“Don’t you let up,” said the far-too-cheerful voice over thespeaker system. “If you have to ease up on the pace, that’s okay, but don’t youstop. You’re in the home stretch.”
Spencer couldn’t look at her, this woman at the front of the room,pedaling as if she was totally relaxed and seeming to be barely winded.Meanwhile, Spencer was pedaling like a madwoman, was pretty sure her lungs wereabout to burst, and couldn’t remember the last time she’d sweated this much.The class was an eclectic mix of people. Men and women. Twentysomethings and aman who looked to be seventy. People in excellent shape and people not. Spencerhad chosen a bike in the back row, not wanting people to be able to see her ifshe did something silly. Like fall off. She also wanted to be able to slip outif necessary.
“And…ease up. Drop down a couple of gears. You did it.”
Spencer did as she was told, had never been so happy to doanything as she was to move that little black lever on the bike that had triedto kill her.
“Let’s cool it down,” the instructor said, and Spencer hated her ateeny bit less. But not much.
The cooldown was like heaven compared to the rest of the class.Nice, easy pedaling. She followed the instructions, lifted her arms over herhead, stretched, leaned to the left, then to the right, pedaling slowly andsteadily the whole time as Lady Gaga sang to them about her bad romance. Thenthey all slid off their bikes to stretch their legs. Spencer held tightly tothe handlebars of her bike, understanding that her legs giving out on her was adistinct possibility.
Once the stretching was done and theinstructor—Sherry?—congratulated them on a ride well done, the music turned offand the low buzz of conversation began. One by one, the riders filed out thedoor until only Sherry and Spencer were left. It had taken that long forSpencer’s breathing to dial back to normal levels. She grabbed the spray bottleon the windowsill next to her and pumped some of the cleaner onto her seat andhandlebars, then wiped with her towel.
“Was this your first class?” the instructor asked, and her closeproximity startled Spencer, who flinched and then recovered quickly.
“It was, yes.”
“What did you think?” Sherry’s smile was friendly, and up close,she looked less like an evil witch who was trying to kill Spencer and more likea regular person. Plus, it did look like she might have sweated alittle, which made herseem slightly more human and less like a robot. Slightly.
“Brutal,” Spencer said, with a chuckle. “I couldn’t keep thepace.”
“You stayed pedaling the entire time, though. That’s impressivefor your first class.”
“It is?”
Sherry nodded. “Absolutely. You stuck it out. Good for you. I hopeyou come back.” With that, she left the room and Spencer was alone.
Well, thatwas nice, she thought as she waited a minute or two before leavingso as not to seem like she was stalking Sherry. Her legs felt rubbery, but theymanaged to hold her upright as she slowly walked down the hall that led to thetrainers’ desks.
Rebecca was sitting at hers.
Spencer’s steps faltered.Whyis she here on a Saturday?was her first question, which was quicklyanswered by the realization that Rebecca might very well have clients onSaturdays as well as during the week. Rebecca hadn’t seen her yet, and now atall, lanky man approached from the opposite side as Spencer. He looked to bein his thirties and was pushing a metal wire cart filled with what looked to beused towels.
“Hey, Rebecca,” he said, with almost excessive glee. His glasseswere thick, and as he reached out and performed a complicated handshake withRebecca, Spencer immediately saw traces of Travis.
“Bobby, my man,” Rebecca said. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going great.” Bobby threw both arms up in the air likeRocky. “I’m gonna make this the best Saturday ever.”
“I have all the faith in you,” Rebecca said, and Spencer noted theway she actually looked at him, like she was paying attention and not justhumoring the intellectually disabled guy. She’d seen more than her share ofpeople treat Travis like a toddler, or worse, dismiss him altogether. Rebeccaseemed genuinely fond of this man.
“Make it the best day, okay?” Bobby said to her, as he leaned overthe cart and began pushing it toward Spencer. Rebecca followed him with hergaze, which landed on Spencer and stayed there. “Hi there,” Bobby said to heras he pushed his cart past. “You have a great Saturday, okay?”
“I’ll do my best,” Spencer said, smiling at him. She watched himas he pushed the cart in the direction she’d come from, then turned back to seeRebecca almost smiling at her.
“You’re here on a weekend,” she said.
“So are you,” Spencer countered.
“I have a client.”
“I went to spin class.”
Rebecca’s expression seemed to shift, to lighten a bit. “Yeah?Sherry’s? She’s tough. What did you think?”
“I think I died and you’re actually talking to my ghost. My bodyis still on the bike. Slumped over. Dead.” Spencer jerked a thumb over hershoulder.
Rebecca’s shoulders moved in gentle laughter. “I see.”
