Pretty Woman

by Fern Michaels

  Rosie repeated her mantra to herself over and over as she moved forward. She was soaking-wet, the paddle slippery in her hands even with the gripper gloves she wore. No pain, no gain. She thought about the first time she’d paddled the river, with Jack showing her no mercy.One, two, in, out, Frick, frack, yin, yang. I can do this. I will do this. I will.

  She saw it then, a canoe edging ahead of the straggly line. In the dismal, gray morning, she couldn’t see the number on the contestant’s back.Kent? The UPS guy? Or the guy from Home Depot? She hunkered down, breathing deeply as she dipped the paddle into the choppy water.Stay focused. Stay focused. And then she was alongside him. The UPS guy. Not Kent. Not the guy from Home Depot. The water was getting more choppy, the canoe bouncing along almost as though it had a will of its own.One, two, in, out. You can do this, Rosie. You know you can. C’mon, c’mon, put some muscle in it. Breathe! Breathe!

  She passed him, and, out of the corner of her eye, she could make out the strain showing on the guy’s face. He was giving it all he had, but still she’d passed him. She’d actually passed him.Focus, concentrate. One, two, in, out. Now breathe!

  Fifteen minutes later she saw the bright yellow buoy bobbing in the water just feet away. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She was going to lose precious seconds when she reached it and had to reverse her seat. Precious seconds could mean losing the race. She could do it. By, God, shewould do it. She’d practiced the move a thousand different times until she could do it blindfolded. All she had to do was pretend this was another training session.

  Just the few seconds it took to change her seat was such a relief to her tortured arms she wanted to cry. Crying was for babies Jack said. That was right up there with the damn watermelon seeds. Crying had always been a release.Focus, concentrate.

  She’d made the transition and was heading back up the river, fighting against the current. Her whole body cried out in pain as she whipped the paddle from side to side.

  There was movement on the side of her.Stay focused. Don’t look. You can do this. No pain, no gain. Breathe! Breathe! Whoever it was wasn’t inching ahead of her, but he was staying with her.

  The rain was coming down harder now, plastering the hair to her face and neck. She was almost blind from the water pouring down her face. No one was in front of her. Not yet. And then she saw the canoe nose ahead of her.Oh, no. No, no, no. She whipped her paddle deep, her arms screaming out a protest that she ignored. They were neck and neck, and she mumbled and muttered, refusing to give even an inch.

  Rosie could feel the rainwater in the bottom of the canoe. It was ice-cold as it splashed around her bare ankles. If she had water in the bottom, so did the person abreast of her. Who was it?

  A voice rang in her ears. Kent!

  “You’re doing good, Rosie!”Oh my God, a kind word from Kent. Will wonders never cease?

  Of course she was “doing good,” she was now ahead of him. The good Lord must be watching out for her. Where were the guy from Home Depot and the UPS guy? Like it really mattered.

  The next fifteen minutes were the longest of Rosie’s life as she pulled farther and farther ahead of Kent. She prayed, then she cursed, then she apologized for cursing. Would she make it? When she heard the seniors shouting her name and saw the mate to the yellow buoy ahead, she wanted to cry all over again.One, two, in, out. Stay focused. You’re almost there. Almost isn’t good enough. Harder, faster! Move, move! You can do this.

  The nose of the canoe moving alongside her was like a dragon breathing down her neck. She reached down to that inner core of strength Jack told her all athletes had and summoned it, demanding it rise to the surface. She crossed the finish line with the opposing canoe a hair behind her. She turned then. The guy from Home Depot. Kent was behind him.

  “I did it! My God! I did it!” Now all she had to do was get out of the canoe and stand up. She didn’t need to worry. There were so many helping hands she was literally carried up to the top of the riverbank, where her bicycle waited for her. As she walked, Curly and Luna Mae massaged her wet arms and neck.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay. I did it, Luna Mae. Me! I really did it! Kent came in third. I gotta go.”

  “Not till you put these dry shoes and socks on. It will just take seconds. Starting out dry will make all the difference,” Curly said. It was Curly’s words of, “Trust me,” that convinced Rosie to take the few seconds needed to put on dry shoes because she knew he was right. She’d catch up to Kent and the Home Depot guy. She still couldn’t see Jack anywhere.

  She was off, her arms and shoulders numb with pain, her friends’ shouts of encouragement ringing in her ears. What she needed now were her legs more than her arms. The best thing she could have done was to put on the dry socks and sneakers. She had to remember to give Curly a big hug.

  Rosie bent low over the handlebars as she sailed down the wet, slick road. She knew there were a gaggle of people behind her, but it was the two in front that held her interest. Men, Jack told her, had powerful, muscled legs, and that gave them the edge. “Well, we’ll just see about that,” Rosie muttered to herself.

  The bike route was one long five-mile run with no hills or inclines of any kind, and that helped her speed.

  The rain sluiced down as she sped along. She could see the oil slicks on the road and knew how dangerous they could be. The bikes could slip and slide and go down, and that would be the end of the race for that contestant. “Pace yourself,” Jack had said. “You know what you’re capable of, you’ve been training longer than anyone else. Just pace yourself and go for it.”

  At the three-mile marker she passed Kent and didn’t look at him. At the four-mile marker, her legs cramping up, she was right on the Home Depot guy’s rear fender. He lost a second when he whirled around to see who was behind him. She ate up his second and cruised ahead of him, her legs moving like pistons.

  Off in the distance she could see a crowd of people at the yellow tape stretched across the finish line. She bent even lower over the handlebars and forced her tired legs to pedal even faster. The rain was falling so hard she could barely see ahead of her, but she sensed when the cyclist from Home Depot was once again abreast of her. Rosie sucked in her breath and forged ahead, her legs moving at the speed of light. She pulled ahead, her body protesting every second. She tossed her head to get the rain out of her face, hoping it would enable her to see better. It didn’t help.

  Behind her she heard Kent shout. “Go, Rosie, go! Don’t let that guy beat you. Go! You can do it!”

  Stunned at what she was hearing, Rosie gave one last violent push and crossed the finish line, the yellow tape catching her in the throat. The Home Depot guy came in second and Kent took third place. She literally fell off the bike into Luna Mae’s arms. All she wanted was to lie down and go to sleep. She said so.

  “Sorry, baby, you have ten more miles to go. Come on now, dry shoes and socks and a dry shirt. I know it’s going to get soaked in a minute but Curly says you have to start off dry. It helped you the last time. There’s no time for modesty. Hold up your arms.” The swell of people around her allowed Rosie to undress and dress within seconds. She felt a little better as she gulped a glass of orange juice.

  “Have you seen Jack?” Rosie managed to gasp.

  “Every now and then. I don’t think he wants to distract you. How bad is it, baby?”

  Rosie looked at Luna Mae. “I want to cry. Don’t worry, I won’t. Kent encouraged me to beat that guy from Home Depot. I wish you could have heard him.”

  “No thanks. They’re starting off. Just so you know, I heard someone say a few minutes ago that the race is now down to twenty-three people. Two-thirds of the contestants wiped out in the canoe race. Guess they couldn’t make the seat change successfully. The UPS guy you were worrying about fell into the river. They’re picking up mangled bikes behind you. Good luck, baby. We’ll see you for dinner when the race is over. I’ve got a bag of clean, dry clothes fo
r you.”

  Vickie appeared out of nowhere to hug Rosie. “You are something else, my friend. I am so proud of you I could just bust!”

  “Vic, I am so tired. I don’t know if I can finish this. I hurt.”

  Vickie’s head bobbed up and down. “I know, Rosie. All you can do is give it your best shot. Go on now. Those guys out there are a bunch of slugs. You’re awoman. You can do it!”

  “I hope you’re right.” Rosie stepped out from under the golf umbrella Vickie was holding and started off.

  Pain was something she couldn’t think about as she ordered her feet and legs to obey her. Up ahead she saw faint splashes of color through the rain. She had no idea how many people were still in the race. Kent and the Home Depot guy for sure. She thought she saw the owner of the bakery pass by while she was changing, but it was just a fleeting glance. Whoever it was didn’t matter anyway. The fact that there were people ahead of her was all that mattered.

  Pace yourself. The first thing Jack had taught her. What he hadn’t taught her was how to survive and win during a rainstorm, and it was now a full-blown rainstorm. The sky was almost black. Even the streetlights had come on. It wasn’t that she’d never run or trained in the rain—she had—but the rain had been nothing more than a light drizzle with wet pavement. The rain on the ground beneath her feet was over the soles of her sneakers. Deep puddles were everywhere. Her sodden clothes plus her soaking-wet sneakers added to the weight she had to carry while she struggled.

  Rosie did her best to pump her arms, but they felt like lead weights. She would have killed for a steaming-hot shower. Head down, she trudged on.

  You call this running! I don’t think so. Jack is going to be so disappointed in you,said a niggling voice inside her head.

  Rosie struggled with the rain slapping at her front and back. “This damn race should have been called off. Do not even presume to tell me what I am or am not doing,” Rosie gasped. Her reward was a mouthful of rain. She spit it out and increased her tempo. “For your information, conscience, I guess that’s who you are, I have blisters on my feet. Bad blisters. I’m probably raw down to the bone.”

  Tsk, tsk. You’re whining. A sorry excuse for a runner. You’re a slug like the rest of the contestants who dropped by the wayside. Slug!

  Rosie picked up her legs and surged forward. Her muscles screamed in protest. She knew the heels of her feet were bleeding. She ignored the pain. This was all about endurance and stamina plus a bunch of other stuff she couldn’t even remember. She wasn’t sure she could remember her own name. What she did know for a fact was that Kent Bliss was ahead of her.

  She couldn’t pace herself for the simple reason there was nothing left to pace. She had to run full tilt or just give up.

  Rosie saw the huddled form on the side of the road just in time to leap over it. She came down hard on her heels, her sneakers grinding against her tortured skin. Her feet felt like they were on fire. In the brief second as she leaped over the form she saw that it was the pharmacist from the drugstore, who signaled that she was all right and waved her on. One down. Who and how many were left? Where were the damn markers? Someone should be on the side of the road shouting encouragement and handing out drinks. She mumbled something that encouraged the niggling voice to vent again.

  Your grandmother could run faster than you! What happened to all that talk about being the best of the best? You said you were going to win. It doesn’t look like you’re winning to me. Loser, loser, your name is Rosie. Rosie the loser!

  “Shut up!”

  You can’t tell me to shut up. I’m you. That’s like telling yourself to shut up. Will you move already. Go! I want to win this race. Don’t you understand English?

  Rosie started to cry. She’d never been in so much pain in her entire life. If she didn’t quit now, she was going to die. Right there in some damn, dirty rain puddle.

  Like hell!

  “I thought I told you to shut up!”

  She felt a body slam against her. She almost went down but managed to swerve just in time. Who? What?

  “Kent!”

  “Sorry, I slipped. I’m running barefoot. My blisters have blisters. How are you doing?” he managed to gasp.

  “Where is everyone? I saw the pharmacist back there?”

  “It’s just you and me, Rosie. Home Depot got some bad cramps and fell. Some guy from the gym, the big redhead, the one with all the freckles, just up and quit. He grabbed his thigh, then sat down. He looked like he was in real pain.”

  “Count me into that category. I can’t do it, Kent. I don’t have one ounce of energy left. Looks like you’re going to be the winner,” Rosie said hoarsely.

  “Oh, no! You’re finishing this race if you have to crawl over that finish line. We shouldn’t be talking, it takes too much energy.”

  “How much farther is it, do you know?”

  “Only God in his infinite wisdom knows. No clue. Kick your shoes off.”

  Without stopping, Rosie kicked off her shoes. The exquisite relief left her giddy. She was going at a snail’s pace, but she didn’t care. At least she was moving, Kent at her side.

  That’s it, now you’re getting it. You’re pulling ahead. Keep it up and you just might beat him. Just so you know, he looks like he doesn’t care, and that, my dear, does not compute.

  “Get out of my head. I don’t care if I beat him or not. I don’t even care if he cares or not. All I want to do is finish or die right here. I can’t do this. I really can’t do this.”

  You WILL do this. See what happens when you slack. He’s ahead of you again. Are you going to let that happen? No, you are not. Move your ass! Go!

  Rosie didn’t look at her husband as she plowed past him.

  “There’s a marker! The red one. Do you see it, Rosie? Three-quarters of a mile to go!” Kent shouted to be heard over the driving rain as he plunged ahead of her.

  How could he possibly expect her to see something on his side of the road with the rain pouring over her in buckets? Three-quarters of a mile was the same thing as saying she had to run all the way to Alaska.

  He was ahead of her again, she could see his bright yellow shirt. Rosie brought her hands up to swipe at the rain whipping against her face. She stumbled and went down hard. But whatever she hit was soft and unmoving. “Kent!”

  “It’s okay. Keep going. My knee went out. Go on, send someone back for me.” His face twisted in pain as he struggled to talk.

  “Are you crazy? I can’t move, much less get up on my feet.”

  “Yes, you can move. You have to move!” Kent pushed her and she rolled over onto her back, the rain beating at her like a drum. “Get up!” he thundered.

  “I can’t.”

  “Then crawl. You are going to cross that finish line if I have to push you. Move, Rosie! If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me.”

  “Kent, my legs won’t move. They won’t move! I can’t feel anything. I’m too numb.”

  “They’ll move if you make them move. I’ll crawl with you. It’s no contest, Rosie. I blew my knee out. The only way I can go on is to inch my way on my side. I’ll skin myself raw if I try to do that. Go on, you deserve to win.”

  “Wait a minute here! Are you saying you want me to win? You must be up to something. I don’t trust you any farther than I can see you. If I win, you don’t get a thing,” Rosie gasped.

  “I don’t want it, Rosie. Look, it’s a long story. We can discuss it some other time. Will you just go on and win this damn race so you can send someone back for me. I’m in a lot of pain here in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Rosie forced herself to sit up. She really did have to continue. Kent needed help fast. “If you cross the line, you win, right? It doesn’t matter about the two other races and no time limit was set on the run, right?”

  “Yeah. Doesn’t matter if you crawl or swim, all you have to do is cross it.”

  “Okay, I’ll crawl, and youroll.” They looked at each other and burst out laughing.


  “Go for it, Rosie!” Kent said, tears of laughter and pain, rolling down his face along with the rain.

  It took her fifteen minutes to reach the finish line. Rosie limped across it and fell to the ground. The roar of the rain-clad crowd sounded like thunder to her ears. Within seconds Luna Mae, Curly, and Jack were pulling her up and hugging her. “Someone has to help Kent. He blew out his knee about three-quarters of a mile back,” Rosie whispered.

  Jack ran to the ambulance that was standing by while Luna Mae and Curly whisked Rosie away from the crowd and into Jack’s house. “Am I going to die, Luna Mae?”

  “Kent’s on his way to the hospital right now, Rosie. No, you are not going to die. I will not allow it!”

  Rosie started to cry as Luna Mae peeled off her clothes and helped her into a steaming shower.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s all over and you won. You won, baby!”

  “I was ready to quit. I wanted to quit. I got to the point where I didn’t care. Kent is the one who made me go on. Kent, of all people. Without his encouragement, I never would have finished. No one got seriously hurt out there, did they?” she blubbered.

  “No. They fished the UPS guy out of the water, and he’s downstairs now with everyone else. You must be starving.”

  “Where’s Jack?”

  “Outside the door waiting to see and talk to you. Rosie, he was behind you every step of the way, you just couldn’t see him. He told us he wanted to stop you a hundred different times. When he saw you kick off your sneakers Curly had to restrain him. That man loves you heart and soul, baby.”

  Rosie smiled through her tears. “I know,” she said softly. “You know how I know, Luna Mae? I know because that’s how much I love him.”

  “Okay, let’s get you outta those clothes so I can rub you down with Curly’s liniment. I brought a nice fleece-lined sweat suit. You’ll look good in it for the pictures. I’ll bandage up your feet, but you’ll have to wear socks, no shoes for you for a while.”

  Luna Mae was taping the bandage on Rosie’s left foot when the door burst open, and Jack shouted, “Ready or not, I’m coming in!”