Part 3 (2/2)
”Leave that to me, Blondie. First things first. Practice makes perfect. We won't have a prayer out there if you aren't up to the task. Meet me below the dam on the spillway side at 7 sharp tomorrow morning. They have a decent bike path there. Lots of hills to challenge us.”
”Hills?” I gulped. ”I think we'd better start out with something a little more...beginner-friendly,” I suggested. ”You know. Fewer turns. Less of a grade.”
Van Vleet looked at me and shook his head.
”Have it your way. Shady Rest Cemetery. Seven A.M.”
”Shady Rest...Cemetery?” I swallowed.
”Little traffic. Even fewer witnesses.” He grinned. ”Dress appropriately. And come prepared for a very long workout.”
”But it's gonna be like a hundred degrees tomorrow!” I could detect a nasally whine in my voice.
”Geez, Turner. It's starting to sound like you're the one who should bow out gracefully. Or should I say, gratefully?” Van Vleet observed, an amused look spreading across his face. ”I get it. You're not up to the task. No shame in backing out. No shame at all.”
Great. Just what I needed. A game of chicken on a tandem.
”I'll be there. With pedal pushers on,” I said, with a lift of one brow.
”Oh, and one more thing, Blondie,” Van Vleet added as I turned to leave.
”Yes?”
”No boots allowed.”
I supposed that went for spurs, too.
CHAPTER FOUR.
A cemetery was no place to experiment with tandem cycling, (Okay, so I didn't want to tempt fate.) and I had arranged to meet Drew Van Vleet at the county park instead. The park has a nice, wide paved road that winds its way around a modest-sized pond. The baseball and softball fields are located at the top of a long hill. Since Craig was a star pitcher on the high school team, and I was an okay softball third baseman, we'd spent a lot of time at the park. Plus they have all kinds of cool playground equipment, a couple of covered bridges, and a totally cool pioneer village that includes a little white church, a little red schoolhouse, a stagecoach inn, and a used-to-be train station.
Rather than watch Craig save the day-or I guess in his case, the game-I'd spend my time nosing around the historic village, seeing how high I could go on the swings, or pestering the temperamental geese that inhabited the park. Hold on. Don't go PETA-cidal on me here, folks. The goose-baiting was strictly payback from being psychologically scarred as a child from the renegade band of felonious fowl who found extraordinary delight in chasing me around the park and pecking at my backside. They gave as good as they got. Honest.
Thankfully, it was a weekday. The campgrounds wouldn't be quite so busy, and the ball fields wouldn't start seeing ball players until later in the day.
He'd get our transportation to the park, Van Vleet said. I wasn't sure how he planned to accomplish this. I chewed my lip. Could a person ride a tandem alone? Possible, I supposed. Advisable? Uh, not so much.
I had my answer almost immediately when a black pickup swung into the gravel lot where I was parked and working my way through a sausage, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich paired with a Diet c.o.ke. A pickup pulled alongside me. When I spotted the bright red tandem in the truck bed, my breakfast quickly lost its appeal.
”Well, well, well. What do you know? She actually showed,” Van Vleet said from the cab, yanking his sungla.s.ses off, his eyes narrow slits of amus.e.m.e.nt. ”I'd have taken bets you wouldn't be here, Turner. I have to hand it to you. Your capacity for self-abas.e.m.e.nt is impressive.”
Translation: I was a glutton for punishment.
Seriously? Like I haven't heard that before.
”What took you so long?” I asked. ”For a minute there I was ready to send out a posse to hunt you down, pilgrim.”
”Yeah, right,” Van Vleet said, shaking his head. ”Calamity Jayne and the Grandville Geriatric gang in hot pursuit.” He put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. ”The visuals that brings to mind.”
I watched Van Vleet pull the endgate down and haul himself up into the back of his truck. He maneuvered the elongated bike towards the tailgate.
”A little a.s.sistance, if you don't mind,” he said, and I stuffed the last of my breakfast in my mouth before moving to the back of the truck.
”Uh, who picked the color?” I asked, and helped lower the heavier than expected fire truck red bike to the ground. ”Red really doesn't do much for me.”
”Beats me.” Van Vleet jumped down from the bed of the truck. ”They probably borrowed the bike. This isn't what you'd call a heavily financed operation, in case you thought otherwise.”
”But does it have to be red?” The bike I'd performed the triple double on had been red, too. Not exactly an encouraging omen.
”Who cares what color it is? I'm more concerned with how well it rides.”
Oh. Yeah. There was that.
”Has the bike been checked out?” I asked. ”You know. By a certified bike shop? Someone who knows what they're doing?”
He shrugged. ”Guess we'll soon find out, won't we?”
Nice.
”You did bring a bike helmet.”
”Of course.” Actually, I'd lifted Taylor's helmet from a shelf in the folks' garage. I figured. Why spend money I didn't have for something she wouldn't miss and I'd likely never want to lay eyes on ever again?
I wrinkled my nose and picked the black helmet up and set it on my head. Leave it to Taylor to pick a boring color. I could hear it now: What's black and white and red all over? Tressa Turner on TribRide.
I fumbled with the straps, having difficulty getting the blasted thing fastened.
”Uh, Einstein. You have your helmet on backwards,” Van Vleet pointed out.
I rotated the helmet, cinched the straps, and leveled an annoyed look at my pedaling partner.
”So, what makes you such an expert? You don't seem like the bike type to me.”
Van Vleet fiddled with the bicycle.
”I ride,” he said.
Was I imagining it-or had he lost a bit of his swagger?
He fastened his own bike helmet on his head-a s.h.i.+ny silver number-took hold of the bike's handlebars and swung a leg over the bike, settling his bike-shorts-clad f.a.n.n.y on the front seat of the bike.
”Climb on, Calamity.” Van Vleet nodded towards the seat behind him. ”Let's see what you can do.”
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