5th Street: Noah

The night Veronica Cruz prayed for her mother to die, she never imagined her mother wouldn’t wake the next morning, but she didn’t. She died in her sleep in the very house that Veronica was now destined to spend the rest of her life alone.

That was six months ago. Since then, Veronica’s bane of existence consisted of waking to a silent home and wandering aimlessly about from her bed to the sofa in the front room to the kitchen table until it was time to crawl back into bed and start all over again.

Her mother had left her a substantial trust with the stipulation that the house would never be sold. The home that had been in the family for generations was to stay within the family for at least another hundred years or until there was no one left in the family to pass it on to. Unless she lived to be more than a hundred, it would probably be sooner since having kids required male companionship and meeting a man required her leaving the house for more than just grocery shopping. Still, she had promised her mother on her deathbed that she would never sell the house.

Since she was an only child, the house that was now paid for was hers, free and clear. The closest relative she had was an aunt her mother had only spoken of a few times. She’d never met her father, so she had no idea if she had any family on his side.

At twenty-eight, Veronica felt like a spinster. Sure, most would consider her relatively young for a spinster, but the years leading up to her mother’s death had aged her in so many ways. When Veronica found out about the cancer and how little time her mother had left, she dropped everything. She took a leave from her job as a human resource director at the local college—a job she loved—to care for her mother full time. Her social life became non-existent for over two years.

By the time her mother passed, Veronica was forty pounds heavier and drained completely of any energy to return to the real world. She had no desire to go back to work so worn and completely out of shape. Feeling as if she’d aged ten years and heavier than she’d ever been in her life, there was no way she was showing her face there again. Not only did her mother’s death drain her physically, but it had also taken her spirit. She was no longer the vibrant young woman full of goals and ambitions she once had been.

Losing her mom the way she had, watching her wither away hopelessly in so much pain with no way to help her, had scarred her forever. She was angry with God and saw no reason to even try being a contributing member of society anymore. What good did it do you, anyway, when it could be taken away just like that?

A loud knock at the front door jolted Veronica out of her dreary thoughts. She already knew who it was, and she rolled her eyes, dragging herself off the sofa to answer the door.

Her best friend Nellie smiled widely as soon as Veronica opened the door. “Guess what I got us?” She held up what looked like tickets of some sort.

“I told you,” Veronica said, already heading back to her favorite spot on the sofa. “I’m not going to any movies or concerts or any event that involves me being around other people. I’m a cow, Nellie. I don’t even have clothes that fit me anymore.”

“Do you have sweats?”

“That’s all I have.” She pulled the material on the sweat pants she was wearing. “I haven’t bought anything else in months. It’s all I can get my fat ass into, and I refuse to go shopping for anything else in this embarrassing size.”

“That’s perfect then,” Nellie said, “because these are one-week passes to the gym over on Fifth Street.”

Veronica gaped at her. “A gym?” She wasn’t even aware there was a gym on Fifth Street.

“Yes, a gym. Get up. We’re going.” Nellie grabbed her hand and pulled. “I’m tired of you using your weight as an excuse to bury yourself from the world. We’ll go together.”

Veronica groaned as she got up off the sofa. “I didn’t know there was a gym on Fifth Street. Are you sure?” She took the tickets from Nellie. They were very amateurish looking—printed on regular paper even cut a bit raggedly. “Where did you get these?”

“Never you mind. I knew you wouldn’t want to go to the crowded gym over at the mall full of all those people you’re so adamant about staying away from.” She shoved Veronica toward the front door. “This is a smaller community gym, but they’re still nice enough to offer free one-week passes. We’ll do a week, and then depending on how you feel, we can sign up for more.”

Veronica tried to protest about not having a gym bag, but as usual, Nellie was one-step ahead of her. “I have everything we need in the car. Just grab your keys and wallet. No excuses.”

For months, Nellie had done her best to try to pull Veronica out of her funk, and Veronica hated to sound so ungrateful. She seriously doubted she could even do one jumping jack without keeling over, but she’d humor her friend this one time. Truth was she really did need to lose weight.

On the drive over, Nellie told her about the gym. Her husband was now a member of the big gym by the mall, but he took kickboxing training once upon a time at the Fifth Street gym. He said it was just small enough that Veronica wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. Great. Nellie had told her husband what a fat pathetic hermit she’d become. “So when the guy outside the supermarket gave me the passes, I thought this would be perfect.”

Veronica didn’t even attempt to be as excited about this as Nellie seemed to be; though she suspected it was a bit of an act. They’d been best friends since they were kids, and she’d done everything to try and cheer Veronica up after her mother died. One thing Veronica knew about Nellie was that she hated working out. So, as usual, this was a completely selfless act on her part, all for the sake of pulling Veronica out of the cave she called her home. It was just one of the reasons that made Veronica love and appreciate her best friend even more.

When they arrived, they were both surprised to see there were no other women. Veronica peered at the ticket she held in her hand. “Are you sure this isn’t an all-male gym?”

Nellie didn’t look so sure herself but quickly disagreed. “That’s silly. I’ve never heard of an all-male gym.”

“I have.”

“Why would the guy offer me the passes if it was an all-male gym?”

Veronica looked around. It was a far cry from the gym at the mall that was for sure. For starters, the place was in great need of a paint job. There were a few treadmills and stair climbers on one end of the gym, four weight benches and weights on the other end, a rowing machine, lots of punching bags, and a big boxing ring in the middle of the gym. This was definitely a boxer’s gym.

She followed Nellie up to a man with a clipboard, who stood near the punching bags, and showed him the tickets. “We’re here for the free week of training.”

He was an older guy with a full head of graying hair. He looked them both over and smirked. “You ever train before?”

Veronica attempted to suck in her gut and stood up straight. What seemed like a lifetime ago, she was actually on her college tennis team. And before her mother fell ill, she used to get together with a few of her colleagues to play regularly. Now she dreaded what a little workout might do to her.

“No, not really, but we’re here to start,” Nellie said, her chin up.

The man glanced over to an open door where a few guys stuck their faces out, staring in their direction. As soon as they saw him looking, they jerked their heads back in. Veronica could hear them laughing. Wonderful. They were already being mocked, and she hadn’t even started jiggling her flab. This was going to be worse than she imagined. Veronica exchanged glances with Nellie before they both turned to the guy in front of them.

The man leaned over into a box next to him and grabbed two clipboards with small index cards on them. “Read and sign these. Lemme see what I can do.” He walked away toward the very door with the laughing guys.

Veronica tugged at Nellie’s arm. She’d already begun to read what appeared to be a liability waiver. “I don’t think this is such a good idea after all.”

“Stop.” Nellie’s tone was firm. “We’re going to do this for at least a week. You can’t stay cooped up in that house forever, Roni. I won’t have it.”

The idea of having one of those young guys, who were obviously already ridiculing them, stand over her and train her while she nearly passed out from doing a couple of sit-ups was really beginning to panic her. “Maybe you and I can just go walking every night, you know, at the park. We can do our own workout.”

Nellie arched an eyebrow. “No, you’re not getting out of this. It’s just one week. After that, we’ll decide what we’ll do. But for now, we’re doing this.”

Veronica sighed, defeated. Nellie wasn’t going to budge. Veronica knew how she could be once her mind was made up. Just as she finished signing the waiver, she looked up to see two more young guys enter the same room as the man they’d been talking to, then heard more laughter. Her stomach tightened even more now. She knew leaving the comfort of her home was a mistake.

~*~

Determined to convince Jack that he was ready to start training, Noah walked into the gym office with a purpose. As soon as he and Gio were in, the guys already there started laughing. Noah frowned. “What’s so funny?”

None of them said anything. Abel smirked, walking out of the office. Hector could barely contain himself. Jack was the only one not laughing. He held a clipboard and handed it to him. “You wanna train, Quintanilla? Today’s your lucky day. I got two out there that walked in with free one-week passes. You got a week to prove to me you can do this.”

Noah could hardly believe it. For nearly a year now, he’d been trying to convince Jack he could do training like the trainers that Jack so meticulously handpicked. First, Jack said he’d give him a shot when he turned nineteen; then when he turned nineteen almost a year ago, it’d been one excuse after another. Jack had hired him years ago as a maintenance boy. The pay wasn’t much, but he also got to work out at the gym and train with some of the other boxers for free. In exchange, he maintained the equipment, helped keep the place clean, threw the towels in the washing machine then dryer, and wiped down the exercise machines—no brainer stuff.

After watching other trainers for years, he knew he had it in him to train, and the pay was much better than his maintenance position. Since his shoulder injury had put his boxing on hold for at least another three months, going pro or even semi-pro, where he had the potential of actually making some money from his fighting, would be pushed out even longer. He needed this money now.

Noah threw his gym bag on the floor and glanced at the clipboard, still smiling. It was the standard workout sheet.

“They’re total beginners,” Jack said. “So you’ll have your work cut out for you.”

“Are they training to box?” Noah glanced at Hector, who held his fist against his mouth, stifling a laugh. “What’s with you?”

“Nothing.” He nearly squeaked the word out before hurrying out of the office.

Gio walked out of the restroom. He’d gone straight to it as soon as they got there, so he’d missed everything. “Ready to work out?” he asked.

“Nah.” Noah smirked, lifting the clipboard at him. “I’ll be training today.”

Gio’s brows went up. “Really?”

“They’re waiting,” Jack said. “You should get out there.”

Noah winked at Gio, who still looked surprised but smiled. If anyone knew how bad Noah wanted to move up to trainer, it was Gio. Not only did he know how bad Noah wanted it but how bad he needed the raise. Ever since he turned eighteen, he’d been paying his foster parents so he could continue to stay with them. They insisted he didn’t have to pay them, but it didn’t feel right.

Once he turned eighteen, the state stopped paying them to keep him there, and with four other foster kids and two of their own, he knew they needed the money. He’d even moved into their garage to make room for the new foster kid they picked up once they were no longer being compensated for him, but what he really wanted was to get his own place. That wasn’t going to happen with his maintenance-boy pay.

The gym was busy as usual, and tonight he noticed two women there when he walked in. That was rare. Although it wasn’t an all-male gym, it was known mainly as a boxing gym. Women came in once in a while, but most of the time it was with ulterior motives—they were there on the prowl. Most women, like most of the girls he went out with, preferred the fancier gym at the mall.

He glanced around as he stepped out of the office, searching for his would-be trainees. He saw a couple of unfamiliar guys punching a bag. Being there almost daily, he knew just about every one of the members, so he figured these two new faces were it. Leaning back into the office, he asked, “Is it the two guys by the punching bags?”

“No,” Jack said, stepping out and standing next to him. “That’s who you’ll be training.” He pointed at the two women he’d seen when he walked in.

Suddenly, Noah knew why the guys had been laughing. He turned back to Jack, wondering if this was a joke. Jack lifted a shoulder. “They’re here to be trained. So go train them.”

“For boxing?”

Noah knew girls who boxed, but these two women didn’t look in any shape for it. They weren’t even dressed appropriately. Loose fitting sweat suits were not going to cut it in the ring.

“I dunno. They didn’t say. Go find out.”

Noah glared at Jack. If this was Jack’s idea of a joke, he was going to be pissed.

“What?” Jack asked. “I really was looking to give you a shot at training this week. These two just happened to walk in today, and I got no one else available. So they’re women. What’s the big deal?” He smirked. “You might even score.”

Noah still glared at him. “Ha, ha.” They both looked old enough to have been married for years. “They’re probably in here to lose weight from the last kid they had.”

Finally moving his glare away from Jack, Noah glanced toward the women who stood awkwardly by the door. The heavier one seemed to be inching her way closer to the door.

“Get over there before they bail.”

Reluctantly, he walked away from Jack and toward the two women. As he reached them, the shorter mousy looking one smiled big while the heavier one stood a bit guardedly behind her, making no attempt to hide her unease. He reached out his hand to the mousy one. “Hey, I’m Noah. I hear you’re here to train.”

She shook his hand. “I’m Nellie,” she said then turned to her friend. “This is my friend Ron—” She stopped when her friend gave her a look. “Uh, Veronica.”

Veronica held her hand out, barely making eye contact with him before glancing away.

“We’re looking to get into shape. Neither one of us have worked out in a while, so you’ll have to go easy on us,” Nellie said, handing him the clipboards with their signed waivers.

Noah took them, laughing. “No such thing.” He noticed Veronica’s big eyes grow even bigger, but he wasn’t holding anything back. If this was his chance to prove himself to Jack, getting these two out-of-shape women even slightly trained would be quite the feat. “Might take more than a week, but Jack’s rates are more than reasonable. Not only that, he’s been known to extend the free period to a few weeks if you ask nicely.”

Both women stared at him then glanced back at each other. Nellie shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

“All right.” He smiled, trying to sound more sure about this than he felt. “Let’s get started. Follow me.”

He started filling out the workout sheets, writing their names down on the top of each sheet. When they reached the scale, he turned to face a wide-eyed Nellie, and Veronica’s face had nearly gone white. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re weighing us?” Nellie, who at this point seemed to be the spokesperson of the two, asked.

“Well, yeah. How else will we know by the end of the week if you’ve lost any weight?”

Veronica shook her head very slightly, but she finally spoke up. “I don’t wanna get weighed if that’s okay with you, Noah.”

It was only then that Noah realized it was the first time he’d heard her speak. Her voice was deep and husky and a little too firm. He smiled, noticing another thing about her for the first time. Even though she was about the same height as Nellie, she was anything but mousy. It wasn’t just because she was heavier either. Her highly arched eyebrows gave her a very confident appearance, almost too confident. Though at the moment, he was sure her arched eyebrows had nothing to do with confidence. She was trying to get out of being weighed. That wasn’t happening. If he was going to do this, he was doing it right.

“Actually, it’s not okay, Veronica. It’s part of the training; I gotta keep track of your progress.”

She crossed her arms in front of her, shifting her weight, and unbelievably, the eyebrow went even higher. “I’m not getting on that scale.”

“Oh come on, Roni,” Nellie said, slipping off her shoes. “What’s the big deal? I’ll go first.”

Roni? Noah ignored the name, but he had to smirk at Veronica’s exasperated expression. He stepped closer to adjust the weights on the scale and jotted Nellie’s weight down—right around what he thought for her height and body size—hundred thirty-nine. “Oh my God. I’ve actually lost a few pounds.” She turned to Noah, her smile dissolving when she saw his unimpressed expression. “Yeah, I know I need to lose more.”

“It’s a good thing you’re here,” Noah said, setting the weight back down to zero. He turned to Veronica. “Your turn.”

“I’m not getting on that thing.”

“Look.” He brought the clipboard down against his leg. “I can pretty much guess what you weigh just by looking at you. Why not get the exact number?”

“Because I’m not getting on that thing. So guess all you want.”

Noah stared at her stubborn lips, now pressed together tightly. “Fine—one sixty.”

Her jaw dropped momentarily, and she seemed genuinely scandalized, but she composed herself quickly.

“You two know how to stretch, right?” Nellie nodded, Veronica wouldn’t even look at him. “Great. Start stretching, standing up. I’ll go grab some mats so you can stretch on the floor too.”

He glanced again at Veronica, who was obviously still upset about his guess of her weight. She should be thankful. He’d been nice about it. Though he said one sixty, he wrote one sixty-five. Walking back to the equipment room to pull out some mats, he cursed Jack under his breath. This was going to be one long-ass week.