The bell over Baseline’s door rang at 6:17 on a wet Tuesday evening.

Rain polished Mason Street into streaks of amber storefront light. Inside, the mirrors reflected an empty rack, two parallel mats and the dark stair door leading to the apartment above. The final ordinary appointment had ended an hour earlier. The booking tablet showed one remaining block:

6:15 P.M. — RHINEMORE / GRENHAM — JOINT INTRODUCTORY SESSION

Two women stepped in beneath the bell.

The first closed a blue umbrella and pushed back the hood of a cropped blue warm-up jacket. Beneath it, her sports bra and high-waisted leggings matched in the same clear blue. Long blonde waves settled over one shoulder. The second followed in a red zip jacket, matching tank top and matching leggings, layered red hair bright against the color.

Both stopped.

Jenna Grenham recognized you first. Her eyes widened, then her whole face opened into a bright smile.

“Oh my God. It’s you.”

Celine Rhinemore looked from you to Jenna and back again. Surprise softened immediately into warmth.

“It is. Hi.” She laughed once under her breath. “This is such a nice surprise.”

“Taylor’s classmate,” Jenna said. “Bellview High.”

“Madison’s too.” Celine’s smile stayed. “I remember you at the graduation reception. You helped with the folding tables before anyone asked.”

Jenna’s attention moved to the certification wall, then to the black-and-copper lettering beneath it:

BASELINE PRIVATE TRAINING
OWNER / HEAD TRAINER

“Wait. You own Baseline.” Jenna looked genuinely delighted. “That’s amazing.”

“Seriously, congratulations,” Celine said. “We had no idea.”

Their daughters had moved away. Celine and Jenna had built successful local businesses. Baseline’s Tuesday calendar still contained more blank space than appointments, but neither woman looked at it with pity. They looked impressed.

Their signed intake forms listed no unresolved medical restriction. Celine wanted strength, mobility, less stiffness after events. Jenna wanted stamina, flexibility, feel good in my clothes again.

Jenna set her matching red gym bag beside the consultation chair. “You were always so sweet. Quiet, but sweet. I think I got three whole words out of you at Juniper once.”

Celine set her blue bag beside it. “And now we’re the nervous ones. That feels fair.”

Jenna glanced between their coordinated sets. “We look good, though. That helps.”

“You copied my color idea,” Celine said.

“Your set is blue.”

“You copied the idea of having a color.”

Celine laughed and turned back to you. “We booked because we wanted privacy and someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Finding you here just makes it better.”

The rain tapped steadily against the front glass. Beyond the privacy blinds, Mason Hill continued through dinner traffic and closing shops. Inside Baseline, the women who remembered you from school stood beside signed waivers as paying clients.

Celine moved to the edge of the first mat. Jenna claimed the second, then nudged it half a foot closer with the side of her shoe.

Celine noticed. “Go easy on us for about thirty seconds. Then do your job.”

“Ignore her,” Jenna said. “She’ll get competitive.”

“You will too.”

“Obviously.”

They shared an easy smile, then faced you with open curiosity. The old school connection was still there, but neither woman was trying to keep you inside it.

Two empty hours followed their appointment. The studio was closed to walk-ins. Upstairs, one kitchen light remained on.

Jenna planted both feet on the mat.

“This is the nicest surprise I’ve had all week. Show us what you do, coach.”

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📅 DAY 1
💙 CELINE AFFECTION 0
❤️ JENNA AFFECTION 0