When We Were Us Page 4

  Next to him, Aaron spat out his water. “An ultra?” He stared, mouth open, at Mark. “You want to move into an ultra?”

  Mark nodded.

  “By fall?”

  Mark nodded again. “I mean, I haven’t given it much thought,” he lied. “But I don’t see why not. We’re both in good shape. It gives us a goal.”

  “A goal?”

  “Right.” Mark drank again and wiped his mouth on his arm.

  “An ultra is not a goal, it’s a destination.”

  “Exactly. The Polar Peeks is exactly that. It’s at the end of September.”

  “That’s not enough time to train, man.” Aaron shook his head and laughed. “We haven’t done anything serious like that in years.”

  “We can handle it.”

  Aaron must have sensed the need in him because instead of protesting the way Mark was sure he would, he closed his mouth and simply nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay? Just like that?”

  “Well, not just like that.” Aaron chuckled. “We’re going to have to work some things out. Most notably, a training schedule.” He shook his head and grabbed his ankle as he pulled his leg into a stretch. “But…sure. Why not?”

  Mark let out a whoop that surprised even him. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted it until that moment. But the prospect of spending the next few months focused on a new goal excited him more than he expected.

  They spent the next few minutes stretching out their legs while Mark briefed Aaron on the ideas he had for a training schedule. It was rigorous, and it would keep them busy, but that was the whole idea.

  “How does Christy feel about all of this?”

  Mark avoided his cousin’s gaze and busied himself with stretching out his calf muscles. A muscle group he’d already attended to. “She’s fine with it.”

  “Really?” Aaron eyed him.

  “Well, not really.” He came clean. “I haven’t told her yet. But honestly, I think she’ll be okay with it.” Another lie, but not such a big one because the truth was, he had no idea how Christy would feel about it. He had no idea how she felt about anything these days.

  “That would be a bit of a change, wouldn’t it?”

  It would be a huge change. Aaron remembered, just like he did, how Christy felt about him training for ultra-marathons. She didn’t mind the long runs once or twice a week when he was training for a marathon. But the length of the runs and the time commitment changed drastically when you start talking about running an eighty- or ninety-kilometer race. Fifty miles was a lot longer than twenty-six, and the training increased appropriately. The last time Mark had trained for an ultra, Christy hadn’t liked it. At all.

  He’d been gone a lot. Early morning runs, all day on Sundays—it was a lot for her and they’d spent a lot of time apart.

  But maybe that was a good thing right now. And maybe that’s what she would think, too.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face in an effort to clear the thoughts from his head. He didn’t need to be thinking thoughts like that. Not right now. Mark was sure Christy felt it, too. The need to spend time apart and maybe…well, he didn’t know exactly what she was thinking. But he did know there was no way it could just be him feeling the distance between them. Something had shifted during their last treatment. She’d pulled away, and he couldn’t blame her. How could she not be disappointed in him?

  “You okay, man?” Aaron surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

  He jumped a little, yanked from his thoughts.

  “I mean, I know you…well…is everything okay?”

  Mark nodded and forced a smile. “As good as can be expected.” He dropped his leg out of the stretch he was still holding and clapped his hands together. “We should get moving. I need to be at the clinic in an hour.”

  Aaron didn’t push, and that was one of the things Mark appreciated about him. He knew if he needed to talk, his buddy would be there. But the last thing Mark wanted to do right then was talk.

  It was easier to run.

  By the time Christy heard the front door open, she had an Alfredo sauce bubbling on the stove, fresh pasta ready to go, and a big fresh salad, with a homemade Italian dressing she knew Mark preferred. The table was set and the bottle of wine was breathing. She’d stopped short of lighting candles. It seemed like overkill and a little too cheesy, but the mood was definitely set without it. Maybe they would even make love later?

  The idea of having Mark lying next to her, his body touching hers, just because they loved each other, and not for the purpose of trying to make a baby, excited her. And scared the hell out of her. How long had it been since they’d made love simply because they’d wanted to?

  She gave the sauce one last stir before wiping her hands on her apron, untying the strings and tossing it onto the counter before going to greet her husband. “Hey there.” She walked into the living room. “You’re home a little later than I expected. Busy day?”

  Mark was on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He looked up, startled, when he heard her voice. “I didn’t think you’d be out of—Christy?”

  She grinned and touched her hair tentatively. “Do you like it?”

  He nodded, but she couldn’t read the look on his face. “It’s…wow…”

  “Is that a good wow?” For the first time, she was starting to feel a little uncertain about her new look. She’d just assumed Mark would like it, because to be honest, she hadn’t really thought at all about what he’d think. He always liked how she looked. At least, he’d never said otherwise. “I mean, I wasn’t really planning on going red, but it just seemed like a good idea. I went in for a trim, or actually a major cut, but…” She was vaguely aware that she was rambling, but she really needed the look on his face to change. He was starting to worry her. “And then Stephanie asked me if maybe I’d like to try a color since I haven’t been able to dye my…well, just because I haven’t had anything different lately,” she amended quickly. There would be no talk about pregnancy or babies or any of that. Not tonight. “So, I thought…what the hell. I mean, it’s just hair, right?” She took a breath and swallowed hard, forcing herself not to cry. “You don’t like it?”

  As if a switch was flipped, Mark jumped to his feet and crossed the room. He reached for her hair and let the strands slide through his fingers. “Honey, I like it. I do. It’s just different. You took me off guard.”

  “You’re sure you like it?” The need to please him surprised her with its intensity.

  “I do.” He kissed her on the cheek. “And this is a new outfit, too.” He stepped back and took in her complete transformation. She spun around and put a little wiggle in her behind as she did so. “It’s cute.”

  Cute wasn’t totally what she was going for. More like sexy, or hot. But after almost twenty years of being together, she’d take it.

  Christy took her husband’s hand and led him toward the kitchen. “I made dinner. I thought maybe we could…” Could what? She couldn’t use the word celebrate. That didn’t feel right. “Mark this day,” she finally settled on.

  “What’s special about today?” He sat at the table, and once more, Christy had trouble reading his expression. He looked tired, but there was something else there too.

  She poured two glasses of wine and handed one to him. “Today is a new start, I guess. I can’t really explain it, but I was lying in bed and I had this realization that…well, that I just needed to get up and then—”

  “Get up?”

  She nodded. Christy didn’t have the first clue about how to explain to him what had propelled her to get out of bed that morning, undergo a transformation, and ultimately put a microphone in her hand. But despite the fact that she couldn’t articulate any of it, she still wanted to toast. She raised her glass. “To getting up.” It seemed easier not to explain at all.

  He gave her a strange look and raised his glass to hers. They clinked and each took a sip. She had to go slow or if she wasn’t careful
, she’d get tipsy. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed a few glasses, and after the one she’d had earlier in the day, she needed to be aware of how much she was drinking.

  “Dinner’s almost ready.” Christy turned back to the stove and carefully wrapped her apron around her new outfit before getting to work. “I made your favorite. Homemade pasta with a creamy Alfredo sauce and a big salad.”

  “Oh, honey, that sounds great, but we might have to scale back on the heavy foods. I kind of have my own get up moment to let you know about, too.”

  She turned, spoon in hand. “What’s that?”

  For the first time since coming home, his smile was genuine. “I was thinking of signing up for the Polar Peeks Ultra this fall.”

  The spoon fell to the floor with a clatter. Sauce splashed on her new pants and she cursed but didn’t bother picking up the spoon. “You’re signing up to do a what?”

  “An ultra.”

  “An ultra?”

  “An ultra-marathon,” he explained as if she were stupid and had no idea what he meant.

  She knew what he meant, all right. She knew all too well what he meant.

  On some level, Christy realized she sounded like an idiot, but she simply could not believe her ears. The last time Mark had trained for an ultra-marathon, she’d barely seen him. To say it had been hard would be a massive understatement. They’d both sacrificed a lot for him to achieve his goal. And he had. So why now? She asked him as much.

  “I don’t know,” he began. “It just seemed like kind of good timing with the…well, with the changes and everything going on around here.”

  “Changes?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She nodded and looked down at the floor, to the spoon sitting in the congealing sauce, the white splatters on her new pants, her own puffy feet that were in desperate need of a pedicure and all she could feel was a deep sense of whatever.

  Maybe she should have cared more about his decision. Maybe she should have told him no, that it was selfish and they needed to focus on each other and their relationship now more than ever. That the last thing they needed was for him to be off every night running for hours. But she didn’t. Instead, Christy bent down, picked up the spoon and dropped it in the sink.

  “Okay,” she said after retrieving a fresh spoon. “If that’s what you want to do.” Even to her own ears, she could hear the lifelessness in her voice and she hated herself for not telling him how she really felt. But with everything else…with everything she’d already disappointed him with…she couldn’t disappoint him by objecting to the race. It wasn’t fair.

  She didn’t look, but she knew instinctively that he was probably watching her carefully, waiting for a sign that she in fact was not happy with him racing.

  “And…you’re sure you’re all right with this?” He was hesitant, but Christy could also hear the twinge of excitement behind the question. He desperately wanted her to be okay with his decision.

  She was not okay with it. Not at all. She wanted him home. She needed him home with her, rebuilding what had been broken. But maybe that wasn’t what he wanted? Maybe he…

  “Yup.” She lied. “It’s fine.” She only wanted him home if he wanted to be there. She wasn’t going to force it. Christy still didn’t turn around. She busied herself putting pasta in the boiling water.

  “I know it takes a lot of time,” he said. “Maybe you could join a book club or something.”

  A book club?

  Christy turned then and pasted the biggest smile she could on her face. “I’ll find something to keep me busy, don’t worry.” An image of Jamie holding his guitar, watching her closely with those deep green eyes of his while she’d sang into the microphone, flashed in her mind and she immediately felt guilty.

  But excited too.

  Mark had his running to keep him busy, but it wasn’t as if she were without options. She still had Jamie’s number and his invitation to sing with the band. Christy had been so excited to tell Mark all about it, but now, in light of his own news, she no longer felt like sharing.

  They sat down to the meal she’d prepared, and Christy tried not to notice how little pasta Mark ate. But she couldn’t help but see that most of his plate was covered in salad, with very little dressing. She refused to let it bother her. Instead, she poured herself another glass of wine and tried to change the subject to anything but Mark’s rekindled desire to race.

  “How was work? Anything exciting today?”

  She knew he couldn’t talk about his patients, not really, but he’d usually tell her general details, leaving out anything specific and every once in a while he’d let something slip.

  Mark’s face changed. The stress lines around his eyes deepened at the mention of work. “It was a…it was a hard day, actually.” He put his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands.

  “Hard?” She put her fork down and focused her attention. “How so? Is everything okay?”

  He shook his head slowly. “Not really. But you know I can’t—”

  “I know you can’t say anything.” It was obviously not one of those situations where he was going to share information. “But if you want to talk, you know—”

  She was interrupted by her cell phone ringing. “Sorry, Mark. I’ll just go turn it off.” She jumped up to put her phone on silent. They had a strict rule about no cell phones at the dinner table, and she usually remembered to turn it off. “It’s Drew.” She reached for the switch that would silence the ring. “I’ll just call her—”

  “You should get it.”

  “What? But it’s dinner time. I’ll just call her back after.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You should take the call. I think I know why she’s calling. Take the call, Christy.”

  He looked so sad and serious all at the same time, Christy did as he suggested and hit the button to accept the call.

  Chapter Four

  After a night of tossing and turning, Cam wasn’t feeling rested and she certainly wasn’t feeling any better about the news she’d received the day before. She dragged herself to the shower and stood under the hot stream of water for longer than she needed to, before dressing and heading out to the kitchen where her fiancé, Evan, and teenage daughter, Morgan, were already at the table.

  “How are you feeling?” Evan greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and a mug of coffee. “Did you manage to get any sleep?”

  She shook her head and accepted the coffee gratefully.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” Her teenage daughter squeezed her in an uncharacteristic hug. “Evan told me about your…well…I’m sorry. I don’t really know what to say.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.” Cam walked to the window that overlooked their yard and her new photography studio. “And it’s okay. I don’t really know what to say either. In fact, I don’t think there is really anything we can say in these situations. We just need to be there for our friends.”

  “Speaking of friends.” Evan came up behind her and put his hand on her back. “When are the girls coming by?”

  Drew Ross, one of her best friends, had called unexpectedly the night before to tell her she was back in town. It had only been a few months since Drew had come back for the big reunion party. Cam hadn’t expected another visit so soon. But what she really hadn’t expected was for Drew to tell her that they’d moved back to Timber Creek so her husband Eric could live out his last days. Her husband was dying.

  The news had slammed into her. Eric was only a few years older than she was. Drew and Eric were high school sweethearts and now…he was dying? It didn’t make sense.

  But whether or not it made sense, it was happening and in only a few minutes, Drew would be sitting at her kitchen table and she’d have to…what? Cam didn’t know what she’d have to do.

  “Soon.” She leaned into Evan’s touch. It hardly seemed fair that just as Cam and Evan were rediscovering their love for each other, Drew was losing her true love. It wasn’t fair at all.
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  “Do you want us to be here?” Evan tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

  Cam considered Evan and Morgan, who was still watching with worried eyes, and shook her head. “No,” she said after a moment. “I think it would be best if it’s just us girls. I can’t imagine any of this is easy for Drew, and she’ll need us to be strong for her. I don’t want her to feel like she can’t let go because people are around, you know?”

  “It’s cool.” Morgan cleared her dishes to the sink and came to give her mom a hug that Cam accepted readily. They’d had some rough times, but things seemed to finally be settling down for Morgan now that they’d been in Timber Creek for a few months. “I have to head to work.” Cam squeezed Morgan tight. “I really am sorry, Mom.”

  Cam smiled at her daughter before she turned away. She really was turning into a kind, considerate young woman.

  “I’ll drive you, Morgan,” Evan said. “I think I’ll head over to Ben’s house and see how he’s doing with all of this.” Ben was Evan’s best friend, but also Eric’s little brother. The two brothers had been more or less estranged for the last few years, not spending much time together at all after Eric and Drew got married and moved away. If you asked Ben, it was because it was hard to keep in touch when there was so much distance between them, but anyone who knew Ben well knew it was because he had been in love with Drew since they were kids. And even though Drew never knew how he felt, it had killed a little something inside Ben when she’d chosen his older brother over him.

  “He must be devastated.” Cam moved to the counter and popped a piece of bread in the toaster. She wasn’t really very hungry, but she should eat something before the girls arrived. “I can’t even imagine…”

  “I know.” Evan ran his hand through his hair. “And if I know Ben, he’s probably not really dealing with it all. It’s a lot to process.” Evan gave Cam a kiss on the cheek and promised to call her later before he and Morgan left out the front door, leaving her alone.

  But she wasn’t alone for long. Cam had barely had time to eat her toast, forcing it down past the lump in her throat, before there was a knock on the door followed by Christy’s voice.