Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(50)

High on newfound energy, Libby almost wasn’t ready for the treadmill to slow to a more sedate pace. She was raring to continue, to conquer new goals, to venture into territory she’d never thought to explore.

To Libby’s surprise, Robin removed her earbuds.

“I’m still upset with you,” she said, looking straight ahead.

“Are you speaking to me?” Libby asked.

“I shouldn’t.”

“But I hope you do. I miss you.”

Robin muttered again so low Libby couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“I am sorry,” Libby said. If nothing else, she wanted her friend to understand how deeply she regretted disappointing her.

“Of course you’re sorry … You should be.” Robin deliberately slowed the pace of her treadmill to match Libby’s.

“I realize how much you put yourself out for me and I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate it.”

Robin glanced at her and snickered. “Some appreciation.”

“You’re the best friend I have.”

More muttering. “You’re my best friend, too, and that’s what makes it so hard to stay mad at you.”

Libby looked away in order to hide a smile. She continued walking, going past the time allotted by the treadmill program. She was definitely earning exercise brownie points.

“Is there anything I can do to make this up to you?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Robin continued walking, speeding up her pace. “Let me think on that.”

“I’ll buy you breakfast,” Libby suggested. “I’ll get two buttery croissants at The French Cafe and personally deliver them to the courthouse.”

Robin hesitated, clearly tempted. “Too fattening.”

“Oh, right. I forgot we’re both trying to lose weight.” She thought to mention that she was down another two pounds, but if Robin hadn’t lost that much it would be like rubbing salt in an open wound.

“How about a fruit smoothie?” Libby offered.

“That’s a possibility.”

The woman on the treadmill on the other side of Libby shook her head as though disgusted with the two of them. “What’s with you two?” she demanded. “You sound like you’re in third grade. Whatever it is, get over it.”

Libby was too stunned to speak.

Not so with Robin. “Mind your own business.”

“Gladly, only I can’t help overhearing the two of you, and you sound like you’re both eight years old. Good grief, grow up.”

“Don’t talk to my friend like that,” Libby snapped. The woman could say what she wanted about her, but Robin was off-limits.

Hearing the exchange, a trainer came over to their section of the gym. “Is there a problem here, ladies?”

“Not at all,” Libby said, and glared at the other woman.

Libby finished her time on the treadmill and headed toward the dressing room. Robin followed her. The instant they were in the locker room, Libby burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Robin demanded.

“Us,” Libby said, shaking her head. “We were ready to come to blows defending each other to that woman.”

“She was rude and obnoxious to you. I’m not putting up with that.”

“But you’re angry with me, remember?”

“I was … I am,” Robin admitted as though she’d forgotten. “But you’re still my friend.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you.” Libby resisted the urge to throw her arms around Robin and hug her. “Can you find a way to forgive me?” she pleaded. “You’re my best friend in the world and it would crush me to lose you.”

Robin appeared to be considering her request while walking back to her locker. Deep in thought, she twisted the dial on her lock. It took her three tries to get it to open. When she finally did, she sighed expressively and said, “You ever pull a stunt like that again and I swear, Elizabeth Morgan, I will personally hunt you down and beat the snot out of you.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Robin shook her head as though disgusted. “Rocking babies?”

“I know, it sounds crazy, but the hospital had three sets of twins born within a four-hour period. It even made the evening news.”

“It’s nuts. You’re nuts.”

“You ought to try volunteering in the nursery sometime,” Libby suggested.

“Not me,” Robin insisted. “I’m not the type.”

“Did you ever think I would be the type?”

Robin grabbed her towel and headed toward the shower. “Can’t say that I did.”

“Me neither, yet it’s the most peaceful, wonderful thing to sit with those newborns and sing them Bob Dylan songs.”

“Bob Dylan?”

“And the Righteous Brothers and the Bee Gees and—”

“Poor things. They haven’t even left the hospital and already you’re twisting their young minds.”

Libby laughed and followed her friend into the shower room. “I’ll probably give it up soon. If nothing else, what happened with the interview showed me how far I’ve slipped lately. I need to get back on track.”