“Do you have a brochure or something? I’ve really got to go.”
The woman handed her a card, and Uma left.
Minutes later, she stood on Ms. Lloyd’s front porch, pounding on the door, with cold feet and a strong sense of déjà vu. A glance at her watch told her it was after six. Definitely past dinnertime, according to her boss’s rigid schedule, and the woman had left the porch light off. A sure sign of the kind of night Uma was in for.
“Go away!” the voice called through the door.
“It’s cold out here, Ms. Lloyd.”
“Yeah, well, you should have thought of that before you went gallivanting off and left me here to fend for myself, shouldn’t you?”
“Please let me in.”
“You can come back tomorrow.”
“I’ve got no place to sleep.”
“That’s not my problem.”
Uma dropped her head to the door. “Please. It’s freezing out here!”
“You wanted the evening off—well, you got the whole night. You should feel lucky. It’ll give you something to think about next time you try to skip out on your job.”
“Would you mind throwing me my things? Please?” A perfectly good jacket hung in Uma’s closet.
“Nuh-uh. How else can I guarantee that you won’t go running off on me? No. You can get your stuff in the morning. Now git!”
Through the door, Uma listened to thethump thumpof her cane as the woman shuffled away, followed by the exuberant trumpet call of the evening news. Should she continue knocking, just to drive her crazy? Probably not. She wouldn’t put it past Ms. Lloyd to call the cops on her.
When did it get so cold?she wondered, shivering as she turned to eye the darkness beyond, hating to leave the porch and the slight shelter it provided. Her thoughts landed, for a millisecond, on the house next door, where she imagined Ive having dinner with his wife and kid, but even from here, she could see it was dark.
Not that she would have had the courage to knock anyway.
6
With few options, Uma drove back downtown. She tried the door of the skin clinic. Closed. A glance next door showed the martial arts school still wide open.
No more excuses, then. She walked inside.
“You’re back!” said Jessie before handing her a form to fill out.
She put her name as Uma Smith, using Ms. Lloyd’s address, removed her shoes, and moved into the room, where a couple of men fought on a mat.
The place was cavernous, larger than you’d guess from the street, and sparse. A male space if she’d ever seen one. Floor-length punching bags hung in a corner of the room, along with a few sets of heavy-looking weights and benches. Toys for boys.
Her eyes moved back to the pair fighting.
The one whose back was to the room was huge. They apparently grew them big around here. Both men wore padded head protectors, which covered their ears and left only their faces open. The little one did something with his leg, whipping it out in a surprisingly quick kick, and they both ended up on the mat. Uma stepped back with a start.
They went from kicking and punching to what looked like complicated wrestling, legs everywhere, bodies wrapped tightly around each other. It was almost tender before it got violent again.
They rolled, then got stuck in a complex knot of straining limbs and grunts. The smaller guy fought hard but was quickly overwhelmed, faceup on the floor, with the big guy above, covering him.Wow.Uma forced her breath to slow, through a blend of fear and something different—exciting and titillating and almost…erotic.
“Awesome, isn’t it?” Jessie said from beside her. Uma barely spared her a glance. “They’re clearly not the same weight class, but it’s slim pickin’s around here for training partners. These guys have been fighting each other for years.”
Uma nodded to be polite but kept her eyes glued to the action.
“We cover some of this stuff in class.”
