“Hey darlin’, you look like you need Hailey’s chair.” Sarah came around, hugged them both and placed a gentle kiss on Stephen’s lips. “I’m so proud of you. But I never doubted for a second that you could do it.”
“Well,” the calm of his voice resonated with satisfaction, “I might have to admit at least a couple of seconds of doubt.”
Hailey took his hand and interlocked her fingers into his, “Daddy, how do you feel?”
Stephen stared at her in a drifting pause before exhaling and letting out a jovial yet pained laugh, “Good. I feel really good.” He paused for a moment and considered his state, “But, I think. Yes, I’m also really sore. You might need to carry me home.”
Sarah interjected, “Well, my love, as much as I would do anything for you, that isn’t going to happen at the moment. You should probably change your shirt!”
Fingers still intertwined with Hailey, Stephen grabbed Sarah by the waist and pulled her closer. He paused and looked around, taking in the moment with a deep breath that he held and savored. Releasing the pain, the frustration, the anger, the regrets and resentments; those hindrances which had burdened him for so long, he let each of them go. Standing victorious in the finisher’s area, holding in his arms the most precious people in his life, he felt peace. Its presence was welcome but this time it wasn’t alone. Something else tugged at him, something that now wanted to be a part of his life. It took him only a brief moment to recognize the feeling as a sense of appreciating the world around him. It brought him a thankfulness not just for the specialness of this moment, but for every moment ahead of him. Stephen lifted his head and closed his eyes skyward. He released a joyful sigh and then allowed the brilliance of the beautiful day to wash over him.
After a moment, Sarah affectionately squeezed his hand as other finishers continued to shuffle past them toward the finishing area, “We should probably get moving.”
Opening his eyes, he kissed Sarah on the forehead. “Yeah, babe. You’re right.” He grabbed the handrails of Hailey’s wheelchair and began helping her towards the race exit. “Besides, we still need to swing by and pick up my father.”
Sarah responded with disconnected confusion, “Your what?”
Hailey registered the passing comment and chirped in, “Grandpa’s here? Who brought Grandpa to the race?”
The Cool Down
“Has anyone seen my purple hair brush?” The bellowing from upstairs continued, “I have to use the purple brush. It’s the only one that gets the knots out without tearing my hair! Does anyone know where it is?”
Stephen’s baritone voice returned the bellowing, “Hailey, sweetheart. I really have no idea know where your brush is. But are you still in the shower?”
She emerged from her room and began down the stairs, still drying wet hair. “I’m out, Dad. I think I left might have left my brush on Mom’s sink.” Stephen pressed against the wall as Hailey hurriedly scooted past him, long wet hair being tossed around by the gyrations of her towel slapped him in the face as she flew past him on the stairs.
“Dad, tomorrow night I need to go over to Jessica’s house. Her mom’s helping us put together the banner for Friday’s pep rally. I really need to be there. So you can take me to Jessica’s, right?”
“Not tomorrow, Hailey. I’ll ask Mom to take you. Remember that I’m having Mr. Ray come by the house tomorrow.”
“For another counseling session?” Hailey responded passively.
“For a chat.”
“I think it’s neat that you guys are… chatting. He’s cool.” She looked at Stephen’s attire and without missing a breath she asked, “Are you and Mom headed off for another run?”
“Yeah, we should be back in about an hour or so.”
“Alright. But remember, you said you would go to church with us today. You promised and we can’t be late.”
“Right. Yeah, I’m on board.” Stephen glanced down at his recent birthday present. The watch measured his heart rate, his pace, and even his current elevation. What he couldn’t find was the actual time of day. He pressed buttons that made an awkward beeping alert, which only announced his lack of familiarity with the seemingly space-aged technology. “I’m sure we’ll be back with plenty of time to get ready.”
“Okay…” Hailey responded in a condescending voice that only a teenage girl could deliver. “Oh BTW, Grandpa’s coming with us to the potluck dinner tonight too.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, he hasn’t been very social since Grandma passed. He’s overdue.” Hailey wandered through the living room, found her phone and instantly began punching away at the screen’s letters.
Stephen followed her and said, “And you asked Grandpa if he wanted to go to the dinner with us, right?” Eye contact had been lost and he was now having a conversation with the top of his daughter’s towel twirled head.
“Sure! We talked about it last night.” Her head still focused on the phone.
“Sweetheart, Grandpa doesn’t talk. He makes motions with his hand, remember?”
“Uh-huh.” Hailey exhibited her minimal attention span.
“Hailey, when you were having this conversation with Grandpa were you looking at him, or your phone?”
“Dad!” Her head shot up causing her towel to slip into her hand as she displayed a pose of pure and absolute shock, “I cannot be expected to remember intricate details of every conversation.”
Stephen was only pretty sure he wasn’t going to respond to this sassy display.
She gave him a cheeky smile, “But silence is consent. Right, Dad?”
“Well, I suppose in this case, it’s alright.”
Hailey’s attention shifted again and she darted upstairs, phone in one hand, towel in the other, purple brush in neither. “Okay. I’ll let Grandpa know when he needs to start getting dressed for church. You guys have a good run but don’t be late; okay?”
“Alright, we’ll be back in time. Thanks, sweetheart.” His voice trailed after her but never made it past the empty stairs.
He turned and murmured to an empty room, “And… you forgot your hair brush.”
He opened the front door and stepped onto the wooden deck. The door closed behind him and without looking, Stephen outstretched his arm and made a fist. His arm lingered in the air for a brief moment before Tom’s fist reached up from grasping the chair’s armrest and connected with a bump.
Stephen pulled in a long, deep draw of breath and slowly exhaled, feeling the gentle tickle of a soft breeze feathering across his skin. “Wow. This is a beautiful day. Isn’t it, Dad?”
Tom picked his coffee cup off the armrest, gave Stephen a reassuring grunt and resumed rocking the creaky old wooden chair.
“Yeah. One heck of a beautiful day.” Stephen took in a deep breath to appreciate the moment.
“Hey there! You gonna stand around or you gonna lace up?” Sarah called out to him as she leaned over from a hamstring stretch at the end of their walkway.
“Oh… I’m laced up alright. Laced up and geared up, good-lookin’.”
From the distance, Sarah flirted back with a wink, “Then I hope you brought the Icy Hot ’cause those bones sure aren’t getting any younger,”
Stephen looked across the wooden porch, “Ya know, I was thinking there might be room enough on this porch for two rocking chairs.”
“Oh? Are you planning on taking up a career of rocking a noisy old chair, talking about the good old days and yelling at the teenagers for driving by too fast?
“There could be worse ways to spend weekends.” Stephen offered.
“You sure Tom wants the company?” Sarah laughed.