only a few other contestants trained on the river. The others used the rowing machines at the gym, assuming that they’d be able to make the transition from rowing a boat to paddling a canoe. The UPS guy did the river on weekends. He’s like a Goliath. Jack said he was really good. Then there’s Kent. Jack said he was just as good as the UPS guy. It’s only a mile up and a mile back. It was supposed to be three miles, but that changed this morning, too. I can do it.”

  Curly was still stroking his white hair, twirling it between his fingers just the way Luna Mae did. “Luna Mae told me it doesn’t matter if you win the canoe race or the bike race. The winner is the first person to cross the finish line after the run. Is that correct?”

  “Yep. You would think that three races would mean three winners, but that is not the case. Whoever crosses the finish line is first. It’s all about stamina.”

  Buddy suddenly reared up and barked, then he stretched out again when the door opened and Vickie blew into the kitchen, her umbrella sailing out of her hands.

  “I knew you guys wouldn’t be sleeping, and I couldn’t sleep either, so here I am.” She headed straight for the coffeepot. “I’m starved,” she said. Her words had the desired effect. Curly got up and headed for the stove.

  “It’s cold out there. And it’s raining like hell. They might cancel.”

  “No. Jack just called.” Rosie repeated for Vickie’s benefit what the trainer had told her.

  “That changes things. I have to call Mitzi and tell her about the switch. I’m picking the seniors up at eight. Guess I better leave at seven-thirty if I have to drive out to the river.”

  “Be sure to tell them to dress warmly. They’re all staying for the dinner, aren’t they?”

  Vickie laughed. “The whole town will be there for that dinner. Last night’s paper carried the menu. It said the elder Mr. Silver has been cooking for two days. I guess it’s going to be quite a spread. Our local television station will be on hand, and of course the newspapers. This is big stuff.” She grinned, then winked at Rosie. “I hope someone has the good sense to make a video so I can send it to Calvin. He had to cancel being here for Thanksgiving at the last minute.”

  Vickie sidled closer to Rosie. “You have to shift into neutral, Rosie. You’re way too tense. C’mon, relax.” Her voice dropped even lower as she whispered in her friend’s ear. “Today is no different than yesterday or the day before yesterday. You were ready and confident then. Today is no different, so don’t go blowing it now.”

  Rosie grinned. “Okay, coach, I hear you.”

  “Good.”

  The foursome watched the hands on the kitchen clock as they chatted. At seven o’clock, Vickie stood up and carried her plate to the sink. “I gotta run. I’ll see you down by the river. We’ll be cheering you on, Rosie.” She hugged her friend and whispered in her ear, “I want you to go out there and kick some ass. You can do it. Just stay focused. I have ten bucks riding on you.”

  Rosie waved as the kitchen door opened, a cold blast of air whirling into the room. She heaved a mighty sigh.

  “We should probably leave around seven-thirty ourselves. There might be a lot of traffic. Is that okay with you?”

  “Of course. Curly and I are going to get dressed now. Since you don’t have anything to do, why don’t you take care of the dishes?”

  “Okay,” Rosie said agreeably. Her mind raced, her thoughts full of the three phases of the race as she filled the sink with soapy water. It wasn’t until she’d finished washing the dishes that she realized she could have loaded everything into the dishwater.I must be nervous.

  Rosie waved to what she called her fan club as she made her way down to the dock, where all the canoes were waiting. Rain fell in a slow, cold drizzle. Overhead, thick gray clouds scudded across the sky. She felt chilled to the bone, even though she was wearing lightweight dark blue sweats. But she knew the moment she picked up the paddle she would start to sweat, and her body would heat up.

  She was in awe at what she was seeing, swarms of people, shivering and doing their best to chat with the person standing next to them. Rosie felt her stomach start to knot up as she accepted her sandwich board sign, which she slipped over her neck. She was number nine. She felt self-conscious as she worked her way through the throngs of people. She’d never been this visible; in fact, she couldn’t ever remember being in such a crowd of people. Some smiled, some waved. The UPS guy was doing windmills with his arms. He looked formidable. Almost as formidable as the choppy river she was eyeing uneasily. The river could be a dangerous place.

  Rosie looked around for Jack but couldn’t see him. Maybe it was just as well.

  “Hi, Rosie.”

  “Kent!”

  “What do you think of the switcheroo?” His voice sounded curious and in no way threatening.

  “Maybe it’s not a bad thing. The river isn’t looking too good. We’re going to be fighting it every inch of the way. What do you think?”

  Kent peered off into the distance. Rosie thought he looked a million miles away. She ran in place to keep warm. Kent did the same thing.

  “I don’t think it’s a bad thing either. If it rains any harder, the canoes will fill. Jack has some speedboats on the side. He put a lot of work into this.”

  “Yes, he did.” Rosie looked around. “Who’s the best of the best?”

  “You. Me. The little guy from Home Depot.”

  Rosie stopped running in place to stare at her soon-to-be-ex-husband. “What about the UPS guy? Jack said he was a real threat.”

  Kent laughed. It was a nice sound, Rosie thought. “He’s going to get motion sickness the minute he starts paddling. I was out here one day when he was canoeing, and he puked over the side. That’s just my opinion for whatever it’s worth. The Home Depot guy is the one to watch. I heard someone say he used to be a Navy SEAL. He has muscles and stamina you and I only dream of. Don’t let that scare you, though. He was treated and operated on for tennis elbow a while back.”

  Rosie digested the information. “Aren’t the women any good?”

  Kent shook his head. “No torso strength. None
of them are a threat. They’re signaling us to line up. Rosie, good luck.” He stretched out his hand. Rosie reached for it and crunched it. She thought she saw approval in Kent’s eyes.

  “Same to you.”

  It looks like a regatta,Rosie thought as she climbed into her canoe. It would have been nice if the sun were out and colored flags whipped in the breeze like at a real regatta, where all the ladies wore straw hats and were dressed in linen. She took a minute to look around. She saw the seniors holding signs that said GO ROSIE and YOU’RE NUMBER ONE! Everyone was dressed in rain and winter gear, with wool hats and gloves. The men and women standing on the riverbank and dock wore high rubber boots, most of them Wellingtons in bright colors. Vickie’s were purple, and Luna Mae’s daffodil yellow. They gave her a thumbs-up. Buddy, on his leash, barked shrilly. She still couldn’t find Jack.

  Rosie looked down the row of canoes. Kent was number fourteen and easy to see. The UPS guy was number four and on her left, the Home Depot guy was somewhere after Kent, number nineteen, she thought. Her gaze swiveled to the mayor, who was getting ready to fire off the starter’s pistol. She gripped the paddle, squirmed on the hard seat until she had a feel for it. She sucked in her breath and was suddenly calm when she exhaled. “Just let me do my best,” she whispered to herself.

  The pistol fired, high in the air. A burst of orange light fizzled in the rain as 257 paddles hit the water simultaneously.

  Concentrate. Focus. Don’t look back or sideways. One, two, in, out. One, two, in, out.Rosie moved the paddle through the water.Yin, yang, frick, frack. One, two, in, out. She was holding her own as she continued to fight the rain and the choppy water. So far no one was pulling ahead of her. Minutes wore into eternity, her shoulders and arms screaming in pain as she dipped the paddle first on one side and then the other.Concentrate, focus. One, two, in, out.

  I can do this. I know I can do this. I spent days, weeks, months doing this. I goddamn will do this. I will.