by Emily King
“If she’s gay, that’s good, right?” Justin asked.
“It would be if she weren’t also so unfriendly. Come on, let’s finish our jog.”
* * *
After dinner, as Amy sat in a comfy chair in her condo, trying to read a fitness magazine while Sandy was curled up on her lap, she found herself instead thinking of her interaction with the jogger at the beach. The woman had been on her mind throughout the day, and Amy still felt bad about misreading her.
She wished that she hadn’t been so quick to judge the blonde and lump her in with all of the attention-seekers at the beach. Just because there’d been a few instances of flirtatious beachgoers didn’t mean that everyone was there to hit on the lifeguards. The fact that she had happened to look at her breasts didn’t necessarily mean that she’d wanted anything beyond an answer to her question about math. She herself had acted no better when she had ogled the woman from behind her sunglasses. She wondered how much more pleasant their conversation could have been if she hadn’t jumped to conclusions about her intentions.
“What do you think, Sandy?” she asked as she stroked her cat’s fur. Sandy purred and drooled, content to leave her to her inner turmoil.
Amy was out of practice at flirting and dating. This past year, she had been too focused on getting back in shape for lifeguard tryouts and then on working as a lifeguard to flirt or date. Her last several dates before that hadn’t worked out very well either. They hadn’t resulted in much more than a few hookups, perhaps because most of the women had sensed her discontent with her work at the auto dealership and quickly moved on.
A couple had lingered, but she knew that it had more to do with them liking her beachfront condo than Amy herself. She had learned that it was better not bring dates here, at least not at first, and instead go to their places. For the same reason, she rarely mentioned that she owned and managed an auto dealership and instead vaguely said that she worked at an auto dealership on the occasions that she was asked about work. She supposed that when it came to dating she’d become a bit jaded.
Her last actual relationship had been around the time of the startup of her dealership. She hadn’t been able to devote much time and attention to the woman she was seeing then, and the relationship had foundered.
“I’ve got time now,” she said aloud. When Sandy looked at her, she petted her head and sighed. Time enough, apparently, to sit home on a Saturday night and talk to the cat. Maybe it was time to try for a relationship again? That would entail dating again, of course, and hoping that it would lead to something more substantial and more satisfying than just one-night stands.
Sandy yawned, stretching her mouth open wide and enabling Amy to glimpse what looked like a red area around a tooth. “Oh, Sandy, what is that? Let me see that again.”
She held her and gently pried her jaw open for another look. It wasn’t easy, but when she did she saw an inflamed area around a tooth and got a big whiff of bad kitty breath.
She released Sandy, who jumped down to the floor and gave her a displeased look. “I know, Sweetie. I’m sorry.” She went over to pet her soothingly. “But that tooth doesn’t look good. I think a trip to the vet is in order.” It had been a while since she had taken Sandy in, and she wasn’t sure she still had the vet’s number. She grabbed her phone off the side table to check. She’d do an Internet search if she didn’t have it.
Her eyes widened when she saw an email notification on the screen. It was from the job application portal of the city of South Coast Beach, the website through which she had submitted her application for the instructor position with the junior lifeguard program. Had the hiring decisions been made? Her stomach was in her throat, but she didn’t hesitate to tap to open the message.
“Yes! Got the job!” Amy let out a whoop of joy and jumped up and down. Her preparations and hard work were paying off, making the decision to take a break from her dealership that much more meaningful and the additional criticism likely to come from her family more bearable. She still had to find a buyer for her dealership, but she was so very excited about working in the junior lifeguard program that she would worry about that ever-present problem later. She already knew what her first duty as an instructor with the junior lifeguard program would be—working the tryouts next weekend!
Now about Sandy’s tooth… Amy thumbed to her contact list for the vet.
Chapter Five
“It sure is crowded here,” Sarah said, observing the rows of cars through the passenger window of Justin’s car as he pulled into the parking lot of South Coast High School, where the junior lifeguard tryouts were being held. While he could have walked and had her meet him here, he had kindly driven to her house to pick her up.
“Yeah, this seems to be a popular place,” he said with a smile. “Thanks again for coming here with me.”
“No problem. It’ll be fun to cheer on our students.” Sarah paused. “But do you think it’s okay that we’re getting here with the event already part of the way through? We’re probably going to miss some of our students. I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”
“I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. I only told mine I would stop by. Watching the whole thing would take most of the day. It should be fine to miss a couple of hours. And who knows if they’ll even notice us in the audience? They’ll be busy swimming.”
“Okay, but let’s try to make sure that we see some of both our seventh graders and eight graders.”
“Yeah, that would probably be the best plan.”
They found a parking space and made their way toward the sounds of splashing and cheering carrying from the school’s outdoor swimming facility. Pausing inside the entrance, they took in the kids swimming in the eight lanes of the huge, sparkling, Olympic-size pool, the other excited kids on the sidelines, the enthusiastic crowd in the stands, and the handful of adults in red and white lifeguard uniforms.
Justin studied the posted signs for “Home” and “Visitors” and then turned to her. “Where should we sit?” he asked over the noise.
“Probably anywhere is fine, since it isn’t an actual sporting competition.”
“Okay, let’s go over—” He looked past her shoulder. “Hi, Peter!” Justin smiled and waved.
She turned around to see Peter approaching with a friendly smile.
“Hi, I thought I recognized you both! Sarah and Justin, right? Nice to see you again.” Peter shook their hands. Today, he was dressed in what Sarah recognized as a South Coast Beach lifeguard uniform of red shorts and a white polo shirt with the lifeguard emblem on it.
“It looks like you’re working this gig,” Justin said.
Peter chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m supervising today’s tryouts. My junior lifeguard instructors are the ones running the show right now, though, so I was able to get away for a moment.”
“In that case, do you have a second to tell us how this works?” Sarah asked. “Some of our students are swimming today, and we came by to cheer them on.”
“That’s really great,” he said with a smile. “Hannah got here not long ago. I’m sure she and the others will be glad for your support.” He paused. “As for how this works, we’ve got tryouts all weekend and then a few sessions during the week for people who couldn’t make it this weekend. Today, we’ve got our younger kids swimming. Tomorrow will be high school-aged kids. Either way, what the kids have to do is complete a three-part swim test.”
He gestured to the kids in the pool. “Right now, they’re doing the 100-meter swim. It’s noncompetitive, meaning that the kids are trying to beat the clock, not each other. If they succeed in swimming the distance within the given time frame, they move on to the next tests, which are swimming underwater without a breath for a certain distance and then treading water for a certain amount of time.”
“Sounds tough,” Sarah said.
“It’s tough, but doable. We want to make sure everyone is able to swim well enough to be safe when we get them in the ocean for the pr
ogram.”
“Makes sense,” Justin said. “Did we miss all of the seventh graders, or are some still swimming?”
“Actually, the kids swim on a first-come, first-served basis.”
“Okay, great,” Sarah said. “If each group can be a mixture of different grades, we’ll see some of both levels of our students.”
Peter nodded. “Speaking of that, there are a couple of other teachers here. They coach the swim team here at the high school, and they’re helping us out with some of the facilities. If you want to join them, they’re sitting over there.” He pointed to a section of the stands.
Sarah turned to look. As soon as she saw the pair of teachers sitting there, one of whom was a young, good-looking man about their age, she knew what Justin’s answer would be.
“That’s fantastic,” Justin said. “We weren’t sure where to sit.”
Why did he have all the luck finding potential dates? The gray-haired woman sitting with the man wasn’t unattractive, but she looked to be about retirement age and therefore probably close to four decades older than Sarah. She hoped she would at least be pleasant to talk to while Justin flirted with the guy.
She walked over with Justin and they introduced themselves. The woman seemed friendly enough. Her name was Doris and she was a history teacher. Ron was an economics teacher. Sarah and Justin took seats in the row of bleacher seats with them as the next group of swimmers was getting into the pool.
Ron and Doris clapped for the swimmers, and Sarah and Justin joined in.
Justin turned to Sarah. “With the kids all in goggles and swim caps, I’m not sure I can tell who my students are.”
“Me neither. I guess we can just cheer everyone on since they’re really just racing against the clock, not each other.”
“Works for me.”
The kids were now lined up in the pool. When the lifeguard at the head of the pool blew the starting whistle, they kicked off the wall and started swimming. Sarah and Justin joined everyone in clapping and cheering again. Cries of “Go, go!” and “Kick, kick!” sounded from members of the crowd as the swimmers stroked freestyle down the length of the huge pool and back. When the laps were complete, the kids climbed out of the pool and got their times from the lifeguards on their lane, learning whether they had qualified to move on to the other swim tests. Several of them made fists of victory.
Justin was leaning over and chatting so much with Ron that Sarah made him change seats with her. She now sat by Doris and attempted to make conversation between the sessions. “How long have you been the swim coach?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve been the coach for as long as I’ve been teaching here—almost too many years to count,” Doris said with a laugh. “And long enough that a couple of the lifeguards working here today were on my swim teams.”
“That must make you proud,” Sarah said.
“Yes, yes it does,” Doris nodded. “Those were also the years we won the regional swim championships and then went on to have winners in events at the state championships.”
“That’s very impressive,” Sarah said.
“Thank you. As matter of fact, there’s one of my state champs right over there.” Doris pointed to a woman in red shorts, white polo shirt, wide-brimmed hat, and sunglasses who had bent over to help a young swimmer put on her swim cap.
Sarah stared, immediately recognizing her as the lifeguard she had talked to at the beach. She’d been too focused on chatting and trying to spot her students among the swimmers to notice her sooner. But now that she had, and even though she was wearing a hat and different attire this time, there was no mistaking that toned body or that beautiful face.
And the young swimmer that she was helping was Mandy! Sarah was careful not to play favorites with her students, but she couldn’t help feeling a connection with a fellow Midwesterner. She mentally wished her luck today. As Sarah watched the lifeguard patiently demonstrate to her how to stretch the swim cap wide in order to put it on without pulling her hair and how to situate it to cover her ears, she felt herself smile. Once the cap was adjusted, the lifeguard straightened and pointed Mandy in the direction of a group of swimmers. Mandy thanked her and hurried off to join the others.
“Do you know Amy?” Doris asked, regarding Sarah with a curious expression.
Sarah blinked herself out of her daze. “Um, Amy?” Sarah repeated. Was that the woman’s name? She liked it. “No, not really. I was at the beach last week and happened to ask her a question, but we didn’t really…we don’t really…”
She trailed off as the woman she now knew as Amy began to stride closer on those toned legs. She was coming over. Sarah wondered what Amy could want to say since their conversations seemed invariably to go badly. She hoped she wasn’t upset about something again, but at the same time she looked forward to talking to her. Then again, she could be stopping by just to see Doris.
Before she knew it, Amy had climbed the stairs into the stands and stopped next to their row of bleacher seats. She removed her hat and ran a hand through her hair. Sarah wondered if her hair was as soft as it looked. She had another urge to run her hand through it. Then she remembered how difficult Amy had been last week and schooled her desires.
Amy gave a brief smile of acknowledgment to her former swim coach, whom she had no doubt chatted with earlier, and then faced Sarah. “Hi,” she said with a smile. “I thought I recognized you again. I wanted to—”
“Wait a second—there isn’t much room up here to talk,” Sarah said, cutting her off in case she was going to rehash their awkward conversation from the tower. She didn’t particularly want to do that in front of an audience. A glance at Justin and Ron informed her that they were so engrossed in their conversation with one another that they hadn’t noticed anything, but Doris was still an audience who didn’t need to hear any possible drama. “Why don’t we go down there?” She gestured to the base of the stands and stood.
“Okay.”
Excusing herself to Doris, Sarah stepped into the aisle where Amy was waiting. A pleasant feeling of heat rushed through her body when she slid past her to lead the way down the stairs. Keeping her desires in check was not working very well. She descended the stairs, Amy following. When they reached the bottom and moved out of way of the other spectators, she turned to face Amy. “What was it you wanted to say?”
Amy took a breath. “I wanted to apologize again for last week. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Okay,” Sarah said. She accepted this apology, just as she had the one at the lifeguard tower, but she wasn’t going to make this conversation easy for her. She was still stung by the brush-off that day.
“No, I mean it. I was rude—again.”
“It’s okay. You already apologized.”
Amy pursed her lips as though unconvinced of Sarah’s acceptance, but she seemed to recognize that she couldn’t push the issue without seeming rude yet once again. Her lips were beautiful, and Sarah had to tear her gaze away. She wanted to be able to keep her wits about her this time.
“So, what are you doing here?” Amy asked.
Sarah frowned. Was she being accused of something? She had as much right to be here as the rest of the attendees. Was this the real reason Amy had wanted to talk to her? Had the offer of an apology only been a lead-in to an interrogation?
Maybe Amy had something against math teachers? Sarah gave in to the impulse to lay some more math talk on her and find out. “Maybe I came here today for a friendly discussion of formulas that might be used to calculate the volume of this pool,” she said, sweeping her arm toward it.
Amy raised her eyebrows in surprise, and Sarah wished she could take back her deliberately provocative answer. It seemed Amy hadn’t intended to be quarrelsome. Maybe her question had been innocuous, just as her own question at the lifeguard tower had been. Amy may only have asked why she was here out of curiosity and may not have been implying anything. Sarah opened her mouth to apologize and to tell her that she was here to cheer on her
students, but Amy spoke first.
“Since this pool is rectangular and of constant depth, the question of which formula to use to calculate its volume would be a simple one.” She quirked her lips into a teasing smile.
At the unexpected answer and smile, Sarah smiled in return. Maybe they could have a congenial conversation after all. “You’re right. So maybe you aren’t anti-math or sexist.”
“What? Anti-math or sexist? Is that what you thought?”
Sarah shrugged. “Sure, I get it all the time, even from women. Some women have internalized sexism, believing like some men that girls can’t do math.”
Amy frowned. Whether the frown was in confusion over the idea itself or in disapproval of it, Sarah didn’t know. “Just like some gay people have internalized homophobia,” she continued.
Amy blinked. “The notion that girls can’t do math is not an issue for me.”
“Good,” Sarah said.
“Nor is internalized homophobia, for that matter. I’m out and proud.”
So, she was a lesbian. “Good to know.” Sarah smiled. “So am I.”
“Good to know, indeed,” Amy said, smiling back warmly now. Sarah liked having that smile directed at her. “And just so you know,” she continued, “algebra is not something I get asked about every day at the beach.”
Sarah chuckled. “No, I suppose not. I didn’t mean to throw you off your game that day,” she teased.
Amy shook her head, chuckling too. She extended her hand. “I’m Amy. What’s your name?”
“Sarah.” She shook her hand, glad for the introduction despite already knowing her name and enjoying Amy’s firm but gentle grip and the warmth of her touch.