A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

Pam led her around the studio, introducing Zoe as, “My daughter’s friend and mine, too,” which made Zoe feel good. She did her best to focus on names and faces rather than trim thighs and killer abs. She would get there—eventually.

Nicole, the owner of the exercise studio, was an attractive blonde who couldn’t be thirty. Pam mentioned something about Nicole’s son and new husband. Talk about having it all, Zoe thought, determined to be inspired rather than depressed by so much success in one fit package.

The class started on time. By minute three, Zoe knew that she was going to die—right there on the wooden framed reformer. She would simply stop breathing or rip herself in two, by accident, of course.

Nicole offered her a kind smile. “It takes a little getting used to. Just do the best you can.”

Zoe nodded because she was too out of breath to speak.

It wasn’t that they were doing anything especially vigorous. Instead it was the slow and controlled movements that left her gasping. She was expected to hold positions for counts of ten, then lower slowly. Or stand on some stupid moving platform with straps whose only purpose seemed to be to kill her.

Fifty minutes later, she rolled off the reformer and onto the ground. Other people stood and maybe she would too, one day. But for now, she had to wait for her muscles to stop shaking.

Pam crouched next to her. “You okay?”

“No.”

Pam laughed. “I know it’s hard at first. Everything is confusing. You might want to try a few private lessons first, to get the basic movements down. The classes move at a pretty fast pace.”

“Uh-huh.” Wow—two syllables. Zoe was so proud.

She sat up, then pushed to her feet. Her thighs shook but she managed to stay standing.

Pam’s lips twitched.

“It’s okay,” Zoe said, still breathing hard. “You can mock me. I get it.”

“You’ll do better next time.” Pam put her arm around Zoe’s shoulders. “Do you have time for lunch? I’d love to get caught up.”

“Sure. That would be great.”

Pam plucked at her fitted black tank top. “We’re not exactly dressed for a restaurant. Let’s get takeout and go back to my place instead.”

“Perfect.”

As they collected their bags, a little dog popped her head out of Pam’s oversize tote.

“Lulu!” Zoe dropped to her knees, then winced as her leg muscles complained. Ignoring them, she held out her hands and the adorable hairless dog jumped into her embrace.

“Hey, you,” Zoe said, snuggling with the odd creature. Lulu was part canine, part fashionista, part alien and all rock star. Today she had on a white lightweight sweater with tiny purple buttons down her back.

Lulu gave her cheerful kisses, then settled in for a good cuddle.

“You bring her to class?” Zoe asked.

“I take her everywhere. She’s quiet and enjoys getting out. So what are you in the mood for, lunchwise?”

*

Pam’s condo was big and bright, with a view of the Pacific Ocean. The building style was modern, which could have clashed with Pam’s more traditional furniture, but the warm woods and comfortable fabrics blended nicely with the sharp edges and sleek design.

Pam lifted Lulu out of her tote before washing her hands and setting the small dining table by the patio door.

“It’s still a little cool to eat outside,” the other woman said. “We’ll do that next time.”

Zoe liked the sound of that—the promise of another meal together. She washed her hands, then helped by putting out napkins and taking the takeout cartons from Wok’s Up out of the bags.

“I have iced tea,” Pam said as she opened the refrigerator. “Diet soda, oh and that organic juice Jen likes Jack to have.”

“Iced tea is fine. Thanks.”

They sat across from each other. Lulu settled in her bed by the sofa.

“This is nice,” Pam told her as she reached for her carton of Honey-Spicy Shrimp. “I’m so glad you came to class today.” She wrinkled her nose. “You’re going to be sore. Drink a lot of water and take ibuprofen. It will help.”

“I promise.” No way Zoe was going to forget that. She wanted to be able to move in the morning. She glanced around at the condo. “This place is really nice. Do you like living here?”

“I do. It took me a bit to settle in. It was an adjustment for both of us.” She nodded at Lulu. “John and I lived in our house for over twenty years. But this is better. Manageable. I like being close to everything. Plus, now that I’m traveling more with my friends, it’s easier to leave a condo than a house.”

“I know Jen loves the house.”

After Pam’s husband had died, she’d moved into the condo and had given the large family home to Jen and Kirk. Zoe couldn’t remember all the details, but she was pretty sure that Pam had bought the condo from a girlfriend who’d gotten married and moved into her new husband’s place.

“She does,” Pam said. “I’m glad it stayed in the family.”

Zoe scooped chicken fried rice onto her plate. “The garden is so pretty. I’d like to do something like that at my place. Maybe a few raised beds. I’m not sure.”

“Jen mentioned you’d bought a house. Are you liking it?”

“I am. It’s different. I’m responsible for everything, which is strange after always being a renter. But it’s good.”

Except for the killer attic, she thought.

Pam looked at her. “How are things otherwise?”

A simple question. The expected response was to say things were just dandy. Perfect. Happy. Or, you know, fine. Which was what Zoe planned to say. What came out instead was, “Everything is a mess.”

Pam’s expression turned sympathetic. “Tell me.”

“I just... I don’t know. I’m so confused.” She put down her fork. “Chad and I broke up a couple of months ago. Or rather I broke up with him. I feel good about the decision. It was the right thing to do.”

“But?”

“But it’s hard. We were together nearly five years.” She had the wherewithal not to mention how it had started, or the problems they’d had, instead adding, “He’s divorced, with two kids. I suddenly realized I’d met them exactly twice. Twice! He kept telling me that they needed to adjust, but I started to think he was really waiting for them to grow up and be on their own.”