Purpose by Kristie Cook Page B

Alexis.”
    “I need to be, Mom. I’m sure I’m fine.
Besides, Owen’s been around.”
    She ignored the as-if-you-didn’t-know-that
tone to my voice. “How are you doing physically? Are you eating and
sleeping?”
    “No, not exactly.” I shrugged, though she
couldn’t see it. “But I physically feel great.”
    “Like what ?” She almost sounded
alarmed. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
    “I don’t know, just energetic, I guess. I
feel like I need to move a lot.”
    “Like your sudden interest in running?”
    “Yeah, exactly. It’s exhilarating.”
    “Anything else?”
    I debated whether to tell her how the
intensity of my senses seemed to have increased exponentially. I
decided not to. It seemed weird, but not my normal freakiness.
Weird as in…maniacal.
    “No. Why?”
    She kept silent for a moment. “I’m sure it’s
nothing,” she finally said. “You’ve been under a lot of emotional
stress and I’m sure your body is just reacting to it.”
    “Finally in a good way, I guess. My pooch is
almost gone.” I rubbed my hand over my stomach. It was much smaller
already.
    “Just take care of yourself, Alexis. And
please tell me anything that’s going on. I need to know these
things. I can help you through them, you know.”
    “Sure, Mom. So how’s Dorian?” I got her to
change the subject and heard all about their days without me. She
handed Dorian the phone so he could tell me he loved and missed
me.
    Grief hit me again when I hung up and
remembered I was still alone. The only other time I’d ever been
alone overnight in my entire life was when Mom went out of town
that one weekend…that one glorious weekend…when we became a couple.
Remembering that extraordinary chapter of my life, I made my rounds
to the special places in the house and let myself cry it out. I saw
his face clearly as I dozed off.
    Burning pain surged through my muscles and
nerves, waking me up. I rolled and thrashed in the bed, not able to
get comfortable, my muscles and joints tight and throbbing. I got
up twice to take a pain reliever, but it didn’t help at all. When I
finally fell asleep again, I awoke gasping from the intensity of
the burn. I felt the consequences of those runs when I’d been so
out of shape, physically paying for those stupid impulses. I
finally fell into a more comfortable sleep just long enough to
enjoy the memory-dream.
    When I woke up at five, I felt completely
refreshed. In fact, I felt unusually strong, both physically and
mentally. The burning in the night was a distant memory. I ran
around the property several times since I had nowhere else to
safely run, then I went for a long swim, pushing myself harder on
each lap I made parallel to our private beach. I felt good. It’s
like my body is becoming more powerful by the minute, like it’s changing .
    That thought rushed me out of the water and
back inside.
    I stared at myself in the mirror for what
seemed like hours, twisting and turning my body to study it from as
many angles as I could. The woman staring back at me no longer
looked fifty-something. My reflection looked completely different
than it had just a week earlier. A spark of life shone in my eyes.
Color brightened my skin again. Although wet, my hair felt thicker
and the grays had disappeared. Even with less sleep and intense
emotional strain, the dark circles under my eyes were hardly
noticeable. The wrinkles were shallow, almost invisible.
    And my body … I didn’t understand, but
the running and exercise—and forgetting to eat—had dramatically
reversed the damage I’d done. The pooch had shrunken into just a
shadow of its former self. My hips and butt were noticeably
smaller. No wonder I had to keep hitching up my shorts. Even my
breasts looked almost back to normal. And perkier . They were
almost pre-baby.
    Should I call Mom? I debated the
question for quite a while. In the end, I decided not to. After
all, I’d been through hell this week. My body just reacted in