Kitty snorted as she looked at her phone, not hearing Mia’s question. “Look.” She showed us the string of brightly colored emojis filling the screen. “She’s totally freaking out.”
I was relieved. Mia and Kitty were happy, and Greyson seemed to be a good distraction. I thought about what Alex had said that morning about there being a reason for everything. I still didn’t believe that. But maybe he was right about all our coincidences being fate, and maybe it had nothing to do with either of us.
Seven
Two weeks after the girls had arrived, I woke up earlier than usual, chugged a mug of coffee, and laced up my new running shoes, ready for my first day of marathon training. On my way out the door, I clicked off the TV, which Mia and Kitty had left on all night.I just can’t sleep without it, Kitty had said that first night, and though it wouldn’t do my electric bill any favors, I didn’t push the issue. I could guess why she needed it.
I closed the door quietly behind me and eased into a jog, heading across the parking lot toward South Ocean Boulevard. My legs resisted me. Floating in the ocean was my preferred form of exercise, but I had a marathon to prepare for and no time to waste.
Since Mia and Kitty had arrived, I’d made minimal progress on the list. And by minimal, I mean none. The only thing I’d checked off was skinny-dipping, which hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Something thathadworked out like I’d hoped was Greyson, who’d become Mia and Kitty’s greatest source of entertainment. She was a frequent visitor at the condo, joining us for beach days and dips in the pool. Almost every day when I arrived home from work, I found her on the couch between Mia andKitty, the three of them talking away as if they’d been friends forever. The only drawback of this was that wherever Greyson went, messes followed. A few days earlier she’d knocked over one of my grandmother’s teapots while doing a cartwheel in the living room. Fortunately, I wasn’t much of a tea drinker and was planning to get rid of it when I got to item number twenty-two—declutter the condo—but poor Greyson had tears in her eyes, apologizing as she scrambled to pick up the pieces. I didn’t mind the messes much. Greyson had a way of lifting the energy in any room she stepped into, which was worth a hundred teapots, especially this summer.
Five minutes into my run, a stitch formed in my side, and my lungs burned with the effort of breathing. I wheezed past rows of condos and was nearly bowled over by a cluster of power-walking old ladies decked out in orthopedic sneakers and matching tracksuits. Twenty minutes in and I found myself doubled over in the middle of the sidewalk, nearly blinded by the mixture of sweat and sunscreen dripping into my eyes.
The night before, Greyson had told us about theeasyseven-mile run she and Alex had done that morning. Twenty minutes later, Kitty had handed me her phone with a marathon-training plan that made me question why I’d put this on the list in the first place.
“This will have you ready in twelve weeks, which we don’t have,” Kitty had said. “So maybe skip the first few weeks. If you do the race on your birthday—”
“There’s no way I’m running a marathon on my thirtieth birthday.”
Kitty had narrowed her eyes at me. “Fine. Take off another day.” She’d glanced at the phone. “Now you’ve only got to do four miles tomorrow.”
Mia had cackled from the couch.
“Four miles isn’t so bad,” Greyson had said. “When I was running track at my old school, we had to do five miles every practice. Just make sure you breathe in through your nose.” She’d demonstrated, lifting her hands toward her face as she breathed in. “And out through your mouth.” She’d lowered her arms quickly, blowing hot air into my face.
“Four miles. I can do that.” It wasn’t like I was completely out of shape. I spent my days racing around a 150-foot superyacht, after all.
When I’d created the list that night in Mitch’s, I’d wanted to challenge myself. I’d envisioned becoming one of those people with oval-shaped magnets on their car highlighting the miles they’d run. But now I realized I could’ve bought the magnet and put it on my car anyway.
I made it only two miles before I gave up and called an Uber to drop me off at the edge of the condo parking lot, hoping the girls wouldn’t see me. Which, fortunately, they didn’t. But as luck would have it, when I got out of the car and passed the mailboxes, wincing with each step, there was Alex with a stack of envelopes in his hand and looking like Colin Firth in that lake scene fromPride and PrejudiceNina had forced me to watch. Only Alex was drenched in sweat (likely from his own run) and wore a nylon shirt that stuck to his chest (instead of billowy white linen).
“Hey,” he said, tugging his headphones from his ears and looking from me to the Uber that looped around the parking lot. “I see the marathon training is going well.”
I leaned against the wall, still struggling to catch my breath. “Yeah, well. We can’t all be Usain Bolt.”
“You know he’s a sprinter, right?” Alex said.
“I did not. Which only proves my point.”
Alex laughed, and I wasn’t sure if he was laughing with me or at me. He probably thought I was pathetic.Who gets an Uber in the middle of a four-mile warm-up run?
“I hate my past self,” I said.
“I think a lot of people feel that way.” Alex walked alongside me until I made it to my door. “But don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about the Uber.”
Alex and I had become fast friends in the two weeks we’d worked together. With him in the galley, there was always music, and dancing, and food like I’d never seen before. Duck hearts with mushroom floss and spiced broth. Deconstructed mackerel and wildflowers and ramp puree.Every dish looked too pretty to eat, though that didn’t keep me from drooling whenever I stepped into the galley. Because of the food, of course.
But as we stood before my door, an awkward silence passed between us. Unlike his daughter, Alex had made himself scarce outside of work. I caught occasional glimpses of him when he waved Greyson up from the pool, or in the mornings when they ran side by side from the parking lot. We left for work at the same time each morning and returned at the same time in the afternoon. But other than that, we didn’t interact outside of work. It was odd speaking with him outside of the galley, and part of me wondered what he was like off the boat, not as Chef Alex but as the Alex I’d met at the bar.
“Well, it was nice seeing you,” I said.
“Uh, Jo?”
“Yes?”
“Sorry about the teapot. Greyson told me. Let me know how we can replace it.”
I waved him off. “Really, I was getting rid of it anyway. It wasn’t worth anything.” Not exactly true. It was worth at least a few hundred bucks according to my eBay search, but he didn’t need to know that.
