“You ready to throw me in the air or what, Gavin?”
Right at the lyric, “She makes love just like a woman,” she ran toward me, I picked her up, and a moment later she was over my head. I could feel her strength in my hands. We were steady. I knew she made love just like a woman; I could feel it in my fingertips.
Doug clapped. “Beautiful. Hold it. Beautiful, just beautiful.”
It felt like she weighed nothing.
“Okay, Gavin, you’re going to cradle her now. Watch her knee.”
When I dropped her into my arms, she giggled, but I was frozen... mesmerized.
“What?” she said. “Why are you staring at me?”
“I don’t know.” I held her.
All of a sudden I didn’t want to fuck her anymore. I mean I did, but more than that, I wanted to get to know her.
When I set her down, she said, “Well done. You’re an old pro.”
“That was easy.”
Doug came onto the stage. “Don’t worry, that was it,” he told me. “We’re not going to ask you to dance. I wanted Penny to test something. How’d you feel?” he asked her.
“Strong,” she said.
“Good. Keep your head up. I’ll bring Joey in for extra conditioning. He needs to regain his confidence.”
Doug shook my hand and said, “Thanks a lot, Gavin. This whole thing is about trust. It seems like you two have it.”
She trusted me?
“Penny and Joey have struggled with their lifts lately. It’s not always easy to find the right partner. It requires a subtle alchemy. You know? A little bit of magic.”
I looked over at Penny, who was squinting at me with the same peculiar look I’m sure I was giving her. I didn’t take my eyes off her when I responded to Doug. “Well, she is my best friend, so yeah, the trust is there.”
Penny laughed and shook her head.
After she gathered her stuff and we headed to the door, she turned to me. “Sure you don’t mind taking a look at my car and giving me a ride? I live really close by.”
Giving me a ride?
“I’m sure I don’t mind. Let’s hit it.”
I was converting every word of our conversation into a sexual proposition. I needed to get a grip.
6.Nine Months Ago
PENNY
Checking my calendar for the fifth time that morning, it occurred to me that it was the first day since my son was born that I didn’t have some obligation that had to do with raising a child, running a household, or being married. There were no soccer practices or guitar lessons after school. It wasn’t my carpool day. I didn’t have a grocery list to fulfill, or science project supplies to buy, or bills to pay, or laundry to do. I just had coffee to drink and a backyard to stare at.
I kissed my son good-bye for the day, came back inside, and took a bubble bath. I knew it would be the highlight of my day, so I took my time. It was fall but sunny and warm out. I decided to shave my legs on the off chance that someone would see them. My husband had been at work since before I even woke up, and he’d be away for the next two days on business in Michigan or Minnesota. Some place colder than Fort Collins, was all I knew. He stopped telling me where he was going, and frankly, I stopped caring.
My life was usually an exercise in completing the same list of responsibilities over and over again. It was mundane. I felt like I was losing myself, who I was, and what my dreams were. But I had my bed and a roof over my head—at least that’s what my mother would tell me. And magically, there were only a few things to do today.
After turning up the heater to seventy-eight degrees, knowing it would piss off my husband, I walked around naked for a while and thought about masturbating, but I was too lazy. I weighed myself twice—once before I ate a bowl of cereal and once after. Then I went through all of Facebook... literally. I looked at the profile of every single person I was friends with from high school, and then I looked at the clock. It was only ten a.m.
I threw on a pair of tattered sweats, put on some music, stretched, and did some dancing in our loft, which my husband had converted into a tiny studio for me. My only outlet for creativity.
