Page 63 of All The Ways to Miss You

I take a deep breath and jog to Evan. “Hey,” I say to get his attention.

“Nice cape.” He eyes me with suspicion.

To break the tension, I spin and show him the back.

He reads it aloud and chuckles. “Pretty fitting.”

“My blond leprechaun made it for me.”

“I’m jealous.”

“That seems to be your thing,” I crack.

His grin turns sheepish. “Yeah, I never got to say I was sorry for that. And I am sorry, Cait. You didn’t deserve that, and I had no right.”

“You didn’t, but thank you.” I shift where I stand, building my own confidence. “But I also want to apologize for being so, whatever, the other night. I just want things to be like they were before. Can we do that?”

“Like before?”

“Just two people who live in the same building and banter on occasion. Nothing complicated. Nothing that causes this.” I wave a floppy hand between us.

“What’s this?” His mimics my gesture, appearing amused.

“Anger, hurt, confusion. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. It’s wrong. It doesn’t feel right. I want things back to normal.”

“Are you finally making me your friend?” He smirks.

“If you can handle it.” I grin.

“Then allow me to be the friend that kicks your ass in this marathon.”

twenty-eight

Lou appears wearing the same shirt as Aggie and Paul, except he’s accessorized his with a pair of lime-green leopard-print skinny jeans and a pink boa. He waves the rope of flowing feathers above his head.

Seeing the three near the starting line, cheering Evan and me on, I allow myself a moment of happiness. For the first time after, I’m positive I’m where I’m supposed to be, with friends who care. The only person missing is Ozzy. Together, they’re my new family. I’m no longer alone. Happiness spreads across my face.

Evan stands beside me. We’re stretching and talking smack. This, too, makes me happy, even if he has more your momma jokes than I do.

The announcer welcomes everyone to the race. We find our spots and stand ready. A digital clock counts down at the starting line. When it hits zero, an air horn blows and thousands of runners launch forward. Evan and I are locked within the moving mass for several blocks until the pack breaks.

With the space widening around us, I set a slower pace for the twenty-six-plus miles ahead. Evan settles in too. At this point, he seems unconcerned about winning. But I know what he’s waiting for, because I’m waiting for the same thing—the view of the finish line. As soon as I see it, I’ll blow him away.

At a first-aid station, I grab a plastic cup of water and drink it. At the next one, I splash the water on my face. My favorite part is running through Lincoln Park beneath the now bare trees. It’s here I hit my second wind, my body relaxing, and I exert less energy. With my cape flowing behind me, I could run forever.

When we pass through the Andersonville neighborhood, Ozzy’s nursing home comes into view. My heart leaps when I spot him sitting in a wheelchair on the sidewalk. Other residents and nursing aides cheer beside him, each waving a sign above their heads that read messages like, Go, Cait! and Cait the great! When I realize he’s organized my own cheering section, I practically melt at the sight.

Splitting off from the pack, I run to Ozzy. “Thanks for being here.” I give him a kiss on his cheek, and then fist-bump each of his friends before taking off again.

“I need one of those capes,” Ozzy calls.

I turn and spread my cape wide so he can read it, then I ripple it dramatically in the wind. Today I’m Superwoman, and nothing can stop me.

“Who was that?” Evan asks when I rejoin him.

“Ozzy.”

“The dude you bribe with candy?”