She turned to me, surprised. "Why?"
"Just curious." Were they giving her the response she wanted, the support she wasn't getting from her family?
She sighed. "Ross, the instructor guy, thinks I'd be fine. Nobody else does though." She looked at the bare table in front of her, then said, "I think I'll go lie down for a bit, okay? I'm feeling kind of tired."
This, of course, got Mom all fluttery, but Kim said, "No, my heart's fine. My head hurts and I need a rest, that's all." She got up and left, tossing a "See you later, Megan," over her shoulder as she went.
Brandon began talking about the MMA fight he'd watched last night, filling the silence, but I sat without commenting and thought about Kim's dream. Running a marathon was dangerous too, but nearly everyone I knew supported me. Shouldn't I find a way to support Kim?
Chapter Twenty-One
"I can't," Tosca gasped. "My feet weigh too much."
I laughed. "I know the feeling." I pointed at a water fountain about fifty meters ahead. "Just to there and we'll walk. Don't try to go fast. Slow is better."
"K," she said, plodding along toward the fountain.
I kept up with her easily, which was a nice change given how much time I still spent struggling to keep Andrew and Jeanine in my sights, and when we reached the fountain and slowed to a walk I said, "You're doing a great job."
She looked back to see how far we'd gone. "Not really. I'm walking nearly as much as I'm running and I get tired so fast."
I shrugged. "But you are running. And that's good, right?"
She put her hand over her heart. "Are you really asking? Because I have an opinion."
I chuckled. "No, I'm not asking. Get your breath back so we can run again."
"Slave driver," she muttered.
"Why, thank you," I said, as sweetly as Andrew said it to me when I called him that, and we giggled.
"I do want to thank you for doing this with me," she said. "Even though I hate it with the passion of a thousand burning suns."
"Only a thousand? I need to push you harder."
She took a mock swing at me. "I mean it, though. It's nice of you to help me."
I started to brush this off, as I always did whenever anyone thanked me, but as I did I saw embarrassment creep across her exercise-reddened face.
It confused me for a moment, then something Jeanine had said flashed through my mind and I understood. By refusing to accept Tosca's thanks, I wasn't making her feel relaxed and not like a burden, as I intended. I was acting like Jeanine's former coworker, who denied herself things and acted like a martyr so people would pat her on the back more. I didn't mean to do that, but I was, and far from making Tosca comfortable I was removing her chance to be grateful. I'd been so grateful to my running buddies for their gift card and it had made me feel warm and fuzzy knowing they cared enough to be bothered. Shouldn't I let Tosca be grateful to me so she could have those same feelings?
I cleared my throat. "Well, Andrew and Jeanine helped me learn to run, and they said someday I'd get to help someone else. I guess today is the day. And you're welcome."
She smiled. "Someday I'll help someone else too. If I make it through today."
"You will. Off we go."
She groaned again, but I insisted, and we alternated between walking and running for another twenty minutes. Though Tosca grumbled and protested and threatened my life in various comic ways, she didn't stop running, and I knew her complaints were no more sincere than mine to Andrew were. Something about running just makes you want to complain, it seems. But as Andrew always told me, "If you've got the breath to complain, you've got the breath to keep running," and Tosca and I did just that.
As we started the last run segment, I found myself wanting to go faster and on a whim I said, "See that bench up ahead?"
"Yup."
"I'll count to three and we go. As fast as we can. Last one there buys lunch." I wouldn't make her buy lunch, of course, but there had to be something on the line.
"You're on."
I counted down and we took off, and to my shock she shot away from me at once. I hadn't been running as hard as I could before but I did now, and still she managed to get far enough ahead that she was sitting on the bench when I arrived.
She grinned at me and said, "Where've you been?" through her panting.
I shook my head. "You're fast. Couldn't catch you."
She rolled her eyes and got to her feet. "Yeah, right. You let me win."
We headed off to cool down as I said, "Honestly, I didn't."
She looked at me, shocked. "Really?"
"Yup. From what little I know about all this, I think you're a natural sprinter."
"Wow. I used to swim and I always did the shorter races, but I thought that was because I was lazy and didn't want to go further."
"Could be, I guess, but I don't think so. Maybe we can run with Andrew some time to see what he thinks of you."
She shook her head in wonderment. "I'm not lazy. I'm a sprinter."
"I think so. I think your happy pace is fast."
"But not for long."
I shrugged. "If you get where you need to go, who cares?"
She laughed. "True. So where are you taking me for lunch?"
We'd run near her place so we went back there to shower and then I did take her for lunch because I'd said I would.
Amanda, on the other hand, hadn't contacted me in the week since school ended. So much for her promise of dinner out, and for her supposed gratitude.
I hadn't helped her deal with James to get gratitude, of course. But it would have been nice if she actually felt some.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I stood up slowly and grimaced as I took my first few steps on legs that seemed to have forgotten they had joints.
"Looking good, Megan." Dad grinned at me.
"Yeah, right."
He chuckled. "How long do you stay this stiff?"
I was supposed to be helping take the dinner dishes to the kitchen, but I gratefully stopped staggering to talk to him. "Well, the run was yesterday morning. With my other runs I'd have been feeling fine by now but this is the longest one I've done so I guess it's different."
Thirty-two kilometers. I still couldn't believe I'd covered that much distance. It took me nearly four and a half hours, but I did it. Andrew and I had gone to the Beaches path at six in the morning to avoid the worst of the day's heat, and he'd stayed with me the whole time, cruising along at my pace and brushing off any suggestion that I was holding him back or that he might have had a more enjoyable way to spend a Sunday. He'd accepted a fight in early November, so he'd decided to still do the marathon but not push himself too hard. I couldn't reconcile 'run a marathon' with 'not push too hard', but I supposed after I'd done a few of them I'd understand. Assuming I survived this one, of course.
"I'm an old-fashioned guy," Dad said. "How far is that in miles?"
"Just under twenty," I said, since I'd been curious and asked Andrew. "Nineteen point eight."
Dad shook his head. "Impressive, kiddo. Crazy, but impressive. And you said before you won't be going any further in training, right?"
I nodded. "But we're going to do that same run twice more since it's such good practice for the race." I rolled my eyes. "I can't wait."
He laughed. "Well, better you than me. All right, get this table cleared."
By the time I reached the kitchen my legs had loosened a bit but I was still feeling the after-effects of the run. Andrew had warned me that I would but since I'd barely been sore at all after our twenty-nine-kilometer run I didn't expect to feel so much after the thirty-two. I'd have to do another ten in the race itself, but I did my best not to think about that. It scared me. I did like the idea of pushing myself that hard, of finding out just how much I could take, but it scared me too.
I dropped off my load of dishes on the kitchen counter. "That's the last of them. Should we-- where's Mom?"
Kim rolled her eyes. "Mrs. Behr came over w
ith her grandson and they're in our yard chatting."
I rolled my eyes too. "So it'll be at least half an hour before dessert then." Mom and Mrs. Behr, whose first name I'd never learned, loved standing in one or the other's back yard and talking about anything and nothing.
"Should I tell them?" Kim jerked her head toward the dining room where Dad and Brandon still sat.
"I can."
"You're in pain. Start washing, I'll be back."
She was gone before I could respond, and I ran hot water into the sink and thought about how unusually sweet it was for her to notice my discomfort and do something about it. Years and years of being 'the sick one' hadn't exactly trained Kim to worry about other people.
I was just setting the first plate in the draining rack when she returned. "Dad's going to watch Brandon play video games."
I laughed. "Sounds like fun." Brandon was famous for getting angry, and once for actually throwing his controller across the room, when a game didn't go his way.
"I'd rather wash dishes, personally."
I offered her my soapy cloth, but she said, "Nah, I'll dry. You're already soggy, you might as well keep going."
She moved around the kitchen putting away the dishes as she dried them, and while we didn't speak it wasn't an awkward silence at all. I felt, weirdly, closer to my sister than I ever had even though we hadn't said a word.
When I'd washed the last pot I drained the sink then wiped the counter. Moving sideways to reach it all meant taking steps, of course, and my poor legs did not appreciate that one bit.
I made it across the kitchen to toss the wet dishcloth into the hamper Mom kept there, and turned to see Kim watching me. "I know," I said. "I look ridiculous."
She shook her head. "Well, a bit, but I was actually thinking..." She blushed. "Never mind."
I made my stiff way back to her. "What?"
She rubbed her lips together then took a deep breath and said, "I'm jealous of you."
I blinked. "Because I'm in pain? I'd have thought--" My turn to cut myself off. I didn't need to say I'd have thought she'd had more than enough pain in her life already.
"Not the pain," she said in frustration. "That you're doing it. And that they think you should." She shot a glance at the door to the back yard. "She doesn't think I should do anything."
I felt bad for her, but I had to say, "She's worried about you. We all are, really."
We said, "Except for Brandon," at the same time then giggled. I wondered when I'd last giggled with my sister. I couldn't remember. Maybe never. She'd been so sick and then so delicate, it hadn't seemed right.
She sighed, amusement draining away. "I'm so tired of people worrying about me, babying me. I feel..." She frowned. "Is there a female version of 'emasculated'?"
"Not that I know of." I frowned too. "That's weird, actually. There should be a word for it."
"Well, whatever it's called, that's how I feel. Like nobody thinks I can do anything. I know I was really sick, and I do understand I've still got limitations. You'll notice I'm not trying to run a marathon, like some people I could mention."
She smiled, and I did too. Then she went on. "But I don't want to live my life afraid of what will happen. I want to get out there and live it. You know? And if..." She shook her head slowly. "If my heart's going to kill me eventually, I'd rather die skydiving than sitting on the couch because I was afraid to leave the house."
The passion and determination in her voice touched me, and reminded me of Ben. "I saw this guy, at the Hero Hike." I touched my breastbone. "He had a scar just like you. And he ran the race. I heard him saying he'd done it every year and he was going to do it again even though he'd had the surgery. He was slower than me, and that's saying something, but he did it."
She nodded, her eyes full of tears. "That's what I want."
I moved closer, even though there was nobody there to hear us. The fear of defying Mom was too strong not to. "I think you should do it."
Her eyebrows went up. "The skydive? Really?"
I nodded. "Thought that when I saw that guy but I hadn't figured out how to tell you. I'm scared for you, Kim, I have to admit, but you're right. You have to..." I laughed. "You have to live at your happy pace."
Her eyes now shining with gratitude instead of tears, she said, "My what now?"
I shook my head, smiling. "It's everywhere. That Andrew's a philosopher or something," I said, then explained about finding your happy pace and letting it take you through your life.
"He's right." She leaned in. "He's cute too."
Our eyes met and I nodded. I also blushed.
"Don't worry, I won't get in your way."
I laughed. "Well, thanks, but I don't know if he's ready to date right now."
She winced, clearly remembering Andrew's relationship history. "The poor guy. And he still has that 'happy pace' philosophy?"
I nodded. "And he lives by it."
"Gotta admire that."
"Yup."
Her gaze held mine, her eyes serious now. "Do you truly think I should do it?"
I stood silent, torn. If something happened to her...
Then I took a deep breath. "If you want to do it, if it'll make you happy, then yes. I'm scared for you, and I really want you to be careful when you do it, but I want you to be happy."
She shut her eyes and said, "Thank you. I feel a little less emasculated."
I couldn't handle the seriousness in her tone and the solemn feel in the air, so I said, "Okay, but please don't turn into a man. I don't want another brother."
She opened her eyes, looking amused and also glad I'd lightened the mood. "Trust me, me neither." She gave me an evil grin. "Plus, I'm pretty sure Ross likes girls not guys."
I grinned back. "And you want Ross to like you, I take it?"
Her cheeks pinkened. "I think maybe he does already, but I guess I'll have to wait and see. Don't want to scare him off." She winked and I laughed.
Then she leaned in and almost whispered, "But what about Mom?"
"What about her?"
"I promised I wouldn't."
I looked at her. "So?"
"You think I should do it anyhow?"
The shock and awe in her voice amused me. "She shouldn't have told you not to. It's your choice, you're a big girl now."
She took a deep breath. "Yeah. I am. I'm doing it."
We grinned at each other, though I could tell she was still scared.
"Good for you."
"Yeah." She swallowed. "Will you come with me?"
"You know I can hardly look down from a second floor balcony without freaking out. I can't."
She laughed. "I don't want you to do the skydive with me. That's my thing. I just want you to come along."
I stared at her, my mouth pulling into a surprised and happy smile I couldn't hold back. "You do?"
She looked as surprised as I felt but said, "Yeah. Look, Megan, you don't know how much all this means to me. Everybody tells me to play it safe, make sure I don't hurt myself. You're the first one ever to think I should go for it. Other than Ross."
I gave a half-mock grimace. "Which might mean we're the only crazy people you know."
She shook her head. "Seriously, I feel fine. I know all the things to watch for and I'm not feeling any of them. I am so sick of everyone babying me and making sure I don't do too much. Mom tries to make sure I don't do anything. She always has. Do you remember all the stuff I couldn't do as a kid?"
"Trust me, I do. I got all the chores you weren't allowed to do."
She wrinkled her nose. "Sorry about that. But you also got to go skating and skiing and out bike riding with your friends. I couldn't do any of that. 'Too dangerous'."
Her imitation of Mom made me smile, but it was bittersweet because I hadn't even noticed all the things she didn't get to do growing up. "I never thought of that."
She shrugged. "I never thought of the bad stuff I didn't have to do, so I guess we're even."
We smiled, frie
nds for the first time in our lives, and I said, "Ross thinks you can handle it?"
She nodded. "He wanted me to get the doctors to approve it, of course, and they all did except for O'Connell and he's a worrywart anyhow. So then Ross was okay with it. He doesn't see all the heart problems when he looks at me because he didn't know me before. He just sees... me."
She blushed, and I smiled. Ross clearly meant a lot to her. "I can't wait to meet him."
"On my birthday. When I skydive!"
She shivered with delight and I laughed. "It's a date."
Mom tugged at the kitchen door, which fortunately had a tendency to stick, and Kim and I grinned at each other then she said, "Moving on. Talk about something."
I couldn't think of anything for a second then said as the door opened, "Andrew didn't think Tosca would really be that fast but she was."
"How fast?" Kim said, then looked at Mom. "Nice talk?"
"Lovely. Her grandson is such a sweet little boy." She sighed.
I knew this was meant to give us the "Where are the grandchildren I should have by now?" guilt trip. Kim probably did too, because she ignored the comment. "Sorry, Megan, you were saying? About Tosca?"
"It was amazing, actually. She came for a run with me and Andrew and the rest of the group at the MMA gym and she nearly beat him in a sprint. He had to go flat-out to catch her at the end. She's got almost no endurance but for the minute or so she can run she's on fire."
"Cool. So she won't be running a marathon with you."
I laughed. "Not a chance. But Andrew helped her find a group of sprinters in Toronto and she's training with them. We're getting together once a week to talk about teaching but we're not running together."
"Your happy paces are just too different," Kim said, her eyes dancing.
I grinned. "You got it."
Mom had been puttering around getting dessert out as we talked, and now she said, "Oh, I'm so glad to see you girls finally being friendly with each other. That's all I've ever wanted."
Kim and I looked at each other and she said, "Well, you've got it now."
But would she still want it when she realized it meant I'd be watching Kim skydive?
Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9) Page 57