Running Wilde (The Winnie Wilde Series Book 1) (2 page)

Winnie decided to nip Tiffany’s behavior in the bud and send a message to her son at the same time, in case he got ideas about standing in her way. “This was my decision,” she said firmly to her daughter in a low voice of warning, “and don’t you forget it. I’ll not have you taking the place of your father in the bossing around department. As I said, I’m through with that nonsense.” Winnie hesitated, then added with a glance around the gathering, “From anyone.”

A heavy awkwardness fell over the small group. Mark looked down, inspecting the toes of his shoes in discomfort. Chet glanced back at the house. Kathy put a supportive hand on Winnie’s shoulder while mother and daughter faced off in silence, each waiting for the other to blink.

Finally, Chet broke the ice. “Why don’t you go with Mom?” he asked Kathy. “I don’t think it’s safe for her to roam all over the country alone and I’d bet you two would have a blast.”

“I’d love to,” Kathy answered with a big smile, “but I have my law practice to run, and more importantly, Winnie hasn’t asked me to go.” She glanced at her friend, then back to Chet. “I think this is something she wants to do on her own.” She looked back at Winnie. “Am I correct?” Kathy knew it was something Winnie wanted to do solo because the two of them had discussed it several times ever since Winnie had approached Kathy about legally changing her name.

“Absolutely,” Winnie confirmed. “It’s not like I’m going,” Winnie began with a slight hesitation. “Oh what do they say when someone goes underground or something like that?”

“Off the grid,” Mark offered.

“Yes,” Winnie said, giving Mark a small smile of thanks. “It’s not like I’m going off the grid. I’ll have my phone and my laptop. I’ll even check in every day by text, if that’s what you want, just so you know where I am and won’t worry.” She looked from her son and daughter to see if her response had placated them.

“And when does this grand adventure begin?” asked Tiffany, still not convinced it was a good idea.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Winnie answered truthfully. “I need to get the house in shape to sell first and either sell the contents or put them in storage. And, of course, the weather has a lot to do with when I go where. I definitely want to go to Phoenix and see Jennifer Radner, a friend from college. Jennifer and I reconnected recently on Facebook.” Winnie paused, waiting for more protests. Receiving none, she continued. “I have a lot of old friends I’d like to see. And of course, I’ll visit your grandmother in Florida. She’s probably going to be my first stop.”

Tiffany sniffed, then said, “And what does Grammy Marge have to say about all this? Or haven’t you told her yet?”

Winnie started to roll her eyes, then stopped. Just because her children were treating her as a child, it didn’t mean she should act like one. “I told her when she called this morning to wish me happy birthday. She’s excited for me and loves that I changed my name back to Wilde.”

“Well,” Tiffany said with another sniff, “Grammy Marge was always a bit eccentric.”

“Is eccentric,” Winnie said, correcting her daughter. “Present tense, dear. Your grandmother is far from dead. In fact, she has a new boyfriend and can’t wait for me to meet him.”

“A boyfriend at her age?” Tiffany asked, her voice laced with mild disgust.

“As I said, Tiff,” Winnie emphasized, “your grandmother isn’t dead. I hope I have half her spunk when I’m her age.”

Before his sister could say anything more, Chet got up and gave his mother a kiss on her cheek. Like his father, he towered over Winnie’s 5’6” frame. “As long as you keep in touch regularly, I think hitting the trail to see your friends and Grammy is a good idea. These last few years have been rough on you, Mom.”

“Thank you, Chet,” Winnie said with a smile. She turned to her daughter. “How about you, Tiff? I don’t need your blessing to do this, but I also don’t want bad blood between us.”

Tiffany crossed her arms and pouted. It was another trait she’d picked up from her father. “What about my wedding?” she whined to her mother. “I need you to help me plan it.”

Winnie reached out and placed a hand on each of her daughter’s stiff arms. “Oh, sweetie,” Winnie said, trying to comfort her daughter and relax the tension between them, “that’s over two years away, after Mark finishes med school.” She laughed. “If Hillary Clinton could help Chelsea plan her wedding while jetting around the world as Secretary of State, I can certainly do it from a hotel room with a good Wi-Fi connection.”

CHAPTER TWO

With her arms and legs working liked synchronized pistons, Winnie powered toward Inspiration Point. She jogged the trail early in the morning several days a week. It was a routine she’d started after Edward left her for a sales clerk named Vicki, who was half his age – and hers. In some ways, she wanted to thank Vicki for taking Edward off her hands, but like a broken fingernail that needs a good filing, the pain was still too ragged.

Winnie turned up the volume of the music on her iPhone and pushed herself faster up the incline. She’d taken up regular exercise after the split, not just the running. She’d never been overweight, but walking on the treadmill at home had firmed up her body and helped keep her emotions in check. It also increased her stamina. Soon she was tackling the challenging paths and hills of a local state park, pushing her body a little more each time until she could jog the trail instead of walking it. The exercise had kept her sane and had kept her from killing Edward.

Winnie saw a lot of familiar faces on the trail week after week. She passed a small group of women about her age that often walked together. Pleasantries were exchanged as Winnie powered by.

As she rounded a bend, two sweaty men jogged towards her. She’d seen them before and they exchanged nods. As they passed, Winnie slowed her pace and turned her head to watch their retreat, enjoying their muscled shirtless backs and tight bottoms. They looked to be in their late thirties or early forties and clearly took care of themselves. Fifty wasn’t fatal, she reminded herself as they disappeared around the turn. She hadn’t slept with anyone since her marriage had disintegrated. She’d been on a couple of dates set up by friends, but had never been interested in anything more than dinner. Her fifty-year-old libido wasn’t asleep, she reminded herself, just napping.

Once she reached Inspiration Point, Winnie spotted a man she’d seen on the trail several times before. He was of average height and about her son’s age. She’d noticed him a few times sitting on one of the benches when she’d reached the lookout. When he spotted her, he smiled and slightly tipped his baseball cap, as he always did. Winnie liked his smile. It was open and whimsical and always prompted her to smile back.

She looked around for an empty bench. There were only two at the top and both were occupied this morning. She didn’t need to rest, but the peace and quiet might help clear her mind. She was still disturbed by the way she and Tiffany had left things the evening before. By the time the birthday cake had been cut and presents open, except for the one she’d received from Kathy, Tiffany still hadn’t thawed.

The young man stood up. “You’re welcome to share my bench.” It was the first time he’d spoken more than a good morning greeting to her. As a courtesy, when he spoke he took off the cap he wore against the morning sun, revealing thick black hair. Winnie looked up into his face and was surprised to find herself looking into eyes the color of the sky just before a storm – a dark blue-gray. She stopped short, unable to focus on anything else.

“Very beautiful today,” he said. “The view, I mean.” There was a nervous stammer to his voice, but not in his eyes, which were steady and confident.

Winnie glanced over the cliff. The view was clear today and stretched forever. Except for the first few times she’d walked the trail, she’d never taken the time to sit and enjoy the scenery. Those first few times had been out of necessity. She’d been exhausted when she’d reached the top and needed to rest before continuing. Now she was used to the exercise and never stopped for a breather unless she needed to think.

She removed one of her ear buds, letting it dangle, so she could hear him better. “Thank you,” she told him as she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of one hand. She looked down at the ground, focusing on the gravel, afraid another look into the man’s eyes would change her mind. “But I need to go.”

After taking a drink of water from the sports bottle she always carried when running, she turned and started back down the trail. She hadn’t taken but a few steps when her sneaker caught on a rock. She stumbled, but didn’t fall. The man started towards her, but she held up a hand. “I’m fine, thanks, just clumsy.” She replaced the loose ear bud back into her ear, and took off again at a fast pace.

Back at her car, Winnie panicked. Her car keys were gone. She always stashed them in the snug pocket of her leggings, but the pocket was empty. Remembering her stumble, she groaned. She’d have to go all the way back up the trail, then back down again. She took a big swig from her water bottle and began retracing her steps. She walked this time, head down, music off, eyes canvassing the rough dirt in case they’d fallen before she’d reached the top.

She hadn’t gone far when she heard, “Looking for these?”

Winnie looked up to see the young man from Inspiration Point coming toward her. Her car keys dangled from his fingers. “I found them on the ground where you had your little misstep.”

“Thank you so much.” Winnie looked at the man, again captivated by his eyes. “You saved me a great deal of time.”

“Then how about a reward?”

She took a wary step back. “A reward?”

He grinned. “A favor really. You see, you’re killing me.” He slapped his right hand against his heart in a school kid’s Pledge of Allegiance gesture. “I first spotted you when I was running here with a buddy. Since then, I’ve been running this trail hoping to get up the courage to talk to you.”

“Me?” Winnie was in shock. Cute or not, he was very young and a stranger.

He laughed. “Not that it hasn’t been good for me, but give a guy a break. How about I take you to breakfast?”

“Now?”

“Why not? I can be late for work. I’m the boss.”

He flashed her a killer smile and she noted that one of his canines was slightly crooked in an otherwise perfect mouth. She shook herself back into focus. Unlike the joggers she’d admired earlier, he was wearing a shirt. It was sleeveless, along with sweaty and snug, and clung to his flat belly and well-developed chest like a second skin. She went back to looking at his crooked tooth.

Winnie couldn’t think of a reason to say no, except one. “We’re both sweaty and stinky.”

“Then we’ll pick a place where we can sit outside.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” she said, stuttering. Inside, she cringed at her lack of composure and felt like an idiot.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said with sincerity. “I’m such a fool. You must be married.”

“Ah, no, I’m not,” she answered. “I’m divorced. But I am old enough to be your mother.”

“So what?” He took off his cap and turned it around. It made him look even younger. Winnie studied his face. It was open and confidant. He wasn’t being cocky, but serious in his request to take her out. He hadn’t offered up reasons why it was okay, so there was nothing to rebut. He’d simply dropped the ball deftly onto her side of the court and waited for a return.

“Sorry, but I have to get going,” she said quickly. She started walking fast, back toward the parking lot to make a quick getaway.

“Don’t you need these?” he called to her.

Winnie turned around and saw her keys still dangling from his fingers. He covered the distance between them in a few long strides. “At least let me walk you back to your car,” he said as he handed the keys off to her.

They walked in silence. When they got to her car, she thanked him again.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile. “My name is Ben.” When she didn’t offer up her name, he added, “One day, I hope you’ll let me buy you that breakfast.”

CHAPTER THREE

“You should have gone, Winnie,” Kathy said over brunch the following Sunday.

“He could have been a serial killer,” Winnie replied, her fork hovered over her half-eaten eggs Florentine.

“It was just breakfast and in a public place. You take your car. He takes his. If you don’t like each other, you drive off after your first cup of coffee.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Deciding against another bite of eggs, Winnie stabbed a grape tomato in her side salad and watched it bleed.

“Why not?” Kathy asked between mouthfuls of a veggie omelet. “Next time he asks you to breakfast, go. It’s that simple.” She took another bite and swallowed while watching Winnie. After a few seconds, she aimed her fork at her. “You haven’t been back to the trail since, have you?”

Winnie stuffed the impaled tomato into her mouth and shook her head.

“So you’re going to give up running because you’re afraid Mr. Gorgeous is going to ask you out for eggs again?”

“I didn’t give it up. I’m running on the treadmill Edward bought a few years back and never used.” Winnie swallowed and leaned toward Kathy. “Besides, Ben is half my age,” she hissed, in case someone at a table near them was listening. “Don’t you find that odd?”

Kathy put down her fork and laughed. “Not in the least, Win. You’re a beautiful, single woman. Who cares how old either of you are as long as you’re both legal? I’d jump him in a hot minute.”

“You’re a lesbian,” Winnie pointed out.

“True, but if I were straight and a young, cute sexy guy asked me out, I’d be all over that like white on rice, trust me.”

Winnie took a sip of her coffee and shook her head. She adored Kathy Lovelace. They’d been close friends ever since grade school when they lived across the street from each other. In high school they were known as Lovelace and Wilde, inseparable partners-in-crime, like the TV detectives Cagney and Lacey, only instead of solving crime, they caused mischief. After high school, they grew apart while attending different colleges but stayed in touch, rekindling their closeness at their tenth high school reunion. By then Winnie was a wife and mother of two and Kathy a busy lawyer trying to build a practice, but the bonds formed in their youth were tight and they easily slipped back into their friendship as if they’d never been apart. Kathy, a family law attorney, had even handled Winnie’s divorce from Edward Crenshaw.

“I’m fifty years old,” Winnie reminded Kathy again. “And a grandmother.”

“So for your fiftieth birthday, give yourself a twenty-five year old,” Kathy quipped. “Or whatever age he happens to be.” She picked up her latte and stared at Winnie over the rim of the large round cup. “It might do you a world of good. A fling might get you ready for a real relationship down the road.” She tongued the foam on top of her beverage to underline her meaning. The suggestive gesture made Winnie blush.

Kathy put down her cup. “Remember how shortly after our tenth high school reunion you encouraged me to come out of the closet?” Across from her, Winnie smiled warmly at her friend and nodded. “That was the best advice you’ve ever given me,” Kathy said, returning the smile. “I was miserable hiding who I was and now I’m very happy. It’s true that I’ve had a lot of up and down relationships, but after I came out, I was always in those relationships as the real me. I wasn’t living a half-life.” She paused, then added, “That’s what I want for you, Winnie. Even though you’re straight, you need to come out of the closet and be who you really are. Growing up, you were absolutely audacious. You were lively and curious and always ready to try new adventures. After Edward came into your life, you stopped being you. You became a robot wife.”

“Maybe I grew up?” Winnie suggested.

“More like dried up,” Kathy shot back. “But when you asked me to change your name legally back, I knew the old Winnie was still alive somewhere inside you. When Chet took me aside the night of your birthday party and told me how you’d smashed your drink against the garage, I knew the real Winnie Wilde was aching to break free of Eleanor Crenshaw.”

“Chet tattled on me?” asked Winnie with surprise. “I thought Tiffany was the snitch.”

“Chet wasn’t tattling,” Kathy told her. “He was very concerned and asked me if there was something seriously bothering you. I assured him that you were fine, just doing some personal housekeeping and cleaning out some emotional cobwebs. I told him to give you some space. He seemed content with my answer.”

Winnie reached over and patted her friend’s hand. “Thanks, Kathy. Hopefully he’ll convince Tiffany of that and she’ll calm down. She hasn’t spoken to me since my birthday, even though I’ve called and texted her.”

“She’s her father’s daughter, Win. You know that. It will take her a while to warm up to Winnie Wilde. She’s only known you as Eleanor Crenshaw.”

Winnie sipped her black coffee. “You make it sound like my children will have to adjust to a new me after I’ve had a sex change.”

After a busboy cleared their plates, their waiter described the desserts, convincing them that they couldn’t live without the flourless chocolate cake. They ordered a single piece with two forks, along with more coffee.

Between bites of the cake, Kathy asked, “Speaking of cleaning out cobwebs, have you used that gift I gave you yet?”

Across from her, Winnie turned red, nearly snorting her cake.

“Ah ha!” Kathy grinned at her. “So you have found my birthday gift useful.”

Winnie glanced around, then whispered, “Where in the hell did you find a
Happy 50
th
Birthday
dildo?”

“You can special order anything online,” Kathy said with a lascivious wink. “You can probably even order up a sexy young man, but you already have that.”

Winnie leaned forward. “So you’re suggesting that I objectify Ben, making him a boy toy? You’d scream bloody murder if a man tried to do that to you.”

Kathy laughed and took another drink of her coffee to wash down her cake. “Yes and I have, yet such behavior still continues in our world. Hell, even a congresswoman isn’t safe from pats on the ass and sexual remarks. So why not turn the tables?” She ate another bite of the cake and put her fork down. “Here’s a thought.” Kathy dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “How about considering Ben as physical therapy? Will that help ease your conscience?” They laughed again. “Besides, guys our age come with too much baggage,” Kathy continued. “Ever consider that? Even women our age come with matched luggage, and I’m not talking about designer suitcases.”

“You make a good case, counselor, but Ben’s probably long gone by now since I haven’t shown up for almost a week.”

“Then find another therapist,” Kathy prodded. “There are lots of good looking guys in Los Angeles. Even a few straight ones if you look in the right places.”

“We’ll see,” Winnie said, her voice laced with skepticism in spite of her grin. “In the meantime, I’ve hired a contractor to begin polishing up the house for sale. He starts tomorrow.”

“A contractor, huh?” Kathy winked at her. “That might be worth looking into.”

Winnie shook her head. “Down girl. Although Don Church is nice looking and very pleasant, he’s my age or older, has a paunch, and wears a wedding ring.”

“Maybe, but you checked for that ring, didn’t you?”

Winnie blushed. “Yes, I confess, I did. Lock me up and throw away the key.” She stuffed another bite of cake into her mouth.

“Did Ben the jogger have a ring?”

Winnie felt her blush deepen. She swallowed the food in her mouth. “No, he didn’t.”

Kathy leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at Winnie. “Tell me, did you put your birthday present to good use on your birthday or after meeting sexy-ass Ben?”

Winnie closed her eyes. Her face felt hot again and she knew it was probably as pink as an azalea. Without opening her eyes, she held up two fingers in a victory sign. “Both.”

“Good for you, pal!” Kathy exclaimed. “If we weren’t full, I’d say that calls for another piece of cake.”

Winnie opened her eyes and scrunched her brows together with concern. “I am worried about something other than Ben’s age.”

“What’s that?” Kathy asked. “It can’t be getting preggers. Didn’t you go through the change a little early?” Winnie nodded. “As for disease,” Kathy continued, “just make sure he wears a condom.”

“Condoms,” groaned Winnie, “there’s another concern.”

“Just stock up,” Kathy advised. “Get a small assortment of sizes, just in case.”

“Condoms come in sizes?” Winnie’s eyes shot open at the news. “You mean like shoes?”

“They also come in different colors and styles,” Kathy advised. “Just like shoes.” She winked across the table at Winnie.

Winnie leaned back and shook her head. “Now I have another worry.”

“What else?” asked Kathy, taking another sip from her coffee cup.

Winnie shoved the cake plate aside and leaned forward. “My body.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kathy snorted. “A lot of young women would kill for your figure, especially for those natural boobies of yours.”

“Not my figure,” Winnie clarified. “My skin. I can run and diet off pounds, but fifty-year-old skin is fifty-year-old skin. It’s saggy, spotted, and has cellulite. Not to mention, it’s far from silky smooth.”

In response, Kathy whipped her cell phone out of her purse. “What are you doing right now?”

“Panicking,” snapped Winnie.

“No, after brunch?”

“Nothing much. Why?”

Kathy got up from their table and went toward the back of the restaurant by the restrooms. She returned a few minutes later and sat back down. “Let’s pay the bill and get out of here.”

“What’s the rush?” Winnie asked as she pulled out her wallet.

“I was heading to my spa after lunch. Fortunately, they had a cancellation and I got you in around the same time. I booked you a full body scrub and massage.” Kathy beamed at her. “They can’t do anything about spots and sagging, but when they get done with you, your skin will feel like a baby’s backside and you’ll feel like a million bucks.”