Chapter 13 #2
“Camden . . . My name is Camden.” I grab the paper he needs to fill out, pushing it toward him with a pen.
Something about him is unnerving. “This is the application. You need to fill out the questions, and I just need an ID and a card on file to charge the membership. It’s forty-five dollars a month, but classes are extra and vary.
You do get discounts, though, the more classes you take.
The membership gives you access to all the equipment and the ring downstairs. ”
“I don’t have ID, or a card. I have cash.”
Um . . . “I uh, need ID, and a card to charge the fee to.”
“I’ll pay in cash. I’ll even pay next month’s fee.”
“I uh, I can’t, I need—”
“Do you not take money here?” He smiles tightly. “I’ll even pay double to end this conversation sooner.”
Why is he so mean? “I still need an ID.”
“Why do I need an ID to use a gym? Do you run background checks?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then I don’t see why it’s important.” The ghost of an accent becomes a bit thicker the more irritated he gets, and he drags his fingers through his hair, looking around nervously.
“For safety, we need to know who our patrons are.” My hands start to tremor a bit. I hate confrontation and he’s being a bit difficult. “We need some sort of ID. Anything you have to confirm your identity.”
The man sighs, reaching into his pocket and handing me an American passport. “It’s all I got. I haven’t had a chance to get an ID yet.”
“No, this is perfect. Um . . .” I look down at it. “Aiden.” I smile at him. “This works.”
“Fantastic,” he deadpans grabbing a pen off my desk to fill out his paperwork. His eyes narrow on it. “Do I need a home address?”
“Uh . . .”
“And a phone number. Don’t have that either.”
Did this man appear out of thin air! “Um, well, we do need an emergency phone number down. Just in case something happens and we need to call someone.”
“Well, I have no one to call.” Aiden sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair again.
Pieces fall in front of his eyes before he slicks them back.
“I just moved. I’m figuring my shit out.
All I want to do is punch the shit out of a bag or a body a few times a week, okay?
Maybe use the treadmill sometimes. If something were to happen, I have no one who would give a shit. ”
“I’d care.” And I would. Safety is important.
Aiden scoffs. “Just put your number or some shit. I don’t care. I just want to work out.”
He slides the paper back to me. Guess I’ll figure it out. “Well, here.” I hand him a keycard. “This only works for one person. If more than one person goes through the door a sensor will set off an alarm and the police will be here in minutes.”
“Isn’t that a bit extreme?”
“Not if we want to keep people safe. What if someone follows them in at night?”
Aiden nods. “Right. Didn’t think of that.”
“You have access to equipment twenty-four seven, but the boxing ring is only open until nine. After nine, no one else is here. If there is an emergency, there are panic buttons in every room.” I look up as he listens.
“Payment is due the first of every month, and I—” Aiden puts money on the counter. “Um . . .”
“How long will last me, right? How long?”
I take a moment to count what he's given me. “About six months?”
“Fantastic. Anything else?”
“Um, there’s a sauna downstairs, but it’s only open from eleven to five. There’s also a locker room, and showers if you want one after you’re done working out. My name is Cam, um . . . if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks, Cam.” He swipes the keycard and walks away, then swivels back to me. “Um, one more thing . . .” I listen. “If anyone comes in here and asks for me, I’m not here. I’ve never been here, okay? You don’t know me. I do not exist to you.”
“Cryptic.”
“I mean it,” Aiden says, his hard eyes pinning me in place. “No one can know I’m here. If anyone is looking for me, you don’t know who they’re talking about.”
“I thought you said you don’t know anyone here?”
He thumps his palm on the desk with a soft smile. “Have a good day, Camden.”
Unnerved, I go do my rounds so I can leave for the day. My interaction with Aiden has left me feeling off. I’m not sure I did the right thing. He’s odd, but I’m not one to judge someone. Still, that was weird, right?
As I make my way through the gym I hear crying, and smile when I step into the room with the StairMaster.
I see Sara holding her wailing infant, trying to rock him.
Sweat is plastered to her auburn hair. She looks up from him to me with an apologetic smile.
“I’m so sorry, Cam.” A half-drunk bottle sits in the cup holder of the machine, and I see patrons glaring at her, which irritates me.
Babies have never bothered me, and I know Sara has a hard time at home. I don’t know her husband, but he works a lot of hours. I don’t think he helps out much either. Not that she’s said anything, it’s just what I’ve picked up. She’s stuck at home all the time, and this is a mom-friendly gym.
People can deal. “Can I take him? Just while you finish.”
She smiles at me, nodding. “You sure? I just have twenty more minutes.”
“Of course. I have time.” The wailing infant is put into my arms and almost instantly quiets as I rock him. “Does he need the rest of that bottle?”
“No, he should be okay. I brought it just in case he gets fussy.” She tickles the quieting baby’s stomach. “Look at you, you’re a natural. Be good for him, Zachary.” I turn with the him in my arms. "Oh! Those oreo bites by the way. To die for. Can I have the recipe?"
"Of course, I'll get it before you leave."
"You're an angel Cam."
“Going to make my rounds. I’ll be back, don’t worry.
Finish your workout.” Walking the most carefully I ever have in my entire life, I finish my rounds as his eyes start to close.
“Your mom is stressed, my dude. You need to chill so she can get her steps in.” He stretches in my arms, fussing for a moment before he settles, his eyes closing.
The burp rag is over my shoulder, and I have to remind myself to look where I’m walking and not at the adorable infant.
I loop around back to the front end and see Sam typing on the computer. She looks up, smiling at the baby in my arms. “Told you all that sleeping around would catch up to you.”
My hands are occupied, so flipping her off is out of the question. “Sara’s.”
“Oh, I know. I heard him wailing all the way from my office,” she laughs, though I know she doesn’t mind. I bring him over so she can look at him, and she coos, touching his belly. “You know what my favorite thing about babies is?”
“What?”
“That I don’t have any,” she says.
“You never wanted kids?”
“Hell no. Though a little Brendan junior might be cute. If I did have kids, adoption would definitely be the way I'd go.” She finishes typing. “What about you? Do you want any little Cams in your future.”
When I used to think about my future, it was pretty simple. I’d find the right woman, and if she wanted kids, I wouldn’t mind. It’s not something I need to have, though. We’d live in a cute little house. I’d have a gym. I’d support all their hobbies and we’d have a great life together.
Now? Now I don’t know. So I try. I try so hard to picture what I want for my future and how I want to spend the rest of my life. The problem is, when I stop to think about it, I see one thing. One thing only.
All I can see in my future . . . is Bo.