Who You Say I Am (A Jai Courtney Fanfic)

Chapter 95-Meg

Meg

I enter the Y early to set up for my low impact class today.  I wave to William and swipe my card at the time clock.
"It's good to have you back," he smiles. 
"Thanks.  It's good to be back," I reply. 
I put my things in the locker room before I walk over to storage and grab several stacks of mats, putting them on a cart.  I make a few trips since I looked into it and this is a full class compared to the other one.  I also grab a variety of weights, making a couple trips for those as well.  I organize the stacks and lay them out so it'll be easy for everyone to choose.  I take a mat for myself and set it up front.  Then I go through the music and select a playlist.  I grab the remote so I can bump the songs up to the speedier beat when we're ready, then slow it back down at the cool off and stretch time.  Everyone starts to trickle in.  I wave to them as they arrive. 
"Are you the new instructor?" an older woman asks. 
"I am," I smile. 
"Thank goodness.  You're punctual," she says happily. 
I laugh in surprise, "That, I am."
I notice as more and more arrive that the physical abilities vary—there are young, middle-aged, and older women.  There are a couple men.  Everyone's size varies as well with some in shape and others may tire quickly.  I think just about everyone is here and it's about time to get started so I tell everyone to grab a mat and spread out. 
"For those of you who feel like they need a bit more resistance, feel free to grab some hand weights.  Don't feel obligated though and also don't overdo it.  This is our first day together so you're welcome to use today to gauge whether you feel you'll need to step up your game.  Also, for those of you who feel like any exercise may be too much, there's no judgment here.  You're welcome to just walk in place or stop if you need to.  Don't ever feel like you have to push yourself harder than you're capable," I explain. 
I see several smiling faces.  They all get mats and I see two people grab the weights. 
"Okay, so I'm Megan and I'll be instructing you on Tuesdays and Thursdays," I continue with a brief introduction to the moves.  I'm about to turn on the music and get started when two women walk in the room.  I recognize them instantly and one does a double-take at me. 
I reintroduce myself once more and just ask them to grab a mat each for stretching at the end.  They have to head to the back of the room though since there's no more space anywhere else. 
"Okay, everyone spread out your mats.  We'll use it at the end but it'll help us to keep our space equidistant," I say. 
When they're all situated, I start the music and we're moving at a nice moderate pace to get our muscles warmed up.  I show them a few easy steps to get them moving.  I see a few of the ladies smiling.  These are fun, especially with a big group.  We pick up the pace and change the moves around.  They're all doing well and keeping up.  The movement gets a bit more challenging but still doable.  They're all keeping in step and this is a much more subdued pace than my class yesterday.  I see a few people sweating and so am I.  It is a good workout.  We're working on fitness and endurance.  For some it may be maintenance as well.  We continue on using the whole body, building muscle and burning fat.  I check our time and think it's about right to begin slowing the music and movements, so I change it up.  I explain how we're in the start of the cool down.  The older women are still smiling and doing well and I'm glad.  We continue to cool down, slowing and slowing the movements until we're ready for some stretching.  We stand first for a few stretches then we get on the mats.  When our workout is complete, I congratulate everyone for a great job today. 
We all wipe down the mats and roll them back up.  Everyone starts to leave and I get a few compliments from the ladies.  I notice the two women in the back whispering.  I tidy up the room and take the equipment back to the storage room, putting it all away.  I head to the locker room to shower.  There are more people in here today but most of them are about finished.  I grab my things and a shower opens up so I take it since there's no line.  I come out and the locker room appears to be empty.  I step up to my locker and open it, beginning to dress with the towel still covering me.  I have my undergarments on and my pants.  I take the towel off and grab my shirt. 
"So where's Jai?" one of the ladies from before asks me.  I slide on my top quickly. 
"He went home," I tell her.  I sit down and begin to put my socks on.
"Megan Wright, huh?" the other says snatching my ID out of my bag. 
"Yes," I say putting my shoes back on. 
"I think you're lying," the first lady says. 
"I don't lie," I respond. 
"So why did you two leave the bar, then?" she presses. 
"Because you made him uncomfortable following us," I say. 
The second one scoffs.  "It was probably you badmouthing us," she sneers. 
"Can I have my ID back, please?" I request holding my hand out for it. 
"No," the second one says. 
I blink in surprise. 
"Not until you give us his contact information," the other chimes in.  The two of them try to box me into place on either side of me.  I step on the bench and bolt between them, leaving my things out and run for William at the desk.  I explain what happened and he runs for the women's locker room telling security over the radio what's going on.  We find the two in the locker room dumping out the contents of my bag all over the floor and trying to hack my phone.  They look up at William and stop. 
"Please put her belongings down," he says authoritatively. 
"She just left them here," one defends. 
"That's not her story," he tells them. 
She scoffs, "Are you really going to believe this girl over long time members?"
"Megan has been employed here for over four years.  I think I trust her word over someone who's been here for about a month and had repeated complaints about indecency," he replies smoothly. 
Security enters the locker room and escorts the two women out.  I sigh in relief and realize how fast my heart is beating. 
"What else happened with them?" William asks me.  He's in management so I'm sure it's okay to tell him.  I explain everything, how they were talking dirty and walking around indecently before.  They were rude to me and then they followed Jai and me to a restaurant.  They tried to follow us as we left but we lost them.  I mention that they may have skipped out on their bill.
"Do you want to press charges for harassment?" he questions seriously. 
"No," I say shaking my head.
"They definitely won't be here again.  We're revoking their memberships," he informs me.  I nod in understanding and that's good enough for me.  He helps me pick up the mess on the floor and I stick my things back into my locker and close it up.  He walks me back out and I see someone new manning the desk.  He takes me back to the offices and I tell Wendy everything that has happened with them.  She assures me she'll take care of it.  I'm allowed to go back to the desk and I thank the newby—Evy—for covering.  She smiles at me and goes back upstairs to the fitness room. 
I finish my shift and the women have yet to be escorted out.  I walk down to the office to see if they need anything before I leave for the day.  They tell me I'm good to go.  I smile and head out. 
I arrive home and grab a quick bite to eat since I missed lunch.  I decide to grab my things and go to the lab early to get started.  I arrive there and ready the art paper I bought. I rip the edges of the large sheets carefully to give it a torn look. I look through my negatives and decide on sixteen images roughly. I'm surprised there seem to be so many useable ones. I make several extra sheets in case I mess up and a few for tests. I actually rip up the entire booklet of papers and go in the dark room to prep the cyanotype emulsion. I wipe it on clearly with the brushes in the center but sort of sloppily around the edges to create a similar effect to my previous series. I put up a sign when I finish so no one will enter and ruin my paper while I wait for it to cure.
I look at the time and figure it's close enough so I sit in the office and begin watching over the lab, occasionally getting out supplies for the students. A few people I know come and chat with me. I mostly read my Bible study and pray. I edit a few of my fanfics and publish some chapters feeling oddly detached.
When my shift is up, I prep my black and white chemicals for paper processing. I print contact sheets from each roll and I bring them out of the darkroom to decide which ones specifically to use. I dry the two papers with a hair dryer since I don't care what they look like or if they curl. I use a loupe to examine the images and I circle which ones I'm going to use. I actually do decide on the sixteen of my head shots. I look closely at a couple and realize my crying face looks just like Tabby's when she's upset. I frown at how cute she is and I actually do look just like her. I go through the two rolls of infrared film. These actually look incredible and the effects from the film type really change the atmosphere. I can't even circle many, I just cross out a handful of them that I don't want and print the rest. I set up my enlarger and spend some serious time printing off my images and processing them by hand. I also make prints of my headshots for the cyanotype process.  I hang up my photos from several lines to drip dry a bit until I'm finished. When I'm done, I stick them into the photo dryer and place the infrared ones back into an old empty paper box of mine for transport.  I make contact prints from the headshots to create a sort of large negative for the cyanotype process since it must be a contact style print.  I dry those as well and pack them away.  I realize I'm the last one here and I close up the lab, cleaning the units I used and picking up the darkroom mess.
I check on my alternative process paper and carefully touch some of my test strips. They're dry. I do the same with the others, attempting not to touch them much since the oils from my fingers aren't good for them in the archival scope of things but they feel dry. I put them in the black plastic bag I have leftover from the photo paper and carefully tuck them into an old photo paper box of mine so it stays light tight. I check once more in the darkroom to make sure I didn't miss anything before I make sure my box is closed. I turn on the brighter light and sigh in relief that I got everything packed away. I tape the box shut with black electrical tape just to be sure and so I won't accidentally open the wrong box—that would be terrible.  This process is more forgiving than others but I still want to be cautious. I close up the lab and turn the lights off.
I arrive home holding my stack of boxes and supplies. My mom is at the kitchen counter drinking her tea.
"What's that?" she asks.
"I volunteered at the lab at school and I figured I'd use the facilities," I tell her.
"So, you're working on your art again?" she asks me excitedly.
I shrug and nod.
"Can I see?" she inquires.
"Just this one. This paper isn't ready," I explain separating the boxes. I open the box of black and white photos and show her the cityscape ones.  I mention that the others aren't ready yet.  I handle the pictures by the edges myself since my mom has a habit of putting her fingers on them. I show them to her and she stays quiet. "What do you think?" I ask after I've shown her the whole box.
"They're incredible," she tells me. She asks me how I got them to look like that and I explain how infrared film can alter the appearance of a picture. "What are you going to do with them?" she inquires. 
"Well, I ran into a professor of mine at the peristyle the other day and she thought I should submit one of my series's to a gallery.  I actually found the flyer she gave me in my pocket and figured it would be worth a shot.  So I sent it in," I explain shrugging. 
"Where's the gallery?" she asks. 
"Chicago," I reply. 
She smiles.  "You know, that's where I met your father," she tells me. 
"Yeah, I know," I say softly.  She was studying at the culinary institute and he was on a business trip.  It was an accidental encounter.  I can see the nostalgic expression in my mother's eyes every time I bring it up.  I smile and wish I had that kind of experience. 
"There's... something I never told you about our first week together," she tells me hesitantly. 
I encourage her to continue. 
"We spent that whole week together as you know but when your father had to go back home, he told me what he believed," she explains.  "It was difficult for me because I know he wouldn't be welcomed into my parents' house and definitely not the family.  I refused to give him my phone number, you know, since that's how people communicated back then... well, and letters of course.  He came back a month later searching for me.  He switched jobs just to be near me.  When he found me, he wouldn't take no for an answer.  He told me he loved me.  I was so moved by how passionate he was.  I just couldn't resist him because I loved him, too.  I even joined him at church eventually.  It seemed so real and true and different, but yet the same, you know?  I didn't tell my parents about him until we were together for a while.  I got baptized into the church and then we went to Minnesota to visit my parents.  He asked my father for permission to marry me and my father asked him his background.  Your father told them he was a Christian.  My parents were upset that I invited a Gentile into the house.  I left with him and we got married."
I nod knowing the rest.  I knew some of this but not all. 
"We all have our trials, Nutmeg.  Yours isn't too different from mine.  Jai just has to come to his senses and see what's real and what's not," she tells me. 
I nod but I do feel the tears spilling over.  She holds me as I cry.  I'll just keep praying for him.