I sighed. Who was I fooling? I’d once thought they were so stifling because they cared about me. It took them forever to have me. They were forty-seven, in fact. And they worried constantly. I’d never felt good enough for them, or anyone, but I had thought they would love me no matter how much I screwed up my life. That was what parents were supposed to do.
Staring out my apartment window, I decided to put the past out of my mind. I changed my clothes, adding my hat and mittens but leaving my Eskimo parka behind. Too constricting for jogging. Then I hopped on the subway and headed for Central Park.
Shortly thereafter, I stretched out and started my run. As pretty as Central Park was in winter, I could only imagine what it must look like in the summer--trees in full bloom, green grass, fragrant flowers, ponds. But even the weather now brightened my mood as I jogged along a footpath. The air was crisp and bright, and the snowy trees looked postcard-perfect.
Several people milled about visiting the zoo, sitting around the fountain, walking dogs, pushing strollers, and jogging just like I was. Okay, they didn’t exactly look like me, but at least I was attempting to jog. It probably looked more like a bouncy walk, but hey, baby steps, right? I glanced around at the people, hoping they wouldn’t notice me. The last thing I wanted was more attention.
I peeked over my shoulder, and a man lurked a few paces behind me, with hunched shoulders and shifty eyes. He averted his gaze and walked along the edge of the path. I turned back around, my heart now in my throat, and picked up the pace a little, then peeked back over my shoulder. He was power walking now, still looking into the trees. Even I knew people didn’t exercise in pressed khakis, loafers, and a suede jacket.
At the fork in the path, I veered to the right. I checked behind me and saw the man do the same. At the next fork, I veered to the left. Again, the man did the same. For God’s sake, not another stalker. I pulled off my mitten and flipped open my cell to call Dylan.
“Ready for round two?” Dylan answered his phone.
“Not quite, but I could use your expertise.”
“About what?”
“How to handle a power-walking stalker.”
“Not again, Mac.”
“I know, believe me. My life has become a circus. Either I smell like money, or I’ve got a follow me sign stuck to my behind.” I kept a close eye on Khaki Man, and prayed that he’d go away.
“Go to the main entrance of the park, and I’ll meet you there,” Dylan said.
“Wait, how do you know where I am?”
“You just told me.”
“I did?” I was pretty sure I didn’t, but at the next fork in the path, a group of joggers merged in between us, hopefully blocking Khaki Man’s view of me. “Oh, wait. I think I lost him.”
“Callie, do not try to nab this guy on your own. Just because you knocked me down doesn’t mean you’re a pro at protecting yourself.”
“Trust me, I have no plans to nab anyone. I’m just trying to lose him.” I ducked off the path into a group of trees and waited. When the man ran right by, bobbing his head left and right, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Do you think it’s the Midnight Molester?” Dylan asked.
“Not likely. You should see this guy.” I stepped out of the trees, and the man glanced over his shoulder and then did a double-take. “Uh-oh, Khaki Man saw me.”
“Khaki who?”
“Hang on he’s headed back this way. I’m gonna haul my butt out of here.” I tucked the phone in my pocket, pulled my mitten back on, and pumped both arms, jogging faster. Okay, bouncy walking slightly faster. This is pathetic, Cal. No more healthy portions for you.
He power-walked quicker, looking like it was a piece of cake, and he was gaining on me.
Big surprise there.
I had to do something, or he’d catch me. Spying a horse just standing there at the edge of the footpath, I didn’t stop to consider who he belonged to. With adrenaline surging through my veins, I stepped on a tree stump and vaulted onto his back. His head whipped up, his hindquarters dropped, and he shot forward like a bullet.
“Yaaaaaaiiiiiipe!” I screamed, scaring him even more, and he bolted faster. “Oh, no,” I yelled, my insecurity slapping the saddle like a moron on a pogo stick. My fanny would never be the same. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that a man in a uniform, who appeared to be helping a lost child, yelled for me to halt, or freeze, or something like that. I snatched the reins, and I swear I intended to stop, but I was too busy trying not to die to concentrate on getting the horse to whoa.
For a moment, I thought I’d lost Khaki Man, then I spotted him through the trees. I flopped around in the saddle and tried to get a better hold on Hi-Ho Silver, when he detoured into the woods. Fresh out of Lone Ranger moves, I couldn’t get the crazy horse to respond to any of my movements. I had ridden a couple of times as a kid, but nothing was working, so I just held on tight and let Silver run off his fear.