Fool's Gold Collection Part 1: Chasing Perfect / Almost Perfect / Sister of the Bride / Finding Perfect
you should bring your camera next time and we’ll take pictures to prove it.”
“You’d do that?”
“Sure. For a hundred bucks a pop.”
Brandon’s mouth dropped open.
Josh laughed. “I’m kidding. Yes, I’ll take pictures with you and the other guys. You can load them on your Facebook page.”
“Sweet.” Brandon glanced at him, then away.
Josh wondered if he had more he wanted to say.
The pace picked up a little. Josh easily kept up with everyone.
“You, um, work out, right?” Brandon asked.
“Sure.”
“Coach has me doing some weight lifting, but I’m not…” He looked around at the other guys, as if judging how many of them could hear. “I need to put on some muscle.”
“How old are you?” Josh asked.
“I’ll be seventeen in three months.” Brandon sounded excited by the fact.
Josh tried to remember the last time he’d been thrilled to be getting older. It had been a while.
“In the next couple of years, you’ll start to put on some serious muscle,” he told the teen. “Don’t push too hard on the weight training until you’re done growing. A lot of guys do that, but what they don’t realize is all that muscle keeps the bones from growing as much as they should. They can lose a couple of inches of height that way.”
“I’m already six feet,” Brandon told him. “But my dad says the men in our family stop growing early.”
“When you’ve stabilized your height, you’ll start picking up muscle. Don’t forget there are more ways to get strong than just lifting weights. Off-season riding is all about conditioning. This winter you should ride inside a few times a week. Alternate between high rpm workouts and low rpm workouts. High-cadence workouts help you learn to contract and relax your muscles quickly. You’ll move in the pack better and be able to dig deep for a sprint. Low-cadence workouts on a high gear build muscle.”
Josh grabbed his water bottle and took a drink. “You also need to work on your whole body. Use the winter months for different kinds of sports. Skiing is great. Take a yoga class once a week. You’ll stretch your muscles, improve your balance and it’s a great way to meet girls.”
Brandon laughed. “Yoga?”
“I’m serious. It will help with your riding and girls love a cyclist’s ass.”
Brandon’s cheeks turned red. “Good to know,” he mumbled.
Josh held in a chuckle.
One of the other guys dropped back to join Brandon and asked Josh his opinion on a bike he was thinking of buying. They discussed equipment until Coach Green drove up and blew his whistle.
Conversation immediately stopped as the guys rode faster. The pack spread out a little as they turned onto a mountain road and headed straight up. Josh stayed on the left rear, watching the other riders. But this time, instead of feeling the panic, he noted their technique. One guy jerked his bike back and forth, wasting energy and adding distance. Brandon was an intense rider, but he was late with his gears, taxing himself more than necessary. Most of the other riders did the same.
Without thinking he yelled, “Everybody stop. Stop where you are.”
The guys looked at each other before slowing to a stop. They straddled their bikes and looked at him. He pointed at the teens one by one and gave each of them a critique. When necessary, he demonstrated the wrong way, then the right way.
“Now we’re going to ride up the hill together,” he said. He explained the gear sequence and why he made the choices he did. Then they started riding together.
Josh found himself in the center of the pack. He called out instructions and the other riders crowded around him. One kid nearly ran into him.
His heart seemed to stop in his chest. The tightness began in his gut, spreading out in every direction. Breathing was impossible as the panic claimed him.
Not now, he thought grimly, swearing silently. Not like this.
“Squirrel,” one of the guys yelled as a squirrel darted across the road in front of them.
“Watch each other,” Josh yelled instinctively. “You don’t want to hit the squirrel, but you don’t want to go down, either. Be aware of where you are.”
They were nearing the top of the road. He knew in another mile it would turn and provide a gradual descent back to town.
“When we start down, I want you to keep your speed under thirty miles an hour.”
“What?”
“No way.”
“Going fast is the best part.”
Josh ignored them. “You’re going to practice breaking out of the pack. Call out numbers.”
Brandon yelled one, a second guy yelled two, until they’d counted through the team.
“That’s the order,” Josh said. “Start in the middle of the pack and work your way to the front. You get a minute of glory, then move over and drop to the back. Is that clear?”
Everyone nodded.
They reached the crest and the road started down. Brandon moved to the center of the pack.
Josh was aware of everyone’s placement. The kids didn’t ride close enough to really get in the way, but this would still be good practice. When Brandon—
He kept pedaling even as his mind did a double take. Wait a minute. He’d been in the middle of a panic attack. He’d been seconds away from losing it completely. What the hell had happened?
He replayed the events, realizing the squirrel had distracted him so completely, he’d forgotten about his symptoms. Apparently without his tension feeding them, they faded of their own accord.
It was the first glimmer of hope he’d had in two years. It meant there was a chance he could conquer this. That he could go back and be everything he’d been before. He didn’t have to be afraid.
He sat up on his bike and started to laugh. The sound echoed off the sides of the mountains around them. One of the kids looked at his friend.
“Old people are weird,” he muttered.
Josh grinned. “We sure are.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHARITY CLICKED TO the next screen on her computer. “Now we move into the lifestyle part of the show,” she said. “I’ve uploaded an assortment of real estate listings. Everything from starter homes and condos to doctor-priced beauties on the lake or the golf course.”
She clicked again. “Here’s a few pictures of the wineries, looking pretty. The ski lodge, the awardwinning restaurant. For local flavor we have the farmer’s market, the Fourth of July parade and the obligatory sunset picture.”
The latter showed a family walking by the lake. Dad held a little girl, Mom held the hand of a little boy. The figures were silhouetted against a beautiful orange and red sunset.
“Very nice,” Marsha said, from her seat next to Charity. They were in the mayor’s office, reviewing Charity’s presentation. “What about the financial package?”
Charity went over the information for the hospital itself—tax breaks, potential grants, how much the state, county and city would kick in.
Marsha smiled. “You’ve done your homework,” she said approvingly.
“I’m determined. Fool’s Gold is absolutely the best