The Courage to Try

by C. A. Popovich

  “I was happy to help, but I’m glad you didn’t need anything. I’m a bit of a wimp.”

  “It turns out, maybe Sally’s the wimp. Thanks again. I’m getting out of here.” Jaylin squeezed Debby’s arm once before heading for the exit.

  Jaylin sat in her car for a few minutes to settle her shakiness. She’d done well. She’d told Sally they were through and Sally decided it was her idea. Jaylin rested and allowed the relief to wash over her. She couldn’t wait to tell Maggie.

  She drove home replaying the incident. She could have just sent an e-mail telling Sally to back off, but she knew doing it in person would be more convincing. And she’d been right. She arrived at home feeling more relieved than she had in a long time.

  She settled into her patio chair and held her cup of tea to the side to allow Railroad to settle on her lap. The sun was setting, and exhaustion had replaced the euphoria of ridding herself of Sally. She allowed herself to enjoy the elation about the positive way she accomplished it and to feel the relief of standing up for herself. She’d declared that she deserved to be treated with respect. And for the first time, she thought she might believe it.

  Her thoughts turned to Kristen and her invitation to her gun club. She looked forward to spending time with her, but a gun club sounded pretentious. I’ll wear my new black jeans and a silk blouse. Maybe she’d take a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, just in case, and she could change in the car when she saw what other people were arriving in. She reviewed her wardrobe in her mind. She mixed and matched for twenty minutes until she returned to her original decision of black jeans, sea-foam green silk shirt, and her brown leather jacket. She’d take a backpack with a change of blue jeans and a MSU T-shirt. Shoes? Sneakers, loafers, or boots?

  “Geez, Road, it’s just a gun club. It can’t be that fancy, can it? Oh, maybe it has a website. Come on.” Jaylin rose as Railroad slid off her lap and went inside to boot up her computer. Maybe there would be photos of Kristen. Not that I’m becoming obsessed or anything. She grinned and launched the website.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Hey, Tim.” Kristen sat at one of the round tables in the gun club. “Is lasagna on the menu tonight?”

  “Sure is. You stayin’?”

  “I sure am.”

  “Comin’ right up.”

  Kristen settled in her seat across from the window and watched the shooters outside. She cringed when she saw Rupert at the last station, nipping on his flask. She’d been able to avoid him all week while practicing for the shoot, but it looked like her luck was about to run out. The spicy scent of his expensive, excessive cologne preceded Rupert to her area of the room.

  “I thought that was you, hotshot. Looks as if I’m on time for dinner.” Rupert pulled out a chair opposite Kristen and chuckled from across the table at her.

  “I’d prefer to eat alone, Rupert. I’m sure there are plenty of empty seats at other tables.”

  “I kinda like this one. I got more to say to you.”

  Kristen hoped Tim would direct Rupert away from her table when he brought her coffee, but he just set it down with a nod. “So what more do you have to say to me?”

  “I know who you are.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I introduced myself to you weeks ago.” Kristen wished he’d take his stinky self away from her table. She doubted she’d be able to enjoy her dinner with him sitting across from her.

  “I knew your mom. She thought she was hot shit. Just like you.” Rupert narrowed his beady eyes.

  “What the hell are you talking about? My dinner will be out in a minute, and I don’t like cold food. I don’t have time for your lies.”

  Rupert’s smirk sent a chill down Kristen’s spine as he settled into his chair as though he was prepared to stay all night. “I’m not lying. You was just a skinny little kid the year I was the one supposed to go to Barcelona, the year I was up against your mom for a place on the Olympic team. I was always the better shooter, but she got lucky. Now you think you’re gonna beat me, too.”

  “Rupert, I’d like to be left alone to enjoy my meal.”

  “Don’t believe me, huh?”

  “No.” Kristen was losing her patience. She wished Tim would hurry with her meal.

  Rupert leaned forward and rested his stubby hands on the table. “Rosalyn Eckert, United States Olympic Skeet Team, nineteen seventy-eight to nineteen ninety-two, and the women’s events from two thousand to two thousand five. She died in two thousand eight. Have I got that correct, hotshot?” Rupert scowled at Kristen.

  Kristen stared at Rupert. He could have been in his twenties in 1992, during the Barcelona Olympics. Most of her memories of her mother’s competition for the Olympic team were sketchy, but she remembered that her mother had mentioned someone she’d beaten that year by only two shots. He’d been upset and had resorted to calling her names and complaining to the Olympic committee. His name was Rupert. That’s why his name seemed familiar.

  “I can tell you believe me now.” Rupert’s hostile grin exposed his bleached teeth. He snuck a drink from his flask and quickly hid it in his vest pocket.

  “I think you should leave now. Tim won’t be happy about that flask in your pocket.” Kristen sat completely still. She wouldn’t let him know he’d rattled her.

  “You won’t beat me. Remember that.” Rupert stood and teetered toward the door.

  Now that she realized why his name seemed familiar, she wondered about his presence at the gun club. Was the only reason he was here to beat her? Why hadn’t he been there in the years since her mother’s death? She didn’t care to invest any energy in trying to figure him out. So, he’d competed against her mother. Plenty of people had. She decided to think about seeing Jaylin again instead.

  *

  Jaylin parked in the gravel lot next to the gun club, as far away from the sound of shots as she could, before she pulled out her phone and sent Kristen a text letting her know she was there. The log building wasn’t elaborate or pretentious, and the barred windows indicated a level of security that didn’t surprise her. She admired the manicured lawn surrounding the cobblestone path leading to the steel door. The pots of geraniums and begonias lining the walkway surprised her.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” Tim asked, stepping in front of Jaylin as she entered the building.

  “I’m looking for Kristen Eckert, I’m a friend of hers.” Jaylin studied the rough looking man blocking her way. She hadn’t known what to expect, but this guy fit her idea of someone who would work at a gun club.

  “This here’s a private club. You can’t waltz in here askin’ for people.”

  Jaylin shrank under the weathered man’s brazen appraisal. “As I said, I’m a friend. I came to see her shoot today.”

  “What kinda friend don’t let her friend know she’s comin’ to see her so she can meet her at the door? How do I know you ain’t lookin’ for trouble?” Tim narrowed his eyes and stared at her.

  Kristen’s privacy was certainly well protected. “Listen. I’m not trying to cause trouble. I’m looking for my friend, and she invited me.”

  “You’re gonna have to prove that to me.” He stood with his arms crossed and legs spread.

  “I have her phone number.” Jaylin pulled out her cell phone and showed Tim the readout.

  “You could have looked that number up and put it in that fancy phone.” He straightened still blocking her path.

  “I know her father’s name. Would that work?” This was the last attempt. If he didn’t move after this, she’d call Kristen.

  He squinted at her and Jaylin could almost hear his mind whirring.

  “Never mind. Can you leave her a message at least? Please?”

  The impolite man gestured with his chin toward the desk, where he handed her a felt-tip pen and a pad of paper. “You write down a message. If Kristen is around. I’ll give it to her.”

  *

  Kristen watched Tim acting like a rooster protecting his flock. She waited for anoth
er second before working her way to where Jaylin looked ready to punch Tim. Knowing the ex-marine as she did, Kristen didn’t want to take a chance of that happening.

  “Did I hear someone’s looking for me?” She couldn’t have suppressed her smile at seeing Jaylin if she’d tried.

  Jaylin looked up and relief flooded her face. “Thank God. This gentleman wouldn’t let me in to find you.” Kristen laughed aloud at the annoyance in Jaylin’s voice.

  “It’s okay, Tim. This is my friend, Jaylin. Jaylin, this is the owner of the gun club, Tim Roland.”

  “Pleased to meet ya.” Tim smiled and offered his hand.

  Jaylin looked baffled, but she shook his hand in greeting. The owner?

  “I invited Jaylin today to watch the club shoot. Sorry I didn’t see you come in, Jaylin. I just saw your text or I’d have met you at the door. And I’m sorry, Tim. I should have let you know she was coming. I wasn’t thinking.” She turned to Jaylin. “Come on. I was just about to have a cup of coffee before I start. Will you join me?” Kristen knew she was grinning ear to ear.

  “I’d love to,” Jaylin answered, then proclaimed much louder, “I’m going to have coffee with my friend, Kristen.” She glared at Tim and took Kristen’s hand.

  “He’s a sweet man when you get to know him,” Kristen said.

  “Yeah. Well, that’ll take some convincing.”

  Kristen led them to her favorite table by the windows. She pulled a chair out for Jaylin, then sat across from her.

  “We have an hour before the shoot starts. I’m glad you made it,” Kristen said. “You look great. I love that color green on you. It reflects your beautiful eyes.” Kristen kept her eyes above chest level, though it took all her self-control to do so. Jaylin had left the top button of the soft looking silk shirt unbuttoned, and a hint of cleavage peeked through.

  “Thank you. I wasn’t sure what to wear to a gun club. All my jeans and T-shirts are thread-bare.”

  Before they could continue, Tim appeared and filled their coffee cups.

  Jaylin took a sip. “Mm. This is excellent coffee.”

  “Tim makes the best Italian roast I’ve ever tasted. He won’t disclose his secret, although everyone asks him. The food is good, too. He has a chef who comes in on weekends. You’ll see. Can you stay for dinner after the shoot? I don’t think it will be too late.”

  Kristen watched Jaylin scrutinize the room.

  “I’d like that, if it’s not too late.” She looked around. “I didn’t know what to expect, but it’s cleaner than I would have thought,” she said. “And bigger. The view is nice. Is that where you shoot?” Jaylin pointed to the skeet stations outside.

  “Yep. We can walk out there and I’ll explain how it works, if you’re interested.”

  “Will we go before the shooting starts?”

  “We have to. Only the registered shooters are allowed by the stations once the competition begins. It’s safe and well regulated. You can sit and watch from this table if you want to.”

  After a brief tour of the stations, and explanations about the way the competition was judged, she led Jaylin to the watching area and headed back to get ready.

  Kristen set herself on the first station and yelled for the target. She wasn’t nervous. This was just a club shoot, which helped Tim keep the club qualified for the regional shoots. She thought of Jaylin watching the event and lost her concentration for a second, but she settled into a rhythm and willed herself to focus on the targets. By the second round, she was loose and warmed up. She anticipated a good final score, maybe even high overall. She had to admit, shooting that well was even more gratifying, with Jaylin watching.

  The shooters were set up in groups of four, so Kristen knew she’d eventually have to shoot with Rupert. Rupert joined her group on their fourth round.

  “Hey, hotshot. Looks as if we’re neck and neck, but don’t get cocky.” Rupert shot first and cleanly broke all his targets. Kristen noted that he didn’t have his flask with him, or at least he hadn’t pulled it out yet. It would have meant automatic disqualification.

  They continued the round and neither of them missed a target. Both were on track for a perfect score and ahead of the closest competitor by two shots. Kristen stepped up to the next station, positioned her gun, and shouted, “Pull.” A flash of light crossed the sight line of the barrel of her gun a second before she pulled the trigger. She hesitated for less than a fraction of a second but it was enough. She missed the target.

  Kristen stepped off the station. She checked the light clouds overhead that obscured the direct sunlight. She saw no metal objects anywhere or planes that might reflect the sun. She set her stance and focused. She broke the next targets cleanly and moved away from the station to allow the next shooter to take their turn. Rupert strode past her and flashed a crooked grin. He spoke quietly enough that none of the other shooters could hear him as he passed her. “Too bad, hotshot.”

  Rupert didn’t miss a single shot for the rest of the round and he ended up taking the high overall prize with a score of a perfect one hundred.

  “Congratulations,” Kristen said. She didn’t linger for any further conversation but headed to the clubhouse, where Jaylin was waiting for her.

  *

  “You looked good out there. At least, in my totally inexperienced opinion.” Jaylin grinned.

  “Thanks.” Kristen wiped down her gun and set it in the gun rack. She was clearly disappointed, but she tried not to let it show.

  “Tim is bringing you a cup of coffee. Come on.” Jaylin took her hand and led her to their table. She was inexplicably happy to see her. She’d watched the participants as they shot their rounds and tried to remember the mini lesson Kristen had given her. They all looked pretty much the same to her, and she’d quickly become bored, until she noticed the ugly man with slicked back hair. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Kristen unless he was shooting. At first, Jaylin thought maybe he had a thing for her, but then she spotted his hateful sneer.

  “Who’s that guy with the greasy hair? He’s creepy,” Jaylin said.

  “His name’s Rupert, and I agree. He’s creepy.”

  Tim set their coffee cups on the table and confirmed that they’d be staying for dinner. “It’ll be about half an hour before dinner’s served,” he said. “Good shootin’ today Kristen. What happened there at station seven?”

  “You know, I’m not sure, Tim. There was a flash of light, a reflection from something maybe, that caught me off guard. I shot a ninety-nine though. That’s not so bad.” Kristen picked up her coffee and relaxed in her chair.

  “Yeah. As I said, good shootin’.” Tim retreated to the kitchen to oversee dinner preparations.

  Jaylin looked at Kristen over her cup. “Do you think Rupert had anything to do with that ‘flash of light’?”

  Kristen looked surprised, either because Jaylin had asked the question, or because she hadn’t thought of it. Jaylin wondered which.

  “I can’t prove that. Did you see him do something?”

  “Only that he kept reaching into his vest pocket. I didn’t see what he was looking for.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ve missed before and I’ll miss a shot or two again,” Kristen said.

  Jaylin shrugged. “I don’t get it. You’d think he’d be happy to win on his own merits, not have to cheat to beat you.”

  “Yeah. It’s not as if he needs the money. He just needs to win, I suppose,” Kristen said. “But then, we don’t know that he did anything wrong, either.”

  Tim delivered their meal and Jaylin enjoyed the fantasy of membership in a private club, dining on veal parmesan and prime rib with her…what? Friend? Person she was dating? She forced away those thoughts and relaxed. She’d enjoy Kristen’s company and the good food and worry about their differences later.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The early June morning was cool, but Jaylin’s shirt stuck to her back and sweat trickled between her breasts as she ran. Her calf muscles burned, but she p
ushed herself harder, feeling the need to escape. What was she running from? She had nothing to fear from Kristen.

  No, it was the things she felt for Kristen. Things that tugged at her heart. Feelings. Maggie said this was good. So why did it scare her so much? She wanted someone who respected her boundaries and who wanted her. Did she want to live the rest of her life in fear? Her past, especially her past mistakes, did not define her. If she didn’t try again, how could she learn? How would she know if she was capable of love? Was it better to be alone forever? She had to find a way to make room in her heart for trust. So what the hell am I running from? Am I running before she does?

  Jaylin walked the final half mile to her house. Railroad was waiting for her when she trudged back inside.

  “Hey, you. Let’s go do some training after breakfast.”

  Jaylin sat in her lounge chair with her coffee and contemplated her dilemma. She had to shut her brain down. She was getting a headache from the chaos tumbling around in her mind. Jaylin finished her coffee and oatmeal and concentrated on introducing Railroad to jumps and tunnels. She had to trust that at some point she’d know what step to take next. For the moment, as uncertain as she was, she knew she needed to wait it out. Maybe.

  *

  Jaylin sat half listening to the various discussions going on around her. She jumped at the feel of Maggie’s hand on her shoulder.

  “You’re jumpy tonight,” Maggie said.

  “Hi, Maggie. Yeah, but I’m fine. I’m working on figuring things out.”

  “Ah. Are you making headway?”

  “Not much.” Jaylin stretched her muscles, slightly sore from her energetic run, and leaned her forearms on the table.

  “So, how is Kristen? Is she your dilemma?”

  “Yep.” Jaylin sighed and raised her eyes to Maggie. “Being with her, kissing her, her kissing me, is wonderful. It all scares me to death.”

  Maggie took a deep breath and expelled it. “Since you used the word wonderful, I’m presuming she didn’t ask you to do anything you didn’t want to do. Hence the feelings you’re afraid of.”