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Authors: Virginia Smith

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Age Before Beauty (22 page)

BOOK: Age Before Beauty
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Valerie punched a button on a boom box and jogged the few steps to the front of the class. The music began, some sort of techno-sounding song that Allie didn’t recognize but had a loud beat. Valerie lifted her hands slowly above her head. As one, the class did likewise. Allie did the same.

“Reach, ladies,” Valerie commanded. “And stretch … stretch … and down … down. Don’t forget to breathe.”

Valerie’s words came in sync with the beat of the music. Allie stretched and breathed, and mimicked the girls all around her in bringing her arms down to her sides. They repeated the movement, holding the stretch as long as Valerie told them to, and then stretched side to side.

The tempo of the music changed. At the same moment Valerie shouted, “We’re going to pick it up here, ladies. Start with the right in four … three … two … one.”

As one, the class began marching in place. A full beat behind, Allie started marching like them, but she had to do a couple of quicksteps to catch up. It was sort of like walking in place, not hard at all. She could do this. But the minute she settled into the routine, Valerie changed the movement again.

“Now take it wide.”

Everybody stepped outward, still walking in place but with their feet spaced wider. Again, Allie quickstepped until she caught the rhythm. Valerie shouted, “Pick up those knees, bring them up. That’s right. And now take it in. Four … three … two … Now tap it out.”

The movement changed again, this time a toe tap, but everybody’s arms were bending at the elbow like they were lifting dumbells. Allie’s breath came harder. How could she be expected to move her arms
and
her feet at the same time?

“Four … three … two … and turn.”

Turn! Allie heard the command and froze for half a second. The entire class turned to the left in unison, never missing a beat with their toe tapping and elbow bending. Allie quickly aligned herself and caught up. How did they know which way to turn?

“Good, and get ready to slide … four … three … two … slide.”

Slide? What the heck did that mean? Allie kept marching in place, but the entire class suddenly shifted gracefully about three steps sideways. The girl on her right sidestepped around her without missing a beat. Allie rushed toward the place she was supposed to be, and picked up the toe-tapping rhythm again.

“Lift those knees, ladies!” urged Valerie. “And four, and three, and two, and one.”

The entire class shifted again, this time to the right, leaving Allie standing on her own. No fair! Valerie didn’t even say to slide that time. How did everybody know what to do? She rushed to her place and started toe tapping, but nobody else was toe tapping. They were doing some sort of backward step, their feet coming up behind them while their arms went up and down above their heads.

A drop of sweat slid down the side of Allie’s face and her heart pounded in tempo with the beat of the music. This was hard work! Not just the exercise, but trying to keep up with everyone. They’d obviously done this routine many times. Either that or this exercise thing was like line dancing where everybody in the world was supposed to know the moves.

Allie’s teeth ground against each other. She had always been lousy at line dancing.

Another drop of sweat dripped off her forehead, this time right into her eye. Ouch! She rubbed her watering eye just as the group turned again, this time swinging their arms right and left in sync with Valerie’s counting. The girl beside Allie wasn’t as quick this time, and she slapped Allie in the arm. Hard. Double ouch.

“Sorry,” the girl said, breathless, and kept right on swinging.

Allie scooted out of slapping distance and turned so she faced the same way as everyone else. She was now on the front row, facing her own reflection with the entire class spread out around her. Darcy caught her eye in the mirror and grinned. Allie returned the grin, but hers looked more like a grimace. She watched herself and realized her marching gait looked clumsy next to their perfectly synchronized movements, a klutz in the middle of ballerinas. Her bangs were starting to stick to her forehead. She raked them back, which was a mistake, because now she looked deranged. While she was messing up her hair, the group swung around again, leaving her staring into the mirror alone.

Panting hard, Allie whirled around and glanced at the clock hanging above the door. Nine ten. They’d only been going ten minutes? The class was supposed to last fifty minutes. No way could she make it all the way to the end.

“And four, and three, and two, and one.” As everyone started an in-and-out movement with their legs that looked like a complicated dance step, Valerie shouted, “Remember, if you feel uncomfortable, just march in place until you catch your breath and then join in again.”

No doubt who that piece of information was aimed at. Embarrassed but grateful, Allie lowered her arms. She could march with the best of them. She still had to watch the group, or she’d get trampled when they started prancing around the room, but at least she didn’t look like an elephant in a tutu when she was just marching.

By the time the class ended, sweat had plastered her hair to her head and run in rivers down her chest until her bra was soaked. The bottoms of her feet tingled and her legs felt like jelly, but she’d made it all the way to the end. True, she had marched through most of it, but at least she didn’t quit. And she’d made a decision. Aerobics classes were definitely not her style. She’d rather be fat than go through this humiliation again. Darcy obviously had a firm claim on any Varie Cose customer leads this group had to offer, so there was no business benefit to being here, either.

As she limped toward the door to follow the others out, Valerie called, “We’re glad you joined us, Allie. See you on Monday!”

Allie bit back her response. It wouldn’t be polite.

19

When she slid behind the wheel of her car, Allie checked her cell phone. Two missed calls from Joan. She pressed a button to redial as she pulled from the parking lot onto the street. Joan picked up on the second ring.

“Hey. What do you have going on tomorrow night?”

Allie held the phone with her left hand so she could steer with her right. “Uh, nothing.” She’d been unable to get a party booked for Saturday night. Yet another reason to worry.

“Good. We’re having a Sanderson Sister Sleepover. Mom’s working third shift so we’ll have the whole house to ourselves.”

The sisters made it a priority to get together every so often for sleepovers since the early months of Allie’s marriage, when Eric was working second shift and she got so lonely at night by herself. But now … “Oh, Joan, I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Bring Joanie with you. She’s old enough for her first sleepover.”

“What about Eric?” Allie pressed the brake and stopped at a stoplight. “I’ve been gone so much I feel guilty leaving him at home alone when I finally have a night free.”

“Isn’t Betty still there?”

Allie scowled, then realized the expression was wasted since Joan couldn’t see her. “Oh yeah.”

“Then he won’t be alone. Eric will understand if you tell him how important this is.”

“It might help if I knew how important it is.”

A moment of silence, and then Joan said, “I’m worried about Tori.” Concern made her voice tight. “She hasn’t had a day off in forever. She even goes into the office on Sunday afternoons. When I talked to her today, she told me she’s planning to work this weekend too.” She paused. “She doesn’t sound like herself, Allie. I think the stress is getting to her. We need to get her away from that office so she can unwind. That’s our job as her sisters.”

Allie could certainly attest to the fact that Tori’s stress was getting to her. The light turned green and she pressed the accelerator. “I don’t know, Joan. I’ll have to talk to Eric and see what he says.”

“Allie, please try. I think it would be good for you too. You need some sister time.”

Well, she didn’t know about
needing
sister time, but she could sure use a relaxing night out without having to worry about Varie Cose, or Betty, or …
gulp
… Molly. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” Relief lightened Joan’s tone. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ve got customers all over the store. Talk to you later.”

When Joan disconnected the call, Allie slipped her phone into the console. She and Eric hadn’t exchanged more than a few terse words last night when she got home from her meeting at Sally Jo’s house. She’d intended to talk to him about Betty, tell him they needed to come up with a plan to get his mother back to Detroit where she belonged. But when she walked through the front door, the sight of him sitting on the couch staring at the television had set her teeth on edge.

Actually, the dispatch center was only a few blocks away. It had been a long time since she’d been to Eric’s work, not since Joanie was a couple of weeks old and she’d taken her by to let Eric show her off to his co-workers.

She flipped the blinker lever and glanced in the mirror before changing lanes. If he was having a slow day, maybe he could take a break and they could talk. At least there they wouldn’t have to hide in their bedroom and keep their voices at a whisper.

Minutes later she pulled into the dispatch center’s parking lot. Her car rolled to a stop beside Eric’s truck, and Allie twisted the rearview mirror so she could get a look at herself.

Ah. Not good. She rummaged in her purse for a brush and tamed the worst of her flyaway hair. At least the chilly November air had stopped her sweating and freeze-dried her hair so it was no longer plastered to her scalp. No makeup, but she patted her whole face with powder from her compact to dim the red glow left over from the aerobics class. Maybe Eric would be pleased that she’d finally put his birthday present to good use.

The heavy windowless door had a code lock on it, so Allie stepped past it to the window looking into the dispatch room. Eric stood just inside. She raised her hand to tap on the glass. But then she expelled the breath without speaking.

Molly sat at Eric’s desk with Eric standing beside her. One of his arms rested across the back of her chair as he leaned forward pointing with the other hand at something on the computer monitor. His lips moved as he said something, then they both laughed, and Molly twisted in her seat to look up at him. Icy fingers gripped Allie by the throat as she watched Molly’s eyes cut sideways.

That floozy was flirting with her husband!

Allie stood as though her feet had stuck to the sidewalk, her mind whirling. What should she do? Bang on the window to alert them to her presence, and then pretend like nothing was out of line here? Or wait until Eric let her in, and then snatch him out of that woman’s reach? Better yet, march in there and grab a handful of that dark hair and jerk it out by the roots?

She didn’t have time to do anything, because Molly caught sight of her. For one second their gazes locked, and a flash of guilt showed on the brunette’s face. In the next second it was gone and she drew backward, away from Eric.

Eric looked up and caught sight of her. He straightened. Was that annoyance she saw on his face, or just surprise? He pointed toward the door and headed that way.

Allie stepped inside when he opened the door.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were coming by.”

Obviously not. Allie forced her jaws to unclench as she glanced into the other room. She tried to keep her voice light, but when she spoke, the words squeaked out through a tight throat. “I just left the gym and thought I’d stop by to see if you had some free time to talk.” She allowed her gaze to stray toward Molly again. “I guess you’re busy.”

Molly held her gaze for a second and then broke eye contact. A spot of color appeared on each cheek as she got out of Eric’s chair and went to her own desk. The few times Allie had met Molly she’d been wearing sloppy jeans and T-shirts, and usually no makeup. With a jolt of alarm Allie realized that the girl had gussied herself up since then. The deep red sweater Molly wore flattered her dark eyes and creamy complexion. The plunging neckline showed a little too much cleavage for Allie’s comfort. A minute ago when Eric stood above her, looking down …

Heat dampened her neck beneath the collar of her sloppy T-shirt.

“Good for you,” Eric said. “What did you think of the place? Ritzy, isn’t it?”

Allie couldn’t trust her voice, so she just nodded.

“Since you haven’t been home, you haven’t seen the pictures your mom emailed this morning. I was just showing them to Molly. They’re from your birthday dinner. Come look at this one of Tori holding Joanie at the table.”

They were looking at pictures of Joanie? Allie took a couple of steps to stand beside Eric so she could see his monitor. The camera had caught Joanie wide-eyed, her precious little lips forming a tight
O
of surprise that exactly matched the expression on Aunt Tori’s face. It was a totally sweet picture that would have made Allie laugh too if she wasn’t focusing all her efforts on trying not to slap the woman sitting at the next desk.

“That’s a good one. We should print it and frame it for Tori.” Her gaze slid sideways, but Molly had become engrossed in her own computer and didn’t look their way. Did she always dress like that? Allie pulled the unzipped edges of her jacket together in the front to hide the sloppy T-shirt. But the jacket wasn’t long enough to hide her enormous thighs, which felt about five times the size of Molly’s at the moment. What in the world had possessed her to come here wearing sweats and ragged gym shoes?

“There are a couple more good ones too. Here, look at this one.”

Eric leaned toward the keyboard, but Allie stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

The speakers emitted a blast of static followed by a male voice with a bunch of numbers. Molly pressed a switch and answered with more numbers. None of it made sense to Allie, though she had come to understand a few of the codes over the years, since sometimes Eric forgot himself and used them at home.

Eric seemed unconcerned by whatever that call meant, though. “Yeah, it’s a slow day.” He said to Molly, “Can you hold down the fort for a few minutes?”

BOOK: Age Before Beauty
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