Where my father’s tidy little two-story brick office building/apartment complex had once stood was now a three-level parking structure across the street from a ski shop. Both of my feet hit the brakes and the SUV fishtailed before coming to a stop. The pick-up behind me zoomed around my still vehicle, honking his displeasure.
The garage attendant, a young man with shaggy dark hair came running up to the car. I depressed the button to roll down the window. He blanched when he saw my face but then forced a professional smile. “Can I help you with something, ma’am?”
A shaking finger indicated the lot as I breathed, “How long has this been here?”
He followed my finger with his gaze. “The parking deck? Oh, about three years.”
“What happened to the building that was here before? The lawyer’s office?” I braced myself for the answer.
He frowned at me. “Dunno. It was an empty lot for most of my life.”
He looked about twenty.
“Are you sure you’re okay, lady? Need me to call someone?”
“No. Thanks.” I rolled the window back up before he could say anything else.
I carefully blanked my mind and continued on my way out of town. Okay, so that had been a shock. But it could be a good thing. Maybe my parents had gotten married and my father had moved his law office to another building. I was sorry I hadn’t gone into the Victorian and gotten the answers.
Needing reassurance, I pulled over into the Presbyterian church parking lot and dialed my mother’s number from memory. She picked up on the third ring. “Joey, I really can’t talk right now.”
“Are you married?” I blurted.
I could practically hear my mother scowling. “Of course I’m married. What sort of question is that?”
Relief filled me to the brim. Yes, I had gotten that part right. Mom and dad were happily married. I was about to ask her if I could speak to dad when she said, “Now I’ve got to go. I’ll call you back later.”
Click.
Robin had been right about one thing. The changes without the memories to explain them were jarring. I’d better get used to the changes though. Another twenty odd years of random shocks were in my future.
One came not even five minutes later. My new gym was a sight to behold. An elegant new structure with cathedral ceilings and two-story tinted windows that would allow the inhabitants to see out but no one driving by to peer inside. The sign in the lot was all black and white elegance with the name Joey’s Gymnastics and Fitness Center. A silhouetted female figure doing a handstand and split on a balance beam drove the point home.
The lot held two other vehicles. A blue battered Toyota and a silver Lexus. The sun was out, the temperature swinging above the freezing point and melting the snow on the blacktop. I parked to the rear of the lot, not wanting to take space away from any patrons who might show up, and then picked my way carefully over the patches of slush between me and the front door. Finally, my hand wrapped around the cool metal and I yanked it open.
Warmth and light filled the space. My lips parted as I took it all in. A tall unmanned receptionist’s desk sat to the immediate right of the doors. Beyond it was a gorgeous work-out space. Mats in primary colors, foam block pits, beams of different heights. Mirrors on the back wall reflected both the outside light from the glass windows and the dimmable recessed lighting above. It was utterly incredible, taking the best of every gym I’d ever seen and melding them into the perfect space for gymnastics.
And this was just one of my gyms!
“Oh, I am so glad you’re here,” a male voice called from up above. Craning my neck, I looked up to the catwalk over the uneven bars to see a man with skin the color of fresh coffee and the darkest hair and eyes I’d ever seen. He was short but well-muscled, as evident by his skin-tight blue and black tiger-striped leotard that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“Trevor?” I cleared my throat to disguise the fact that it had come out as a question.
“Ssshh, I think she may have passed out.” He did a quick up and down motion with both hands and then checked over his shoulder before heading for the stairs. “Not surprising. I think she drank enough vodka to sink a Broadway matinee. Are you sure you