by Mae Wood
“Marisa!,” Bert called. “So glad you made it. Thanks for filling in for Trip. This is Sid.”
“Hey, Marisa, I’m Sid.”
Marisa shook the outstretched hand of the lanky man in front of her. “Nice to meet you. So you both cycle with Trip?”
“Yeah,” replied Sid. “He’s been riding with us for a few years. He’s quite the bike nut.”
“I’ve seen the garage,” said Marisa, nodding.
“If you ever want to find any of us on a Sunday afternoon, we’re typically in his garage. The guy has tons of equipment. He lent me the wheels I’m using today about six months ago. I’m not even sure that he remembers,” continued Sid.
“Oh, I’m sure he remembers,” said Bert, turning to Sid. “He just doesn’t care as long as you’re using it. I’ve had a spare mountain bike frame of his for about three years now. And it’s super nice – a carbon fiber Ibis Mojo. I don’t want to think how many drinks I’d have to pour to save up for that in tip money. I keep asking him if I can just buy it off of him, but he says he’s not using it, so I should enjoy it.”
“I’m not going to sweat it, then,” replied Sid.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t. So, Marisa, this is your first time doing a relay, right?”
“In a triathlon, right. So you just come into this area,” she gestured to the rectangle in the parking lot where a rectangle had been drawn with chalk. “And then we tag and I take off?”
“Bingo. Just stay in the transition zone. You must tag off in this area and Sid has to be off his bike when you guys tag. This run leg is a loop. The finish line is over there in the school bus loading area.”
“Got it.”
“We knew you would, Runner Girl.”
“Then the beer and post-race party is in the school’s soccer field,” added Sid.
“Sounds like a fun morning,” said Marisa with a grin on her face.
“It’s a little addictive,” admitted Sid.
Sid and Marisa hung out in the transition zone, next to the other relay teams, while Bert disappeared into the high school for the swim leg. Before they knew it, Bert was running to them, barefoot and soaking wet. Inside the chalk rectangle, he and Sid tagged. Sid zoomed off on his bike in chase of the two cyclists ahead of him and was followed by a tight knot of bikes. Marisa was so excited that she bounced up and down shouting “Go! Go! Go!”
Bert places his hands on his knees and bent over to get his breath. “Okay, Runner Girl. We’ve got some time until Sid is back. He’s really talented, so with any luck, we’ll be in a good position. It’s going to be up to you to bring it home for us.”
“No worries. I’m a fighter.”
“I’d expect nothing less from Trip’s girl.”
Marisa felt her cheeks warm. To avoid Bert seeing her blush, she bent down to ensure her shoelaces were double knotted.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. He’s one of my best friends. I’m just really happy that he’s happy.”
Marisa wasn’t sure how to respond, so she muttered, “Um, thanks.”
Bert laughed quietly at her discomfort and began to put his own shoes on.
Soon, Sid’s banana yellow bike whizzed back into view. Marisa felt adrenaline course through her body. She was transported back to high school and college cross-country races. She and Sid slapped hands and she took off. It’s three miles. I’m going to run my ass off. As promised, Sid had taken the lead, but the margin was slim. I just need to hold on, thought Marisa as her feet pounded the pavement.
Marisa thought of nothing else but moving her body forward for the length of the course. When she made the final turn, she saw the entrance to the school bus loading area. She wasn’t used to sprinting, but she kicked herself into gear as best as she could, narrowly staying ahead of the skinny guy who was at her back. She crossed the finish line and was all smiles. She quickly found Sid and Bert.
“We won! We won!,” she told them excitedly. The two exchanged a glance.
“Uh, Marisa, I don’t know how to tell you this, but we haven’t won,” said Sid in a cautious tone.
“But I crossed the line first,” said Marisa defiantly. “Did you not see me hold that guy off?”
“And that is precisely how it works in running races,” said Bert, as one would speak to a small child. “However, not everyone can start swimming in the pool at the same time, so it’s staggered with a fifteen second delay between swimmers. I was one of the first people in the pool this morning. We won’t know where we came out precisely until they announce the winners at the post-party.”
“Oh,” replied Marisa, chastened.
“Come on, Runner Girl. Let’s go have beers.”
Marisa and the guys wandered over to the soccer field and enjoyed the post-race festivities. There was even a small band. The three had a great time laughing and Marisa got over her embarrassment of claiming victory too early. Their team had finished fourth in a field of twelve. In the middle of her second beer, she paused and looked at her new friends.
“So, why do you call me Runner Girl?”
Again, the two men looked at each other, each silently urging the other to answer.
Finally, Bert spoke up. “I’ll let Trip answer that. He’s a stand-up guy, Marisa. He gets a lot of crap said about him, but he’s really a solid guy. Please be nice to him.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Marisa returned to her parents’ house and found it empty. After getting cleaned up she sat on her soft childhood bed. She picked up her phone to call Trip and found a text from him: “Did you win?”
Oh, my goodness, Bert and Sid told him about my mistake. They probably laughed at me. Stop it. It was a silly mistake and it was good for a laugh. Just because I’m in my parents’ house doesn’t mean I need to become an insecure teenager again. Marisa breathed deeply and called Trip.
“Hey, Marisa!,” he answered on the second ring. She could hear his smile in his voice.
“Hey, yourself. Is this a good time for you?”
“It’s always a good time for you. So, did you win?”
“No, we came in fourth.”
“Not too shabby and a hell of a lot better than they would have done with me running, I promise you that. Did you have a good time with the guys?”
“Yes. They are great. And apparently both have seriously pilfered some of your bike equipment over the years.”
“Yeah, Bert periodically asks me to sell him this frame that I don’t use that he’s had for a while. And I think Sid has some handlebars and maybe a set of pedals.”
“I don’t know about that, but he’s definitely got some wheels from your collection. We really did have a great time. I’d like to do it again. They even gave me a nickname but said I’d have to ask you what it meant.”
“They gave you a nickname?”
“Yeah, ‘Runner Girl.’”
Marisa heard Trip exhale deeply.
“Uh, they didn’t give you that nickname. I did.”
“Since when? You’ve never called me that.”
“Do we really have to talk about this now?”
“Yes. If you’re trying to beg off telling me, then yes. Strike that. Indubitably, as you’d say. You must tell me or I’m hanging up.”
“Can’t this wait for in person?”
“Nope. Talk, Mr. Brannon.”
“Fine. I don’t call you that because I know your name now. I told you before that I’d seen you run by my house a lot. Anyway, I called you that once and the guys have been pretty merciless about, I don’t know what to call it, my crush, I guess, on Runner Girl.”
He has a crush on me? He’s had a crush on me for a long time! Trip has a crush on me! Marisa gave into all of her high school feelings. She clambered to her feet and started jumping up and down on her bed.
“Anyway, I was hoping they’d be a little more discreet, but I should have known better. But don’t worry. All they know is that I’m seeing Runner Girl and that your name is Marisa. They don’t know t
he more complicated bit.”
“When are you flying back in?,” said Marisa. She wanted to see him. She needed to see him as soon as possible.
“I get in Tuesday around five, but I’ve got dinner with my parents. I eat with them each Tuesday night, but I think I’ve mentioned that before, and then my dad and I go to Cal’s for a drink afterwards.”
Marisa stopped bouncing on her bed. “Instead of going home from Cal’s, why don’t you come to my place?”
“I’ve been thinking about you all week. I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
Marisa laughed. “Not the best idea? Oh, Trip, I think we’re well past best ideas.”
Trip laughed, too. “How about this, then. How about you come to dinner with my parents?”
Marisa froze and stopped jumping. “Now that is a stellar idea, Trip,” she replied, her voice full of sarcasm. “I can see that now, “Mom, Dad, this is Marisa, you know, the company’s lawyer, but she’s also my. . .’” Marisa trailed off, not quite sure how to finish her thought.
“Girlfriend?,” Trip tentatively supplied.
“Um, okay,” replied Marisa, slowly rolling the word around and trying it on for size in her head before pushing it out of her mind. It’s better not to think about that. I’m not his girlfriend. “But anyway, I don’t think dinner with your parents is the best idea now either.”
“Fine, how about my dad and I just happen to bump into you at Cal’s and we’ll invite you to join us for a drink?”
“Won’t that seem a little contrived? Won’t he realize it’s a set up?”
“Nah, come on. It’s near your place and you go there. I’d just like him to meet you out of the lawyer context.”
“You really think this is a good idea?”
“Please.”
“Fine, but you owe me.”
“Pretty sure you’re the one who owes me.”
Marisa’s jaw dropped and she felt her body grow slick with desire.
“Marisa? You still there?”
“You are naughty. So, naughty.”
Trip let out a belly laugh. “You don’t have a clue just how naughty I intend to be, Marisa.”
Marisa flopped back on her bed and threw an arm across her face. “Why are you still in Tampa? You’re killing me.”
“I’ll be there before you know it. So, drinks on Tuesday night and then we’ve got a work meeting on Wednesday. Now I just have to come up with a scheme to get on your dance card for Thursday and Friday.”
“Okay. You think about that. I’ve got to go. My parents should be home any minute.”
“Tuesday night can’t get here soon enough.”
“Bye, Trip.”
“Bye.”
Marisa punched her phone off, rolled on to her stomach, and buried her face in a pillow. God damn, Trip. You’re going to drive me nuts. Why can’t you just be some other guy and why can’t I just be some other girl? Why does this have to be so complicated? Why did you have to say ‘girlfriend’? Why do I have to like you so much?
“Hey, honey. You okay?,” said her dad, interrupting her wallow in self-pity.
“Yes, I’m fine, Dad.”
“How was your race? I’m sorry I missed it.”
“It was great. We came in fourth. I ran well and had a good time.”
“I hope his friends were nice to you.”
“How. . .”
“Your poker face, Marisa. You really do need to work on it. Your mother should be home soon. Come out and help me in the garden until then, will you?”
“Sure, Daddy. I’ll be right down.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Marisa sat at the bar, chatting casually with Cal as he set down a pint of brown ale before her. She didn’t feel casual at all. She knew that any second the pub’s front door would open and Trip and Jimmy Brannon would arrive.
“So, Marisa, what’s been keeping you away? You haven’t been in for a while. I was beginning to worry about you.”
“I’ve been fine. Just busy with work.”
“Hmph. Being busy with work usually means I see your face more, rather than less. I hope you’re not cheating on me with a new bartender.”
“Nothing of the sort. You’re the only one for me, Cal,” replied Marisa, lifting her glass in appreciation.
“Then, I hope whoever he is, he realizes he’s a lucky guy.” Cal’s voice boomed from his barrel chest in a warm greeting as the bell on the door jingled. “The Brannon Boys, so it is Tuesday after all.”
“Hey, Cal. Good to see you, too,” Marisa heard Trip respond.
“The usual?”
“Please,” said Jimmy.
Marisa was frozen. Be cool. This is supposed to be accidental. She heard their footsteps approach the bar and felt her back stiffen. How am I supposed to play this? I’m a terrible actress.
“Marisa!,” Trip called in a voice full of surprise. She turned her head to his handsome face and caught a quick wink of a deep blue eye. “Fancy running into you here.”
“Marisa, good to see you,” said Jimmy, shaking her hand.
“Good to see you, as always, Jimmy.”
“Mind if we join you, Marisa?,” said Trip, who was already pulling out the barstool next to her.
“Glad to have the company.”
Trip hurriedly sat on the stool next to Marisa, before his father could occupy the seat.
“We just had dinner with my mother.”
“I’m sure she loved having dinner with her two men.”
Cal appeared with two short glasses and set them down before lumbering off to the far end of the bar.
“A toast to happy coincidences,” said Jimmy, raising his glass.
Marisa cocked her head at Jimmy, gave him a quizzical look, and lifted her glass as well.
“Here, here,” said Trip. The trio clinked glasses and took sips of their beverages.
“Marisa, Trip has been talking about you all evening. You guys must be spending a lot of time together,” Marisa felt her breathing pause and heart stop. “… working on this rash of suits.”
Marisa breathed out. Well, that was better than what I feared.
“Yes, he’s been a big help.”
“I’m sure he has been.” Jimmy brought his glass to his mouth and drained the drink. “Okay, well, this old man is on his way home. I’ll let you young folks hold up the bar for the rest of the evening.”
“Dad, are you sure? We just got here.”
“Well, my drink is done and you know I’ve promised your mother that I only join you for one,” said Jimmy, putting his hands up in the air to indicate he had no control over the situation. Jimmy tossed a hundred dollar bill on the bar and stood to leave. “You kids have fun. Cal, take care of Trip and Marisa, for me, will you?,” he called down the bar. Cal nodded his head and waved Jimmy goodbye. Jimmy then patted his son on the back and instead of his normal formal handshake with Marisa, leaned in to her for a quick hug.
Marisa was completely immobilized by fear and confusion. She could only offer a slight nod in response.
“Good. Night, y’all.” And with that, Jimmy was gone.
Trip gently pushed his knee into Marisa’s and his face lit up. “I missed you while I was in Tampa.”
“Did you tell your dad anything about us?,” Marisa countered abruptly.
“No, why?”
“Well, he just pounded that glass of bourbon, plunked down enough cash to get us both loaded, and bolted out of here like the bar was on fire.”
Trip contemplated his glass and swirled its amber contents. “Well, you want to keep drinking here?”
“That’s not the point, Trip, and you know it. Your dad has never hugged me before and most certainly never skittered away from me. What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him anything, but he’s not stupid, Marisa.”
“I told you pretending to accidentally bump into each other at the bar was a bad idea.”
“Come on now, don’t get upset.”
“No one is questioning that, Marisa. I’m not going to put your livelihood in jeopardy for no good reason. But, this is a good reason, Marisa. We’re a good reason.”
Marisa snorted. “Sure, it’s a fine reason for you until you find the newest flavor of the week.”
Trip looked at her sternly. “That’s not my style and that’s unfair of you to say or even think that. I haven’t done a damn thing that indicates there is anyone else I’m interested in.”
If we’re going to have this fight, let’s have it.
“I’m not dumb either, Trip. I know how the internet works and I’ve seen pictures of you with all sorts of women hanging all over you at parties all over town.”
“You are completely overreacting. You have no idea what you’re talking about and you’re being silly.”
“I’m not being silly. I’m being honest. And I’m not overreacting.” Marisa hopped off her bar stool, grabbed her purse, and marched out the door.
“Marisa!”
She ignored Trip’s call and kept walking. It’s just better to end this now before anything bad happens. She felt her eyes well up with tears, but she kept walking towards home. This was such a bad idea. Sure, he’s cute and nice and smart and makes me laugh, but he’s not worth ruining my life over. He’s just not worth it. He’s just going to break my heart. She kept repeating it in her head like a mantra. He’s not worth ruining my life over. He’s just not worth it. He’s just going to break my heart. But she couldn’t convince herself. Tears spilled down her face and her chest ached. She wiped the tears away with the backs of her hands. Keep it together, Marisa. Just get home, have a good cry, and get it out. Get him out of your system. Home is only another block. Keep moving.
“Marisa!,” said Trip, grabbing her arm and twisting her towards him in the middle of the sidewalk. “You’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not seeing anyone else and I’m not going to. That’s not my style. In fact, I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in a year. As for any girl you’ve seen pictures of me with, they are mostly daughters of my mom’s friends. She’s been on a quest to see me find someone, but I’m really not interested in the Memphis society thing. And none of them have been Runner Girl.”