Was it really such a waste for her to have spent her teenage years eating yogurt instead of pizza, spending her time at the gym instead of the movies? Had she thrown away her childhood, so focused on her sport that she’d forgotten to live a normal life?
“None of it even matters now,” she muttered to herself, stepping into a shower stall and sliding the curtain closed. “It’s too late for any of that.”
But could she really find a new dream? Or would she spend the rest of her life in an everyday job that gave her no joy, going through the motions of life without really living? How long would it take to recover from her grief and let go of the past? Sighing, she stepped under the spray, allowing the water to spill down her face, washing the weight of the day from her shoulders.
Harmony knew that she could use her physical skills to find satisfaction in a new career. She had turned down opportunities to train Olympic level competitors because she couldn’t handle it emotionally, but she’d been closing in on the realization of other possibilities. She was a fast runner, small enough to be underestimated, and yet surprisingly strong; her brother Drew thought she’d make a great cop. She was detail oriented, and she tended toward perfectionism; Cameron thought she’d be a great addition to her wedding planning business.
“Wedding planning,” she scoffed. “Like I want to spend every day helping other women plan their fairy tale dreams.” Reaching for her shampoo, she squirted a raspberry-scented dollop into her palm, rubbing her hands together before sliding her fingers through her hair and building a strong lather.
By the time she was out of the shower, she’d somewhat accepted the idea that she had no idea where her life was going. She’d even grown a bit more comfortable with the fact that she had no immediate plans to fall back on. “It’s like Whitney said,” Harmony told her reflection in the mirror. “Just be patient. Something new will come.” Dragging a comb through her hair, she worked the tangles from the wet strands before twisting everything into a loose braid that fell heavily down the back of her neck, leaning close to inspect her face in the mirror. “Well, at least I don’t look old,” she muttered, lowering her eyes sheepishly as an older employee scoffed from behind her.
Turning away from the mirror, Harmony unwrapped the towel from around her body, slipping quickly into her panties and bra. She stepped into soft slacks and pulled a fitted top over her delicate underclothes before slipping her feet into the sandals she’d worn that morning.
The soft chime of bells ringing had Harmony lifting her phone from the bag in the bottom of her locker. She pressed a button that brought the screen to life and swiped her fingertip lightly over the padlock shown on the screen, revealing the main screen and a popup icon that read, I’m almost to the restaurant. Want me to go ahead and get a table? – C.
Smiling slightly to herself, Harmony quickly sent a reply text to her sister. Yep, go ahead. I’m on the way, but gonna be a bit late. Just now leaving the gym. Fondue, right? And you don’t have to sign texts, silly. Caller I.D. – H.
Waiting for the inevitable reply, Harmony packed her gym bag with the clothes she’d worn to work and the still-damp towel she’d brought from home for her shower. Stretching to reach the shelf at the top of her locker, she retrieved the tiny handbag she’d brought along to carry into the restaurant, stuffing her keys and credit card into the little bag before closing the zipper and tucking the bag under her arm.
She had just slung the strap of her gym bag over her shoulder when her phone chimed, indicating a new text: Excuse me for being old-fashioned polite, you little turkey. Our table is on the mezzanine; they know you’re coming. See you soon. – C.
“Ha, I got your little turkey,” Harmony muttered, typing a quick response to her sister. Gobble gobble, she wrote. Don’t eat all the tomatoes. – H. Shoving her phone into the pocket of her slacks, she checked her hair one last time in the mirror, locked her locker, and headed out toward the parking lot.
The drive to the restaurant was a long one, littered with red lights and crowded with rush hour drivers, and by the time Harmony reached the restaurant, she was tense with nerves. Slipping out of the Xterra, she pressed the button on her key fob and waited for the tell-tale sound of her car alarm engaging before she walked into the fondue restaurant that her family loved.
“Good evening, Miss Harmony,” the manager said, his voice booming above the noise of the dinner crowd as he stepped from the entrance podium to wrap a heavy arm around her shoulders. “Your sister is already here and waiting for you on the mezzanine. Would you like someone to walk you up?”
“No, thanks, Alfonso,” Harmony said, forcing a smile. She loved the older man – she had known him all her life, as he was one of her father’s best friends. But he was a touchy person with no regard for personal space, and his nearness left Harmony slightly uncomfortable. Scooting out from under Alfonso’s arm, she turned to look into his face. “Any idea which end of the mezzanine Cameron’s been seated on?”
“She’s on the far end,” Alfonso answered, taking Harmony’s elbow and guiding her around to the back side of the entrance podium. “Right here, I think.” Indicating a table on the seating chart fastened to the podium with a tap of one blunt finger, he laughed. “She said she likes being able to sit there by the fish.”
“Oh, the fish? I’m pretty sure I can find her, then. Thanks, Al,” Harmony said, turning to climb the spiral staircase that led to the mezzanine balcony.
At the top of the stairs, she wove easily through the tables, enjoying the low lighting, the wide aisles, and the personal and romantic atmosphere. The far wall was embedded with a floor-to-ceiling saltwater aquarium, filled with the quick orange dash of clownfish and the bright blue of the azure damselfish. Flaming red hawkfish dotted the coral shelves, and as Harmony stepped closer, she could see blue and yellow tangs moving in the crevices of the coral.
“Cameron?” she whispered quietly, touching her sister’s shoulder as she passed, sliding into the other side of the booth. A platter of vegetables already rested on the table, the round lip of one side barely hanging over the edge. A small pot of white sauce sat on the fondue burner set into the center of the table, with little heat bubbles popping softly at the top of the mixture.
“Hey, Harmony,” Cameron answered wearily. Closing a booklet of sample photos, Cameron crossed her feet under the table and propped her chin on one hand, her big brown eyes exhausted.
“Cam? What’s wrong?”
“This one wedding I’m doing. The bride is really very sure of what she wants, and she’s really very sure of what she’s willing to spend. She won’t increase her budget, and she won’t adjust what she wants me to accomplish. But I can’t seem to get the budget and the desire to come together, and I’m dreading having to tell her that I can’t possibly get what she wants for the budget she’s set.”
“Oh, so nothing big, then,” Harmony teased, winking. “All you need is a miracle.”
“I’m serious,” Cameron moaned, watching the fish in the aquarium. “I really don’t know what to do.”
“Well, what have you tried?” Harmony lifted a silver fondue fork, spearing a slice of cucumber and popping it into her mouth.
“Okay ... well, I tried showing her something a little cheaper but close to what she wanted. I tried desperately to get her to give more funds to the reception settings, because that’s where the problem is.”
“What’s this sauce?” Harmony asked, hovering a slice of red pepper over the pot of creamy white sauce.
“I have no idea, Harm, Alfonso said not to worry about dinner when I came, and then someone brought this. You know how he is,” Cameron laughed. “It’s good though, you should try it.”
“Okay,” Harmony said cautiously, skimming her fondue fork through the sauce and thoughtfully chewing the bite of dipped pepper. “Oh, this is delicious! So let me ask you something.”
Cameron lifted a cherry tomato from the edge of the tray and popped it neatly into her mouth, tucking the bite i
nto her cheek before speaking. “Okay …”
“Did you try showing your errant bride something that she can afford, that she hasn’t seen in a pamphlet, but maybe looks better than the picture of what she chose? I know it’s kind of pulling a fast one on her, but stuff like that usually looks a lot better in person, doesn’t it?”
Cameron rolled her eyes, tucking her dark curls behind her ears as she finally lifted a fondue fork of her own. ”I have no idea why I didn’t think of that. I’ve had similar brides before, but this one is just really adamant, and really picky, and she’s really demanding. She makes me nervous.”
“You think showing her some actual settings will help?”
“Absolutely! I seriously don’t even know why I didn’t think of that. I usually do that with all the brides, once they have some ideas for me to pull together for them to choose from. But this one, she wants everything so precise. I think she’s the most choosy bride I’ve ever worked with. And even after so many, this one is a bit intimidating.”
“Cute, you got your first Bridezilla,” Harmony laughed. Spearing a cube of bread, Harmony pretended to poke at Cameron before diverting her fork and swooping the bread through the white sauce.
“So what’s been up with you?” Cameron asked. “Mom said you’ve been struggling a little with all the changes.”
Harmony lowered her eyes, settling her fondue fork against the edge of the vegetable platter. Sighing, she met her sister’s eyes before looking away again. “She’s right. I mean, it’s not easy for me to let go. Remember when I was little and I’d only ever dress up as a gymnast for Halloween? And I had to watch every competition I could find on TV?”
“I remember,” Cameron said quietly. “I remember well. But Harmony, you have to realize that your life isn’t over, and –“
“I know. I just don’t know what else to do, you know? Like, job-wise? I like my job in the gym, and I like the kids. But I don’t want that to be the rest of my life. It’s not a career. It’s not going to buy me a nice house or support my kids someday.”
“That’s probably true. So then, how do you plan to figure it out?”
“I have no idea,” Harmony answered, lifting her fork again and holding it aside as a waiter cleared the table. He stepped back, allowing a slender waitress to step forward and replace the original white sauce with another, this one flecked with bits of black, orange and green.
“Spiced alfredo, courtesy of Alfonso,” she said. She stepped away as another waiter moved into the space, gently lowering a platter of various porcelain bowls.
“This one’s spinach ravioli, this one’s chicken,” he said. “And then, in here we have cubed French bread. And of course, broccoli, tomato, chicken. And here, you’ve got the kitchen’s finest steak, sliced and ready to go. Enjoy, ladies.”
The sisters murmured their thanks, giggling to each other as the wait staff moved away. Finally, Harmony took up her fork and lifted a piece of steak, skipping the alfredo sauce to appreciate the flavor of the steak on its own. “I don’t know what to do. Whitney seems to think I just need to relax and live in the moment, whatever that means.”
“Maybe she’s right. Just stop stressing over tomorrow and next year, and ten years from now,” Cameron said. “I know you worry about the past, and I know you plan obsessively for the future. But you’re missing right now, if you’re too focused on where you’ve already been. The same thing happens if you’re too focused on what hasn’t come yet.”
“Whitney says dating will help me clarify things, just getting out more, getting to know someone. That it will distract me. She says I just need to let go of everything and try to stop worrying, and just live each day. Kind of wait and see what happens. But I’ve never been that laid back and I guess I don’t know how to be like that. I don’t know how to just go with the flow.”
Cameron smiled, leaning over the table to catch a fat ravioli on the end of her fork. “It takes practice, but it gets easier. You know what things were like for me before – I think mom thought I was just going to grow old and die alone because I was too afraid to trust anyone. Living in the past,” she finished, raising an eyebrow pointedly at her sister.
“And Mac changed everything?” Harmony asked, tilting her head slightly as she watched a family settle into a booth on the other end of the mezzanine. “That’s what you’re saying?”
“He did. I don’t know how he did it, but he was just … different, I guess. He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever been around, and I found myself reacting to him in different ways than with anyone else.”
Unbidden, Xander appeared in Harmony’s mind. With a sigh, she said, “I don’t exactly know a lot of guys to choose from, Cameron.”
Cameron laughed. “You don’t need to. I didn’t. You just need to –“
“Have an open mind. Go with the flow,” Harmony laughed. “Yeah. That’s what Whitney keeps telling me.”
Chapter Nine
“And then … you will never … believe … what she said,” Harmony panted, glancing over at Whitney, who was on the next treadmill. They’d finished their last classes just after six and had stayed late after work to work out together, trying to talk while jogging on side-by-side treadmills. It had been nearly an hour though, and both girls were exhausted.
“I bet … I will,” Whitney breathed, her feet pounding against the belt of the treadmill. Her arms churned on either side of her body, her dark ponytail bouncing behind her as she moved. But her green eyes sparkled with laughter.
“She said … to … ‘have an open … mind’,” Harmony growled, still panting as she moved with the belt of the treadmill.
“Maybe she’s … right … and so is … the other person … who … told you … that,” Whitney gasped. Reaching out, she pressed the button to slow the pace of the treadmill, coming down from a fast run to an average walk. Still panting, she swiped the back of one hand over her forehead, and then looked at Harmony. “Just stop trying to plan everything,” she said when she’d caught her breath.
“Easier said … than done,” Harmony grumbled, slowing her treadmill, too. She waited until she could speak, stopped the treadmill and stepped gingerly onto the padded floor of the gym’s cardio room. “You know that I had my entire life planned by the time I was ten, Whitney. I knew where my career would go, I knew when I’d get married, I knew when I’d have kids, I knew how many there would be. I knew where I would live. And now everything is just … derailed. I don’t know how to be spontaneous, Whit. I’m a planner. I just feel stuck, I think.”
“Well, you know me, always here to help you unstick yourself.” She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “Well that didn’t sound the same out loud as it did in my head. Anyway, we’re going to do something spontaneous tonight, so if you had plans, cancel them. You’re coming out with me. And there’s a surprise in it for you, too.”
“Whit, you know I don’t do surprises,” Harmony moaned, allowing her friend to loop one still-damp arm through her elbow. They walked together toward the locker room, Whitney giggling quietly to herself as they went.
In the locker room, Whitney flattened the palm of her hand over the front of Harmony’s locker. “You won’t need anything out of there,” she said, grinning mischievously.
“Uh, Whit,” Harmony said dryly, opening her arms to display her sweat-soaked tank top. “You may not have noticed, but I’m gross. If I’m going anywhere, I’m going to need my shower stuff, my towel –“
“And your underwear, and that’s it,” Whitney interrupted. “I brought stuff for you to wear.”
“Hmm. Whitney, you may not have noticed this either,” Harmony answered gently, crossing her arms self-consciously over her small chest. “But we don’t exactly wear the same sizes. You know, boobs and stuff … I don’t have them.”
Whitney rolled her eyes, moving to allow Harmony access to her locker. Opening the door to her own locker, she muttered, “Oh please.” In a louder voice, she said, “You’ve got some. You don�
��t need huge boobs to be feminine, Harmony, and you’ve always been confident. The love your body type. What is with you lately?”
“I don’t know, honestly,” Harmony sighed. “But I’m such a mope lately that I’m even sick of myself. I have got to get out of this funk.”
“And I’m going to drag you out of it, even if I have to do it while you’re kicking and screaming. Put these on when you get out of the shower,” Whitney commanded, turning to hold out a small black plastic bag. “And don’t open it until you’re standing there wet and naked and helpless and in need of clothes!” Winking flirtatiously, Whitney stalked off to the showers, leaving Harmony alone.
“That girl is insane,” Harmony muttered to herself. Stuffing the bag under her arm, she opened her locker, digging in her gym bag for the clean towel and matching underwear set that she’d thrown in that morning.
Wrestling Harmony (The Kingsley Series) Page 6
