Chapter 4
Sean tiptoed from his room Monday morning, taking care not to wake Jace. He had on a well-worn sweat suit over a T-shirt and a pair of running shorts. Once he got to the park, he’d warm his muscles up with some stretches before stripping down to his running gear.
As he passed the dining room, a noise caught his attention.
His mom was sitting at the table with a steaming cup of coffee, her head bent over an open Bible.
The familiar sight washed warmth over him.
There was no way to count the times he’d seen her in that pose.
He’d grown up respecting his mom’s morning ritual.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she whispered without looking up. “Ready to leave?”
“Just about. Seeing you here like this brings back a lot of memories. Do you still get up early every morning?”
“I do.” She tilted her head and gave him a puzzled look. “That surprises you?”
Sean shrugged. “A little. I assumed now that you pretty much have the house to yourself, your routines would change.”
“This is still my favorite time of the day.” She looked around the cozy room.
“There’s something about a quiet house that makes me reflective.
It’s almost like I can hear all the dinners we shared around this table.
I have so much to be thankful for. Having you and Jace back home just about tops the list.”
When her gaze returned to him, Sean could tell there was more she wanted to say. He half expected a lecture, one he wanted to avoid, but he waited while she organized her thoughts.
“You know that thing about respecting your feelings?”
“Yeah.” Defensiveness colored the word.
“I want you to know that I’m praying for you.
God gave you to me, and I gave you right back to Him when you were a month old.
It’s been my greatest joy to watch both my boys grow into Christian men, husbands, and fathers.
I know you feel like your ministry is over, but God isn’t finished with you. Make me a promise?”
He didn’t want to make any promises to anyone, but this was his mother. “What?”
“That you’ll listen for His voice, and that you’ll come talk to me before you make any major decisions.”
A whimper sounded from down the hall, and Sean looked that way, glad for a legitimate excuse to end the conversation.
His mom was moving before he had time to leave the doorway. “Let me by.”
“I can get him.”
“So can I.”
Sean stepped out of her way. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“The interruption. Your quiet time won’t be the same with us in the house.”
She patted his cheek. “My babies have never been an interruption, they’re a blessing. Now, get out of here and have a good run. I’ll have him good and spoiled by the time you get back.”
Sean grabbed the gym bag he’d left by the front door the night before and let himself out of the house.
It’d been months since he’d taken his morning run without his son.
He’d miss the little guy this morning, but not enough to argue with his mom when she was determined to babysit.
Besides, Jace needed a woman’s touch in his life.
If it couldn’t be Brittany, then Grandma was a logical choice.
He pulled into the lot of the city park, turned off the car, and surveyed the activity.
There were probably twenty people milling around.
Most wore sweat suits similar to his. Even though the sky was a spotless blue and the sun was rising higher by the minute, the mid-November mornings could be chilly in this part of the country.
Some people stretched, others ran in place while working their arms and shoulders, and a few squatted on the ground, digging through gym bags.
The park had been here for as long as Sean could remember.
The playground equipment had seen a number of upgrades through the years but what caught Sean’s attention this morning was the gleaming surface of the new walking track.
It looked wide enough to accommodate four people abreast. He knew from his conversation with Benjamin that the track was a two-mile loop that circled the neighboring school.
He climbed out of the car. At least they wouldn’t be running over each other. Sean turned to close the car door, then took a quick step back.
Benjamin leaned carelessly against the back fender, scrolling through his phone. Where had he come from?
“’Bout time you decided to get out. What were you doing in there, taking a snooze?”
“Just getting my bearings. How can any place change this much and still be the same?” He motioned to a red-and-white structure several feet away. “I can’t believe that old rocket ship slide is still here. I remember racing you to the top when we couldn’t have been more than four.”
Benjamin put his phone away and threw his arm around Sean’s shoulders. “A race you lost, as I remember. Just like you’re going to come in behind me in the marathon.”
“You think whatever makes you comfortable.”
“I don’t think, I know.” Benjamin steered Sean toward the activity. “I’ll tell you another thing I know.”
“What’s that?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “You still got it.”
“It?”
“I saw you chatting it up with Monica last night, sharing food off your plate. You two looked plenty cozy. All I can say is, you go, bro.”
Sean stopped and faced his brother. “What are you, twelve? We were having a conversation. Nothing more.”
“You were having a conversation with the prettiest unattached girl in the room.”
Sean narrowed his eyes, wishing they contained laser beams like one of his childhood heroes. He’d singe his lunatic brother where he stood.
Benjamin held up his hand. “Don’t get all bent. You loved Brittany. We all did. But it’s been a year. I think it’s normal for you to be looking to fill that void.”
Sean shoved Benjamin’s chest. “Fill a void?” He took a step back and took a couple of deep breaths. How could his brother be so cavalier? “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Do me a favor and stay out of my sight.”
Sean nearly sprinted to an empty park bench, leaving his brother sputtering behind him. He plopped onto the bench and tossed his gym bag onto the grass at his feet. He loved his twin, he really did, but sometimes he wondered how they could have come from the same parents, much less the same womb.
“Fill a void,” Sean muttered as he bent to retrieve his running shoes.
Brittany’s death hadn’t left a void in his life.
What he had was a canyon carved out by a river of guilt, regrets, and should-haves.
And right now, that river was at flood stage.
He toed off his shoes, slid his feet into his Nike runners, and laced them up.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Sean looked up, raising a hand to shade his eyes from the sun’s glare.
Monica stood at the other end of the bench, a purple gym bag clutched in her hands. The light turned strands of her red hair into burning copper.
He continued tying his shoes as he bit the inside of his cheek.
Perfect.
He had an almost unbearable temptation to look around to see who might be watching. The last thing he needed was to give his brother another reason to think he had romantic designs on Monica Jenson. The thought brought him up short.
And I care about that, why?
He lifted his gaze back to Monica. She was about the only person he’d talked to since he’d been home who hadn’t left him defensive, angry, or sad. It was nice, seeing her here, knowing they had something in common other than a taste for black olives.
That did not have to equal romance.
When her forehead crinkled in a slight frown, Sean realized he’d been staring silently. “Sorry.” He motioned to the bench. “Take a load off.” Sean waited until she was seated to continue. “So, you run?”
“Yep.” Monica unpacked a pair of red Adidas runners. “High school track junior and senior year. How about you?”
“I didn’t start running until college. I was never good enough to be on the track team. Those guys had me outdistanced, outpaced, and outclassed. For me, it was never more than a hobby.”
“This your first marathon?”
“Yes and no.”
Monica brushed her fiery hair out of her face. “Yes, and no?”
“There was a Ten-K close to where we lived in Ohio. My wife and I ran it once.” Sean had to swallow as the words brought Brittany’s memory closer. “This is the first time I’ve run a full marathon.”
Monica stared off into the distance as if sensing that he needed time to collect himself. When she looked back at him, she said, “I ran this one last spring. I came in fifth.”
“Fifth is amazing.”
Her smile was mischievous. “If I told you that my fifth-place finish was in the half marathon, would I still be amazing?”
“Absolutely. Anyone who can finish a thirteen-mile run in fifth place qualifies as amazing in my book.”
“Thanks.” Monica stood. “Have you warmed up yet?”
“Not yet.” He touched her elbow. “Before we stretch can you tell me how the group works?”
“Sure.” She looked at the gathered runners.
“You see the guy in the bright orange running shorts? That’s Tim Ellison, our group leader.
He’ll start us off at seven o’clock. The track is a two-mile loop, and we run three laps.
Most of us use a smartwatch to track our time.
He’ll leave a clipboard attached to the fence for us to record our finish times on. It’s all pretty informal.”
Sean tapped the device attached to his wrist. “I came prepared.”
“I really do need to stretch.” She glanced down at her shoes, and when she looked up again, her expression was shy. “I’m sorry I cut our conversation short last night. We could finish it later, if you’ll let me buy you a cup of coffee after our run.”
He’d been enjoying their conversation, but now, it felt like the whole world came to a screeching halt.