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nineteen
If it hadn’t been for the light breeze that played across the grass, Tabitha would’ve sweated out her tank top before the workout even started. At 0830 it was already eighty-five degrees with 80 percent humidity and that breeze felt like a gift from God, lifting stray hairs from her neck and drying some of the perspiration. As she looked around at her gym mates who littered the grounds of Canine Warriors, Tabitha knew they were thinking the exact same thing. Delaney had her head tilted back, arms open, like she could hug the unexpected wind. Trinity, a few feet away, had settled into the grass and panted gently, but she and Humphrey and about a dozen other dogs had it easy today: they were all in the shade and weren’t about to work out for an hour in the dirt and blazing sun.
Rhett was in the middle of the field with Pete, who introduced himself and welcomed everyone, thanked them for coming, and for paying the fees to work out, which were all donations to Canine Warriors. Rhett took over after that, his voice much bigger than Pete’s, stretching across the main dog run where everyone had gathered as he explained how today’s “battle of the boxes” would work. When Tabitha had signed up last week she’d had no idea that it wasn’t just Semper Fit taking part in this fundraiser, that half a dozen gyms would be there, and that the event would be a friendly competition. If she had, she probably wouldn’t have come. Already she could feel everybody’s ambitious moods in the air. “At least we’re outside, right?” she said to Trinity, who’d settled next to Humphrey and seemed to feed off the energy, filling with happiness at all the voices, the human and dog bodies, and her return to Canine Warriors, where she’d become who she was today.
“Not only are we battling gym against gym, we’re also going to be battling within our gyms, by pairing off and making this a partner event,” Rhett announced, a big grin on his face like he relished dropping bombs on people when they were least expecting it.
Tabitha felt her throat tighten up as the crowd’s energy went up another notch. She almost fled. The only thing that kept her in place was the memory of Auntie El, who had run around the kitchen all morning in a bright yellow sundress. The cheerful color had looked like sunshine against her dark brown skin, the brightly jeweled pies in each hand almost enough enticement to get Tabitha to do as Auntie wanted and go to church with her instead of to the fundraiser.
“You paid the money,” Auntie said. “Or, I did. So they have what they need for the dogs. They could care less if you actually show up or not. Come to church with me instead. The reverend will be so pleased.”
“Theycouldn’tcare less,” Tabitha had corrected under her breath, against her better judgment, but her nerves were worn on Auntie trying to get her back into Sunday services. In fact, the mention of church had darkened her mood to the point where her need to work out, an itchy, edgy trigger that threatened to explode inside her brain, had increased tenfold.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, Auntie El. I just said I have to show up today. I made a commitment.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Auntie El didn’t like her choice but couldn’t argue. She’d raised Tabitha all her life that if you made a promise, you kept it.
No, Tabitha couldn’t flee, she couldn’t be sitting at home when Auntie El got back from church, especially since Trinity looked like she was enjoying herself. The poor creature never got a day off, was always working so hard.
“Form two lines,” Rhett was saying, “and start counting off.”
Tabitha wasn’t sure what was going on, and when Rhett got to her and pointed, she parted her lips and didn’t know what to say. “Seven,” Rhett said. “You’re seven.”
“Seven,” Tabitha agreed.
When Rhett was finished he told everyone to go find their partners—whoever had the same number from the opposite line. Delaney was a six, because she’d been standing right next to Tabitha. Clementine wasn’t there, as she had to work, though she’d made a donation to the rescue. The only other people Tabitha knew were Constance, who was already paired up with Duke, and Detective Callahan, who wasn’t present today, either.
“Lucky number seven!” a boisterous voice shouted.
Tabitha flinched. She turned around and saw Hobbs, standing a few feet away, hands on his hips while he scanned the group. He wore a pair of aviator sunglasses, a rescue dog T-shirt and bright pink shorts. “Lucky number seven!” he shouted again. “Come get some!”
“I’m seven,” Tabitha said, uncertain if Hobbs would even hear her. She was kind of hoping he didn’t, that way she could approach Martha, a lady in her seventies, to see if she could swap numbers. Martha was wearing some kind of shiny pink number reminiscent of an ’80s infomercial for a thigh-toning gadget.
Hobbs’s grin softened beneath his mirrored shades. “Of course you are.”
“We can find someone to switch with,” Tabitha said. “If you want to work out with someone more your speed.”
“You’re exactly my speed.”
“I don’t want to hold you back.”
“No switching,” Rhett shouted, even though he was a couple yards away and couldn’t possibly have heard them. “Part of this effort is everyone’s ability to adapt and overcome. Maybe you have a partner you’ve never met. Maybe you have a partner with a vastly different fitness level. Maybe you have a partner you don’t get along with. I don’t care. Get together. Create a strategy that plays to your individual strengths. Make it work.”
“Come on, Tabby.” Hobbs nodded toward an empty patch of ground. “Let’s get our equipment together and figure out our strategy.”
Tabitha was fully on board with figuring out a strategy that played to their strengths. Problem was, whereas Hobbs had a lot of strengths, she didn’t really have any. The workout, once unveiled, revealed med ball tosses, dumbbell snatches, med ball partner sit-ups, synchronized burpees, double unders and partner carries.
Partner carries? Tabitha’s palms grew sweaty, and it wasn’t because of the heat.
She didn’t have much time to worry about it, as Rhett had already called everyone in to demonstrate all the movements. As he went through each one, Tabitha’s tension eased a little. They were going to be jumping rope, and out of everything in the gym, that was her jam. Growing up, jump rope had been a favorite pastime, was often all she and her girlfriends had to do on a hot summer day outside, nothing but them and the pavement and the alternative of getting into trouble. Double Dutch was the best because it required three people, two ropes, rhythm and street rhymes. When it came to jumping rope, Tabitha’s youth came in handy and she often found herself singing in her head.Cinderella, dressed in yella...
“And that brings us to partner carries,” Rhett was saying. “Hobbs.” He pointed at the spot in front of him, where Zoe had just finished demonstrating double unders. “Grab your partner and bring it in.”
Tabitha’s heart thudded in her chest as she followed Hobbs to the patch of grass in front of Rhett. He regarded the two of them for a second too long, then loosed what could’ve been considered a sneaky smirk, gone too fast to tell. “I don’t care how you carry your partner today,” Rhett said. “But I’ll show you the easiest ways. First, a simple piggyback.”
Hobbs bent his knees a little and stuck his arms behind him. “Jump on,” he said.
