Dream Runner (31 page)

“What the hell? Where is she?” She never passed him. He turned, looking back the way he had come, and she was nowhere near him. Instead, Marlea sat in the middle of her lane, waving a white napkin. Walking back toward her, breathing hard, hands on his hips, AJ was confused. “What in the hell?”

“I changed my mind,” she said, when he stopped in front of her.

“Changed your mind about what?” He looked down at her. “A napkin? What, you want more pancakes?”

“No.” She waved the napkin, swaying it from side to side. “This is my white flag.“

“A white flag is for surrender. What are you trying to surrender now?” His eyes narrowing, he looked at her suspiciously. “Is this some kind of game, Marlea? Are you trying to tell me that you’ve changed your mind about running? That you don’t want to run the 400 anymore? ’Cause if you are…”

Okay, now this is taking a bad turn.
“Could you help me up?” She offered her hand.

AJ shook his head and stepped back from her. “No. You got down there by yourself, you can get up by yourself.”

“Nasty attitude,” Marlea huffed, pushing to her feet, grateful that he hadn’t walked away—yet. “AJ, I wanted to talk to you about this. It’s, ‘just a symbol, a declaration of faith.’ Isn’t that what you called it when you came to my hospital room?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked at his watch and then into her face.

There’s still a chance
, Marlea thought.
He hasn’t walked away from me.
“Yes, you do, AJ. Remember when you came to see me in the hospital? You wanted to convince me that therapy was in my best interest?”

“And you weren’t having it.”

“I was wrong then, and I’m wrong now. I’m apologizing.” Marlea moved to match his step as he turned and walked away from her. Blocking his path, she looked up at him and hoped. “AJ, I was wrong. And I was mean about it.” Watching him watch her, Marlea was tempted to look down at her shirtfront, sure that he could see her heart jumping in her chest. “I should have known where to place my trust. I should have known that a woman who meant me no good from the first time we met couldn’t be trusted. I should have known to trust you to be who you are.” She lifted the napkin again. “I’m declaring my faith in you, AJ. Okay?”

“No, it’s not okay.” Reaching out, his hand brushing hers, he took the little white cloth. He looked at it for seconds that felt like hours. When it fell from his hand, he stared at it on the ground. “I’m not sure what I did to make it so easy for you not to trust me.”

“Mostly you were just who you are, and that was scary for me—new and scary. There’s never been a man like you in my life before. Gorgeous and smart, caring and available, and then she was there. Bianca. And I knew what you once shared with her, and I didn’t want her to have a part of you that meant so much to me, and…and I guess I didn’t see myself as whole enough to deserve you. It wasn’t about you; it was about me and the limits I couldn’t take myself past.” She took a deep breath and tried to still the quiver in her lips. “And I’m sorry.”

“Marlea, none of what we have is about Bianca, unless you look at her as the one who showed me what I don’t want in a woman.”

She refused to ask a question she already knew the answer to.

“Marlea, you and me, we’ve got trust between us. You and me, we have things to laugh about, we have things to talk about. We have things that anchor us to each other. I thought that was enough.”

“You said have, that we have each other.” Almost afraid to ask, she squinted up at him. “Is it still there for you, AJ? It is for me, and I couldn’t lose it if I had to.”

“Marlea…” Something tender and as rich as hot expresso rushed through his eyes, drenching her. “I told you; I feel anchored to you, like I’m never lost as long as we’re together. I don’t ever want you to lose faith in me or wonder if your trust is well-placed in me.”

“How about we both promise not to ever forget that?”

“You’re silly, you know that?” AJ smiled, and Marlea felt herself breathe.

“I may be silly.” She took a step toward him and tapped his chest with her finger. “But silly as I am, you like it.”

“Okay, you got me. Yeah, I like it.” AJ closed one hand over her finger and his other arm encircled her waist, pulling her close. “One last thing, though. What about this training?”

“I’m as committed to my training as I am to you.” She raised her right hand. “No more slacking off, no more half-stepping. I’m there; totally committed.”

Satisfied, AJ stood wider and pulled her closer, taking her weight and lifting her from the ground. “Good. Are we fixed, now?”

“We are, if you admit that you’re as silly as I am.”

“You mean ’cause I didn’t say anything about seeing Bianca in New York?” He pulled back to see himself reflected in Marlea’s eyes. “Yeah, that was pretty silly, now that I look back at it.”

“Then I guess that fixes us, except for one thing…”

“What?” AJ studied her eyes and found no answer. “I already admitted…”

“My name.” Her legs climbed his to lock around his hips. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Marlea…”

“No, not that one. You know.” Pressing her hips to his, Marlea drew her arms tighter around his neck, bringing AJ’s face closer. “Say my name,” she whispered nuzzling close, finding the sweet corner of his mouth. “Say my name.”

“Silk.” The soft breeze of a gentle Georgia fall day rustled the leaves on the trees, but Marlea heard him against her lips. “Silk,” AJ whispered, slipping a hand beneath her shirt. “Silk…”

Chapter 31

Atlanta

“Ten minutes, ladies.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Rissa promised, pushing Libby past the muscular woman in the red, white, and blue U.S. Track and Field Association jacket. “We’re going to run right in, deliver a message from her coach, and be out of here.”

“For real,” Libby agreed, slipping through the double doors of the locker room.

“Well, now that we’re in here, where is she?” Turning in a circle in the massive Phillips Arena locker room, Rissa tried to orient herself. All around her, more than a hundred women in various stages of dress and undress seemed to be in constant shouting motion.

A frustrated trainer carrying an armload of braces and wraps pushed past without saying anything. Rissa made a face at the woman’s back. “Apparently, the opportunity to perform for the USTAF is a big deal.”

Libby looked at Rissa as if she had just discovered that the woman was from the moon. “You bet your sweet butt it’s a big deal. These women are the best in the country. Some of em, like Marlea, are damned near the best in the world—even with their challenges. Did you know that the recent International Paralympic records are this close,” she pressed her fingers close together, “to the non-disabled records? It’s all about the training and the heart these athletes have. Why, they got more heart than…”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, do you see her?” Rissa shouted to Libby.

Looking helpless, the little black-haired woman stood on her toes and gave the room a quick once-over. She shrugged. “I don’t see anybody I know in here,” she yelled back.

‘“We’ve only got ten minutes, and we have to find her.” Jamming her hand into her leather tote bag, Rissa pulled out her cellphone. She scrolled for the number and hit ‘send’ when she found it. “I am not about to waste that little bit of time.”

Marlea answered on the second ring.

“Where the heck are you, girl? Me an’ Libby are just standing here turning in circles, looking for you.” Rissa listened, then pointed. “Uh-huh, yeah. We’re coming.” Grabbing Libby’s arm, she led her across the room. In red sports bra and panties, Marlea was standing on a bench, her head barely visible over the head and shoulders of a thin woman with twisted braids.

Jerking free of Rissa’s hold, Libby threw herself at Marlea just as she stepped down from the bench. “I’m so glad to see you, ooh, and I’m so proud of you that I could just burst.”

“Don’t burst. We’re all proud of her, Libby.” Eyes tightly shut, Rissa wrapped her arms around Marlea and Libby.

“And I appreciate it.” Marlea worked herself out of the tangle and reached for her navy-trimmed singlet.

“So many women here…we had no idea it would be so hard to find you.”

“And would you believe I actually ran into someone I know? Another runner, Kendra Asaou. She’s an amputee, too. I met her in New York.”

“Oh, Lord,” Rissa rolled her eyes. “Not New York…”

“Ignore her,” Libby gushed, “USTAF Invitational
,
who’d have thought it?” She shoved Marlea’s bag to the floor and plopped down on the bench. “It’s a Paralympic preliminary and you’re here—by invitation, girl.”

Marlea pulled her shorts from her bag and stepped into them.

“You don’t have to say anything, but you’re not fooling me, I know how proud you have to be. This is the closest you’ve ever come to keeping that promise you made to your mother.” Libby sighed and hugged herself. “You’re headed for gold today, and I just know she’s with you. But Marlea, she can’t be any prouder of you than I am,
’
cause girl, I knew you back when.”

Marlea passed her hand over her face and had to look quickly to the ceiling. “You’re going to keep on until you make me cry, Libby.”

“Oh, hell no.” Rissa used her hip to urge Libby to move over on the bench. “There will be no crying up in here today. You and my brother have had to work too hard to come this far, and I don’t want him blaming me for making you cry and miss out on your shining moment. You are bringing gold up out of here today, one way or another.”

“Amen to that,” Libby crowed, nudging Rissa.

The meeting of their eyes and the brightly smug expression they shared was brief, but Marlea caught it. “Why are you testifying? Like you know something?”

“Know something?” Libby puffed, ignoring the look Rissa sent her way. “Something, like what?”

“Like you’re keeping a secret from me, is what.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You said that too fast.” Marlea pressed her back to the gray metal locker and carefully raised her leg. Pointing her toe, she slipped on her sock, watching Libby all the while. “So what’s the secret?”

“I don’t know any secret. Nobody in here has a secret. Right, Rissa?”

“Not that I know of. Oh, Dench is here.” Obviously the wrong person to ask, Rissa dropped her eyes and fidgeted with her tote. “He wanted me to tell you that he’s proud of you, too.”

“That’s really nice.” Marlea pulled at her other sock and watched.

Trying to look innocent, Rissa let her eyes move around her. At her side, a long jumper checked her prosthesis, then carefully fastened it into place under the watchful eye of another woman, presumably her trainer. “This whole thing is pretty prestigious, isn’t it?” she finally said, looking back at Marlea.

Libby slipped her hands beneath her hips and looked at the floor. “Connie and Jeanette are in the stands with Hal. You know how hard it is to get my husband to come out to these things, but he said he wouldn’t have missed you in this for anything in the world.”

Now, they’re both babbling…Something is really up. Rissa couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it.
Marlea eyed her.

Feeling the pressure, Rissa’s eyes jittered, then fell to the floor. Then, to her horror, her mouth opened and words fell out. She couldn’t look at Marlea, but she couldn’t stop talking, either. “Not to make you nervous, or put you on the spot or anything, but the parents’ group from the Runyon School bought a block of tickets, and just about every kid in the school is out there ready to cheer for you.”

That’s the big news?
A little disappointed, and certain that Rissa was somehow managing to hold back, Marlea crossed her arms and waited. It didn’t work, but Rissa babbled on.

“You know, as a role model, you really are standing strong for those kids. You’ve made an indelible mark on all their lives, you know? They think woman and they speak of you. They think triumph and they think of you. They think indomitable and they think of you…”

Marlea gave up. “No pressure there, right? I’m glad the kids are here, but did AJ send you guys in here to cheer me up or scare me to death?”

“Mostly he wanted us to remind you of how proud he is of you.”

“And how much he loves you,” Libby chimed in.

“Oh, and balance,” Rissa recalled. “He said to remember to stay centered in your lane and to stay balanced.”

“You know, you two are carrying messages like your names are Western and Union.”
And I still don’t know what secrets you’re keeping.

“Time! Please clear the locker room. Competitors only in the locker room.”

Jumping to her feet, grateful for the announcement, Rissa snagged Libby’s arm, towing her along. “We gotta go.”

“Well, go on and take your little secret with you.” Marlea gave it a final shot and got nothing for her effort.

“Whatever.” Rissa and Libby backed toward the end of the aisle, heading for the door. “Just know that we love you, and we want you to run faster than ever before.”

“See you at the finish line,” Libby yelled as she disappeared from sight.

“Yeah, see you.” Marlea waved at the spot where her friends had stood, then bent to pull her shoe from her bag and wondered—but she didn’t have a clue.
Guess I had better hurry up and cross that finish line if I’m ever going to know what they’re hiding.

* * *

“Dude, you got us sitting right on the track, almost.” Dench looked around the arena, approving the seats. “Big as Phillips Arena is, we’re close enough to feel the breeze when they go by. We’re going to have a real nice view of Marlea when she stands up on that podium to accept her gold medal…just as soon as she wins.”

“That was the plan,” AJ grinned, pulling off his jacket.

“You know he wanted to see his best girl when she wins, and so did we,” Connie giggled from the row behind them. She squeezed AJ’s shoulder and then unfurled a large hand-lettered banner and held it just high enough for him to read it. “See? Jeanette and I plan to be moral support. Besides, we heard about what you’ve got in your pocket.”

“Connie!” Jeanette nudged her and Connie shook it off.

“We’ve come this far with you two, and we deserve to know how it ends. And you know we want to see her face.” She giggled harder when Jeanette pinched her arm.

“Since she brought it up, what about the
rest
of the plan?” Dench asked, watching Connie and Jeanette roll and secure their banner. “You ready for that?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. Don’t worry, man. I got this.” AJ was grateful for the interruption caused by the man in the blue jacket. Trying to reach his seat on AJ’s left, the man had to wait at the end of the row for Dench and AJ to stand.

“AJ? Well, how about that?” the man laughed, offering his hand. “Small world.” Adrian Kessler seemed delighted with the turn of his luck. “I got assigned to cover this women’s invitational event today. I got here at the last minute, looked at my ticket, and they had me sitting way up there with the families of a couple of the athletes. Then I got a call from
Atlanta Sports and Fitness
asking me to try to get some pictures. Their chief photographer is tied up in traffic on I-285 or something.”

“Good thing I had my camera and access. So I jumped up and ran down here, and lo and behold, I get to sit next to you and get your take on the races.” Kessler dropped into his seat and pulled a small tape recorder from an inside pocket, all in the same motion. “Did you see the earlier races? What did you think?” Watching the former footballer’s face, the swarthy reporter grinned suddenly, flashing white teeth. “Better still, got any predictions on the 400-meter run?”

“Dude, you already know he’s got Kellogg to win in record time,” Dench shouted at the reporter, leaning across AJ.

“Marlea’s gonna dust her,” AJ agreed.

“I’ve got to disagree with you on that one. I admit she’s a beautiful woman and a talented athlete, but…” AJ’s calm ruffled the reporter.

“You asked. I’m just sayin’,” AJ drawled.

“Your girl’s got all that speed, but she’s running against that hot kid from the University of South Carolina.” Kessler’s fingers dipped into a pocket to pull out a small pad and a pen. “They’re both foot amputees and fast as greased lightning, even though Kellogg’s almost twice Connor’s age.”

“Not gonna be a problem.”

“You sound pretty certain.” Kessler scribbled on his pad. “Can I quote you on that? It’ll save me the effort of tracking you down later.”

“Yeah, you can quote me,” AJ nodded, stretching his long legs.

Kessler’s pen tapped the pad. “Are you sure about that? There are five other runners in the 400 and four of them are good, but not great. That really leaves only one to beat, and Kellogg’s what, almost thirty-three? She’s got to outrun Elise Connor, and Connor’s only nineteen.” Kessler looked down the field, focusing on the athletes and their warm-ups. “The math is not on Kellogg’s side.”

“You didn’t write it down when I told you.” Smiling, AJ’s thumb stroked his cheek. “Marlea is a smart, seasoned runner with a hell of a lot of heart, and she’s gonna give that kid a lesson in how to run the 400. A fast lesson.” He tapped the reporter’s notepad. “Did you get that?”

“She can’t run forever.”

“But she can run today.”

Sly as a jackal, Adrian smiled, electric light from the track painting his sculpted features. “Would you put money on it?”

AJ reached for his wallet. “How much you willing to lose?”

“Whoa, man.” Kessler raised a hand and shook his head, eyes on the bills AJ was fingering. “I’m not a big baller like you; I ain’t got it like that.”

Dench looked confused. “You’re working on this story; should you be making
any
kind of bet?”

“There’s no conflict of interest here. She’s not
my
runner,” Kessler said. “I just think that nineteen goes a whole lot faster than thirty-three—toes not withstanding.” He turned back to face AJ. “Let’s make this a working man’s bet.”

“If you’re not sure, then you had better make it something you can afford.” AJ’s lazy smile was confident.

Concentrating and already figuring the odds, Kessler looked down at the field, then back at AJ. “Let’s make it five hundred on the race, and a fifty a second, over five.”

“Done.” AJ gripped the reporter’s hand firmly, sealing the wager. Settling back in his seat, he turned back to Kessler and said, “You do know I don’t plan to take a check, right?”

Dench raised his binoculars and scanned the field of female athletes on the track. He kept his prediction to himself, but he honestly thought the reporter looked worried.