by Emily King
With one of the trimmed pieces of toast, Amy dabbed up some of the hollandaise and popped it in her mouth. The food was delicious, as always. It alone was reason enough to come to brunch. She’d already had toast and eggs for breakfast, but Emilia took them to another level.
“You’re awfully quiet over there, Amy,” Aurora said.
Amy raised her head to find her sister’s gaze and everyone else’s gazes on her. Having been lost in her thoughts while enjoying her food, she had no idea what the topic of conversation was. In truth, she hadn’t been making the effort to pay attention. She didn’t feel like she was part of many of the conversations at brunch anymore now that she had taken a different job.
At previous brunches, she had tried telling some work stories and describing her activities as a lifeguard, but her family’s only responses had been some polite nods and a few utterances of “Is that so?” so she had stopped mentioning any of it—including the very important fact that she had changed over from her initial seasonal lifeguard position to a permanent one. She knew they wouldn’t take that news well at all.
But she was happier at work than she had been in quite a while; she wished she hadn’t waited so long to explore her childhood dream of becoming a lifeguard. She was only thirty-one: not at all too old to start a new career path. She hoped to take this new career path even further by becoming an instructor in the junior lifeguard program.
The SCB junior lifeguard program was what had enamored Amy of lifeguarding. Starting in junior high school, she had done the program each summer. Initially, her parents had been wary of signing her up for the program because they wanted her to work in the family business, not grow up to become a lifeguard. But she had reassured them that she just wanted to swim, kayak, surf, and do all of the other things that kids got to do in the program, not become a lifeguard, and they had relented. They couldn’t very well argue against practicing swimming and other water skills.
It wasn’t until subsequent years, as Amy excelled in the program and eventually reached junior lifeguard captain status with Peter, her best friend then and still, that the thought of becoming a lifeguard seriously entered her mind. However, she had been thrown for a loop when Peter professed his love for her their final year of the program. She and Peter had been close, but she had no idea that he felt the way he did. She hadn’t thought of him romantically and it was hard to tell him that without hurting him. What she wanted to say but didn’t feel that she could at that point in her life in high school was that she wasn’t into any guy romantically, despite having dated a few. She already knew that she preferred females. The whole ordeal made their senior year very awkward and going off to college to get away held a lot of appeal. The decision to do so was made even easier when her performance on the high school swim team netted her a scholarship. She made the decision to major in business administration, because her family business was what she knew. Peter stayed in South Coast Beach and became a lifeguard.
She and Peter lost touch that first year she was away at college, but as soon as she came back for summer break, they ran into each other at the beach. The encounter was strained, but when she gathered her courage and came out to him, he gave her a big hug and things had been immediately better between them. They stayed in touch over her remaining college years and when Peter fell in love with another woman, Amy was very happy for him. She attended his wedding and met his wife, Tammy, a manager of a department store. Amy’s and Peter’s renewed closeness fortunately didn’t seem to bother Tammy.
Seeing Peter’s happiness as a lifeguard as she worked, not so happily, at her dealership had made Amy wonder what it would have been like had she also stayed and become a lifeguard. She said as much to Peter one day and he encouraged her to find out. At first, she laughed. She knew what lifeguard tryouts consisted of: things like timed 1,000-yard and 500-yard open water swims and a 1,500-yard continuous run-swim-run. The 500-yard swim would be similar to the 500-meter freestyle that she used to swim in both high school and college, but the 1,000-yard swim would be another matter. One thousand yards was just over 900 meters, which was eighteen laps of an Olympic-size pool. While she still swam and maintained a certain level of fitness with windsurfing and other activities, her college swim team days were behind her. She would have a lot of training to do to be competitive against what she knew would be a few hundred other very good swimmers vying for the available lifeguard positions, especially since swimming in the cold, choppy ocean was a lot different than swimming in a pool.
The thought of doing the lifeguard tryouts stayed in her mind, though. She soon created a training regimen for herself. Countless beach runs, sprints, swims, pushups, lunges, and planks later, she got herself into competitive shape again. It felt good. She joined Peter in some of his workouts, and by the time lifeguard tryouts arrived in January she was ready. The ocean temperature on the day of tryouts was a bracing fifty-eight degrees Fahrenheit, but the most difficult thing about the timed open ocean swims was swimming in such close quarters with the frenzied crowd of contenders. There were no marked lanes in the ocean like there were in a swimming pool. It was a free-for-all of rapidly churning arms and legs, and she was accidentally kicked in the face a couple of times. Despite the difficulties, she placed well enough in the tryouts to be able to interview that very day. When she was hired, it felt like she finally had a job that fit.
She supposed she could try telling her family about her renewed interest in the junior lifeguard program. “So…I submitted an application to become an instructor for the junior lifeguard program.”
Her father looked up from his meal and squinted at her. “That thing you did when you were a kid?”
“Yes, but this time I would be one of the instructors.”
“Huh.”
She wished she hadn’t said anything. She didn’t know if her dad or the rest of her family would ever understand that she had dreams and passions outside the family business. And she was already nervous about her application for the junior lifeguard instructor position. It was a bit of a long shot this early on. She only had three months under her belt as a lifeguard after receiving her general lifeguard training, which was the bare minimum amount of time required to be eligible as an instructor for the junior lifeguard program, but she hoped that with what she felt was a strong performance in the interview, her history with the program, her good job standing, and a recommendation from Peter, who was the assistant coordinator for the program, she would get one of the few positions open this spring. It would be very satisfying to give back to the program that had given her so much during childhood, and she was eagerly awaiting the day when the hiring decisions would be announced.
Amy wracked her brain for a safer topic of conversation, one that would interest her single-minded family. Remembering the crowd that she had seen admiring the display of luxury vehicles from her dealership at the plaza by the pier yesterday, she spoke again. “I wonder how much extra foot traffic and sales the dealership will see from my display of hybrids at the Earth Day event yesterday.”
“Oh, so you’re already missing the business?” Aurora asked.
Amy took a breath. She should have known her comment would draw a jab even though she had signed on as a sponsor for the SCB Earth Day event almost a year in advance, long before she had taken her lifeguard job. She had asked her parents and sister if they wanted to participate and bring vehicles from their dealerships as well, but they had declined, saying it would be a waste of time and money. She didn’t understand their resistance; people who were interested enough to participate in Earth Day would be exactly the type of people who would be interested enough in green technology to buy a hybrid vehicle.
She had ignored her family’s protestations and decided to sponsor the event herself, having grown more and more tired of everyone trying to tell her how to run her business. She liked having the ability to support the community event while at the same time being able to enhance awareness of her dealership and potentially attra
ct new customers. Her family was more comfortable with more traditional marketing ideas. It was just as well; they had yet to fully embrace green technology, so none of their dealerships carried the full line of hybrids anyway.
Amy decided to ignore her sister’s jab. “The sales guy I had working the event said he thought the display went over very well. A handful of people even made appointments to come in for test drives.”
Her father cleared his throat. “If there’s an increase in sales, it certainly won’t be enough to pay off your dealership loan.”
Amy took another breath. “Of course not, Dad,” she replied in a more reasonable tone than the comment warranted. Her father constantly reminded her that she owed money to the bank. He had co-signed the loan to finance the startup of her dealership, just as he had years ago for Aurora. Apparently, he now thought Amy would default and stick him with the remainder of the loan payments. She wished he knew that she would never let things come to that point.
“Don’t worry, I’ll pay off the loan, just like I paid off the one for my condo.” Amy was very glad that the condo was hers free and clear. She wished that she were there right now, instead of at this table facing the ongoing disapproval of her family. At her condo, the only disapproval she encountered was when she tried to give Sandy a flavor of cat food other than chicken. She wondered if she could use the excuse of needing to go shopping for a new blanket for Sandy in order to leave brunch early.
Chapter Three
Sarah sat at a table in the teachers’ lounge before the start of the school day, sipping coffee from her commuter mug and chatting with the other teachers.
“Happy Monday, everyone,” Justin said as he breezed through the door. The other teachers, many of whom had not yet had their quota of coffee, responded with mostly grunted greetings. He took a seat by Sarah.
“And happy Monday to you,” Sarah said. “You’re more chipper than usual this morning. What’s up?”
“Must be my invigorating bike ride to work.”
“You rode your bike?’
“Mm-hm. I’m still feeling inspired by my ride to your house on Earth Day.”
Guessing that probably wasn’t the whole reason, she waited for more.
“Not only that, but I have to get in shape for that Fun Run next month. I haven’t been doing my cardio,” he said, making a sad face.
“I better start getting ready for that, too. I went online and registered for the run, but I haven’t done much jogging yet.”
“I registered, too. Want to go for a jog this coming weekend?”
“Sure, how about on Sunday?”
“A Sunday jog.” Justin tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll have to cancel my Sunday drive, but I like it. I’ll ride my bike over again.”
Marsha Jackson, one of the physical education teachers, came to stand near them at the table. “You’re doing the Fun Run, did you say?”
“Yes,” Sarah answered. “It’s to raise money for the city’s junior lifeguard program.”
Marsha nodded. “I know. I’m doing it, too. I wondered if you would like flyers for the program to post in your classrooms. I’ve already posted them around the locker rooms and have some extras.”
“Can we do that?” The school had policies about posting things for which entrance fees were involved.
“Oh, yes, it’s fine. I post them every year. The program has a certain number of scholarships for kids whose families can’t pay the registration fee. That’s part of what the Fun Run raises money for, you know.”
“Oh, okay,” Sarah said. “I’m still learning about the program. I’d be glad to put up a flyer.”
“Me, too,” Justin said.
“Great, I’ll give them to you at lunch break.”
After lunch, Sarah returned to her classroom with the promised flyer. She began taping it to a prominent space on the wall as her eighth-grade algebra students started filing in. She turned to greet them and then returned to her task. When finished, she took a seat at her desk and began leafing through her lesson plan, idly listening as students commented on the flyer. Many sounded interested.
After she took roll call, one of her students raised her hand.
“Yes, Mandy?” Sarah said. Mandy was also originally from the Midwest and had moved here even more recently than Sarah. She was a good student, but Sarah worried that she was having trouble fitting in.
“Ms. Wagner, I saw the lifeguard poster and I was just wondering…do lifeguards use algebra?”
Sarah blinked. That was not a question that she had anticipated getting as a result of posting the flyer, even from Mandy. However, this was a math class, so it wasn’t unreasonable for the students to wonder how the junior lifeguard program pertained. There were a few titters from Mandy’s classmates, but Sarah knew that she was asking out of curiosity rather than to be difficult. She hastened to answer before Mandy became embarrassed. “In the normal course of their jobs, no, I wouldn’t think that lifeguards use algebra. Basic math skills are probably enough.”
“Oh,” Mandy said, sounding disappointed.
“However,” Sarah said, approaching the dry erase board and picking up one of the markers there, “advanced math skills like we’re learning can be useful in almost any situation—even at the beach.” She didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to maintain Mandy’s apparent interest in the tryouts, because it seemed like tryouts and the junior lifeguard program could be a great place for Mandy or even the other students to make more friends from the area.
Uncapping the marker, she wrote out a math problem involving how long it would take a lifeguard—she had in mind a very specific, very gorgeous lifeguard on South Coast Beach—to get to a rescue by a certain route that involved a combination of running and swimming. After taking her students through the problem and answering questions, she hoped she had piqued their interest further. She made a mental note to try and follow up with the lifeguard from the beach to make sure she had provided correct information to her students about lifeguards and math.
Chapter Four
Amy walked up the ramp of her lifeguard tower Sunday morning, glad to be at work and not brunch this week. She hung her rescue can, her main piece of lifeguard equipment, on the hook on the tower’s eave. The “can,” a red plastic float with handles, was attached to a line and harness and could be used during rescue as a flotation device or for signaling. She unlatched and opened the window coverings on the front and sides of the tower’s cabin, unlocked the tower door, and let herself in.
Cool air greeted her and Amy gave a brief shiver. Like the beach itself, the tower was often chilly in the morning. Amy envied Sandy her new blanket, snuggly and warm. After she had washed and dried it so as not to offend Sandy with new blanket smells, she had arranged it on the bed. Sandy had sniffed it suspiciously but laid down on it. As soon as she had felt the soft, fuzzy material, she had rolled around on it in delight and started kneading it with her front paws. Seeing that had put a big smile on Amy’s face and made her glad she had bought another exactly like it for Sandy’s favorite spot on the couch. Sandy was enjoying the little blanket so much that Amy was tempted to get one for herself.
Settling into her chair at her tower windows, Amy started scanning her assigned area. This early in the day, mostly walkers and joggers populated the beach. Occasionally, someone ventured out ankle deep to feel the water, but the only people swimming now were a few body boarders wearing wetsuits. The surfers were down by the pier, out of her zone. Some seagulls took flight with a squawk when a man searching for trinkets and treasures with a metal detector got too close. The birds glided on the breeze before resettling themselves further away. Later, when the sun came through the marine layer around lunch time, Amy knew that sunbathers, families, and more beachgoers would arrive.
Sarah rummaged through her dresser drawer, trying to find the one pair of jogging shorts she knew was in there somewhere. When her hand grasped a piece of slippery fabric, she pulled. Examining her find, she real
ized it was a negligee that Robin had given her. Sarah thought that she had gotten rid of everything from Robin, but apparently, she had missed a piece.
Her roommates, Fiona Peng and Susie Truong, would be alarmed by this forgotten piece of a past bad relationship. Both were big believers in feng shui and some of their belief had rubbed off on Sarah. Feng shui, Sarah had learned, was the art of object placement to support the flow of energy. Old, unwanted lingerie lurking in a dresser drawer meant that stagnant energy was present.
Thank goodness Fiona and Susie were at work this weekend, as they were most weekends, in the hospital where they worked as pharmacy interns, and not here to see this problem, small as it may be. Not that Sarah was in the habit of showing them her lingerie, but still.
Fiona, in particular, had emphasized to Sarah the importance of getting rid of any remnants of her time with her ex so as to not block opportunities for a new relationship with someone else. Sarah set the negligee aside to donate to the thrift store at her next opportunity. She wasn’t sure if this lingering evidence of her relationship with Robin had been having ill effects on her love life, but it couldn’t be helping.
She resumed digging in the drawer, emitting a triumphant cry when she finally found her jogging shorts. She held them up for inspection—and remembered why she rarely wore them: they were very short shorts. They were a pretty shade of blue, though, with turquoise piping, and there was a matching turquoise top. After getting dressed in them, she pulled on socks and her running shoes and went outside to get warmed up with some exercises. Justin was riding his bike over and would already be warmed up when he arrived.
