balancing on her crutches and not falling on her face.
She savored every morsel, taking sublime pleasure in each mouthful. It was the first real meal she’d had in a week. But she knew what she’d have to do. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure if only for the moment, dropping her fork against the yellow-and-white-checkered plate.
It was times like this, late in the evening when she wished there was more to her life than the next day on the track. She had no real friends or family. Although she had teammates and they went out from time to time, she never felt like one of them, that she was really accepted. For the most part she kept to herself and was ultimately branded a diva. What a joke. If they only knew.
Kelly pushed up from the table and took her dish to the sink. She turned on the water and watched as it mixed with the remnants of sauce to gather in a stream of red and disappear down the drain. It was as if she were suddenly watching her life dissolve in front of her. All that she’d endured, all that she’d worked for could wash away like the sauce on her plate, disappearing into a black hole of no return—unless she fought back. All she had was her skills. She wouldn’t lose the only thing in life that she’d ever succeeded at—not without a fight.
The phone rang.
She ambled over to the wall phone. “Hello?”
“I know it’s late, but I wanted to check on you.”
“David.” Her insides warmed.
“Did you get your dinner?”
“Yes, I did. Thank you. How…did I get in my room?”
“I carried you. You were totally out of it and I didn’t want to wake you. And I certainly didn’t want you to fall off the couch.”
She laughed. “I didn’t hear a thing.”
“You need your rest. It’s one of the best remedies for any ailment. Do you need anything? I can drive back over if you do.”
As much as she wanted the company she declined. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Well, I’ll be there in the morning.”
“Don’t you have to be at practice?”
“Reggie can run the team through the drills. I don’t want you to be alone.”
She didn’t want to read more into what he said. He was only offering his help to an injured member of his team. He would do the same for any of them.
“I’ll call you when I get up.”
“Make sure that you do,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Good night, K.”
“Good night.”
Thoughtfully she hung up the phone. She’d known David since she was seventeen years old and he was standing at the finish line when she’d won her race at a high school track meet.
“You’re good, but I can make you better,” he’d said by way of introduction.
She bent in half to catch her breath and looked up at him. “Who are you?”
“Your future coach.” He grinned and her heart did a funny little dance in her chest.
“You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
“I am.”
She stood up and braced her hands on her hips. “How do you know I want a coach?”
“Because you want to be a winner.” He handed her a towel.
She stared at it for a moment before taking it and wiping her face. “Thank you.”
“So what do you say? If you want me to talk to your family, I will.”
“There’s no one to talk to. Thanks for the towel and the offer. But forget it.” She handed him back the towel, turned and jogged away before he could react.
But as Kelly soon discovered, David was as determined as he was handsome and that was saying something. David Livingston was tall and lean, his features angular but with the kind of even brown complexion that women slaved to maintain. His smile was as generous as his eyes and his deep laughter reminded her of winter nights sitting in front of a fireplace.
He showed up for every track meet. He was the loudest in the stands as she jetted to the finish lines. David became a fixture to a point where she looked for him in the stands, listened for his cheers among the crowd.
Finally one day after practice she walked up to him.
“Okay, I give up. What can you do for me?”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
They’d been a “team” ever since.
But not even David knew all her secrets.
Slowly she went into the bathroom, pulled up the toilet seat and stuck her finger as far down her throat as she could.
Chapter 7
“This wheelchair is a bit much, David,” Kelly said as he pushed her through the terminal of American Airlines.
“You may be fast as lightning on the track, my dear, but you need a little work with the crutches. I want to get to the hotel sometime today.”
“Very funny.”
They trailed behind a redcap who pushed a metal cart that was loaded with their baggage.
“There’s a car waiting for us out front. We’ll have you settled in no time.” David weaved in and out of the flow of human traffic mindful of his precious cargo.
As always JFK airport was bustling with activity. The press of people in myriad attire, speaking in every imaginable language, was an awesome experience. The airport was a microcosm of humanity. Voices from unseen sources called out a steam of flights to everywhere in the known world, periodically interspersed with warnings about unattended baggage and the consequences of taking packages from persons unknown to you. A montage of aromas stampeded through the food court reminiscent of raucous stadium revelers doing a victory dance. The occasional National Guard patrolled the walkways, a holdover from 9/11.
“At least they cut the cast down,” Kelly said as they made it toward the exit doors. “I never would have made it through this crowd to the flight with my leg sticking out a mile in front of me.”
“It’s progress. I told you that you would be back in no time. It’s only been four weeks and look how far you’ve come.”
“Although this space boot isn’t a fashion statement.”
David chuckled and pushed open the glass doors.
The first blush of New York City
