With a limp arm, I wave for them to go ahead without me so I can bail and hobble home with a tiny bit of dignity left, but Maureen meets my surrender with a cheery “The Heart and Sole motto is, ‘No runner left behind!’” God, I hate this spry woman I don’t even know.
With Maureen’s command, Daphne grabs Eric’s and my hands and dances through the intersection, pulling us along with her. Eric’s expression is not one of amusement, but of concern that he might face-plant at any moment. Getting in running shape isn’t easy for anyone. According to Eric, it’s also emasculating. His girlfriend is running in a much faster group—filled with all men.
“Way to go, y’all; we are over halfway through our run, my friends!” Daphne praises Eric and me, letting go of our hands and putting hers up for high fives when we reach the other side of the street. I have seen Daphne at least once a week at Mercy for over a year, and she neverused the wordfriend, but now that she is responsible for dragging my ass across the Wednesday-night finish line, she considers me a comrade?
We’re jogging in place on the corner, catching our breath, when Eric raises his eyebrows and informs me, “Best not to fight her enthusiasm. Daphne will keep that hand up until you slap it.”
“Facts, Eric. And I’ll also tell your mom you’re a party pooper if you leave me hanging.”
I wipe my arm across my forehead, then give Daphne what she’s waiting for. “Did I really just run over a mile and a half?” It’s true; I have been cheating on evenings with Lisa for fresh air and trips around my neighborhood, but so far, I haven’t been able to push myself across the fifteen-minute threshold. I glance at my watch. I’ve been moving faster than a mall-walking pace for over twenty-one minutes. It’s hard to compare this accomplishment to Quinn making partner at her law firm or Lisa turning slacker Gen Zs into true professionals, but I’m a little proud of myself, and I haven’t had something to feel pride in for quite some time.
“You sure did run that far, and without walking up the big hill. Now it’s all coasting back to the park. You got this.” I appreciate Daphne’s exaggeration of the size of the hill. We all know Sacramento is as flat as a pancake. What I’ve got is a cramp in my side, but I do not want to be the accused party pooper to Daphne’s hype.
As we pick up our pace, Chap and Maureen circle around from down at the end of the block to pick us up. Eric informs me it’s to make sure we don’t peel off to the brewpub a few blocks away.
As they approach, I see Maureen swat Chap’s arm and belt out a hearty laugh that reverberates through the streets. “Chap, enough. Let it go, once and for all. How many times have I told you I’m not interested?”
“What’s he trying to talk you into now?” Daphne sprints up to Maureen and Chap, hands on her hips, not wanting to be left out of the conversation.
“I’ll give you one guess.” Maureen shoots Chap a stern look, and the three fall into step together. Eric and I work to keep up right behind so we can catch snippets of the Heart and Sole Running Club chatter, something I never thought I would care to know but am now hopeful will keep my mind off my calves, which are starting to ache. I’ve just run farther than I ever have in my fifty-two years.
“Is he still trying to set you up with his uncle?” Daphne asks, poking Chap from one side while Maureen is hemming him in on the other.
“All the time. And it’s not going to happen, but this kid won’t take no for an answer.”
“Why not date him?” Eric pipes up from our back-seat status. I would not have taken him for a gossip, but I’m glad he asked, because I’m curious too.
“I practically raised this one into manhood,” Maureen claims, and points to Chap. “And his uncle into fatherhood, for that matter. I want new material to work with.”
I study Maureen. Maureen’s legs are solid, but they certainly aren’t skinny. Her hair has grown out gray, and her smile lines are deep, but when she runs, her body moves with an assurance that radiates her commitment to take up space in this world. I haven’t felt that self-possessed since the days I would stride across West 59th Street to Columbus Circle on my way to the CNN offices to meet the day’s breaking news. I wonder if I can even get it back.
“You’ve known Chap that long?” I huff out, surprised by my desire to be part of the conversation.
“I changed this kid’s diapers when he showed up in my preschool classroom.” Chap drops his head in embarrassment. “His uncle pulled a fast one on me. All the children entering the program I ran were supposed to be potty trained. The first day of school as Chap cried in the corner after being dropped off, I noticed his face was not the only thing that was wet.”
“Maureen, you’re killing my brand here!” Chap howls, then looks back at me. I cough uncomfortably. Is Chap worried about what I’ll think of him? Does he actually care?
“Anyway, it was only Chap and his uncle at that point, and it was clear to me they needed some female guidance, so I stepped in. I’ve been doing it ever since. For some reason I can’t help myself, I love the two too much. Case in point, Chap: I have a lasagna in a cooler in the back seat of my car for you to take home for dinner tonight. See? Can’t stop.”
“My uncle needs a lady,” Chap attempts to explain to me, the newcomer. “And Maureen is the only one I know who is, uh ...”
“Don’t you say it, Chap,” Daphne scolds at the exact moment Maureen throws a second blow to his shoulder. Their easy banter makes me miss John and Andrew. I can’t wait to text them that their mother ran a 5K, and by my estimation, I should be able to do exactly that in about eleven more minutes. I guess it is true: Running with others does make the time go by faster and with slightly less pain.
“Don’t say what?” I blurt out, wondering what it is Chap’s uncle needs. I’m thinking I might be about to get a juicy little tidbit or two on Maureen. I wonder if another rule of the Heart and Sole Running Club is that what is said on a run, stays on a run?
“Someone who’s single and seasoned,” Chap reveals, his youth preventing him from seeing the problem with his answer. Chap has to realize how old I am; therefore, his response doesn’t make sense to me, but I keep quiet.
Daphne’s eyes go wide, and her face brightens with enlightenment as she says, “I know. How about Callie?” Well, I guess now he knows my age, if Daphne has offered me up as a consolation prize for Chap’s uncle.
“Oh, I’m not dating,” I inform the group at a decibel I’m pretty sure lets the whole block know my relationship status.
“Are you sure?” Chap turns and asks, running backward again, giving me a slow wink as he rolls his lips together.
Maybe?I think to myself as we round the final turn back into the park.
Chapter Seventeen
November 1992
