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M egan spread her cards onto the table. “Fifteen for two, four separate ways. That’s eight. Plus two runs for three each. That’s fourteen. The Knobs gives me fifteen total.”

Mr. Steinman dropped his cards onto the table. “Fifteen, and the game.”

Megan smiled. “Gotcha!” She moved her peg to the end of the cribbage board. “That’s my first victory against you.”

“Even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and again.”

“Don’t! I played great! Everything you taught me, I did during that game. No leading with face cards, no pairs into the crib, all that stuff.”

“I’d lose every game if it made you smile like that.”

Megan blushed and shielded her teeth with her hand.

“How’s the book doing?”

Megan shrugged, pulled her hand down. The smile was gone. “Climbing.”

“You’re a regular celebrity. ”

“Yeah, to people who love sick stories.”

Mr. Steinman collected the cards. “I know you well enough now. There’s a reason for that book. Something you won’t admit.”

“I’ll admit it. The book gets my parents off my back.”

“And allows you to do what?”

“Breathe.” Megan pulled the pegs from the cribbage board and stored them. “And maybe find some answers for myself.”

“I thought you were doing that in therapy.”

“I am. I just need, I don’t know, different answers than the ones everyone around me wants to give.”

Mr. Steinman took the cribbage board and placed it with the cards on the end table. “I can’t tell you what to do. A young, independent girl like yourself is not going to listen to an old man like me. Just remember, sometimes finding those answers comes with a new set of questions.”

Megan nodded as though she understood perfectly.

There was a noise that came from another room. It sounded as though it came from the walls, perhaps the groan of a faucet being started. But there was something else that caused Megan to stiffen. If asked, she’d describe it as a moan but the whine of the faucet was enough to hide the exact origin.

Mr. Steinman, too, sat up straight when he heard it. “That’s it for me, my lovely lady. Will I see you next week?”

Megan stood, feeling as though she’d overstayed her welcome. “Of course. Have a good night,” she said.

Mr. Steinman hurried her to the door, his key chain chiming as it hung from his belt loop. “Good game,” he said quickly. “I’ve never felt better after losing at cribbage.”

“Need help?” Megan asked. “With, you know, whatever it is. Or company?”

“Not tonight.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping. I’m not scared.”

“One of these days,” he said, grabbing the keys from his hip, “I’ll take you up on your offer.” He pulled the screen door closed as Megan walked onto the patio. “Good night.”

Megan smiled with her lips together, nodded, and headed for her car.

* * *

Livia danced around the ring, thick headgear covering her jawline.

Randy, six inches taller and twice as broad, stalked her carefully as they sparred.

He’d been on the receiving end of a Livia Cutty side kick, an unpleasant place to be, and she’d kept him at bay with stiff left jabs.

Everything considered, her technique was flawless and Randy was impressed.

He tried again to close the distance and get his hands on her, but the jabs were too straight.

Then he saw it, the transfer of weight to her left leg.

A side kick was on its way. The telegraph was her first mistake in nine minutes of sparring.

When the kick came, he caught it in his left armpit, absorbing the impact and trapping her shin.

In a flash, he knocked her left leg from underneath her and they both crashed to the ground.

It was where Randy wanted the sparring session to be all along .

“Time!” the referee yelled just as they both crashed to the floor.

“Dammit!” Livia said.

Randy rolled off her. “Two-ninety vs. one-thirty. Physics are not on your side, Doc.”

Livia sat up on the mat and leaned against the ropes, unsnapped her headgear. Her chest expanding with giant breaths.

“On a larger opponent, stick with those jabs. I couldn’t get close until you announced that side kick. When they land, they’re lethal. But I told you, they get stale after a while.”

“Stupid,” Livia said.

“Nothing wrong with being aggressive. Just don’t go to the well so often.”

Randy pushed himself up, offered his hand to Livia, and pulled her to her feet. They exited the ring as the next pair jumped in and started their session. Livia took a seat and pulled her gloves off. Randy handed her a water bottle.

“You seem like you’re doing better than when you had your tantrum.”

Livia smiled. “Can’t get rid of regret by punching a bag. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Something like that.” Randy sat next to her. “All this frustration have to do with your sister?”

Livia shrugged. Randy listened more carefully than she thought.

“I sat around for a year doing nothing,” Livia said. “At least now I feel like I’m doing something .”

“Feels good to take some action, right?”

Livia nodded and took a sip of water. “I just don’t know how hard to push. ”

“Because you’re afraid of what you’re gonna find?”

“Because I’m afraid I won’t be able to do anything when I find it.”

“Well,” Randy said, wiping his face. “You go at it like that and you ain’t gonna find shit. I’ll tell you that much.”

“Go at it like what?”

“With no heart. You want something, you gotta commit to it and go after it. Don’t slow down, don’t stop to think. Just keep moving forward.”

Livia stood up. “And stop throwing my side kicks so often.”

“That too.”

Livia screwed the top onto her water bottle. “I’ve got to run, Randy. Thanks for the spar.”

“Sorry I tossed you like a rag doll.”

“Sorry I flattened your nose with those jabs.”

Randy lifted his chin. “Hope you find what you’re looking for, Doc. With your sister.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, when I was trying to get straight my daddy used to tell me a story about how life works in the Serengeti. Do you know?”

“The African Serengeti?”

“That’s the one. You know how life works there?”

Livia shook her head.

“Each morning when the sun comes up, cresting the horizon and stretching shadows across the sand, every gazelle and every lion opens their eyes. They all understand something. Every gazelle wakes knowing that to survive the day they gotta run faster than the slowest gazelle in the herd. And every lion wakes knowing that to survive the day they gotta run faster than the fastest lion in the pack. That’s life, young lady. ”

Livia stared at him. “So the fastest lion gets the slowest gazelle? That’s the point?”

“No.” Randy stood and headed for the showers. “The point is that no matter who you are, you gotta wake up runnin’.”