Page 10 of Second Chance in Charlevoix (Charlevoix Dreams #3)

Marlowe

A cool morning breeze brought a shiver as Marlowe waited for Brad.

Dawn was breaking and a sleepy hush cloaked downtown Charlevoix.

The beachy smell made Marlowe think of the shoreline a few blocks away.

Since her arrival she hadn’t had much time to visit the beach.

Besides, it was still a little chilly. As the weather warmed, the ice floes had slowly melted.

But the sand would still be cold underfoot.

Marlowe felt jittery this morning and she needed this run.

Seeing her sister Izzy go off with Skipper the day before had brought mixed emotions.

She understood Izzy's thinking about having a house safe for Holly. But would Izzy be welcome at Skipper’s?

Irene Malone had never been a woman to forgive and forget.

While her mind raced, Marlowe started her warmup stretches.

Her sister’s situation carried all kinds of complications.

If this living arrangement didn't work out, would that cause a problem at the bakery? Skipper’s pastries were the cornerstone of Izzy’s business, from what Marlowe could see.

It would be a shame if tension developed between the two and Skipper decided to leave.

If there was one thing Marlowe had learned in Naples, it was to not mix business with your personal life. Glancing at Skipper's face as she helped load the boxes into the back of his pickup, Marlowe thought she saw some mixed feelings. But maybe that was her imagination.

She was swinging her arms in circles when Brad pulled up in a Jeep. Since she’d met him while he was driving the bus for the residents of Tall Oaks, this new look was startling. Different and edgy.

He'd suggested meeting at the corner of Park Avenue and State. No one was around so she had no trouble parking her convertible, the top up of course. She'd suspected that Brad was fit. Today as he swung out of the Jeep in his running clothes, she realized that hadn’t done him justice. Brad was ripped, as Izzy would say. And energized. Did the man ever have a bad day? This morning he wore the same bright smile she’d seen at Tall Oaks when he made the rounds at bingo.

No wonder the residents were crazy about him.

“I thought we'd start with a downtown loop. Call this a scenic tour,” Brad said, joining her in some basic exercises.

“Sounds great.” She tried to look away as he did his own stretches.

But it wasn’t easy. And she began to wonder.

Did his statement about the “scenic tour” mean he wanted to judge her pace on familiar streets?

Marlowe was not to be outrun by a six foot two guy just because he looked as if he was born to run. Her competitive nature kicked in.

“Ready?” Brad asked after some hamstring stretches.

“Absolutely, whenever you are.”

“Do you ever use a running app?”

“Sure do and thanks for reminding me.” Taking her phone out of the pouch she wore around her waist, Marlowe clicked on her app. She wanted to keep this route so that later she could run it alone. Brad took off.

“We’ll head for a mushroom house,” he said after they'd settled into a comfortable pace for a couple of blocks.

Now that struck a chord. “The mushroom houses. My dad loved them. I think there's a book somewhere at Sunnycrest about the architect. Name was Young, right?”

She almost laughed at the surprised look on Brad's face. “Yes, Earl Young. He’s earned a lot of respect around here. I guess you read that book pretty carefully.”

“My dad was a teacher. Some things were required reading.”

“Not a bad thing.”

“No, not at all.” Her father had left her with a lot of good memories. He would have approved of the route Brad was taking past the mushroom house and that made her smile.

“Secret joke?” Brad asked.

My, the man was observant. “Not really. Just thinking about my dad.”

“I heard about your parents. So sorry.”

“Thank you. I guess everyone in town remembers that holiday accident, even though it was long ago.”

“This town never forgets.” He eased his pace. “Does that make being here difficult?”

“Actually I feel closer to them here. My folks loved Charlevoix. It was a special place for them. How about you? Is your family here?”

“Yep. My dad was a postman and Mom cooked at the high school. Sometimes she drops off brownies and cupcakes at Tall Oaks.”

“And they’re not retiring to Florida?” Since arriving, Marlowe had heard of several couples who’d gone that route. They were now snowbirds in Florida.

“No, my parents love it here. My sister Nicole is a big draw. She has two kids with her husband.”

“I know the feeling. We love being around Izzy and her baby. ”

“Yep. The kids keep my sister and my parents busy.”

The Howingtons sounded like a close family. Her heart warmed and then it stopped. Brad probably wanted a family himself. The thought dampened Marlowe’s spirits, which sank like wet sand. Had it turned cloudy? She glanced at the sky to make sure the sun was still shining. It was.

Marlowe brought her mind back to running and worked at pulling in some deep breaths. Why was her chest so tight? She was being foolish. Projecting. That’s what she was doing? Stop it. Stop it right now.

“Anything wrong?” Brad shot her a concerned glance. His face, arms and chest now held that sheen that makes male runners look super healthy. Healthy and, in his case, very attractive.

She dragged her eyes away. “Nope. All good.” Except that now I know I can’t marry you because you’ll want three kids and I don’t even know if I can have one.

Besides that I’ll be way too old for night feedings and running after children when I’m in my late forties.

When they’re in high school, I’ll be in my fifties.

I don’t think I can handle that. Working the concession stand during football games would be too exhausting.

What was wrong with her? Her stream of consciousness was more tiring than the jogging.

They were just running together and now she’d fallen behind.

Her fortieth birthday was coming up. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

Jogging along, she imagined all those eggs aging inside her.

Those eggs and her thoughts about those eggs weighed her down.

Marlowe could almost hear her sisters roaring with laughter if she shared her thoughts. Still, it was common knowledge that women were especially fertile in their twenties. After that? Their chances of becoming pregnant dropped off dramatically.

Concentrate on your run . Once they'd gone past one of the mushroom houses with its woven thatched roof, Brad led her down some of the other streets. Passing the Ultimate Wildlife Taxidermy gave her a chuckle and distracted Marlowe from her waning fertility. “Are you a hunter?”

“Nope. Not my thing. But a lot of people do hunt in northern Michigan,” he said with a grin. “I try to keep an open mind.”

“I’m with you on that.”

Brad veered up to Sherman Street. His pace was measured and she appreciated that.

For a while they ran side by side. Everything seemed so peaceful at this hour and she loved the empty streets.

The morning birds called to each other in the trees.

Soon the path Brad had taken wound up down near the Charlevoix beach.

The short stretch of sand was relatively small compared to the broad expanses of the ocean beaches in Naples.

But this beach had a different kind of charm. Smaller. More personal .

Obviously very familiar with this route, Brad took a lot of turns as they ran.

Marlowe was glad she was using her running app.

Still, she was in no hurry. After they came to the hospital and circled the parking lot, they headed back toward Garfield Avenue and neat frame houses with shutters and flower boxes.

A gray-haired man had come out for the newspaper in his blue robe.

When he waved, Brad waved back. “Morning, Mr. Nelson.”

“Morning, Brad.” Tucking the paper under one arm, Mr. Nelson turned to go back up his drive.

“His mother lived at Tall Oaks for quite a while,” Brad said.

“I suppose you know a lot of people here.”

“Many of the residents at Tall Oaks are people I knew when I was growing up.”

“That must be special for both of you.”

“Life has a way of coming full circle,” he said with a smile.

“Ah, a philosopher.”

He shrugged. “Nope. Not really.”

As she ran, Marlowe felt herself loosen up and eventually took the lead.

Her burst of energy helped erase her earlier preoccupation.

They finally reached Alice Street and she turned toward the harbor.

The tension of the past few days with her new job and Izzy’s move lost its hold on her.

Picking up her speed, Marlowe raced her heart out until they reached the harbor.

What a gorgeous day. A day when she could stop planning her future and just enjoy the moment. But her side was starting to hurt. Gasping, she slowed until she finally stopped and bent over, her heart pounding. Brad’s footsteps came up behind her. Pushing her damp bangs aside she straightened.

His own chest heaving, Brad grinned and pointed to the water fountain. “Thirsty?”

“Parched.” Walking over, she slurped, aware that she was getting water all over. It felt good. Brad did the same.

“Let’s grab a bench.” He motioned to the benches facing the water. At this hour they were the only people down there. A breeze had picked up and the concrete felt warm below her. Elbows along the back of the concrete bench, they took in the view of boats quietly bobbing in the water.

“That felt great,” she said after she’d caught her breath. “Short but good.”

“Next time we should take on one of the longer paths. Little Traverse Wheelway might work.”