around the condo, locked it, and headed for her candy-apple red Lexus that was parked in the garage, a gift from Raphael. Although a little breezy, it was a beautiful October day. The lake was about a forty-minute drive from where she lived in Durham. She couldn’t wait to stretch her legs out on the trail and tone those muscles she’d neglected for the past few weeks.
Mimi turned up the volume on her stereo as her favorite CD by Norman Brown played. The love of jazz made Mimi think of the career she might have had if she hadn’t been running away from ghosts that she thought might materialize at any time, resurrecting memories she tried to suppress that were now called her secrets.
Lost in the rhythm, Mimi thumped her thumbs on the steering wheel as Norman whaled out one of his ballads. Before she knew it, Mimi was leaving Interstate 40 and exiting onto Gorman Street. She made another quick right onto Tryon Road. In a short tenth of a mile, she arrived at her destination.
Mimi drove around until she found a place she wanted to park. The temperature had risen slightly, and Mimi opted to take off her jacket and run in her sports bra and running pants. There were more people at the lake than she’d anticipated for a Thursday afternoon. Mothers pushing babies in strollers, students out for an afternoon jog, and business types with suits and tennis shoes hugged the trail. Mimi removed a terrycloth headband from the console of her car and headed toward the trail.
Standing in the grass close to the trail, Mimi spread her legs apart and locked her hands behind her head. She proceeded to loosen up her muscles by doing a few stretches and bends, rocking to one side and then the other, finally lifting her arms one at a time, reaching for the sky. Finished with her upper torso, she did some lunges, stepping back on one leg, moving her body over the forward leg, and bouncing before repeating the same process with the other leg. When she was finished, Mimi shook her body out and headed to the trail to begin her jog.
She was fit for a thirty-seven-year-old woman. Mimi had treated her body right and left the rest for Raphael to tend to. Gliding into her stride, Mimi trotted along the trail, giving herself a power boost every two hundred yards or so.
The lake became a mirror as the sunlit sky splashed its rays upon its surface, reflecting the pine trees that grew nearby and painted a picturesque scene that encompassed the few people who were in paddle boats navigating up and down the lake. A half-hour flew by and then another. Mimi hadn’t felt in better shape. Looking at her watch, she decided another half to an hour wouldn’t hurt.
Nearing the end of her last stretch she gave her legs a kick. Mimi sprinted like she was practicing for a marathon, but looked as pretty as a thoroughbred on its way to winning the Triple Crown. Her form was great and her muscles taunt. Nearing the last three meters before reaching her car, she slowed to a trot and caught her breath, giving her body time to cool down.
Mimi was in the moment. Her trot became a slow walk. Thrilled with herself for going the distance—a five-mile trek around the lake—she let out a victory scream. With hands on her hips, Mimi blew air from her mouth and nostrils, inhaled, and began to walk toward her car. She stopped cold in her tracks.
She hadn’t seen him in nineteen years, but he looked as good as he did then, only now he was a little thicker and older. He was drenched in a layer of medium dark chocolate. He was of medium height, now bald, but she would’ve recognized him and those slightly bowed legs anywhere. He was what the old women meant when they said he could make a weak woman fall to her knees. If she had stayed in Durham, he would’ve been her baby’s daddy. She wiped the thin coat of sweat that appeared on her face and moved out of her trance as her old love moved in her direction.
16
Mimi tried to keep her eyes from devouring his meaty legs that lay exposed beyond the hottest pair of white short shorts she’d seen in a long time. Her eyes continued to travel upward and beyond the hemline of his shorts, relaxing momentarily on