The sky showed more signs that the darkness of night was steadily giving way to the dawn. The group of runners was still standing amidst the picnic tables casually passing their time. Lydia could hear scattered conversation from her hiding place in the trees. There was nothing to suggest that they were either leaving for a run soon or just taking their time cooling down from one they just finished. All she could do was hide in the shroud surrounding her tree like an obscured nude silhouette. The prospect of just walking up naked without a word and taking the key under the picnic table was growing perversely more attractive as the seconds ticked by.
Whatever she was going to do, Lydia felt that she needed to do it soon. She was still over a mile away from her house and, more importantly, her clothes since she had lost her dress in town along with everything else except her padlock keys. More people were bound to visit the park as the morning drew on. In the time she spent standing behind the tree line of the park, she had an opportunity to become intimately familiar with the aches in her muscles and the soreness in her feet. Not to mention the fact that she had not eaten in hours, so she was beginning to get hungry.
Ugh! It's not fair! When are they going to leave???
She saw that one of the women was texting someone and then suddenly pointed in Lydia's direction. Lydia pulled her head back behind the tree, afraid that she had been seen. Lydia's rational side reasoned that the woman was likely not pointing at her, but she was unwilling to bet against the possibility. Just then, her dark hiding spot was illuminated all at once by oncoming headlights. Lydia was so focused on the picnic tables that she had not considered moving further into the trees away from the road. By the time she turned her head, the car had already passed. It was a sporty red car that Lydia recognized.
Jen?!
Lydia figured that it made sense to see her friend her in the park doing a morning run with a group before she opened the gym. She just hoped that Jen had not seen her bent-over backside on the drive into the park. Trying to disturb as little of the crunchy undergrowth as possible, Lydia edged further from the road just in case she was in danger of putting herself on display for any other cars that might drive in. She watched Jen park her car, get out, and wave to the group. There was nothing about her behavior that suggested that she had seen a naked girl standing in the woods spying on the picnic tables.
"Hey guys! Sorry I'm late. I had to get some gas for the car. Is everyone here?" Jen called to the runners.
"No! Your boyfriend is missing, and we were waiting on you!" one of the women shouted back.
"Yeah, he's not going to make it today unfortunately," Jen explained in a lower voice as she got closer, but still audible to Lydia. "It's just us so we can get going anytime. I figure that it's close enough to six if you want to start stretching."
Six? As in 6:00am? I was hoping to be home by now...
"That works for us," one of the men spoke up. "Are we going to do a loop or an out-and-back?"
"How about..." Jen responded pensively, "How about we mix things up a bit and do two out-and-backs. I figure we can run a mile and a half one way, double back, and then run a mile and a half the other way. Then we can double back to here and call it a morning. Is everyone okay with six miles?"
There was a murmur of agreement among the group and Lydia felt conflicting emotions about their plan. The group was about to move off. This was good! Whichever way they went, Lydia could retrieve the picnic table key and finish her collection. But what if the group ran down the trail toward her house? Lydia would either have to bike slowly behind them and then move off-trail when they turn around, or just wait until they double back so that the trail would be clear. Waiting would cost her at least half hour, and the sun will have risen by then. Pedaling home in nature's majesty, clothed only in sunlight, sounded delightful in theory. However, Lydia knew it would be awful in practice as she would constantly be looking out for other trail-goers.
Conversely, the group could run the other way. Lydia could get her house key, bike the path home as quickly as she could, and hope to stay ahead of the runners. Waiting for them to finish their run and drive away from the park was out of the question. It would simply take too long. She could wait in the park bathrooms all day until the next night but that was not viable either. Lydia's hand unconsciously wandered to the smooth curve of her vagina and massaged gently with her fingertips, as if to remind her of the modesty that she needed to protect and how much her reputation was at stake. Lydia was not sure which awful alternative she preferred. She especially felt helpless knowing that she had no say in the matter. Lydia was startled back to attention when she heard a shout from inside the park.
"Okay guys, it's well past six now. Let's get going!" Jen called to the group.
The two men and four women jogged away from the picnic tables directly toward the paved trail. Since the trail cut through the park it was impossible for Lydia to tell which way they would go. Closer, closer, she watched. Finally, the group reached the trail and veered off to the right.
Yes!
Lydia jumped up and down in place, breasts bouncing along in her jubilee. After thinking about it, Lydia knew this was the best possible outcome. She smiled through the trees at this glimmer of good luck among her more recent misfortunes. Lydia watched as they jogged out of the park, down the trail, and out of sight. She waited until the park was quiet once more. Lydia could no longer hear the thumping of runners plodding down the trail. This was it. It was her one chance to get the last key.
Lacking cover, or even backup clothes, Lydia placed her hands across her chest and over her pelvis just in case the group doubled back unexpectedly. She sprinted through the park nearly skidding to a halt on the grass before the pavilion. Lydia quickly laid herself flat on the bench of the middle picnic table with her legs spread open, the chilly surface freezing against her exposed back. She felt entirely vulnerable in this demeaning position, but her goal necessitated it. The key was still under the table bound in place by a piece of tape. She internally rued the moment when, hours before, she had decided to leave the key there for safe keeping.
Not so safe after all, as it turns out. Not for me, anyway.