Chapter 3: The Bestower of Radiance
Bette had an exhausting workout and was pleased she got off her butt to go to the gym. Sometimes Helena's snide comments were just the encouragement she needed to take action. Even though life had inadvertently mellowed her somewhat, Helena was still fierce and possessed a sharp tongue, which amazingly seemed to be tame most of the time around Bette.
.
Bette leaned against a colorful wall at the gym to stop her head from spinning. She had just gotten out of a boot camp class taught by a maniac. "Why must everything Erin does be over the top? If I'd known she was teaching I would have never come." Bette panted.
"Boo-yah Porter!! Talking to yourself again?" yelled a guy as he popped Bette on the butt with a towel.
"Oww Paul, come on nowdon't play, I'm not in the mood."
Paul worked at the gym selling memberships and teaching nutrition classes. He was a walking billboard for proper diet and exercise. Three years ago, he weighed over 300 lbs. Now he was slim, trim and had boyfriends out the wazoo.
Paul just grinned and went to get a sip of water. "What's up with you Porter? I haven't seen you in awhile. Where has your lazy ass been?"
"Well, I'm still here Towel Boy and the next time you pop me, you better run before I pop you back! And you'll be seeing whirlybirds buddy! ".
"Yeah, yeah, we'll see about that. It was nice seeing you stranger. Check ya later" Paul said hurriedly as he leapt through the door to join a spin class that was already in progress.
Bette's office was on the 2nd floor of the gym. She skipped up the stairs leaping over 2 steps at a time. When she opened the door, she noticed that her plant was in dire need of water. "Poor Ferdinand, let's get you some wa-wa". She logged on her computer and checked her client schedule for the upcoming week. "Oh great! Mrs. Willoughby has a session with me on Tuesday. Now I have something to look forward to." Mrs. Willoughby was 65 years old, in tip-top shape and funny as hell. She told the best jokes with an ever present poker face - even during the punch line- , which was the funniest part to Bette. Mrs. Willoughby always awaited the reaction of her audience before breaking into a display of hearty devious laughter. Often bending over, clutching her stomach all the while threatening to pee on herself. Bette smiled at the thought and couldn't wait to see her again.
As she perused the client list from top to bottom slowly scrolling down the screen, Bette leaned back in her chair and thought about what a contradiction her life was. Here she was professing to people on a daily basis that being healthy was imperative to living a quality life when she, herself smoked like a train and sometimes drank too much. Sometimes she was so out of control that she had to take a smoke break during her client sessions. How sad was that? "Very sad" Bette said aloud.
She enjoyed being a personal trainer and excelled at it. She had been fit all of her life and years of dance and consistent exercise had fully prepared her for this very time in her life. This was a career that she truly enjoyed but it did not rule her life. How could it when usually she was at such odds with the straight and narrow regiment of proper diet and good nutrition. Outwardly, her body looked like she worked out consistently, but she didn't. She was blessed with excellent muscle tone and symmetry so her maintenance was minimal. She welcomed the downtime of not having to wrack her brain everyday or perform under constant pressure. Now she worked in conjuction with her body and her clients. The rapport between the 3 of them was good and furthermore, she set her own schedule.
When Ziggy abruptly left Bette without even as much as a good-bye, Bette left the art world just as abruptly and like he, without even as much as a good-bye.
"Asshole" she thought.
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"Was that the doorbell?" Bette wondered. She lazily got off the bed, wiped the sticky dribble from her mouth and went to the door. "Hel better have her key, dammit!" She looked out the peephole and saw her neighbor Tina looking around aimlessly outside.
Who is it? Bette asked curiously. Even though she knew who it was, living in NY instilled in her the habit to always ask. .
"It's your neighbor Tina from up the street!" Tina yelled.
Bette cautiously opened the door and asked Tina to come in. "Hey Tina. How are you? Please excuse me for a minute, I was lying down when you rang the doorbell & I need to brush my teeth. Make yourself comfortable"
"Ewww...By all means, please take your time" Tina laughed.
Bette returned to find Tina sitting in the foyer in the lotus position, with her eyes closed chanting softly.
"Okay, why has this nut copped a pose right here on my floor?" Bette thought. She smiled widely, looked at Tina for a few seconds and then burst out laughing. "I'm sorry Tina but you know, I wasn't expecting to see you like this when I returned from the bathroom. "
"I know. The mood just hit me, so I gave in". Tina slowly unwrapped her legs and stood up very slowly. Bette noticed how limber she was. Tina remained bent at the waist for a few seconds and placed both palms flat on the floor while touching her face to her legs. She straightened up at a snails pace, individually releasing each vertebra in her back until she was standing up straight, looking directly in Bette's eyes.
"Feel better now?" Bette queried with her head cocked to the side, smiling.
"Yeah, I do. Thanks. Sometimes I just need a quick moment to relax and get grounded and then I'm good again."
"Until the next time that is" Bette smirked.
"That's right", she gleefully exclaimed "Until the next time. So. I dropped by to pick up my mail that was left in your mailbox yesterday. "
"Here you go ma'am" Bette said retrieving the envelope from the console table and handing it to Tina.
