Chapter 7
SEVEN
The Jazzercise class was held in a bright, mirrored room filled with energetic music and even more energetic participants. Frankie lingered near the back while Rochelle and Wren greeted their classmates like old friends. Then they came back and stood on either side of Frankie as the rest of the class got into lines and faced the instructor in front.
“First class?” Rochelle asked Frankie.
Frankie nodded. “Yeah, but it looks like fun.”
Wren leaned in. “Oh, it is. Especially when you screw up as much as I do.”
Frankie chuckled. “Good to know. I’m pretty sure I’ll spend the whole time tripping over my own feet.”
“Then you’ll fit right in,” Wren said, her eyes sparkling.
“If you don’t want to do a move, just jog in place to keep your heartrate up. Trust us,” Rochelle added with a laugh. “That’s half the class.”
The instructor, a bubbly woman with seemingly boundless energy, called the class to order, and the music kicked up a notch. The movements were fast-paced, but not overly complicated, and Frankie quickly found herself caught up in the rhythm.
True to their word, Rochelle and Wren came close to knocking her over a couple of times, and she darn-near returned the favor. The instructor was going way too fast for a beginners’ class. Frankie found herself jogging in place more than once, just to catch her breath. And true to what Wren and Rochelle told her, most of the class ended up jogging, too. By the time the cooldown began, Frankie was sweaty but exhilarated.
I did it! I got through the entire class without stopping .
“You did great,” Wren said, handing her a towel.
Frankie wiped her face, shaking her head. “You sure? I feel like when I wasn’t jogging in place I flailed through the rest of it.”
“Just like we did,” Rochelle said, grinning.
Wren rolled her eyes. “Flailed, jazzed—it’s all the same.”
Frankie laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had for months. She enjoyed their company much more than she’d expected.
She also expected them to tell her it was nice meeting her, then walk out together. But as the class filtered out, Wren and Rochelle lingered, clearly waiting for her as she caught her breath.
“Coming back next class?” Rochelle asked.
“Yeah, definitely,” Frankie said as she ran her hand through her short, dark hair, hoping it didn’t look too crazy. She’d always kept her hair long—easier to maintain and just throw into a ponytail when she needed it out of the way. It was still growing back in, but now it had a funky curl to it that had a mind of its own. The rosemary oil she used that was supposed to make it grow back in faster unfortunately didn’t act like a styling product.
“You look great,” Wren said, as if reading her mind. “Very cute style.”
Frankie almost told her what a pain it was, but smiled and thanked her instead.
“Are you heading home now, or maybe back to work?” Rochelle asked .
“Not yet. I work from home, so I got up early and finished everything so that I could spend a couple hours here. I was hoping to hit the weight room and the machines. I need some toning.”
“Us, too,” Wren said, glancing at Rochelle, who raised her eyebrows but then smiled quickly. “We can spot each other.”
“Sounds good,” Frankie said. As they walked down the hall to the weight room, she wondered again about the looks they kept giving each other. “But do you guys need to be anywhere? Am I keeping you from anything?”
“No, not at all,” Rochelle said as opened the weight room door for the others. Frankie picked up a set of hand weights and sat on a bench while Wren used a leg curl machine beside her. “I’m a translator and Wren is a photographer.” Rochelle added as she grabbed the handles on a cable machine beside Wren to work her arms. “We kind of set our own hours, too.”
“So, what do you do from home?” Wren asked Frankie. The room wasn’t too crowded and the music was muted, making it easier to talk.
“I’m a grant writer at the moment.”
“At the moment?”
She nodded as she curled her arm, the hand weight reminding her biceps that they needed some serious work. Thankfully, her fingers didn’t feel numb or tingly like they sometimes did post-chemo. “I’m not up to wwoofing quite yet.”
“Wolfing?” Wren tilted her head and gave Frankie a playful smile. “You’re a werewolf?” she teased.
Frankie laughed. “Not wolfing, wwoofing, like what a dog does, but with two w’s. It stands for World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms. W-W-O-O-F.”
Rochelle nodded vigorously through Frankie’s explanation. “My sister and I wwoofed with our parents for a few weeks when we were kids,” she said. “I loved it, but they thought working in an orchard wasn’t worth the room and board.”
“Where were you?”
“Greece. It was beautiful. ”
Frankie smiled and sighed. “No wonder you loved it. Greece is on my wwoofing bucket list, along with a ton of other places.” She did another biceps curl. “I grew up on a ranch in Montana. Loved it.” She shook her head, not wanting to get into her past. “So far, I’ve only been on farms in the U.S. I’m kinda stuck here for now, so I’m writing grant proposals for the organization until I can get back out there. In the meantime, I’m doing everything I can to get back into shape.” She paused. “Both physically and mentally.”
Wren nodded slowly. “How’s Adventure Buddies going?”
Frankie blinked, caught off guard. “It’s...fine, I guess. We only had our first adventure last Saturday.”
“Gabe told me about that,” Rochelle said. “Steph told him you and Waylon dodged a couple of moose.”
Frankie laughed. “Yeah, almost literally. It made the day interesting, that’s for sure.”
“What’s your next adventure?” Rochelle asked.
“No idea. Stephanie’s keeping it under wraps.” Frankie grimaced, remembering that she needed to bring a swimsuit.
Rochelle let go of the cables and frowned. “Are you okay? Was the moose too much adventure?”
“No, not at all.” Frankie set the weights down on the bench beside her. “Actually, I’m hoping Stephanie ups the ante. I want to challenge myself. There are so many things I want to do, besides wwoofing.”
“Like what?” Wren asked. She lifted her hair to wipe the back of her neck.
“Oh, I have a list. Go do crazy things in Vegas, see the puffins and the northern lights in Iceland.” She hesitated, wondering if she could tell them what else she wanted to see there, and decided not to. “Swim with mantas?—”
“Mantas?” Wren grinned.
“Yeah, in Hawaii.” She laughed, even as a bittersweet pang hit her heart. “And while I’m there, I need to go hang gliding naked in the moonlight just to see if I can get away with it. ”
Wren practically sprang off the leg machine. “Oh my God, take me with you! Wait, you’ve gotta take my friend, Barbie, too. She would die. No, she would kill me if I went without her.”
Rochelle covered her mouth, laughing. “You guys hang gliding naked would be hilarious.”
“Yeah, absolutely you could come with me,” Frankie said, delighted.
“Oh, while we’re at it, we should all go to Frozen Dead Guy Days,” Rochelle said, her eyes wide.
Frankie cocked her head. “Wait, what? Frozen Dead Guy Days?” Wren looked just as confused.
“Yeah! Gabe was telling me about it. It’s this crazy weekend in March where they honor this old guy named Grandpa Bredo who had himself cryogenically frozen in Norway, then his family brought him here and he ended up in a Tuff Shed up in Nederland.”
Frankie’s jaw dropped. “You are shitting me right now.”
“Nope! It’s a thing,” Rochelle said. “It used to be up in Nederland?—”
“Because they’re nuts up there,” Wren interjected.
“—then they moved both Grandpa and the festival to The Stanley Hotel in Estes Park. But the important thing is, they still do the team coffin races.”
“Coffin races? Are you serious?” Wren said. At the same time Frankie said, “Oh! We could put a team together!” Her eyes went wide. “I mean, that’s kind of presumptuous of me?—”
“No, that’s perfect!” Rochelle said while Wren shouted, “Yes!”
Frankie grinned ear to ear. I have new friends! “Okay, we are doing this. It’s in March?”
“Yup!” Rochelle said. “And we have to bring the guys along for the Blue Ball.”
Wren snorted.
“It’s a dance at the Stanley Hotel, where everyone dresses up like a frozen zombie,” Rochelle said. She looked at Frankie. “I would love to see how Waylon would dress. You guys could coordinate. ”
Frankie opened and closed her mouth. The idea of dancing with Waylon sent her into a sudden panic. “I…don’t think that’s going to happen.”
As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she watched Wren and Rochelle look her up and down as their enthusiasm faded.
They think I said that because I’m not going to live that long .
“No, it’s not… I mean, I want to travel the world so maybe I won’t be here. I want to see everything, do everything. Life is so short.”
She paused, as a bittersweet sadness filled her heart. “Not everyone gets a second chance. I don’t want to waste mine.”
Wren sat down on the bench beside Frankie. “Cancer?” she asked quietly.
Frankie nodded. Of course they knew. “My hair—or the lack of it—gave it away, didn’t it?” she joked.
Wren shrugged. “Well, that and Waylon might have said something to Elias.”
“Waylon was talking about me?” Frankie felt her face grow warm and the back of her neck prickle. She told herself the heat rushing to her face was from anger.
“Elias and Waylon are best friends. They talk about everything.” Wren covered her heart with her right hand. “It wasn’t anything bad, I promise.”
Frankie scoffed. “It probably wasn’t anything good, either.” She could only imagine Waylon rolling his eyes as he talked about her freakout with the splinter.
“Eh.” Wren smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. It sounded like he was impressed.”
Frankie reared back. “He was…what now?”
Wren laughed. “Impressed by the way you handled the moose. He said anyone else would have freaked out and probably gotten you both trampled.”
“Oh.” She felt her face grow even warmer and imagined it was bright red.
“What were you expecting he’d say?” Rochelle asked .
“That I’m a total wimp.” She shook her head.
Rochelle laughed. “Wimps don’t face down a couple of moose.”
“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” Frankie grinned. “But I did love the way it got my heart going. I used to be such an adrenaline junkie. It was fun to feel that again.”
Wren bumped her shoulder against Frankie’s. “Waylon’s the biggest adrenaline junkie I know. Steph knew what she was doing when she paired you guys up.”
If only that were true.
Still, Frankie couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. She felt a flicker of disbelief that Waylon had been impressed by her handling of the moose situation.
The weight room door opened, and Frankie heard two men laughing. She turned just as Elias strode in.
Followed by Waylon.