Page 19 of Stepping Up to the Plate

“Don’t be nervous, I’ll take care of you,” she responds with a sly grin. “Follow along and you’ll be fine. After I show the class the exercise once, I call out modifications to make it easier or harder for people of varying skill levels.”

“Oh thank God. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up,” I sigh in relief. “I am ready to get my workout on.”

“I got you,” she says with a nod and walks away. I berate myself for saying ‘get my workout on.’ Really Lola? How lame can you be?

A few minutes later, the studio dims and colorful LED lights illuminate. The music turns up and Charlie steps on to her trampoline. “Alright ladies and gents, let’s get our workout on. Remember: if you’re not shaking, you’re not shaping!” I pretend not to notice the wink she sends my way after repeating my phrase.

Shaking is the absolutely right word for what happened to me. Holy crap was that a hard workout. After the warm up, I pretty much did all the easier modifications and I still fear I may never walk again.

Grabbing my bag, I turn around to see Charlie. “How was it?” she asks.

“It was fun,” I respond.

“And…” she prompts.

“And hard. I don’t think I’ve ever worked out that hard in my life. My legs may be Jell-O now.”

“But you’re feeling good? Got that endorphin high?” When I nod she tentatively asks, “think you’ll come back?”

“For sure! As soon as I can walk without crumpling to the floor, I wanna do this again. I’ve never enjoyed a workout this much.”

“Glad to hear it. I always aim to leave the ladies with weak knees and wanting another round,” Charlie laughs. “Listen, this was my last class of the day and I was going to grab coffee next door. Would you want to join me? I’d love to learn more about your journey of self-discovery.”

“Do they have fun flavors?”

“I know they have lavender,” she answers.

“Perfect! Fun coffee flavors are one of my favorite discoveries.”

She smiles at me indulgently. “Alright then, let’s go see what they have!”

* * *

The high from the trampoline workout, lavender latte, and making a new friend vanished by the time I got back to the apartment and I checked my email. Phil may not be bugging me anymore, but he and his attorney are bugging mine plenty.

I thought our divorce could be straightforward. We don’t have any kids and our only major asset is the house. Apparently, taking what we came in with and splitting the house isn’t enough for Phil, though. He wants to review everything of value, from our cars to our 401k accounts to the jewelry my Nonna left me, to ensure we ‘equitably divide our assets.’ I don’t know why I thought he’d make this easy.

The most frustrating thing is that he is insisting on a gag order where neither of us can talk about the divorce until it’s finalized. I don’t know if he’s doing it because he doesn’t want me sharing what I walked in on or if he’s seen my blog and wants to punish me. My audience isn’t huge, but I hit 5,000 followers last week and I don’t want to stop the momentum to appease his ego. I’ve spent enough of my life putting the wants of others before my own. My lawyer declined the gag order thank goodness.

I finish firing off a response when Tiffany stumbles out of her room.

“Good morning,” she mumbles.

“You mean good afternoon?” I joke. “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine? It’s 1 p.m. Please tell me you aren’t just now waking up.”

“No, I was taking a power nap so I could rally for tonight.”

“Tonight?” I question.

“Carina’s bachelorette party? Tell me you didn’t forget, Lola. You planned the damn thing!”

“Of course, I didn’t forget.” She eyes me skeptically. “I mean I did momentarily, but I am ready for tonight. I still don’t think we can call it a bachelorette party when we’re doing it with Robby and his friends, too. Plus, Kent did more planning than I did. That guy is oddly pumped for a party where there will absolutely, one hundred percent not be strippers.”

“Maybe if we’re lucky, we can get some of the guys to put their uniforms on and give us a show.”

“You’re incorrigible,” I roll my eyes.

“What? Everyone knows baseball pants are hot. I don’t make the rules, Bunny. I simply enjoy the bubble butts and bulges.”

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