Quinn's Quest

Two days later, Quinn waltzed into the fitness center ready to take her punishment. The manager, a well-built young man named Hal, swaggered as he showed Quinn through the facility. Decked out in her new light blue sweatpants, matching zippered sweatshirt, and a dark blue tee she followed close behind him. She chuckled to herself as he puffed out his chest preening like a rooster for the women on the exercise equipment. “Hi, Hal,” three young women called in unison. They waved and ogled Hal’s body as he passed. He acknowledged their attention with a smile and a thumbs-up. He does have a cute butt, she thought. “We have all the best equipment here,” he said. “Oh, I bet you do,” she snapped before realizing she was talking out loud. “What did you say?” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Ah, I said … isn’t that Sue?” She pointed to a heavyset woman on an exercise bike. Quinn’s cheeks were on fire and she knew they were turning pink. “No, I think her name is Vera or Kira, or something like that. Did I tell you, you get one free trial day?” “Can I take it now?” she asked, pleased he did not seem to notice her blunder. “Of course, just be sure to sign in at the front desk.” Thirty minutes later, sweat cascaded down Quinn’s face and back. She slowed her treadmill to a stop. After staggering off, she meandered over to the water vending machine in the break area. “Hi. I haven’t seen you around here before,” a wafer-thin redhead seated at a nearby table said. “Are you new?” “I’m taking a trial visit.” Quinn reached in her pocket, took out a dollar and fifty cents, and put it in the vending machine. “Why don’t you come over and sit with us?” the woman said, fluffing her hair. She patted an empty chair next to a pudgy blonde sporting a beehive hairdo that looked like it was left over from the 60’s. They seem friendly enough. Besides, my legs are killing me. Quinn carried her bottle of water to the table and took a seat “I’m Linda Lou Purdy, and this is my friend Bunny Randall,” the redhead offered. “We’re regulars, never miss a Tuesday or Thursday.” “I’m Quinn O’Connor. It’s nice to meet you.” “Are you from around here, Quinn?” Bunny asked and adjusted her silver-rimmed eyeglasses. “No. I’m from California. I’ve only been here a couple of weeks.” “Has anyone warned you?” Linda Lou asked. “You need to be sure to use sunscreen, sweetie. The ultra-violet rays at this altitude will ruin your complexion. I have some friends whose faces are dried up like prunes because they weren’t careful.” The small talk continued and Linda Lou deftly moved the conversation to the quality of eligible men in town. “Some of the good old boys are great, but a lot of them are scoundrels,” she said. “You’ve got to watch out who you associate with,” Bunny added. “Take for instance, my ex-husband,” Linda Lou said. “I caught the sumbitch red-handed with our neighbor fifteen years ago. I’d suspected something was going on for a couple of weeks, but you could have knocked me over with a feather when I opened our bedroom door. There he was in all his glory,” her eyes misted and her voice began to tremble, “not with the woman next door, but with the man next door.” Bunny seemed to sense how much the incident still cut to the quick and shifted the subject to her own failed marriage. “You know how it goes. You get to be a certain age and add a few pounds. Then some cute young thing catches your husband’s eye. Before you know it, everything goes kablooey and you’re all alone.” Bunny smacked the table with her fist and her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. “But, by God, he didn’t get off cheap.” She pushed the glasses back with her index finger and posed with an air of triumph. “That’s right. Bob Randall paid a pretty price for his little chippie,” Linda Lou said. “Bunny is set for life. Aren’t you?” “I’m A-OK,” Bunny said with a wide grin. “By the way, Quinn, what brings you to New Mexico?” Linda Lou asked. “Not man trouble, I hope?” “No. Not really. My husband died in an accident a couple of months ago. I just needed to get away for a while.” Quinn didn’t feel like joining the husband bashing—at least not yet. “I’m so sorry,” Bunny touched Quinn’s hand. “It must be hard to lose a husband that way.” Linda Lou nodded sympathetically. “Bunny and I are going to Jake’s Place for a few drinks tomorrow night. It’s a little spot not too far from here. Would you like to join us? It would give you a chance to meet some new people and get your mind off of your situation. Do you think you’re up to it, sweetie?” Quinn grinned. “Sounds like a great idea.”