Looking for Mr. Goodbunny by Kathleen O'Reilly

Author:Kathleen O'Reilly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2006-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Monday’s appointment with my group was at the reservoir in Central Park. A time-out for exercise, in order to revitalize our minds and our souls. JFK once said that the lack of exercise in America was a menace to society. ’Course, he said that in 1960, when the Cuban Missile Crisis was just a twinkle in Castro’s eyes.

But today wasn’t about Castro, or missiles, or dead presidents. No, it was about the joys of nature. The park in April was gorgeous, sporting every color in the rainbow: greens, yellows, pinks, oranges, and purples. There were daffodils everywhere and the scent of the magnolia trees heavy in the air.

However, I wasn’t here to sightsee. Today was all about feeling the burn.

In the spring, the sleeves came off, midriffs were bared, and sweaters were no longer required. Barbara and Tanja both needed firming up, and I figured the exercise would do Joan good, too.

I had changed into my best gray sweats and was doing my warm-ups up when Tanja jogged up, wearing the glow of success. I immediately knew something was akilter.

“Guess what I did today,” she said, not expecting an answer. Of course, I spit out the most preposterous thing I could think of.

“You put an ad in Missed Connections,” I said, a gentle reminder that in order to achieve our dreams, we actually do have to lift a finger, and not that finger, neither.

Her mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

“Oh. My. Gawd. You really did it?” Immediately we were jumping up and down like a couple of little girls. A man gave us a leer, so I stopped. As soon as the perv was gone, I gave her another hug. “Tanja, I’m so proud! Tell me everything.”

She started to talk, but I felt we should wait and share the success with the others, possibly inspiring them to try something radical on their own.

Five minutes later, when I was dying to hear all the details, Joan and Barbara finally made it. Joan looked fab in a white running suit, with a subtle yet sparkling line of silver running down the seams. I felt shamed until I glanced over at Barbara, who looked frumpy, like me, but in a more comfortable, stylish way.

I gave her a smile. “Tanja has some news. Tanja, share,” I ordered, deciding to start the session off on an uplifting note.

“Now it’s my turn?” She clasped her head in her hands. “I saw this man on the F train this morning. He was, like, looking at me, you know? And he had the good smile, his teeth were a little crooked, maybe some coffee stains, and then he had this curly dark hair, and skinny. But not in a druggy way, I can’t stand that. When he looked at me, at first I looked away, but then it was, like, you know, magnets. I had to look at him. He caught me looking, and so I looked away, but then I looked back, and he was looking again.

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