Initially, when Daniel decided to spend the summer in Seattle while I stayed in Bellingham with my parents in order to save up money, we’d agreed that we wouldn’t go more than two weeks without seeing each other. But after he left and as June progressed, it became clear that the seminars he had enrolled in were more intense and demanding of his time than he’d thought they would be. He was also working full-time at a twenty-four-hour gym, so by the Fourth of July weekend, it had been almost an entire month filled only with daily texts, FaceTiming, and, when our schedules aligned, a longer call on Skype.
“Love you, baby,” Daniel said at the end of every one of our conversations. “Can’t wait until you’re here with me.”
“I love you, too,” I always replied, because it was true. I did love Daniel. I missed him. But that didn’t erase the fact that since talking with Tyler about my feelings over coffee the day Daniel left, I hadn’t been able to shake the nagging sensation that getting engaged might not have been the smartest choice. I didn’t know if I was really ready to make that kind of commitment. Before Daniel asked me to marry him, I’d been excited to move to Seattle, to embark together on the adventure of figuring out what we would do with our lives and who we’d eventually become as individuals. There was no pressure, just the limitless, open-road future stretched out in front of us. But now, the ring on my finger seemed to signify something so weighty, so final and constricting, the excitement I had felt shifted into something less thrilling and more uncertain. Something that filled me with doubt.
I did my best not to think about it, telling myself that everything would be fine once I made the move to Seattle and Daniel and I were together again. I kept busy, spending time with my parents and Tyler, focusing on my own job at a locally owned gym. I started work at six a.m., five days a week, and was there until two in the afternoon. It was a smaller establishment that prided itself on a family-friendly atmosphere and personalized fitness plans for the customers. They scheduled me to see at least five clients a day, and I was happy for the chance to show them what I could do.
The Friday morning before the holiday weekend, I began my day with a dark-haired, attractive, but pudgy bank manager, who informed me that he wanted to try to find his abs again after ten years of feeding them nothing but fast food and beer. The next hour, I met with a client who seemed more interested in watching the Today show while she walked on the treadmill than in listening to what I had to suggest about letting go of the handles and bumping up the incline on the machine so she might actually break a sweat.
“I want to have a body like yours,” she had said when I first introduced myself and inquired about her fitness goals. She was in her late forties, and was round on top with long, thin legs.
“Well,” I said, in a measured tone. My first job as a trainer was to get a client to set reasonable and realistic goals. “I tend to focus more on getting you healthy and strong rather than trying to help you reach a specific body type. We can get your body in the absolute best shape for you.”
“Huh.” She gave me a sour look. “I bet you’re one of those women who can eat and eat and never gain weight.”
I suppressed a sigh, suspecting that if I told her about my struggle with body image and how close I’d come to dying—if I said that learning to make sure I ate enough food every day was as much of a challenge as her learning to eat less—she wouldn’t believe me. I knew from my time in the hospital, and the years of struggle to find balance that followed, that unless this woman changed her mind-set, her body would stay exactly as it was.
Still, I encouraged her through a workout, and she told me she would be back for another session on Tuesday, so it was still possible for her attitude to shift in the right direction. I reminded myself that I didn’t get better overnight—it had been a process, a relearning of everything my calorie-deprived brain told me was true. That even ten years later, I still had to fight the voice inside my head telling me I was too fat, that I shouldn’t eat this or that or, on some days, anything at all. After she left, I took an hour to get in my own workout—being able to do so while I was still on the clock was a perk of the job. Now, at a little before ten, I stood behind the front desk, watching it for the receptionist while he took his morning break.
“Can I help you?” I asked an older woman who entered the doors of the gym, clad in a red velour tracksuit, looking a bit uncertain once she was inside.
The woman directed her bright blue eyes at me. “Yes, please,” she said. “I’m Doris Carter, and I have an appointment with Amber Bryant?” Her voice wavered a bit as she spoke, and I guessed from the crinkled state of her pale skin and slightly hunched shoulders that she was somewhere in her seventies.
“I’m Amber,” I said with a welcoming smile. “Is this your first time meeting with a personal trainer?”
She nodded. “My doctor said walking my dog isn’t enough. I need to lift weights to help support my bones.” She looked me over from head to toe. “How old are you, dear, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“And you know what you’re doing?”
“I do,” I said, continuing to smile. “I have a degree in nutrition and physiology, as well as a personal training certification. I’d be happy to show you my credentials.”
“Oh no,” she said, waving the suggestion away. “If Harold hired you, then I’m sure you’re wonderful.”
“How do you know Harold?” I asked as I grabbed the intake sheet I would need Doris to fill out before we started our session. Harold Richards was my boss, the owner of the gym, and a client of my father’s, which was how I’d secured the job.
“I was his high school English teacher,” Doris said. “He was a terrible nuisance in class, but it seems as though he’s finally made something of himself here.” She took the piece of paper I held out to her and looked it over. “ ‘Is there any possibility you might be pregnant?’ ” she read out loud, and then winked at me. “I doubt it, but I sure wish I had someone to practice with again.”
I laughed, immediately knowing I would like working with her. “You’re not married?”
“I was. For fifty-two wonderful years. My Steven passed away four years ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, wondering if my marriage to Daniel would last that long. If it would last at all.
“Thank you,” Doris said, as she continued to fill out the form in front of her. She glanced at my left hand. “You’re engaged?” I nodded, and my conflicting emotions must have shown on my face because Doris made a clucking sound and gave a little shake of her head. “Uh-oh. If there’s even a drop of doubt in your heart, honey, you should listen to it. That voice inside you is the wisest part of your soul.”
I nodded, pressing my lips together so my eyes wouldn’t tear up. So much for my job distracting me from the indecision I felt. “Maybe we should barter our services,” I said. “I help you to build up your strength and you can teach me about life.”
Doris smiled, a lovely motion that lit up her entire face, giving me a glimpse of the young woman she used to be. “Oh no, dear,” she said. “The only thing I’m qualified to teach is English. Everything we learn about life comes from the living of it, good and bad choices alike. And each of us needs to make our own. That’s just the way of it.” She signed the bottom of the form with a flourish, then set down her pen, looking at me expectantly.
Just then, Trevor, the receptionist, returned from his break. “All set?” I asked Doris, and she nodded, then followed me into the gym. I talked with her about the importance of stretching her muscles before any kind of exertion, and then led her through a series of gentle warm-ups, including a fifteen-minute walk on the treadmill.
“How did you and your young man meet?” she asked me as I stood next to her, monitoring her heart rate via the machine to make sure she wasn’t overdoing it. I told her the story, and then she spoke again. “Did you know he was going to propose?”
“No,” I said, recalling the afternoon in early June that Daniel and I went rock climbing in the same spot as we had on our first date.
“Can you grab my water for me, babe?” he asked when we reached the top of our first ascent. It was a beautiful, sunshine-filled day and we both were sweating. “My calf is totally cramping.” He set the heel of his right foot on a small rock and pointed his toes toward the sky, grabbing onto them with the tips of his fingers, stretching the muscle out.
“Sure,” I said. I leaned over, unzipped the backpack he’d just set on the ground, and pulled out the silver metal bottle he always carried with him when he worked out. But when I turned to hand it to him, he had stopped stretching and was down on one knee, holding a black velvet jewelry box in his hand.
“Oh my god,” I said, slapping a hand over my mouth. “What are you doing?” Of course, I knew what he was doing, but the words were the only ones my shock-addled mind allowed me to speak.
“What I’ve wanted to for a long time now,” he said. He opened the box, revealing a small but glittering round solitaire set upon a slender silver band. “I love you, Amber. I want to be with you, always. Will you marry me?”
A hundred thoughts raced through my mind as I stared at him. I loved him so much in that moment—the sweet simplicity of his proposal, the fact that he had chosen to ask me privately, just the two of us, out in nature doing something we both loved, as opposed to in a fancy restaurant in front of a bunch of strangers. He knew me well enough to understand I would have despised something like that. But along with the love I felt came a sharp spike of confusion. We’d been together less than a year. Was that enough time to really know each other, down to our cores? Oddly enough, I thought about Tyler, that even with the few bumps in the road we’d experienced, how our friendship had lasted longer than I’d been with Daniel. Was I being fair to myself, committing myself to only one person when I was still so young? My parents had done it, but they had dated for three years before they got engaged. I knew the longevity of their relationship was a rarity—that more than half of marriages that began in a couple’s early twenties ended in divorce. There was no way to know if Daniel and I would withstand the odds.
“What do you say, babe?” he asked when I didn’t answer right away. “There’s no one on earth I’d want to build a life with but you.”
The sincerity of his words melted away my hesitation. I threw my arms around his neck, and, in the process, almost toppled us both over onto the dirt. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He kissed me, and then slipped the ring on my finger. “It was my abuela’s,” he said. “I promise I’ll buy you something bigger and better when I’m a doctor.”
I shook my head. “No way,” I said. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I love you so much.”
“He sounds wonderful,” Doris said now, as I finished telling her the story. Her blue eyes stayed intent on me. “But you’re still not sure.”
“Is it possible to be totally sure of anything? Or anyone?” I asked, more of myself than of her.
Before she could answer, I heard my name called out from across the gym floor, and then turned to see Tyler striding toward us. “Hey,” he said, as he approached. He was in uniform; he must have just gotten off an overnight shift. We’d been spending a lot of time together since Daniel left, grabbing dinner or a coffee a few nights a week, after I got off work at the gym and before he had to be at the station. We watched movies at his place or with my parents at mine, laughing and talking like we had back in high school, before he’d taken me to prom. Being around him again made me feel comfortable. It made me feel like I was one hundred percent, totally myself.
“Hey, you,” I said. “Everything okay?”
“Oh yeah. Sorry to bug you when you’re working, but I was nearby.”
“No worries,” I said. “Doris, this is Tyler. Tyler, this is Doris.” I glanced at the time remaining on her treadmill; I’d programmed it for fifteen minutes, and she still had three to go. I reached over and pushed the down arrow to slow her pace in order to return her heart rate to normal.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Tyler said, giving Doris a charming smile. Not for the first time since I’d been home, I found myself thinking how attractive Tyler was, how much more at ease in his skin he seemed to have become. I wondered if the younger girl he’d been seeing, Whitney, had had something to do with this, and was surprised to feel a barb of jealousy.
“You must be the fiancé,” Doris said. “Aren’t you a handsome devil?”
A shadow briefly clouded Tyler’s face, even as he kept smiling. “Just a friend,” he said.
“My best friend, actually,” I said. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And please don’t tell him he’s handsome. It’ll go straight to his already giant head.” I grinned, and Tyler laughed, reaching over to give my ponytail a light tug, a motion that sent a surprising, pleasurable shiver across my skin.
“I see,” Doris said, her eyes darting back and forth between us. She looked at me. “Is it okay if I stop now, honey? I need to use the restroom.”
“Of course,” I said, hitting the red button that stopped the treadmill belt. Doris’s cheeks were pink as she turned to take a step off of the machine, and as she grabbed on to one of the handlebars for support, Tyler stepped closer and offered her his hand.
“Thank you, sir,” she said as she let him assist her onto the floor. She patted her short, silver hair and straightened her stance. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said, as she walked toward the ladies’ locker room.
“She’s a sweetheart,” Tyler said. “Have you been working with her long?”
“Just started today,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “So, what’s up?”
“Well, you know Mason has been all over me about meeting you, which really means Gia has been all over him.”
“Ha,” I said. “Yep.” I hadn’t been introduced to Tyler’s partner and his wife yet, because their daughter, Sofia, had been struggling with an ear infection that wouldn’t clear up, despite two rounds of antibiotics. Neither parent was getting much sleep, so socializing was pretty much their last priority. “Is the baby any better?”
Tyler nodded. “She is. Enough that they’re going to get a sitter for her on Sunday night, for the Fourth. I guess one of their friends is having a party at his parents’ place out in the county. I thought maybe, if you want to go, you could meet them there.” He paused. “Unless Daniel is coming up and you’d spending the holiday with him.”
“Nope,” I said. “He has to work. So it’s a date.”
“A date, huh?” Tyler said, raising his eyebrows. His green eyes twinkled and we held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than we normally would. I had a sudden giddy feeling in my gut. What the heck is that about? I wondered. Am I flirting with him? Is he flirting with me?
Doris reemerged from the locker room and made her way toward us. “I’ll pick you up Sunday at six?” Tyler said, before she arrived.
So I did the only thing I could manage—I nodded, let him hug me, and then watched him walk away.
