Running Lean (28 page)

When no one was looking at her, Stacey cracked open the bottle cap and sipped the water. It slid down her throat and into her stomach, cooling her insides and helping her nerves to settle down. She drank more, until half the bottle was gone. And as she relaxed, exhaustion overwhelmed her. Stacey capped her bottle, cradled it
against her chest, and curled up sideways on the chair in a tight ball. Stupid Stacey fell quiet and allowed her to sleep.

Familiar voices echoed in the room. She willed them to go away and let her sleep. Daddy bellowed her name. Stacey’s eyes felt like they were sealed with glue, though she managed to force them open. Her father stood over her, his form seeming to swallow up all the light in the ranger’s office.

“Before we leave here, I want answers.” He wasn’t yelling, but the low rumble of his voice was just as commanding, maybe worse. “Were you trying to run away with that boy?”

She rubbed some gunk from her eyes. “No, Daddy.”

“Then why the Sam Hill did you drive four hours from home to find him?”

“Stan, can we discuss this after we’ve got her home?” Mom came around Daddy’s side and clasped his arm. “Let’s find a nice hotel for the night and we can all get some sleep.”

“In a minute. Talk to me, young lady.”

Stacey pushed herself up off the arm of the chair. Amazingly calm. Wanting only to go home.

“I’m sorry. I made a stupid mistake. I just wanted to talk to Calvin and I couldn’t get him on the phone. I didn’t realize how far it was to the campground, and when I got lost I freaked out. That’s all that happened. Calvin didn’t do anything wrong, so please don’t blame him.”

“Hmm, we’ll see. Where are your car keys?”

“Umm, I don’t know. I think …”

“We have them here,” Deputy Tucker said. He crossed the room and handed Stacey’s keys to her mother.

“No more car. My mistake was in assuming you were mature enough to handle the responsibility.”

That hurt. That brought the tears again. “No, please don’t take my car. I’m sorry! Please don’t …”

“And her phone? Where is that?”

“No! Daddy, don’t!”

“We didn’t take anything out of the car, so it may be in there,” Deputy Tucker said.

“Fine. Up. We’re going.”

Unable to stop her tears, Stacey gathered her feet under her and made them push her body up. Mom wrapped her arm about Stacey’s shoulder, pulling her close against her side. Showing affection or keeping her from running? She thanked the park rangers for looking after her daughter, then guided Stacey outside.

Stacey immediately shivered in the night air. A fine mist wet her skin and shined on the asphalt. Mom briskly rubbed her arm.

Stacey’s Honda was in the parking lot, but it was Daddy’s police cruiser they walked to. It would have been just perfect if Daddy put her in the backseat like one of his arrestees, but he opened the front door for her instead. Which meant she’d have to sit beside him and endure his lectures all the way home. Mom walked away, and after Daddy closed the passenger door of his car, Stacey watched her mother cross the small lot to her Honda. The two spoke to each other, coordinating their destination and route, and then Daddy took the wheel of his car.

The clock on his dashboard read 2:18. Maybe he’d be too tired to talk.

With her seat belt secure, Stacey tucked her legs up, trying to curl into a ball again to ward off the cold.

“Feet off the upholstery,” Daddy said.

She plunked her feet down. And stared straight ahead as they left the little town and drove along a two-lane road in the middle of
nowhere. The whole world was dark for miles and miles. The mist turned to rain. The cruiser’s windshield wipers slapping back and forth ticked off the moments and lured Stacey toward sleep.

But finally Daddy spoke. “I can’t believe you did this. I might have expected something like this from Renee, but not from you.”

She didn’t bother to apologize. It wouldn’t do any good.

“I’m very disappointed.”

He fell silent for a long time. Was that it? No more lectures?

But then, “That boy, Calvin. You’re not to see him again.”

“What? Daddy, he didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Maybe not. But you did. And you involved him. So we’re going to remove all distractions, get to the bottom of whatever is going on with you, and fix it. Including this anorexia garbage.”

Oh … wonderful
.

T
he air inside the tent was steamy. Staring at the green nylon roof above him, Calvin dragged the heavy air into his lungs and kicked out of his sleeping bag. Tyler was gone. A female voice murmured somewhere in the campsite, and he could hear some rummaging in the distance. Calvin’s throat was raw. He rubbed it and sniffed. Great. All he needed was a cold. He pulled on a pair of flip-flops then unzipped the tent flap and ducked through.

“‘Bout time you got up.” Flannery kept her eyes on a paperback book she held flattened against the picnic table. The only energy she seemed to expend was in jiggling one booted foot.

Answering her would probably hurt his throat. Calvin grunted. Yep. Hurt. He turned his back on Flannery and plodded down the lane to the bathroom. Grit from the moist ground got under his toes. It had rained during the night, so trails would be a mess.

If he had the heart to ride at all.

When he returned, Tyler rose from a canvas chair and gestured for him to sit. Calvin croaked thanks and plopped down, grateful for the remaining heat from the morning campfire near his feet.

Patty came out of the camper. “You missed breakfast. You were snoozing big time, so we didn’t wake you. There’s milk and cereal in the RV if you’re hungry.”

Calvin sniffed and nodded. Maybe he’d even get up in a few minutes to find something to eat. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine. Dad and Nigel have been gone since before dawn.” Flannery closed her book and untangled her legs from the picnic table bench. “Get dressed. Grab an apple. Let’s hit the trails before lunch.”

Calvin cleared his throat. He’d tossed and turned most of the night, unable to get his mind to settle down. He blamed the thunderstorm, croaking frogs, chattering raccoons, lumps from little pebbles or bits of pine bark under his sleeping bag, and Tyler’s snoring. The truth was he just couldn’t stop thinking about Stacey. And now he was paying for it.

Calvin stayed slumped in the chair, staring at a flickering ember amid the ashes.

“Tell me you’re not sick,” Patty said.

“Stupid cold or something,” he mumbled.

Flannery groaned. “That mean you’re not riding? Great. Just great.”

Tyler speared her with a piece of pine straw. “Dude, shut up.”

So, what? They expected him to just go on with their camping trip as if nothing had happened last night? Calvin made eye contact with Flannery, but decided getting angry would take too much energy.

“I’m okay. And I
will
be riding. Just give me some time to wake up.”

Patty pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Hmm, no fever. Tell you what, though. Let’s drive in to the store and get you some of those zinc cough drops, just to be safe. Then we can call and see if Stacey made it home okay last night.”

“Thanks.” Calvin sniffed. At least someone understood.

Patty ran her fingers through his hair. “Come on, hon. We’ll take your pickup.”

Calvin sniffled and cleared his throat all the way to the town of Troy. Patty parked the pickup next to a drugstore. With a good signal on Patty’s cell, Calvin dialed Stacey’s phone number. The call went straight to voice mail.

“The number you have reached is not available …”

He waited for the beep and left a message. “Hey. It’s me.” His voice sounded like one of the frogs at the campground last night. “Just wanted to see if you got home okay. Umm, I wish things had gone different last night, but … well, I’m happy that, like, we seemed to get a couple of things settled. Kind of. So … Anyway, we’ll be coming home on Wednesday. I’ll try to call you again before then. I love you. Bye.”

Calvin handed Patty’s phone back to her.

She turned sad eyes to him. “That was pretty intense last night. Want to talk about it?”

He didn’t. At least not with a burning throat. He stared at his feet, hoping she’d take the hint but not be insulted.

Patty sighed. “Is it true, what Tyler said? Stacey is anorexic?”

He wiggled his foot on the floorboard, bouncing slightly in his seat.

“I don’t know what makes girls starve themselves like that. I saw a report on television about it. Horrible, horrible thing. Calvin, let’s take a moment before we go inside to pray for her.”

Calvin raised his eyebrows. Yes, prayer. They could do that. As long as he wasn’t the one that had to speak.

Patty reached across the bench seat to clasp his shoulder. “Father God, we just ask you to watch over that pretty little girl, Stacey, and touch her heart with your love. I don’t know everything she’s dealing with, so I can only ask that you put your healing hand upon
her mind and her heart and her body in whatever ways she needs it. See her through her troubles and let her know she’s not alone, that she has people who love her and are pulling for her, and most of all, God, that you love her. Calvin and I are just so worried.”

Calvin couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even get his brain to form words that made any sense. As Patty’s prayer brought unexpected tears, his thoughts could only echo,
yes, God, please
.

“And Lord, I pray for Calvin. It’s pretty clear to me that he’s just heartbroken over this thing. I pray he’ll find the right words to help Stacey, and that he is able to not only support her in the ways she needs but look after himself as well. Give him the strength to battle this cold, and help him find some peace as he goes riding. Please keep all the kids safe as they ride. And thank you, God, for your presence in our lives. Amen.”

“Amen.” Calvin sniffed. His bowed head and the few tears sent more gunk to the front of his sinuses.

Patty squeezed his shoulder and smiled. “Let’s get you something for those sniffles.”

The old truck’s door hinges squealed and clunked as Patty got out. Calvin lagged behind, but as he walked into the store, a prayer burbled up from somewhere deep within him.
Lord, I don’t understand all this. I read lots of stuff, and I tried everything I know how, and I still don’t understand. But please let Stacey get better. Please
.

S
tacey lay with the hotel blankets pulled up to her jaw, pretending to be asleep. Her parents probably thought their voices wouldn’t carry beyond the bathroom, where Mom was fixing her hair, but Stacey could hear every word.

“She’s doing this to herself. It’s a phase,” Daddy said, “and it ends now.”

“I don’t know, Stan. Some things I read said it’s a mental disorder—”

“They call everything disorders these days. Every form of bad behavior gets a name that turns the perp into a victim.”

“This is our daughter we’re talking about. Not some criminal you’ve arrested.”

“It was just an example,” Daddy muttered.

Stacey’s stomach was hollow, but she wanted to puke. Her breakfast, provided by room service, sat on the table by the window, ready for when she rolled out of bed. No doubt Daddy would stand guard over her as she ate each bite.

“What are you doing?” Daddy asked. “Why are you cleaning the sink? They have maids to do that sort of thing.”

“There was hair in it. Stan, we can’t afford to ignore this. What if it damages her heart?”

Mom would stuff her head full of information that would tell her everything she needed to know about how to
fix
her daughter—Step One, Step Two, Step Three—and make everything all right again. Mom would be on the Internet when they got home, searching, analyzing, judging. Just like Calvin. Worse than Calvin.

Tears slid sideways down Stacey’s face to wet the sheet. She made no effort to sniff or wipe them away. No movement; she wanted to hear more.

“We’re going to have to spend more time with her,” Mom said. “Make sure she eats properly. Keep telling her we love her. Maybe I’ll take off work for the summer.”

“We can’t afford for you to do that.”

“We can’t afford for Stacey to be anorexic, either. What if she gets sick again?”

“That won’t happen. She’s going to eat properly, because we’ll hold her accountable.”

“How will we do that?”

“Rewards and consequences. She’s not too old for it. Don’t you remember when we were kids, when we did things that drove our parents nuts?” Dad paused, and someone turned the water on. The swooshy sound of teeth-brushing ensued. Daddy kept talking, which meant Mom was the one with foam in her mouth. “My father knocked some sense into me a few times, and, boy-howdy, I needed it. What we need to do now is take control of the situation and put Stacey back on the right path. She’s not getting her car back until she’s straightened herself up. And she’s done dating that boy.”

Mom spat. “It’s not Calvin’s fault. He’s a good boy.”

“She ran after him. And I’ll bet he put her up to it. And then there’s that girl, Zoe. She’s trouble if ever I saw it coming.”

Stacey pressed her fist against her mouth, stifling her squeak.

Mom muttered something Stacey couldn’t hear

“Renee,” Dad growled. “
She’s
another matter. Girl doesn’t have
enough common sense to fill a paper cup. But she’ll grow outta that too.”

“Renee is not going through a phase! What if she ends up pregnant? She’s an adult now. We can’t do the consequences and rewards thing with her anymore.”

“Oh, really? We’ll see what happens if she gets caught drinking and spends a little time in jail. Along
with
Mr. Preston Stiles.”

The water turned off, replaced by packing sounds, loud enough that Stacey envisioned Mom ramming things into her makeup case. “You’re going to tough-love both girls right out of our house. Renee’s halfway gone already. But Stacey is sick. She needs help.”

I’m not sick
.

“She’s only sick because she makes herself sick.”

Stop it, stop it
.

“How did it get to this point? What did we do wrong?”

Nothing. Shut up. Please shut up
.

“I don’t know. Maybe we coddled her too much.”

“So you’re saying this is my fault?”

“What? I didn’t say that. I said
we
.”

“You know, when she was little and she was heavy, I never said anything to her like, ‘Oh, you need to lose weight.’ I always tried to affirm her.”

Chubbikins! Chubbikins-Chubbikins-Chubbikins! Daddy said it! You thought it was cute!

They came out of the bathroom together, and Mom kept talking. “We need to find a counselor for her.”

“Hush. She’ll hear you. Just get her up, make her eat, and let’s get out of here.”

“Stan …”

There was a long pause, and Stacey dared to open her eyes. In the mirror at the foot of her bed, she saw her parents embracing each other.

“Come on now, don’t cry,” Daddy murmured. “We’ll get through this. We’ll figure it out.”

Do you feel
my
pain, Daddy? Do you see
me
crying? You never really stop to look
.

The moment they arrived home, Mom scurried into the kitchen, promising sandwiches for an early dinner. Stacey wanted to flee to her room and lock the door, but Daddy would only find a way to open it. Maybe he’d remove the doorknob so she wouldn’t be able to keep any secrets anymore. So instead, she lay down on the living room sofa, carsick and exhausted, and hoped they’d leave her alone.

No such luck. Mom called everyone to the table half an hour later, and Daddy insisted that Stacey get up.

She was met by ham sandwiches piled high with meat, cheese, lettuce, and tomato. A bribe; ham and cheese had been Stacey’s favorite since the time she was able to feed herself. Mounds of chips surrounded the sandwiches. And pickles. Mom said she had an apple pie in the freezer she could bake if Stacey wanted it.

Stacey stared at the picture-perfect meal set before her. “I’m feeling nauseous from the car ride. Can I take this to my room and eat it after I’ve had a nap?”

Can I throw it out my window and hope a stray dog will find it?

“Eat the sandwich,” Daddy said. “It’ll help you feel better.”

Renee dragged herself to the table, dressed in clothes that looked like she might have worn them to bed. She plopped down and rubbed her eyes, then her temples. What had Renee done last night with the house all to herself?

Eating sounds took over. Stacey stared at her plate. The food drew her and repelled her at the same time. They’d forced two meals
into her already that day, not knowing that her requests to pull off into rest stops had been to get rid of the food. Mom, driving Stacey’s car, wouldn’t go into such places, so Stacey was free to brave the germs and do what she had to do. But now … couldn’t they let her skip one meal because she was honestly carsick?

“Stacey. Eat,” Dad barked.

She jumped in her seat then touched the sandwich with her fingers.

“Where’d you go yesterday anyway?” Renee asked. “Mom said you ran away.”

Stacey leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table, and shouted at her sister. “I did not run away! Okay? I went to see Calvin, but I got lost, and that’s the only reason anything bad happened.”

“Church boy Calvin? I thought y’all broke up.” Renee waggled her eyebrows like she knew some secret. “Besides, doesn’t he live, like, five miles away or something? Where did y’all go together to kiss and make up?”

I hate you
. “Nowhere. He was camping with friends and I went to find him.”

“All right, we’re not going to talk about this anymore,” Daddy said. “Eat your dinner, both of you.”

Renee lifted the top of her sandwich. “Needs mustard. I’m gonna sit outside, anyway.” She pushed her chair back, the legs scraping on the floor, and stood.

Dad reached across the corner of the table to grab Renee’s chair. “Sit back down and eat.”

“No. I’m going out.”

Here we go
.

There’d been a time when Renee was the shining light of the family, the perfect pigtailed darling who was into Girl Scout merit badges and high school cheerleading. Stacey remembered the times
she waited around with Mom while Renee attended gymnastics or cheerleading practice. Mom was the appointed chauffer and Stacey was the unwilling and bored-out-of-her-skull tagalong passenger. No one ever thought to enroll her in gymnastics. Not little Chubbikins. She wasn’t strong enough. Her poor heart … She’d just be embarrassed, like that one time they put her in dance class and she looked ridiculous next to the other little girls.
Are you sure you want to go out for the pom-pom squad, sweetie? Those girls are so competitive
.

So Stacey drew her pictures and read fantasy novels and dreamed she was someone else. Someone beautiful.

“Can I, uh, I’m going outside too. I need some fresh air.”

Daddy watched her stand, one lowered eyebrow almost pinching his eye. “You’d better eat that sandwich. If I find it in the trash—”

“Stan!”

Stacey fled, leaving her parents to argue. In the backyard, Renee took over the swing, stretching her legs sideways across the slatted seat. Stacey dragged a lawn chair through the wet grass to sit next to her sister. She took a tiny bite of her sandwich. The sweet ham tickled her tongue, made her mouth water. She rolled it around in her mouth, savoring it until the taste faded and the meat got mushy.

“So, why’d you run away? You don’t need to tell me the same lies you tell them. I’m not going to rat on you.” Renee bobbed her feet in time to whatever song was in her head.

Stacey sighed. “I didn’t lie. I honestly did not run away. But …” She looked at her sister. An unlikely, but possible, ally. Renee would hear soon enough that she was
anorexic
and needed
counseling
. “They think I’m anorexic.”

“Yeah? Ana-wannabe, maybe.”

“What?”

“Come on. I’ve got eyes. I knew anorexic girls at college. Guys too. They were like you, except they were proud of it. The Little Ana
Club. But you, you try to hide it, but you’re not that good. And you like food too much to really be anorexic.”

Amazing. Did Renee sit in her room at night and make a mental list of the most hurtful words she could say? Stacey liked food too much … which was why she was
fat
.

“Yeah? Maybe I should show you.” With one glance at the house to make sure Daddy wasn’t standing at the patio door spying on her, Stacey stood up and marched to the weedy field beyond the edge of their property. She carefully broke apart each piece of bread and tossed the bits into the field, spreading them far and wide so they wouldn’t be easily noticed. The birds would take care of them. Broken potato chips followed. What was left on her plate looked like a picked-over meal, most of it gone.

She tried to look smug as she walked past Renee, but the girl laughed at her. “Really, Stace? You think Dad’s not going to figure out what you just did? Give it up and come clean. Seriously, what you’re doing isn’t healthy, and you know it. Just accept who you really are. You’ll be happier that way.”

Stacey stopped and glared at her sister. The ugliest words she could think of bounced around inside her head, so tempting she could almost feel them on her lips. Finally she just shook her head. “You’re not worth it.”

She took the plate inside and left it on the kitchen counter for her parents’ inspection.

Renee had raised one good point, though. How could she possibly keep this up? It was easier before to pick and choose what she ate when she said she was on a diet. Her parents allowed her to do that. And they trusted her enough that they didn’t notice her deceptions. Now she couldn’t count on being able to fling bad food into a field or even purge it after being forced to eat it. Mom’s cooking would have her back to a size thirteen in no time.

She wandered into the living room. Her father wasn’t there,
but Mom sat in her favorite chair and lifted her feet onto the ottoman. Her manicured toes wiggled as she leveled the remote at the television.

“I’m going upstairs to check my emails.” Stacey pointed to the stairs.

“Wait a minute, sweetie. Come sit down.”

Stacey groaned and perched on the edge of the sofa.

“You know, I understand what you’re going through. How many times have I been on one diet or another? It’s hard.”

Yeah, you lost weight and gained it right back. And then some
.

“At some point you just have to accept that you are who you are. I mean, I know we can do better with the way we eat. All of us. Maybe we should find a meal plan that’s healthy, stop eating so many fatty snacks. You don’t need to be rail thin, Stacey. You just need to be healthy.”

What, did you and Renee read the same memo or something?

“What is it, Stacey? Why are you so unhappy with the way you look? Are kids teasing you at school again?”

“No, Mom.”

“Kids can be so cruel. It makes them feel better about themselves if they can pick on someone they see as weaker.”

I
so
don’t want to hear this lecture again
.

“You’re a beautiful young lady,” Mom said. “Don’t let anyone tell you any differently.”

“No one is picking on me, Mom.”

“No? Then why do you eat so little? I’m so worried about you, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I promise I’ll do better and eat more. Can I go check my emails now? Please?”
Before Daddy confiscates my computer?

“Sure. Come back down when you’re done and watch a movie with me? Let’s spend some time together.”

“Okay. Give me a few minutes.”

Mom smiled sweetly, yet a little tear glimmered in the corner of one of her eyes. Stacey’s breath caught in her throat for an instant. How scared Mom must have been when that phone call from the park rangers came last night. Did she really think that Stacey was going to leave her? Really run away?

“Umm. I can do that stuff later,” Stacey said. “Scoot over.”

The oversized chair allowed both of them to snuggle together. While Mom flipped channels looking for a movie, Stacey leaned into her side. Soft, warm, yielding. Safe.

“Want some popcorn?” Mom said. “I can make some. Or not. We don’t have to have it.”

Hmm. The ally Stacey needed might be right there in the chair with her. Mom would be easy to manipulate.