Chapter Seven. Monday morning was socked in with fog
Monday morning was socked in with fog. Beth rose around seven, thinking it was much earlier. She padded over to her bedroom window and was immediately struck by how thick the air had become. If God had decided to be chef that day, his plate du jour was obviously gray consommé. Though the weather was unusually dense, even for San Francisco, it hardly slowed anyone down. Monday morning was business as usual for the Coop’s residents. The only ones who hadn’t shoved off to work by seven thirty were Alder and Maureen. They were finishing breakfast when Beth strolled downstairs.
“Good morning, ladies.” Beth poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Beth, you look chipper. Did you take an obscenely early run or are you just adoring being with us?” Alder flipped through the pages of a newspaper.
Smiling, Beth sat down at the table. “Mary’s coming by at ten for a run.”
“I wish I could do the same today.” Maureen crunched on a piece of toast. “I need to get bikini-ready for my vacation to Mazatlan.”
“Mazatlan? That sounds like a great time.”
“Yes, and she’d better bring back some beer, like she promised,” Alder said. “Bohemia. Now, that’s a beer.”
Beth had tried a few Mexican lagers but she’d never heard of the beer Alder was talking about.
“It’s stronger than Dos Equis and Negra Modelo,” Maureen said. “It’s pretty good and hard to get, this side of the border.”
“That ought to charge up the next Coop party,” Alder predicated.
Beth laughed. “Like the Coop parties need sparking up. I’ve only been to one and it was a doozy.”
Alder shot her a sly glance. “It’s all in the company, right, Beth?”
“Yeah, uh-huh.” Maureen chimed in. “There were so many sparks between you and Mary, I told Alder to turn off the gas to the stove.”
Alder’s booming laugh rattled the table. Beth felt herself turning red but couldn’t help but join in. “You could embarrass a girl.”
Alder pointed to Beth’s face. “Looks like we already did.”
Maureen patted Beth’s arm. “We’re just joking with you because we really like Mary. And we can tell she thinks you’re a hottie.”
Beth felt a slight swirl in her chest. “She’s pretty…amazing, but probably half the people in the city think that.”
“More than half,” Alder corrected.
Maureen downed the rest of her coffee. “What’s that got to do with the price of condoms in San Francisco?”
“And more to the point, what are you going to do about it?” Alder asked playfully.
“Probably nothing.” Beth shrugged. “I’ve been pretty morose lately. Lord knows, that’s not too alluring.”
“You stop that,” Alder scolded. “She sees what we all see, a bright and beautiful woman.”
“Just look in the mirror,” Maureen said. “Besides, all you need to do is enjoy yourself while you’re here. You’re on vacation.”
Beth raised her coffee cup to Maureen. “Speaking of vacations, may yours arrive swiftly and pass slowly.”
“You said a mouthful, sister,” Maureen rejoined. “Oh, Lord. Look at the time. I’ll be late for work.” With that, she jumped up and placed her coffee cup in the sink. “Have a great day,” she called out as she headed for the front door.
“Are you working today, Alder?” Beth asked.
The older woman nodded. “Yes. It’s the American dream. Buy a house bigger than your budget will allow and spend years in debt.”
“But what a great place to be indebted to.”
“This is true. I can honestly say that I believe I have come home.”
A wonderful belief, Beth thought, a belief that eluded her at the moment.
“So.” Alder nudged her. “What’s on the agenda for later this afternoon?”
“Actually, I haven’t even given it a thought. Get lost somewhere, maybe.”
“There are lots of places to get lost around here.”
“Yeah?”
Alder nodded. “And in my experience, the more you try to get lost, the faster you end up finding yourself.”
“If you keep getting all philosophical on me, I might have to stop feeling sorry for myself,” Beth said wryly.
“Don’t you hate when other people won’t join the pity party?”
Beth feigned shock. “Are you suggesting one person crying in her beer is enough?”
Alder offered one of her sage smiles. “Did you notice your eyes aren’t puffy today?”
As a matter of fact, Beth had. “I guess I forgot to cry myself to sleep.”
“So it seems.” Alder left the table with a look of satisfaction. A few minutes later the front door clicked shut behind her.
Alone in the house, Beth read the newspaper, then climbed upstairs to shower and change into her running clothes. As she bent to tighten her shoes, a lone image came to mind of Mary stretching on the front steps after their run the day before. Beth laughed out loud thinking about being caught looking at Mary’s alluring legs. Mary’s face was beautiful. Her cheeks were pink from the physical exertion and her eyes twinkled with playfulness.
Beth stroked the calf Mary had massaged. It was slightly tender, and she rubbed her muscle briskly to warm it. She had thought about skipping the run, but she didn’t want to spend the whole day alone. More than that, she didn’t want to miss the chance to see Mary. She was already downstairs when Mary knocked, and she almost fell out of the door into her arms.
“You ready?” Mary asked.
“Absolutely.”
The weather was perfect. Though the air was a little chilly, the sun was shining, which would keep Beth’s hands and ears from getting too cold.
Mary walked with Beth out to the street, where they stopped to stretch. “How are the calves?”
“I soaked them last night. They’re pretty tight now, but if we start out slowly, they should warm up.”
She stretched her legs and thought of their last run. The conversation had been easy and comfortable, even when they touched on a few sensitive areas. She hadn’t enjoyed herself so much for a long time. She grinned remembering how she dashed off, with Mary chasing and finally catching her. And later, when Mary had massaged the horrible cramp out of her calf, she’d almost wallowed in the feel of those hands kneading her muscles.
For a new, and not to mention dangerous friend, Mary sure touched her a lot, and Beth did nothing to stop her. She was getting to like Mary even though she knew she should be cautious. Beth avoided the tempting sight of Mary’s long, sleek legs just inches away. It would be all too easy to brush against them accidentally, then linger for more. Mary certainly wasn’t averse to physical contact. She was seeking it out, if Beth was any judge of body language. She turned her attention to her watch, trying to steer her thoughts on track. She had a race to train for and would enjoy her time with her new running partner, but she’d also keep her guard up.
For the first mile, they ran a leisurely ten-and-a-half-minute pace, taking roughly a minute off their previous time. They didn’t push any harder. They needed to follow a disciplined training schedule so they would be fit for the distance without overtraining and hurting their performance on race day. Beth concentrated on her breathing. She could feel the tension beginning to ease in her calves. The rigidity in her muscles felt like pebbles, rather than the boulders she’d woken up with.
“That was a first-rate cramp last night,” Mary remarked as they worked into a relaxed stride.
“Muscle pain sucks.”
“All pain sucks.”
Beth wondered what pain Mary had endured in her life. “All pain?”
“Most pain.”
“Physical or emotional?”
Mary paused. “Physical and emotional.”
Beth thought about Mary’s life and the four lost years. She wondered about the fear that didn’t seem to show itself, but that Alder had referred to. Was it due to a bad breakup? Was there a family crisis or loss? Beth couldn’t imagine a confident person like Mary haunted by inner doubts.
“Have you ever had your heart broken, Mary?”
Mary was silent for a long moment. Her eyes seemed to focus on something distant. There was a sadness etched across her face, making her expression recoil as if she were wincing from a punch thrown to her stomach. Beth was just about to apologize for asking such a personal question when Mary finally spoke.
“Yes.” Her face relaxed but she didn’t elaborate. A slow smile erased the sadness. “How are you doing?”
“It just aches a little.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
Focusing on the thuds of their feet striking the earth in tandem, Beth let the comment register. The painful lump in the center of her chest no longer constrained her breathing. Over the past three days, she’d actually had periods of longer than an hour when she didn’t think about Stephanie once.
She glanced sideways. “I’m doing better. Thank you for asking.”
A gust of wind caught Mary’s hair, lifting tendrils of shimmering blond. Her broad smile and her bright eyes warmed Beth to her core. Mary was looking at her the way Beth sometimes looked at beautiful flowers, filled with awe that nature could render such perfection with seemingly careless abandon.
They ran in silence for a long while, and at first, Beth worried that she’d upset Mary by asking about the broken heart. She’d seen a change in her but couldn’t read the reason for it.
Eventually, after they’d turned toward home, she said, “I didn’t intend to be inquisitive.”
Mary slowed a little. “Everyone has their tender spots. If we don’t ask each other questions, we won’t know what they are.”
“Perhaps you’ll tell me about yours sometime.”
“If you really want to know,” Mary replied.
“I do.”
It was the truth. Beth wanted to learn who this woman was beneath her compelling charm. The urge made her anxious. The timing was all wrong. Yet she couldn’t dismiss the irrational sense that, since the moment she’d left L.A., nothing was entirely accidental. If she hadn’t found herself standing in front of the Coop three days ago, she would not have met Mary. And, right now, she would have been in a hotel on Fisherman’s Wharf, planning for her race alone and wondering what she was going to do when she returned to L.A.
“Beth?” Mary’s voice broke in on her racing thoughts after a while.
Turning toward her, Beth smiled. “Yes?”
“We ran past the Coop.”
In disbelief, Beth slowed down and took in her surroundings. She glanced back, and sure enough, the Coop was a block behind them. “Oh.”
They stopped and held their sides, laughing as they caught their breath. After a few stretches, they walked back, occasionally exchanging glances that left a lot unsaid.
When they reached the house, Beth asked, “Would you like to run again tomorrow?”
Mary replied just as impersonally, “You’re my running partner until the race, but tomorrow’s a rest day.”
“You’re right.”
As they spoke, the air between them seemed hazy with electricity. Beth knew she wasn’t imagining the heat in Mary’s eyes. Yet they continued making arrangements like neither of them was aware of the tension.
“I’ll pick you up at ten,” Mary said. “Bring a light jacket or sweatshirt, okay?”
“I thought we weren’t running.”
“We’re not. We’re walking.”
“Where are we walking?”
“Ocean Beach. You’ll love it.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Beth said, really meaning it.
“Get some potassium in you, okay?” Mary lifted one hand in a friendly wave as she jogged off.
Beth stared after her for a few seconds, dismayed that she hadn’t stayed to chat. Then she told herself it was probably fortunate. Where Mary was concerned, she was liable to made decisions she might later regret. Beth decided a new rule was necessary. Avoid temptation.