Running from Love: A Story for Runners and Lovers (28 page)

“San Diego. My brother lives there.”

Information gleaned, personal boundaries not crossed. Not visiting the jerk’s family, apparently.

“Great area. Good for running.”

“I know. I’m doing a 5K out there the day after Christmas.”

“With your brother?” Oops. Getting too personal again.

“Yes.” She didn’t volunteer anything more. “Want to keep going?”

“What’s further on?”

“North Riverdale. It’s pretty along Palisades Avenue.”

“Tell me there aren’t any more hills.”

“If that’s what you want to hear.”

“I do.”

“It’s flat as a pancake from here on then.”

“Liar.”

“Trash-talker.”

“Lover of orange.”

“And why not?”

“Because you’re Irish, that’s why not.”

“That’s not all I am.” She turned and continued up the road, now thankfully flat.

“And what’s the other half?” He pulled up alongside her. He could run all day with her next to him, distracting and provoking him. But the sun was getting low in the sky. They’d need to turn back soon.

“I told you before. It’s your homework.” Her voice brushed him like a feather. Now, it was she who was getting personal. She’d said that to him at Ryan’s on their first date. He wished they could go back to that evening and erase everything that had happened since. Almost everything.

“You’re right. Let me guess. Uhh—”

“Not now.”

“Why not?”

“‘I’m not in the mood.”

“Too personal, huh?”

“You said it.”

“Back to a little trash-talking then?”

“Sure.”

“So why’s a girl who wears a T-shirt like that not able to keep up? Huh?” He ran faster, moving ahead of her.

“Says who?” she stepped on the gas, trying to catch him.

“Says me,” he yelled over his shoulder, sailing ahead.

“Drop dead,” she shouted.

“You like to say that, don’t you?” he yelled back.

“Only to you!” she shouted.

“Too bad you can’t catch me,” he taunted, slowing down until she was almost beside him, then speeding up again.

“Bastard!”

“Now, you’re talking.”

“You’re doing that on purpose,” she yelled.

“Anything to get you moving,” he teased.

Their feet flew as fast as their banter. Soon they were at another turn in the road, this one curving inland, away from the Hudson. To the left stood a large institutional-looking building on a gorgeous expanse of lawn, sloping down to the river.

“What’s that over there?”

“It’s a retreat center.”

“Let’s go.”

“It’s for Catholics.”

“I am Catholic, and I need a retreat from your tongue.”

She giggled. “The gate to the parking lot’s open.”

“Let’s check out the river from there.” Together, they ran through the gate and down the length of the mostly empty parking lot to the far side, next to the river. There, they stopped.

“Looks like we’re going to catch the sunset,” Farrah pointed out.

Sure enough, the sun was setting in a great orange ball of fire over the New Jersey Palisades on the opposite shore. It would dip behind the steep cliffs lining the west side of the Hudson within minutes.

Standing side by side, Jude’s arm was within inches of Farrah’s. He wanted to reach out and draw her to him. But it wasn’t the moment. Instead, he imagined drawing her into his arms, praying the run and their light conversation had loosened the muscles of her mind as well as her body.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

“Yes.” Farrah stood like an Indian Princess next to him, straight, slim, and staring out over the river.

Like you.
It was all he could do not to say it.
Too personal, man. Rein it in.
“This must be the view from your place, no?” How well he remembered the end of their first date, the evening they’d gone to Ryan’s. They’d admired the Hudson, then they’d admired each other. His fingers itched to touch the back of her neck again, sliding up into her silky, thick hair. This time, he’d draw her to him and kiss her until she saw stars in her eyes.

“Yes. You can see this from my balcony.”

“No wonder you like living here.”

“I do.” She gave him a smile. He wished she’d give him her heart. But it was taken already. Or was it?

After a moment, the sun sank behind the New Jersey skyline. If they’d been on the Greek island of Santorini taking it in, they would have turned and kissed. Jude vowed the next time they watched the sun set together, they would. Maybe one day they’d even make it to Santorini.
Rein it in, man.

“We’d better get back,” Farrah said.

“Let’s come here again next week.”

“Next week’s Thanksgiving,” she reminded him.

“Oh. So it is. Are you around?” He hoped she didn’t think he was fishing.

“No. I’ll be out of town.”

“Yeah. Me, too. I’m going to my sister’s on Long Island.” Why had he told her that? She hadn’t asked, but he’d wanted her to know. If the past few months had played out differently he’d have taken her with him.

“Sounds nice,” she said, noncommittally.

“Want to get together the afternoon before?” he suggested, he hoped casually.

“I can’t. I’ll be—I’ll be busy.”

“Well, if anything changes, let me know. We could switch our run from Thursday to Wednesday then go back to Thursday the following week.”

“Jude.”

She’d said his name. It was so personal he wanted to squeeze her.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think this is a good idea?”

“Do you think you should be wearing that T-shirt if you can’t keep up with me on hills like that one back there?” Suddenly, it was he who didn’t want to get personal.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Don’t get personal. I can’t take it.”
Especially if you try to push me away.

She looked confused then amused.

“You love teasing me don’t you?” she asked.

“I grew up with an older sister. It was my only defense.”

“I’m just not sure we should be spending time together.”

His heart twisted like a knife. “You’re saying that because you can’t stand the thought of me beating you on the hills like that.” He’d keep it light. Otherwise, he’d break up into pieces. She wasn’t trying to cut him off completely again, was she? It was more than he could bear.

E
LEVEN

I
t had been too much fun. Too easy. If she didn’t watch herself, she would get massively confused again. Her heart had danced when Jude asked about her Thanksgiving Day plans. He’d wanted to know what she was doing on one of the most important days of the year. He’d suggested getting together the afternoon before when she’d told him she wasn’t free. He really wanted to spend time with her.

As the sun set over the Hudson she asked herself how she’d gotten herself into this position. Supposedly she was going to New Jersey to meet Will’s family for Thanksgiving. But Will hadn’t firmed it up. One week away, and she wasn’t really sure what she was doing. Will had said he’d get back to her with plans, but he hadn’t yet.

In comparison, the man standing next to her knew how to make plans and include her in them. That was more than could be said for her former boyfriend.

As they stood watching the sun go down, all she could think of was the evening in the parking lot after dinner at Ryan’s with Jude. How he’d played with her hair as they’d looked at the stars in the sky over the Hudson. Here they were again, looking out at the river, this time as the sun set. Jude seemed to be with her at the right moments. Or were they the right moments because he was with her?

Yet she’d been thrilled when Will had suggested going out to Saddle River to visit his family. She’d never met them. It had been a sore spot for her when they’d dated. Now, it was a sore spot again as Thanksgiving bore down on them, and Will hadn’t indicated anything definite about his invitation. In her book, meeting a man’s family for the first time wasn’t a casual thing. But it was classic Will to toss out an idea then drop it.

“Let’s go back,” she said, catching Jude’s eye as she turned from the river view. He looked sad, as if she’d hurt him. Instantly regretting that she’d said she wasn’t sure they should be spending so much time together, she saw in a flash what she’d done. She’d transferred the hurt Will had inflicted on her years earlier to another person. It had practically been the same thing he’d said to her on the phone when he’d ended their relationship. Why was she doing this to another person, especially one she liked?

“Listen, I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” she tried to explain.

“What did you mean then?”

“I meant I like spending time with you, but because I like it, I’m getting confused.”

“Okay, so let’s simplify. We’re spending time improving our hill runs together and refining our trash-talking techniques. Does that work for you?”

She laughed. He always made her laugh.

“Yes. I guess so.”

“Come on. You just guess so? You know I was pulling ahead of you back there.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke, to let her know he was teasing.

“Okay, you’re right. I need to work on my hills.”
Wait until you see how miserable I am on downhills.

“So let’s keep it going. Thursday afternoons we stick to sweat, tears, and trash-talking, strictly. Nothing more, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled at him even as she kicked herself inside. If only he could understand, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to be around him. It was the opposite. She wasn’t one of those women who could keep two men on a hook, reeling them in and out like puppets. She’d always admired women capable of such skills, but she wasn’t one of them.

“Let’s get back,” he said.

She followed in a slow jog out of the parking lot, their backs turned to the now-bedded sun, the gorgeous Hudson, and the memory of time spent together on its banks less than two months earlier.

“S
O, LISTEN
. W
HY
don’t we grab a bite at that place we used to go to around the corner down here, and then we can catch a movie?”

“What happened to Thanksgiving with your family? I mean—weren’t we going out to Saddle River?” She could hardly believe her ears.

“Something came up. My mother can’t see us. She’s coming into town over the holidays, and we’ll get together then.”

Farrah was stunned. It didn’t seem possible that she was back in this trap again, playing push-pull with Will. A black lump of disappointment then anger rose from the bottom of her stomach to her throat.

“Is that it or is it something more?” How could “something came up” count for anything other than the lamest of poor excuses?

“Come on, we’ll have fun. That French movie about Diaghilev is out and I’m dying to see it. It’s playing at Lincoln Center.”

“But on Thanksgiving?”

“Farrah, Thanksgiving is the best day of the year to catch a movie. No lines. Everyone in New York goes to the movies on Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“I’m a New Yorker, and I don’t think either of those days are the right time to go see a movie.”

“I meant everyone in Manhattan. It’s an insider thing. Like going out on Thursday nights because weekends belong to the bridge and tunnel types.”

“I
am
a bridge and tunnel type now. What are you saying?” Her blood boiled.

“I didn’t mean
you,
darling. You’ll be back here soon. Once we get a few things ironed out.”

He was the only man who had ever called her “darling.” It sounded so sophisticated and refined. Too bad she didn’t like the content of what was being said. Will’s put downs stung. She liked being a Riverdalian, and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to move back to the Upper West Side or into Will’s arms again. She burned at his presumptuousness.

“I’m not happy about the plan change,” she said, startled by her courage in letting him know she was put out.

“Darling, I can hardly help it. You have no idea what I’m dealing with when it comes to Mother.”

That was another thing. Will frequently derided his family members. What would he say about her if she were to become one?

“I’ve got to go. Bye.” Quickly, she got off the phone. Hanging up fast had been her best defense against everything since the all-fateful phone conversation that had ended their relationship three years earlier. Fuming, she strode to the window. It was two days before Thanksgiving, and she was fed up with being on her own, without family, without friends she could trust.

Jude’s honest, open face came to mind. Despite the Big Boy woman, the book he was writing, the society women hanging around him, she felt as if she could trust him. She had truly enjoyed running up and down Wave Hill with him. Hadn’t he said if plans change, let me know?

She hesitated. It wasn’t a good idea to call Jude just because she was furious with Will. She’d done it before, and it hadn’t worked out well. She’d go for a run, instead.

Pulling on her running clothes, she ran out of her apartment, into the elevator and out the downstairs lobby door, faster than she’d sprinted to the finish in her last race. She needed to clear her head.

As she pumped her arms, fresh, cold air filled her lungs. She loved her neighborhood, and she wasn’t going to join Will in putting it down. She wasn’t a Manhattanite any longer, eating Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners in restaurants then going to movies or shopping afterwards. Thanksgivings were for families. Since her father was out with Sean now in California and Mark was in Denver with his wife, she had none here on the East Coast.

Wistfully, she flew down the block, past the Charlotte Bronte apartment complex. It was an aerie high above the Hudson straight out of a fairy tale, an apartment complex built in the 1920s in the style of English Cotswold cottages. She’d point them out to Jude the next time they ran together. If there was a next time. Sadly, she thought back to her words.
Should we be spending time together?
She wished she could take them back.

Soon she turned the corner and headed down the road to the Spuyten Duyvil train station nestled under the bridge to Manhattan. Spuyten Duyvil meant “In spite of the devil” in Dutch. In spite of popular opinion, with Will heading up the snob squad, she liked living on the wrong side of Manhattan in the Bronx. It had been almost three years since she’d moved there, and she wasn’t going back. Jogging around the parking lot next to the water, she breathed in the river air. Whatever Will’s plans were for their future together, already they were rubbing against hers. She’d spent the past three years figuring out who she was, and she wasn’t exactly there yet, but she was on her way. She loved her track club, she loved the simple, homey atmosphere of Riverdale, and she was beginning to realize she still loved teaching. None of those facts would endear her to Will. And she no longer cared. What she cared about now was who was going to endear themselves to her? For a start, she needed to like the person she saw in the mirror.