Pepped Up & Wilder (Pepper Jones Book 6)

by Ali Dean

  “Thanks Finn, that means a lot.”

  We spend a few more minutes speaking about how and when we’ll break the news to my sponsors, and Finn mentions several elite women he can put me in touch with who had babies mid-running career. I’m so early in my own career, none of my peers have been pregnant. Few are even married. The runners on Newbound are older but none of them have kids or seem to be planning on it anytime soon. It would be great to speak with other elite runners about how they handled training, sponsors and all that stuff.

  As I end my call with Finn, Jace returns from his conversation with Frankie. He walks toward me with the same confidence and authority that always radiates from him, but it’s stronger, more resolute. Is it possible just the news of our growing family can give a guy like Jace Wilder a new sense of purpose? It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours and the shift inside of us is unmistakable.

  Dave senses it too, darting back and forth between us. We kiss Gran goodbye and take Dave on a walk, hand in hand on our favorite trail. So many memories are with us on the path that winds up the foothills.

  We walk in easy silence and I try to think about whether my body feels any different. I listen to my breathing, and pay attention to my legs and stomach. Everything seems to be the same as always, except for the knowledge there’s a little person inside me. I know my stomach was a little off the other night at the Snyders’ place, but aside from the strange reaction after the race on Sunday, it’s no wonder I didn’t realize what was happening. I feel fit, strong, healthy.

  When we reach one of the clearings with a view overlooking the city, Jace leads me to a boulder and hoists me to sit atop it, jumping up behind me. I rest back into him and sigh. There’s a lot to figure out, now more than ever, but somehow, I’m more at peace today than I was before learning the news. It feels like it’ll all fall into place and work itself out.

  “You seem good, Pep. I thought this morning it might sink in what this means for the trials. The Olympics. But you aren’t upset.”

  I lean back to look at him so he can see that his assessment is right. “I know. If you told me before that this was going to happen I would have been a wreck. But now that it actually has, everything else is less important. I’m too happy to be sad about what I’m giving up.” I shake my head at the words. “No, that’s the thing. It doesn’t feel like I’m giving up anything really. Isn’t that crazy?”

  Jace’s hand runs down my arm, landing on my belly. He splays his palm protectively over me. “Nope. I’m with you, Pep. If it was you and Baby Wilder or football, it wouldn’t even be a question. There’d be no regret. The only question for me now is what I’ll do if I don’t trade to the Stallions.”

  I place my hand over his. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Jace’s voice is determined when he tells me, “We’re not going to New York. I already didn’t feel right about working that angle as a potential option and now I know it’s not right for us. I thought I could do a year or two there before trading again but we need to be closer to home.”

  “What are the other options if not New York or Colorado?”

  Jace rattles off a few other places that have shown interest, explaining the various chances of becoming first-string QB on those teams. “I think wherever I land next season, you should stay here in Brockton.”

  I sit up all the way at that declaration. “What? No. I need to be with you, Jace. Not here.”

  Jace looks at me hard, jaw set. “I’ll be gone too much for games. You won’t know anyone. What if something happens? Pep, you need your family. Buns, Wallace, Lulu, Zoe, Wes, Lexi,” he starts to list everyone off but I get the point and cut him off.

  “You, Jace. I need you.”

  Jace swallows hard and I see a storm behind those bright green eyes. This uncertainty, this lack of control for his future, our future, it’s tearing him up. Now more than ever. Maybe only the mom gets filled with a sense of peace and ease when expecting a baby. I was just as uptight about all of it as he was, and now I feel settled, like it’s going to fall into place. Here, or somewhere else, we’ll be a family unit. Jace will come around. We should know in the next month where we’ll be, and that will calm Jace. I hope.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jace

  I was helping Pep off the boulder for the walk home when my phone rang. Seeing it was Drake again, I let out a curse. I should’ve left the phone at home, let us have at least this one moment uninterrupted.

  “Just answer it, Jace,” Pepper said with a sigh. “See what he wants so he’ll stop calling.”

  Right. Like this asshole would ever stop calling. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. He saw me as his next big paycheck. Scratch that. I already was his biggest paycheck of all his clients. But he thought he could use me to make a real name for himself. If I wasn’t over it before, I was now.

  I put the phone to my ear. “What?”

  “Hello to you too, sunshine,” Drake mocked. He thought he was funny, that we were bros. That alone told me the guy wasn’t so smart.

  I didn’t respond, and after a beat of silence, Drake told me why he called. Another publicity opportunity in New York.

  “I told you, Drake. I’m done with parading around New York. I’m not traveling there again. Especially after the shit you pulled with Madeline Brescoll and the New York Times photographer.”

  Drake ignored that comment. “What are you planning to do if the Stallions deal falls through, Jace? I haven’t followed up with any of the other teams because you wanted to limit your travel.”

  Bullshit. I’ve figured enough out now to understand that trading to a different team didn’t require the level of travel he’d been pushing to New York. He wanted the bigger payout if I landed with the Super Bowl reigning champs. The prestige it would give him.

  “You know what, Drake? I think I got it from here. I’ll handle the trade negotiations until our contract is up.”

  Drake sputtered through the line. “Excuse me?” His voice was shrill, like a whiny kid.

  “You heard me. I’ll handle it from here. Have your assistant send me all the docs.”

  “Jace, we have a contract.”

  “A contract that ends in three weeks.”

  “Yes, and those are a crucial three weeks. If we don’t complete the deal, what are you going to do, get a new agent mid-negotiations? It doesn’t work that way. What’s really going on here?”

  Like hell I was going to share the news with this prick. He’d twist it and taint it. I knew what he was about.

  “I said I’ll do it alone. I know the contract doesn’t allow me to take on a new agent until our term is over.” I’d spoken with a lawyer about it a few weeks ago, just wanting to consider all my options. Until this moment, I’d thought I could deal with Drake for a few more weeks. Now I was going with my gut instinct. Which told me Drake would sabotage me if I didn’t take the reins. Possibly even manipulate the situation to force a trade to New York.

  Drake rambled something about a breach of contract, his own team of lawyers, and that I should reconsider, all in the same breath. Threatening me while also trying to get me to trust him with my career, my life? I didn’t think so.

  When I ended the call, I felt a hell of a lot lighter.

  “You just fired Drake,” Pepper said, confusion clouding the statement. “I thought you couldn’t do that.”

  “Officially he’s not fired. I’ll still have to give him a cut of whatever deal I make with the next trade. Happy to do it to avoid a legal dispute. But I’m not letting him be involved anymore. I don’t trust him. And I’m not letting him parade me around and push me to New York so he can rise the ranks.”

  “You ran all this by the lawyer you spoke with last month?”

  I could tell Pepper wanted to be happy for me but was worried I’d acted on a whim, made a rash decision I’d regret.

  I pulled her to me and walked her backward until she was leaning against a tree. “Ran it by the lawyer, Pep. I was going t
o ride it out and let Drake do his thing until the contract was up, but this was another option I had that I decided to take. I can cut him out of the discussions with the Stallions. I’m not going to keep discussions going with New York anyway. Frankie’s already got his agent ready to go for me as soon as the contract with Drake is done.”

  I watched this sink in, and if possible, Pepper looked even more relaxed that she’d been before. “I knew it would all fall into place.”

  My lips met hers as some of her optimism seeped into me. The gentle kiss turned heated when she opened her mouth and let my tongue inside.

  I knew that Drake would make this hell, but I’d keep the shitstorm from Pepper. I needed to put everything I had into making a deal with the Stallions, even if it meant less money, less prestige, less sponsorships, whatever. I didn’t care about that, never really did. But Drake did, and he was not going to let it go easy.

  As long as Pepper stayed in this easy mindset, where nothing could touch her, I didn’t really give a shit about the rest.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Pepper

  We arrange a phone call with Dr. Burch, who reassures us that everything is normal with the baby and the blood tests all came back looking good too. She thinks that the physical exertion at the race, coupled with the heat and humidity, drained me more than normal because of the pregnancy. While she doesn’t recommend repeating those conditions or pushing my body so hard again during pregnancy, she doesn’t think there was any lasting damage.

  “So, what do you recommend with running and training during pregnancy?” I ask.

  “Lots of women exercise through pregnancy. Some even run marathons. I really think it’s a matter of listening to your body. Just because you’re a professional athlete doesn’t mean your body will handle exercise well during pregnancy.”

  This advice really isn’t all that helpful. Sure, she’s given me a green light to keep running and training, and when it comes to running I like to think I’ve really fine-tuned the body-listening thing. But based on what happened on Sunday, I’m not so sure it translates in this context.

  I point out my dilemma to her. “But I felt amazing in that race right through the finish. And then I fainted and suffered dehydration.”

  We have her on speakerphone and Jace sits beside me on the couch, rubbing circles on my back and trying not to interrupt.

  Dr. Burch mulls this over and then says, “In your case then, where you’re so used to pushing through pain that it feels normal, I would err on the side of less training. Stick with mild exercise.”

  I want to explain that this really isn’t helpful either. At all. Mild exercise? What the hell does that mean to a professional athlete? I’m going to need to reach out to those mom runners Finn mentioned ASAP and get some real advice.

  I refrain from sharing my frustration with Dr. Burch and she signs off, letting us know we’ll see her next at our twelve-week appointment. It seems like we should be seeing her sooner than that, but I guess this is standard. I should be grateful everything’s normal and I don’t need to come in earlier.

  The lack of direction about how to handle training, my job, while pregnant is a little disconcerting, but I’m really not all that worried about it. While Finn emailed me some women I can reach, I’m not quite ready to share the news with everyone in the running community. I still haven’t told Ray. Instead, I spend hours researching the elite runners and their various approaches to training while pregnant. There’s more information than I expect, and I discover that Finn was right, there’s a lot of interest in this area. But while there’s a lot of information to take in, it doesn’t necessarily give me answers. Some pro distance runners trained up to a hundred miles a week all the way until the third trimester, while others didn’t run at all and only cross-trained. I guess Dr. Burch was right about it being different for everyone.

  By Friday, I can’t ignore Ray any longer, and I take a deep breath before calling him.

  When he answers, I’m surprised at how frantic he sounds. “Pepper. I haven’t been able to reach you all week. What’s going on?”

  “Sorry. It’s just been, um, crazy.”

  Ray coaches fourteen other elite runners, mostly women and a couple men, but all with similar chances as me at making the next Olympic team. It’s not unusual for us to go several days or even a week or two without connecting by phone. I suppose with how things were left, what with me ending up in the medical tent, I shouldn’t have left him hanging for so long.

  “What did the doctor have to say?”

  “Well, it wasn’t an iron deficiency.”

  There’s a silence as he waits for me to fill him in, and I’m more nervous to share the news with him than I have been for anyone else. I just don’t know how he’ll react.

  “I’m seven weeks pregnant. Almost eight now, actually.”

  Of all the reactions I expected, his response is not one I could have imagined. “You aren’t keeping it, are you?”

  My stomach churns at the question and I experience my first wave of true nausea since becoming pregnant. “Excuse me?” Maybe I misunderstood.

  “You’re on fire in your running career. You’ve qualified for the trials and have ten months to prepare for it without worrying about any other races now that you’ve got the qualifying time. You’re still so young, Pepper. You can’t give up your chance at the Olympics. Not now.”

  I shake my head at everything he’s saying, my eyes burning. “I’m having the baby, Ray. There will be other Olympics. Other races.” My hand hurts from gripping the phone so tightly, and I wish it was Ray’s neck. I’ve never been a violent person but I have the urge to punch something right now, and if Ray was here in front of me, I’d like it to be his face.

  Ray switches tactics when he hears the emotion behind my response. He starts to talk about all the training options out there, zero gravity treadmills, water running, and gives examples of those few pros who did run high mileage throughout their pregnancies. But I don’t want to have any goals or expectations for my fitness during this time. I don’t want a race on the calendar right after the due date. I don’t want to be tempted to do more than I can handle or rush through breast feeding so I can race a marathon faster.

  While Ray gains momentum about how I could set some record for bouncing back post-baby with a debut marathon win, I come to a decision that’s easier than I think.

  I quit the Newbound team. The most prestigious marathon training group in the country, maybe the world, and I have zero regrets about saying goodbye. I know how Jace felt when he dropped Drake. There used to be indecisiveness and uncertainty about these big decisions but the clarity now is startling. It’s obvious that I don’t belong with Ray or his group of Newbound runners. While I sensed that truth earlier, my judgment was clouded somehow. I don’t care if people say I’m nuts to leave him to train with my old college teammates, whose accolades are one-tenth that of the least accomplished Newbound runner. It’s right for me.

  I’m sitting on the bed staring into space when Jace comes in a few minutes later.

  “Pep? How’d the call go with Ray?” Jace has been hovering all week, and I’ve let him. I’ll need to kick him out and tell him he can go to the gym at some point, but I’ve been enjoying our cocoon.

  I thought I was sitting here reveling in my decision, feeling good, but I’m hit with an onslaught of anger as I try to tell him what Ray said. My lip trembles, and as I say the words, I find myself dissolving into full body-wracking sobs. Jace holds me and hushes me as he tries to figure out what I’m telling him.

  Gran was right about the emotional rollercoaster. This is one hell of a confusing ride.

  “Pep, you haven’t run since Sunday. That’s five days. Maybe you’ll feel better if you go on a little jog.” Jace speaks quietly as he runs a hand over my head like I’m a little kid in need of soothing. I kind of feel like one right now.

  “You think I should run?”

  “Dr. Burch says it’s fine. You
don’t need to run for hours or do hill sprints or anything.”

  “I’m just confused. I don’t remember how to just run based on feel. I had a plan and now it’s gone. I’m not sad about that but I’m not sure what to do now. And I don’t have a coach anymore to tell me what to do.”

  “Why don’t you do some shorter easier runs for a little while and when you’re ready you can talk to some of the runners Finn told you about and think about how to approach it? Running is such a part of you I can’t imagine you won’t want to keep doing it, but you don’t have to stick to any sort of plan.”

  I sigh into Jace’s chest. “You should just be my coach,” I say, mostly joking. He knows enough about running by now that he could probably wing it and do okay, but really only when it comes to the mental aspects of the sport.

  I’m grateful he’s encouraging me to run. I wasn’t sure how he felt about it, if he would want me to stop. With Jace unable to control anything else about the pregnancy, I was willing to concede on some points for the sake of his sanity, but I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if he asked me to stop running. I’m still not sure how I feel about it myself as I change into my running clothes and lace up my sneakers.

  “Want me to come with?” Jace asks.

  He occasionally joins me when I have a short easy run, but he doesn’t like to go longer than four miles and I almost never run shorter than that these days. It will be different now, but I need a moment to clear my head. It’s my first run knowing that I’m pregnant. Somehow, it feels like a big step.