things I always tell the mamas: If they don’t want what the good Lord blessed them with, there are hundreds of nice families who’d gladly take the baby off their hands. They should quit their eternal griping and thank Jesus they have a healthy baby.”
Cindy nodded solemnly, thinking that Bellson would have been a great Puritan. She could picture the woman in a Pilgrim’s hat, her reedy body covered by a black dress with a starched white apron, fingers kneading stiff bread dough in a one-room shack heated by a black iron cauldron. Pilgrim Bellson would be an attentive mother—caring—but she’d never crack a smile. The Pilgrim glanced at her watch—the timepiece an anachronism that brought Cindy back to the present.
“I’m running late,” Bellson said.
“My fault, I’m sorry,” Cindy said. “I’ll wait in the nursery and won’t go past the yellow line.”
“Good.” Bellson played with her ring again. “It’s nice what you’re doing for your sister. As long as you remember you’re not the infant’s mother. I hope your stepmother takes your place soon.”
“I hope so, too,” Cindy said. And she meant it.
The kick aroused her from a dull sleep. She opened her eyes and was staring at loin-clothed crotch. She couldn’t even tell who the crotch belonged to, because the wall of chest muscle hid the face. The voice told her to get the hell up. For a moment, she panicked. Her heart began to pound, awakening her out of her stupor.
The low one’s come back!
But then the voice was familiar in a positive way.
Mack.
The voice belonged to Mack.
She relaxed.
Back in control.
It was Mack.
Eric was better, but Mack was okay.
“Are you just going to lie around and gather dust like a rug? If you’re a rug, maybe I should take you out and beat you.”
The floor was cold and hard. His intimidation was working. She was feeling appropriately hostile. Lifting heavy weights required the rush, and nothing gave you the rush like hostility. “Shut up!”
“So are you ready to work or what?”
“I’m ready.”
He held out his hand. She took it, and he hoisted her to her feet. He threw a bundle at her.
“Put some clothes on.”
She nodded and dressed quickly.
“How much time do you have?” Mack asked.
“Two hours.”
“Two hours? Tandy, we can’t do anything in two hours.”
“Well, that’s all the time I have, Mack. Take it or leave it. Help me with my weight belt.”
“You should get a better-quality belt.” Mack slipped the leather straps through the metal loops and pulled tightly, enjoying the sound of her curses. “After two years of pumping, you’re no virgin, you know. You want to make progress, you need the right gear.”
“I’m a little tight on cash at the moment.”
“Hey, are you serious about building or what?”
“Of course I’m serious.”
“Then find the cash, Tandy. If you’re gonna do, do it right.”
“It’s too tight, Mack!”
Again Mack pulled on the straps.
“There! Now it’s too tight.”
“You are such a sadist!”
“Fuck you! What’s this two hours crap? Are you committed, or are you playing games? We don’t have time for games.”
“I told you I’m committed.”
“That’s what you say, but that’s not how you act,” Mack snarled. “Two hours …”
“How about the pecs? We could do the pecs in two hours, Mack.”
“Yeah, we could probably do the pecs,” Mack said. “Be better if we had three hours.”
“I have to work. I’m pulling the graveyard shift.” She attempted a deep breath, but the belt was too tight. All she could do was exhale short little puffs. “I’m going to need something, Mack.”
“What? Like some B-six?”
“Something stronger.”
Mack paused. “It can be arranged.”
“You’re a doll—”
“Hey, I don’t want to ever hear that kind of shit before a session!”
“Okay, you’d be a doll if you weren’t such a dumb jerk!”
“Much better!”
Mack slammed her back into his granite-hard chest. He reached around her body and felt her breasts. “I hate to say this. But you’re coming along nicely.”
She felt herself smiling. “Thanks. Or shouldn’t I say that?”
“You shouldn’t say that. You should say, ‘Of course I’m coming along, asshole!’ You’ve got to learn to get your body to deliver the rush. Pumped up means more than just the physical body, you know.”
“I know.”
He felt her again. “Yeah, you’re doing well. Of course, there’s always room for improvement. Your pecs have good tone, but no bulk.”
“What are you talking about! My chest is getting bigger all the time, and not a drop of it is due to fat.”
“Not enough.” Mack shook his head. “I’m going to increase your weights. What are you at?”
“Twenty each arm free weights.”
“How many reps?”
“Twenty.”
“How ’bout we use twenty-five weights, but we’ll drop the reps to ten. Try to bulk you up.”
“Whatever you think.”
“Tandy, get mean!”
She turned around and smiled. Then she punched his stomach as hard as she could. Her entire hand went numb from the impact, but it did the job. Mack had sucked in air from the surprise
