“Aileen said to meet her here for practice,” she said. “She goes to my church? She says you need runners?”
“Does your mom know you’re here?”
“My dad dropped me off.” Megan glanced down at her new shoes. “He got me these.”
“I don’t want to get in the middle of something.”
Just then the other girls showed up, entering the gym together, not one at a time like they had the week before. When Aileen saw Megan, she sprinted ahead, waving. “You came!”
Megan looked to Dean, expectantly.
“Promise me you’ll tell your mother?”
“As soon as I get home!” Megan said. “Thank you, Uncle Dean!”
Dean had planned a fartlek workout, a training method he’d gotten from one of his old xeroxed articles. It was a long, untimed run, during which the girls would take turns setting the pace — fast or slow depending on how they felt. It was a team-building workout, and so it was slightly awkward to have his niece randomly in the mix, especially since she didn’t know her way around the high school campus. When it was her turn to lead, she made unpredictable turns, forcing the other girls to stay close to her. Her foot strikes were fast and even with her new shoes flashing white, teal, white, teal, back and forth, back and forth. It took Dean a moment to think of who she reminded him of: Adrienne Fellows, the championship runner. They had the same small, efficient build.
When the workout was over, the other girls asked Megan the question that Dean wanted to know: Could she come to the race on Saturday?
THAT NIGHT JOELLE called Dean. He assumed it was to chew him out for letting Megan attend practice, but instead she wanted to know if she could take the boys to church on Sunday morning. Since she was planning to babysit them anyway, they could stay overnight. It would be easier, she argued.
“Okay,” Dean said. If he gave a little on this, maybe she would give a little on Megan.
“Really? Oh, Dean, I’m so happy. I think they’ll like it. We have this new minister. He’s very young, very inspiring. You know, I think you might even like it, too.”
“I don’t know about that,” Dean said. Give Joelle an inch. .
“How’s Stephanie?”
“I haven’t heard from her since she visited.”
“Oh. Well, maybe that’s good. She’s probably busy at school. It’s good she’s getting on with her life.”
Joelle had said pretty much the opposite thing before Stephanie left, but Dean chose not to mention it. Instead he told her that Megan had shown up for practice. And that she was gifted. And that she wanted to run on Saturday.
“She told me she was with Aileen this afternoon,” Joelle said.
“Aileen’s on the team,” Dean said. There was no point in mentioning that Ed had dropped her off. She would figure that out on her own.
“I can’t believe she would lie to me.”
“Kids lie. They just do. But as far as lies go—”
“This one is not going any further! She can’t run, I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to understand, but I’ve seen what happens with other families. One of the kids gets really into a sport and then all of a sudden they aren’t showing up at church on Sundays and they’re missing prayer groups during the week, and that isn’t what I want for my family.”
“But this is just running,” Dean said. “And she’s doing it anyway. The meets are on Saturdays—”
“Dean, stay out of this. All right?” Her voice was sharp.
“All right.”
He got off the phone. He had the urge to call Stephanie to complain. She was the only person in his life who would understand. But he’d been trying her room every day, and he always got the meek roommate. It was getting embarrassing.
The next day, one of his students reminded him of Stephanie. He noticed her during the timed mile run, which he was required to administer every year, for the President’s Fitness Challenge. He liked to do it early in the semester because it helped him to learn names. The girl had Stephanie’s long legs and broad shoulders, but it was her attitude more than her physique that reminded him of his daughter. The way she held her large head high, her chin jutting forward, ever so slightly, in subtle defiance. She didn’t like the fitness test and when he called out to her that if she kept her fast pace, she would be in the 99th percentile, she gave him a look like What do I care? But she didn’t slow down. In fact, she went faster. That was like Stephanie, too.
A group of boys who had finished their mile began to cheer for her. “Go, Missy!” She scowled, and all at once Dean remembered meeting her at Sheetz, before school started, when he was still the football coach. Smoot’s sister. Of course she was fast!
“Did I make your ninety-ninth percentile?” she asked Dean, a few seconds after sprinting over the line.
“Easily,” he said. “You should go out for cross-country.”
“Yeah, right.” She raked her hair into a fresh ponytail.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Come to the small gym after school. I’m meeting with the team. It’s not a practice; we’re just going over some stuff for tomorrow’s race. You can meet the other girls and see what you think.”
Missy regarded him through smudged eyeliner. He felt certain she was going to turn him down.
“All right,” she said. “I have to wait for my brother anyway.”
“Great, we’ll see you then.” He felt like a salesman for how hard he had to work to hide his excitement.
That afternoon, Dean told the girls about Missy, and when she didn’t show up, his disappointment hit hard and he felt foolish for saying anything. The girls seemed let down, too. They had dressed up for their meet the next day and looked older in their skirts and dress pants, their loafers and modest heels. Their proximity to adulthood stilled him. He could imagine them with jobs, marriages, children. He got the same feeling, sometimes, when the football players gathered on game days, clean-cut in suits and ties. And with this feeling, he always noticed, came a strong sense of responsibility.
SATURDAY’S MEET WAS in Left Creek, West Virginia. Dean had to wake up early to meet the girls. The boys were late getting up and had a breakfast of graham crackers in the car. Outside the fog was heavy, floating above the pastures and soybean fields along Iron Bridge Road. The cows were like ghosts, visible if you looked for them.
When they arrived at the school, the parking lot was empty. A girl was sitting on the curb and she stood up to greet them, waving. It was See-See; Dean recognized her bleached hair first, and then her muscular, ever-so-slightly bowed legs. She was wearing a faded blue baseball cap that did not quite match the blue of her uniform.
“You took all your earrings out,” Bryan observed. He knew the girls well now, from going to practices.
“You can’t race in them.” She tugged on her naked earlobe. “Hey, Robbie. Long time no see! How’s the play?”
“How’d you know I’m in the play?”
“I’m friends with the Cowardly Lion.”
“You know Seth?” Robbie seemed to wake up for the first time that morning. “He’s really funny.”
See-See smiled. “He likes to think so, at least.”
The bus appeared, emerging from the fog like some big yellow dinosaur. Two other cars were hidden behind it, and they pulled up to the school to deliver members of the boys’ team. A third car joined the line and then drove around the bus to pull right up to the curb, where Dean stood. It was Bill Smoot, Jimmy and Melissa’s father. He leaned out the window.
“Coach! I had no idea you’ve been trying to recruit my girl. I told her, if Dean Renner wants you on his team, you say yes! Go on, Missy.” He nudged his sleepy daughter, who sat in the front seat with a gray duffel bag on her lap. She barely glanced at Dean as she got out of the car.