10. Lisa
Lisa
It’s freaking cold.
I knew moving to Minnesota would include seasons I wasn’t prepared for, but I’d been pulled in by the allure of a white Christmas.
Now, experiencing October weather – which includes the first snow of the season – I understand why hot dishes are so prevalent.
Carbs and dairy swirled together in warm casserole pans?
That’s the light at the end of the long, bitterly cold tunnel they call winter.
I still will never understand how folks can stay so nice, though. The shorter days are already getting to me, and this weather certainly isn’t helping.
I tug my coat in tighter around me and try not to slip on the slush surrounding the entrance to Punchline, vowing to get boots with more traction the next time I go to the store. If I ate shit right now, Andi would bribe Bella into the gym’s video footage and hold it over my head forever.
The salt sprinkled on the path has reduced all of the previously pretty white snow to a disgusting brown sludge. I kick some out of the way with my high-tops and frown. It’s so pretty when it’s untouched, practically ethereal. But the second you mix it with something else, it’s tarnished.
Huh. Just like me.
“Hey, wait up!”
I turn to see Andi jogging down the path towards me, hair flying from underneath her beanie.
She pulls off the bundled look in the way only someone who was born here can, her clothing just worn in enough to look cozy as hell, but still cute as fuck.
Half of my winter clothes still have tags on them, and even though I check the weather every day, I still don’t know what temperature requires which item.
The snow that’s landing on top of my shoes is already melting into my socks, telling me I need to add waterproof to the requirements of my new snow boots.
Andi stops to join me at the top of the steps and grins. “I didn’t know you were coming to help today.”
“Help with what?” I ask, eyeing her curiously, and notice for the first time that she doesn’t have her gym bag with her. “Wait, are you not practicing today?”
Her expression turns into a puzzled frown, and she opens the door.
The second she does, the smell of fresh paint hits me.
“None of us are,” she answers. “Paul called to say that the painters he had scheduled for yesterday bailed. Apparently, they thought they were just supposed to deliver the paint, not…you know…paint.” She shrugs.
“He said he was spending the day doing the painting himself, and I said, fuck no, I’m coming to help. ”
“Oh. That’s shitty of them. But great of you!”
“Did he not call you?”
“He might have,” I hedge. “I’m not the best at answering phone calls.”
Understatement of the year. I should probably save his number, because if I don’t know the number, no force on earth can make me answer the phone. It’s going straight to voicemail.
Andi simply laughs. “Well, look, I’m the only one on the hook for a few hours of labor. Paul hasn’t seen you yet, so you can still escape.”
“Oh, no, I don’t mind.” I move around Andi to open the door further. “I’m no artist, but I’m happy to help.”
She eyes me dubiously. “Are you sure you don’t have somewhere else you’d rather be?”
“Nope. No shift at the bar tonight.” I smile, but it flickers a little. And without staying busy, I’ll go mad, I want to say, but don’t. “And Winny can last for a few more hours without me. He’s gone a full week now without shitting on the floor.”
“Really? Way to go, Winny! He’s learning to be big brave.”
Her genuine enthusiasm for my dog makes me laugh, and with that, we push our way out of the snow and into the gym.
“This looks wonderful, ladies,” Paul says approvingly, gathering the drop cloth into his arms. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“Not a problem. I’m glad we were able to wrangle an extra helper. Now I still have time left in my day to do something fun,” Andi says, and reaches out threateningly with the paint roller in her hand.
I jump back and laugh. “Seriously, I’m just happy to help.
This place has been here for me since my first week here.
” I look around at the bright reds and blacks, alternating color across the brick walls.
Though the faded look held its own kind of charm, the place now looks cheerful and proud, radiating an inviting energy. “And now it looks extra snazzy.”
“Well, let’s hope a fresh paint job and some social media posts do the trick.
Business has been slow, and it’ll keep slowing until the end of the year, at least. Don’t tell Bella, but we’re barely keeping our heads above water.
” Paul looks around, his face growing solemn.
“I can’t afford to do any more upgrades without more cash flow, but it’s hard to get memberships without having something to offer that sets us apart. Everything’s a streaming service now.”
He rubs the back of his neck, frowning, and my heart sinks at his hopeless expression.
He’s clearly been working hard at making his dream come true, and sometimes, the shit reality is it comes down to dumb luck.
You can grind your way forward for years, only to see someone else accidentally end up where you were aiming all along.
I thought I put in the work and landed a prize in my old life, but when I opened the treasure chest, it was completely empty. Now I’m figuring out how to fill that unexpected emptiness.
This gym really has become a safe place for me to begin filling that void, and I hate the idea that it might be taken from me, too. My fists curl tightly around my paint roller at the prospect, and I feel some of the paint drip across my fingers.
“Do you need money?” I ask. “I – I mean, my family – they love to make donations to small businesses like this.”
Paul smiles sadly. “Well, thanks, kiddo. Money is always great, but the truth of it is, eventually it runs out. What we really need is awareness, and actual memberships. Without that lifetime value, we can’t sustain this place long-term.”
I chew on the inside of my lip, thinking of how I can slide him some money without raising questions. “What about some sort of event at Punchline? Like a fundraiser? That would garner awareness and cash flow.”
When Paul nods in slow agreement, Andi gasps, causing both of us to blink in surprise. “Oh my god, Paul, we can totally do that for you! What about some sort of Halloween-themed event?”
Paul smirks, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Like what? Get everyone here to eat candy and drink, and then get them hyped to join the gym?”
I glance over at Andi, who is now frowning at his words, second-guessing her scheme.
“It’s not the worst idea,” I put in. “Get them thinking about it now, and even if they don’t sign up right away, it’ll be on their minds when they’re coming back from all the winter holidays ready to get fit. And the money you raise can tide you over to bridge that gap.”
He tilts his head, considering. “You might be onto something there, ladies.”
Andi and I exchange grins. I know she’ll be talking my ear off about ideas for the next two weeks, and I don’t mind it at all.
For the first time in, well, I can’t even remember how long, there’s a pleasant flutter in my stomach.
It’s a warm tingle that starts at my core and works its way outward until it’s brightening my cheeks. It’s anticipation, purpose, belonging.
And my god, does it feel good.
The Minnesota cold during the day is its own beast, but the cold when it’s dark out has an even worse bite.
I had cut Winston’s bedtime walk short to defrost my toes, seeing as my high-tops are still soggy from earlier.
I’m already envisioning the perfect evening inside: a bath bomb in the steaming hot tub, a cup of tea, the electric fireplace on blast, a dive back into my book.
As if hearing my thoughts, Winny starts tugging on his leash, eager to get to the elevator.
“Yes, yes.” I laugh as I look down at him, picking up the pace through the lobby. “I know, you don’t like the cold any more than I do.”
“Funny that you live in Minnesota, in that case.” The male voice comes from in front of me, and Winston gives an uncharacteristic wag of his tail. I grit my teeth as I look up, cursing the fact that the owner of the voice is the only male Winston’s ever shown interest in.
Benjamin stands in front of the elevator, grinning at me.
He’s wearing a maroon beanie, a plain, charcoal gray sweater, and dark blue jeans.
I note with surprise that it’s the first time I’ve seen him without Leopards gear.
Winston tugs on his leash to move forward and I let him, watching as Benjamin drops his gaze to the floor.
He crouches down to get closer to Winston’s level, and I frown.
“He doesn’t really–”
My sentence is cut off as Winston’s wiggles increase, and he shoves his body halfway into Benjamin’s arms. Benjamin glides his hands over Winny’s back and scratches as he reaches the base of his tail.
Winston curves his body like a seal and pants happily, clearly overjoyed to be getting butt scritches.
“He doesn’t really what?” Benjamin asks, but I just stare at him, openmouthed, and shake my head.
“...Nevermind.” I watch as Benjamin moves back to scratch behind Winny’s ears, accepting the kisses Winny assaults him with in stride. With a laugh, he finally straightens, and gives me an almost apologetic look.
“Sorry, I should have asked if I could pet him. I just miss my family’s dogs, so I love when I can get some dog time.”
“It’s fine,” I mutter, and sidle around him to press the elevator button.
“What’s his name?”
“Winston.” I pause, then add, “I call him Winny.”
“Well, hi, Winny.”
Winston wags his tail harder, and the bing sounds the arrival of the elevator. I meet Benjamin’s eyes as the doors open, and he gestures to the elevator, stepping aside to let me go first.