Page 72 of Perfect Mess

Ashley said, “I can’t believe it. Mary Burns, after all these years. What are you doing here?”

Momentarily dumbstruck, I pointed at my green runner’s bib. “Running?” I didn’t mean it as a question, but it squeaked out that way. “What are you doing here?” I asked. It was a minor miracle that the rats and mice in the area didn’t mistake my voice for a rodent mating call, and come swarming out of the trees.

Ashley thumbed toward her yellow T-shirt, stretched tight over her double D surgically enhanced, probably bionic, bosom. “Volunteering?” Ashley mimicked my cracked inflection and mouse like tone.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Ashley said, “You remember Bridget and Heather, right?” I hadn’t noticed at first, but two of her mini-skirted goons from back in her cheerleading days flanked Ashley.

Bridget, wearing a matching yellow VOLUNTEER shirt, smirked. “Good to see you again, Mary.”

Heather, also in yellow, asked, “How’s your leg?” She was referring to the leg that she, Ashley, and Heather had caused to break when they dropped me from the top of the cheerleading pyramid.

“All better. Good as new,” I squeaked, glancing toward the trees to see if any rats were stampeding.

“Glad to hear it,” said Heather.

“For sure,” said Bridget.

All I wanted to do at that moment was scamper away like a beaten dog, tail tucked between my legs. But both my body and my brain were paralyzed. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t move. It had been over twenty years since that night at prom, but I was still traumatized. I wished for a sinkhole to form under my feet and swallow me whole. Put me out of my misery for good.

The dictionary defines a miracle as an extraordinary event that defies the known laws of nature, attributed to divine intervention. For example, bringing the dead back to life. Oceans parting to create safe passage. Justin Bieber releasing a new single that doesn’t make you want to vomit. I never believed in miracles before. But I did after what happened next that morning. And it wasn’t some supernatural presence that created the miracle. It was Gary.

“Mary, there you are! I’ve been looking all over.” I felt his hand on my shoulder, gentle, but firm. “The race is going to start soon. We should go stretch.” I felt his hand slip down from my shoulder to take my hand. He pulled me away, just like Janet did all those years ago. I couldn’t believe what had happened. Gary saved me.

* * *

We kept walkingthrough the gathering crowd of runners and spectators, Gary leading me by the hand. He only let go once Ashley and her friends were well behind us.

“You have quite the grip.” He rubbed at his palm and flexed his fingers.

“Sorry.” I didn’t realize I was holding on to him so tight.

We found a spot with a bit of shade under a sprawling oak tree. Gary grabbed one foot and pulled it back behind him, stretching his quads. Stretching seemed like a good idea, so I followed his lead. Across the lawn, I spotted Ashley and her henchman slinking back over to the sponsor tent.

“You okay?” Gary asked.

I nodded. Even though I wasn’t okay. Not okay at all. “You remember Ashley Griffin? Jack Thompson’s girlfriend?”

“How could I forget?” The look on Gary’s face suggested he remembered her just about as fondly as I did. He bent over to touch his toes.

“Thanks for rescuing me.” When I bent over, I could barely reach my shins.

Gary nodded. “I was over at the registration table and saw them talking to you. You looked like you could use a friend.”

I needed more than just a friend at that point. When I woke up that morning, I was determined and focused. I knew the odds were against me, but I had faith that somehow, some way, I would distract Janet from Jack. But after one thirty-second encounter with Ashley, all my confidence had melted away like a sand castle hit by a tidal wave. I looked down at my hands. They were shaking.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Mercifully, Gary didn’t push.

I dug deep for my last tattered scrap of resolve, forced a smile. “I’m fine, really. Just looking forward to the race.”

“I guess you really do love running.” Gary pointed at my green bib. “At first, I thought you said you enjoyed running just to get under Karen’s skin.”

I had been so thrown off by my encounter with Ashley that I had forgotten all about the harsh reality that there was still a race to be run. “Where’s yours?”

Gary unzipped his warm-up jacket, revealing a purple bib underneath. “Kyle and I are doing the Fun Run together.”

“With Karen?”

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