The Wildwater Walking Club by Claire Cook Read Free Book Online

said.
    “What? ‘Help send these poor women to camp’?” Tess stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “You know, that might just work. My whole family would probably donate.”

Day 10
7144 steps
    AS SOON AS I REACHED THE PARKING LOT, I STARTED THINKING about Michael again. It was like I could feel his presence once I broke through the Balancing Act force field. Even though close to a thousand employees worked—in Balancing Act lingo—“on campus,” I had such a strong feeling I was going to run into him at some point, as if fate wouldn’t be able to resist crashing us together again.
    I wasn’t even sure I believed in fate, but just in case, I’d dressed extra carefully. I was wearing a subdued but flirty periwinkle and white sundress in a contemporary floral print, a complete departure from my usual professional casual work attire, which consisted mostly of pants and jackets in neutral solids.
    It actually felt good to wear a dress for a change, and when I’d looked in the mirror before I left the house, I’d thought I looked pretty good for a redundant woman of a certain age without a certain someone/certain job/ounce of certainty in her life. The periwinkle brought out the mossy green in my eyes, and my chin-length brown hair was still at that good place between touch-ups when the graying roots hadn’t even started to emerge yet. The dress had a V-neck and a touch of ruching that gave me the illusion of a long, lean silhouette. My upper arms weren’t great, but I didn’t think there was any serious wiggling going on yet.
    I pulled into the exact same spot in front of the Balancing ActEmployee Store I’d parked in last time. I’d flipped through my buyout papers last night and couldn’t find anything about the expiration of my employee discount, so I’d have to take my chances. Balancing Act employees had two open weeks before Christmas and one in August when they were allowed to buy for family and friends, but the rest of the year, we were only supposed to buy shoes in our own size. With luck, my feet looked smaller in sandals.
    As soon as I entered the store, I walked quickly over to the Walk On By display. I scooped up a box labeled 6½ with my free hand and headed right for the register.
    “Hi,” I said to the same woman who’d waited on me last time. “I can’t believe this, but I just took a buyout, so I came in here and bought a whole bunch of shoes, you know, while I still could, and well, I guess I wasn’t paying much attention, because one pair wasn’t even my size.” I curled my toes. “Six and a half,” I said. “Small feet.”
    I held up both boxes, then put the 8½ on the counter. The woman gave me a look that said, essentially, whatever .
    I cradled the 6½ box in my arms. If she didn’t care, then I certainly wasn’t going to keep feeling like a criminal. “Hey,” I said, “remember that purple pedometer you gave me last time? You don’t happen to have two more of those you can sell me, do you?”
    She reached under the counter and handed me two purple pedometers. “On the house,” she said. “It’s the least Balancing Act can do for you.”
    I thought she could use some new material, but Balancing Act wasn’t my problem anymore, so whatever . I thanked her and walked back out to my car with Rosie’s shoes. It had all gone so easily, it was almost a bit of a letdown. I wished I hadn’t overexplained myself like that in the beginning. It left me feeling slightly sullied, as if another shower today wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It just wasn’t the kind of thing I would normally do.
    I mean, what was the big deal? Worst case scenario, I could have kept the shoes and bought Rosie a pair at retail. I wouldn’t even have had to tell her. She’d still have gotten her shoes, and I’d still have ended up with a lavender garden. None of the fun of the barter would have been lost, and I was getting a paycheck, so it’s not like I was destitute or anything, at