The Finish Line

by Vania Rheault

  “Why would I care? Ian, don’t start this.”

  “You didn’t know Brett was tired of the bar? He didn’t come over and pour his heart out?”

  “I’m at marathon headquarters all day. When would I have time to talk to him? The race is next weekend.”

  “At headquarters, then. He didn’t talk to you, tell you that he was fed up? Maybe ask for his job back?”

  He wanted a fight. Wanted somewhere to shove his fear and uncertainty, but she knew him well. Too well to take the bait.

  “Ian.”

  “What am I going to do? Brett wants out. Dane won’t sell to Jerry Overland. I don’t know if I want to run the bar without Brett, and I can’t afford to buy him out. Not now.”

  “He knows what the bar brings in. He knows if he cuts out you won’t be able to pay him yet. Maybe the money isn’t as important as his time. You miss Shyla and Hannah just as much as Brett misses Drew. It’s not hard to see his point of view. We talked about finding the time to marry, just like Brett said at the meeting. If he wants out, let him out. Under the stipulation you’ll buy him out over a five-year period or something like that. He’ll take it.”

  “Just let him go, just like that?” The idea nauseated him. They’d worked so hard, the three of them.

  “You can’t make him stay.”

  Marta pulled the empty bottle out of Hannah’s mouth. The baby blinked her sleepy eyes open and raised her arms for Ian to take her.

  He gathered her warm body to his chest and the little girl fell back asleep with her head on his shoulder.

  This is what mattered.

  Family.

  The love Marta had for him. Her patience, her understanding when he wanted to take punches at her and the entire world.

  He pressed a kiss to the top of his niece’s head. “I’m sorry.”

  She tucked herself into his side and kissed his cheek. “We found a rhythm and now Brett’s upsetting that. It made you scared and probably a little pissed, but it’s not the end of the world. I love you.”

  Gripping the back of her neck, Ian pulled her in for a kiss. She steadied his shaky world. “I’m sorry. I was a prick. I love you, too.”

  “Talk to Brett. Tell him you understand because it’s the truth. Then talk to Dane and figure out what his thoughts are. He’s pissed and feels like he’s living in Liz’s shadow, but Ian? The offer was really that generous?”

  “You want to think about selling The Finish Line?”

  “I think we should consider it. Did Jerry give you a deadline?”

  “No.”

  “Then think about it. If the offer is too good to pass up, then maybe you shouldn’t.”

  “I love that bar.”

  “Yeah, me too. But change doesn’t always have to be bad. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

  Change didn’t have to be bad.

  Marta had played the cards she’d been dealt, turning into a mother for Shyla, even a surrogate mother to Sadie and Hannah. She’d gone from career woman to family woman in the space of a few months. Without complaint.

  If she could change life directions with a smile on her face, then he could too, because what was important was their love for each other. Nothing else mattered, and in his panic, he’d forgotten that.

  “I’m going to sit with Hannah for a few more minutes.”

  “Okay.” She ran her hand over the back of Hannah’s head.

  Instead of heading upstairs, she shuffled into the kitchen. Five minutes later she set a mug of coffee on the table.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Ian?”

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s nothing between me and Brett.”

  Shame burned his cheeks. “I know.”

  “Then please stop throwing my relationship with him in my face when we have a disagreement. We should be done with that by now.”

  “I’d get over it faster if I didn’t have to see him all the time.”

  “Then maybe he’s doing you a favor. Don’t be long.”

  “I won’t.”

  It hurt his heart when she carefully navigated the stairs, favoring the ankle she’d broken. It still gave her a bit of trouble, and she held the rail as she limped up the stairs.

  He sat with Hannah until he couldn’t keep his eyes open another minute. After settling her in her crib, he crawled into bed where Marta waited.

  They would work out what would happen with The Finish Line.

  No matter what, they were together, and everything would work out for the best.

  Marta

  Marta sat behind her desk at marathon headquarters.

  Sadie had finals to take, and she’d dropped the girls at daycare on her way to work. Like any mother, she hated trusting someone else to take care of the babies she thought of as her children, but Shyla ran away giggling, already anticipating a day with friends. Hannah had latched on to one of the workers, and barely blinked when Marta waved and made a quick getaway like the parenting magazines recommended instead of drawing out a goodbye and risking tears.

  Ian had still been sleeping when she left with the girls strapped into the backseat of the minivan they’d purchased last year.

  He only brought up Brett when he was stressed out or feeling particularly insecure.

  Even though she understood his reason for his default reaction, she wished he’d stop doing it. It hurt her and after a year and a half he should have gotten over it by now.

  But if Dane was still stuck on what Liz had done to him, maybe moving on wouldn’t be so easy for Ian, either.

  She didn’t have any answers.

  All she could do was understand where he was coming from and remind him she wasn’t going anywhere. With as many times as she’d run out on him, that was on her and it was her responsibility to hang in there and fix it.

  They needed to get married. It would help both of them to say vows and make promises.

  It hadn’t helped Dane, though. Well, marrying had turned him around, but Nikki carrying her sister’s babies twisted him up. How Dane was handling that needed to be a worry for another day.

  Marta got to work making phone calls, ensuring deliveries, confirming the band and their start time for the finish line party. Next year she’d see about the bar catering the after-party.

  It would be good business and good marketing. Or maybe host a private dinner for the donors. She would talk to Ian and Dane about it.

  Crap. If they didn’t sell the bar.

  No wonder everyone felt on edge. Just when things were settling down, life decided to stick a foot out and make them fall flat on their faces.

  She was close to wrapping up her day and scooting out of headquarters when her cell phone rang. The number didn’t look familiar, but she answered anyway.

  “Hello. Marta speaking.”

  “Hello, Marta. I’m glad I caught you. This is Babbs Dresden with the Lady Slipper in Springfield. How are you doing?”

  She slipped down the narrow hallway and closed the door to a private office Brett had used to make the more important phone calls. Like Brett, she did most of the marathon business in the main room with the other volunteers. They were a family and they worked together, but Marta felt this call would take more of a personal bend.

  “Good. The marathon in Tower City is next weekend, so things are busy around here. And you?”

  Babbs ignored the question. “And your ankle?”

  Marta didn’t hide the truth. “It didn’t heal as well as my surgeon hoped, and I don’t run anymore. What can I do for you, Ms. Dresden?”

  “Has your attorney been in contact with you?”

  “My attorney?”

  “You did sue Gregory Spaulding for damages, didn’t you?”

  It had been so long ago Marta forgot all about it. “I guess I did.”

  “I heard from our attorney, and we won our suit against him and Libbie Layne’s stepsister. For a moment it appeared as if we were going to be held responsible for her being on
our course. But my attorney submitted race footage to show how chaotic the course is and how easy it would be for someone who doesn’t belong to blend in.”

  Marta had never blamed any part of the Lady Slipper for her injury. Race day was usually full of commotion, and what Babbs said was true. Anyone could be on the course. The Boston Marathon bombing was proof of that.

  “I’m glad the race isn’t taking any of the blame for my injury. I never blamed you or the race. Things happen. Runners hurt themselves without any help. That could have been me.”

  She forced a smile, hoping Babbs would hear the sincerity in her voice and hang up. She wanted to pick up her girls. Maybe she’d take everyone to The Finish Line for dinner. Shyla always got a kick out of Ian bringing her food to their table.

  “You should call your attorney. Ask him for the details.”

  “Thank you. I will.”

  She waited for Babbs to say her goodbyes but the older woman hesitated.

  “This has been hard on me. The investigation, the scandal. We may have escaped being held accountable but that doesn’t take your injury away, and it’s a regret I’ve lived with since the second you fell.”

  “You don’t have to feel that way,” she said touched she’d been on Babbs’s mind all this time.

  “That’s kind of you to say, but the race doesn’t have the same feel to me as it’s had in the past, and the October’s Lady Slipper will be my last.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’m sorry, too, but it’s time for me to retire. Marta, what are your plans? Are you happy directing that tiny marathon after organizing all those prestigious retreats?”

  “I’ve never thought about it. I’m more about my family these days. I’m engaged and in the process of adopting his daughter. Why?”

  Babbs sounded older than her years when she said, “I’m offering you my position. I’d take the next year to ease you in, but you wouldn’t need me for more than that. You have a good head on your shoulders. I would feel good leaving the Slipper in your hands.”

  “This is . . . unexpected.”

  “Not for me. I’ve been considering it for a while now. Not to mention, it would be good PR for the race. You dropped off the face of the earth, Marta. Speculation is rampant you blame the race for your career being destroyed.”

  She propped her feet on the desk. “I hadn’t realized.”

  “Well, I heard you turned down the coaching position at the school, and Spaulding’s position, too. Are you not committed to the running community anymore?”

  “It’s hard to feel part of a community doing what you can’t. When I announced my retirement, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

  “Then perhaps you won’t be interested in my offer after all.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. But, contact me after the marathon. If you can make the time, we could meet in person to talk about it.”

  “That sounds good, Ms. Dresden.” She paused. “It’s not that I dropped off the face of the earth. A wise man told me there’s more to life than running. I’ve been finding just how true that is.”

  “I’m happy for you. Keep in touch. And good luck to you and your race participants.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, but Babbs had already hung up.

  Out of curiosity, she touched base with her attorney. She contacted one because Ian had told her to, then she brushed it aside with personal issues. She agreed Spaulding should be held accountable for what he’d done to her, but she hadn’t followed the case. She didn’t know how involved Libbie Layne had been, or what happened to her stepsister.

  She’d been too busy with Ian, with Sadie and Hannah, and with mothering Shyla.

  On her way to the car she gave him a call.

  “Miss Braddock, I’ve been meaning to get in touch, but you beat me to it. You heard about the verdict, then.”

  “Ah, no. I actually just spoke with Babbs Dresden. She let me know the case was resolved.”

  “Yes, and in your favor. We didn’t want to go after the school, but that’s what happened. Gregory Spaulding was under the employ of the university and they should be held accountable.”

  Marta listened to the details as she drove to Shyla and Hannah’s daycare center.

  “Why didn’t I need to testify?” she asked, pulling into the parking lot.

  “We had the video of your accident, your statement, and the statement from your surgeon explaining the extent of your injury. You weren’t needed as a witness.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s not so unusual. Gregory Spaulding didn’t testify, either. His defense attorney thought it best, but in the end it didn’t matter. There was too much evidence stacked against him for his side of the story to do any good.”

  When her attorney told her the sum the court awarded her, Marta slammed on the brakes.

  “Did you add an extra zero by mistake?”

  Her attorney laughed. “Eighteen months later you still suffer from mild pain and you can’t run anymore. Because a man wanted his paramour in your position, he took away your livelihood. He’ll plea down and be let out on time served and good behavior, but his academic career is over. I’ve heard his wife is filing for divorce, but Ms. Layne is sticking by him. It’s kind of her—she’s all he has left after this whole nightmare.”

  Marta parked and turned off the engine. “Thank you for doing that for me.”

  “It’s what you paid me for, Miss Braddock. I’ll reach out when I hear more. Take care.”

  “Have a nice evening.”

  That kind of money could change things for her and Ian. They’d be able to afford a nice wedding and take the girls on vacation to celebrate.

  Ian could buy out Brett’s share of The Finish Line.

  There were possibilities within reach.

  When she went inside, Shyla launched herself into her arms and Marta buried her face in the little girl’s hair.

  A daycare staff member handed Hannah to her, the toddler beaming, ready to go.

  “Let’s go home, sweeties.”

  She had lots of news to share.

  Alyssa

  Thinking it time to start moving, Alyssa texted Nikki and asked if she felt up for a walk, and Nikki met her on the path behind the loft. The trails held a lot of memories for Alyssa. She’d put in several weeks of training with Brett for the runner’s manual through the park. It’s where he’d broken her heart. And where she’d broken his.

  She pushed Drew in his stroller, and at a snail’s pace, they started out.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  Nikki looked more tired recently, and with every day that passed, her belly grew bigger and bigger.

  “Tired. Sore. They move around a lot and I don’t get much sleep. I need to talk to Dane about cutting my hours at the store. He won’t like it, but I can’t help it. It’s hard to stay on my feet for so long. I’ll be glad when the marathon is over.”

  “I hope Brett’s announcement didn’t cause problems.”

  Nikki scowled. “Of course it did. The bar’s been open for barely a year and he already wants out. I get it, but their schedules won’t always be like that. Dane knows more about opening a business, I guess.” Her voice squeaked.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s not even Brett’s. When I married Dane, I knew he had some baggage and I thought we could work through it. Then he blows up and accuses Liz of gunning for him. We’ve had disagreements, but we had our first fight over Jerry Overland. It’s stupid.”

  Alyssa pushed Drew and took a deep breath of spring air. She hadn’t spent enough time outside. The sun lifted her spirits and Drew loved looking around. Hunter required more than what she’d been giving him, too. The dog sniffed the grass, his ears perking up as a flock of birds scattered from a tree, flying into the blue sky.

  After a rocky year, things were starting to smooth out. It wasn’t fair things were going bette
r for her, and now Nikki was miserable.

  “They can’t sell if they aren’t all in,” Alyssa said.

  “They could sell. Two against one. Dane can’t buy them both out. If Brett and Ian vote to take Jerry’s offer, then Dane would have no choice but to go along. I wish this had never happened.”

  “If it wouldn’t have been this, it would have been something else. Dane has always had an edge to him, Nik. Maybe you wore it down, but it didn’t go away.”

  “It’s the babies. He hates that I’m doing this for Stacy. He’s an only child and he doesn’t understand what it’s like to see your sibling hurting. I’ll never forget the joy on Stacy’s face when I told her I would surrogate. She couldn’t stop crying. I told Dane I wish I would have done it sooner. Then it wouldn’t have caused problems.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That I was too busy chasing rich guys to think of it.”

  “Oh, honey. That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “I know. That’s why I can’t understand it. I want to go stay with Stacy until the babies are ready. But running didn’t help last time, and it won’t help now.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Nikki smiled, blinking back tears. “No, but thanks. I’m hoping things will go back to normal after the babies are born. But this Jerry Overland crap will have to come first. I doubt he’ll give the guys too much longer to decide.”

  They finished their walk in silence, Hunter’s nails scraping the cement, Drew cooing at the clouds, eventually falling asleep.

  They parted ways when they finished the loop. She would ask Brett to talk to Dane.

  Anything could help.

  Brett

  “That won’t help. And the last person he wants to talk to is me.”

  “But Nikki’s miserable.”

  Brett shook his head and set the table. Drew slammed a toy on his highchair tray and let out a yell of happiness.

  “Someone’s in a good mood.”

  “I took him out earlier. The fresh air did him some good.”