“Not stealing my life’s dream is my main prerequisite.”
“Well, yeah. I guess. But what is it, really? Because this isn’t just about the Jingle Run. Or his starting a running club in Elkridge or even the event he’s planning.”
Steph was quiet for a moment. A hedge rustled. A bird, probably, or the Wyoming wind picking up. “Men are trouble,” she finally said. “In my experience, they need more than I can give. Or I give too much and lose myself in the process. Or I want the wrong things for the wrong reasons. I watched myself stay in something too long because I wanted the picture. The house, the life, the—” She stopped.
“Chris,” Jocelyn said.
“I wanted the future I thought I was supposed to want. And I made decisions from that place instead of from reality.” She tapped her fingers on the railing. “That’s not good judgment. I don’t trust my own instincts when it comes to this.”
“You ended it.”
“Several years too late.”
“Maybe. But you ended it.” Jocelyn’s voice was even. “That counts for something.”
Steph shrugged one shoulder. She ended it because it was the right thing to do, and look what it got her. She was still in the same place, and Chris was married and expecting a child.
“You want a family,” Jocelyn said.
“Someday.” She turned the word over, refusing to admit that someday needed to be sooner rather than later. “Or I always thought so. Maybe that’s not the path for me.”
“It could be.”
“Jocelyn.”
“I’m serious. Can you honestly tell me you can’t picture yourself with a baby?”
“I don’t have time for a baby.” A lie. She knew it, and so did Jocelyn. Steph would adjust her entire life for a baby.
“Things would change, sure, but really not that much.” Jocelyn smiled. “I can see it now. You coming in at the end of an ultramarathon. The announcer sounding off: Steph Pierce, Irma, Wyoming. And that’s her baby, Tiny Pierce, strapped to her chest.”
Steph laughed. “That tracks. And somehow I can picture it. Though I’ll admit, carrying a baby for an actual race might break some rules, but it makes sense for training runs. Which probably tells you everything you need to know about my priorities.”
Jocelyn laughed. “Your priorities are fine. Besides, you’d have all of us. The running club would love a tiny member.”
Steph smiled despite herself. She knew it was true. In a lot of ways, the running club was a family—Jocelyn, Joe, the others at the house, even the newer members who had slipped so easily into the group. And Gina and Brooke, too, who were spending Thanksgiving with their boyfriends and Brooke’s dad and brother.
They met every Wednesday to run, but that was only part of it. There were long weekend runs, dinners, movie nights, and all the small moments in between. Some romances had started within the group, others outside of it, and the ones that lasted understood that the club came as part of the deal.
Steph was starting to see that family didn’t have to look just one way.
No, that wasn’t right. She knew that. She just kept forgetting it.
“You’re dodging the issue,” Jocelyn said after a moment.
“I know.”
“Dodging Jack specifically.”
She glanced toward the condo. Inside, through the glass door, she could see the shapes of people moving through Joe’s living room, glasses in hand, laughing at something. It was a good afternoon—a good life, in a lot of ways.
“He’s a thorn in my side,” she said again.
Jocelyn made a small sound that wasn’t quite agreement and wasn’t quite argument.
“He is,” Steph insisted.
“Nobody said he wasn’t.” Jocelyn paused. “That’s not actually the whole story, though, is it?”
