Mary Fran sighed at Lucy’s question. “The usual. He claimed the promotion would mean less time on the road, but I don’t see it.”

Lucy put a stack of leftovers in the refrigerator, concerned by the fatigue in her sister’s voice.

“He said that’s just temporary, right?”

Mary Fran looked up from the sink. “I’m not falling for that again.”

“If you ask me, you look like you’re just plain ready to fall over.” Lucy’s mother hugged Mary Fran and suggested Lucy take her to the guest room for a rest.

“We’ll have dessert a little later.” Her mother gave Lucy a wink. “Pecan pie. Your favorite.”

Lucy sat on the edge of the guest bed and watched Mary Fran peel off her size 4 jeans and crawl under the handmade quilt. She tried to remember what it felt like to be a size 4 and take up this little space on a double bed, but her memory of second grade was fuzzy.

“So tell me about this trainer, Luce.” Mary Fran took a deep breath and pulled the quilt up under her chin. She looked pale. “Is she a weight-lifter chick? Or one of those aerobics instructor-cheerleader types?”

Lucy smiled a little, realizing that Fran hadn’t been inundated by the image of Lucy and Theo at metro stops. She also realized she’d never been asked to describe Theo to anyone.

Four weeks had now passed, which meant she’d made it through twenty one-hour training sessions. He met her at the door every weekday before dawn, wearing his trainer getup, never a minute late, always in good spirits. He was accredited out the yin-yang in everything from sports nutrition to exercise physiology. He was patient but pushed her to go a little higher, do a little more, every day. As a bonus, he remained the most searingly hot man-babe she’d ever laid eyes on.

“My trainer is a he, and he’s quite good at his job,” Lucy said.

Frannie looked at her suspiciously. “That cute, huh?” “Lord help me-I think I’m gonna die if I don’t get me some of that.”