Page 22 of The Comeback Summer

“So... who’s the fourth member of your team?” he asks casually.

“I still have to find someone.”

He grins at me.

I stare at him. “What?”

“I’ll do it.” He picks up his donut for the first time and takes a giant bite. His voice is muffled when he speaks again. “The Down & Dirty. I’ll be on your team.”

I burst out laughing. This issoJosh. He’s a golden retriever, eager to go along with anything that sounds fun at a moment’s notice.

“Thanks,” I say, “but I didn’t ask you.”

“Well, you kinda did.” He gives me a cheeky grin.

I shake my head. “I need to think about how to balance the team. We can’t let just anyone join—”

“Come on, I’m not justanyone—”

“—and I should discuss it with Libby and Scott before making a decision.”

“I’ll be useful,” he says, leaning forward. “You know I will. How tall is this Great Scott guy?”

“Maybe five eight, five nine.”

“There you go. You need someone who has reach.”

He has a point; the best Down & Dirty teams are made up of people with different skill sets. The women from my running group will have strengths similar to mine: excellent endurance, not-so-excellent upper-body strength. Libby has never done anything like this before, so it’s hard to guess what her strengths will be. Scott is also a wild card. He could either blow us all away or whine through the whole thing.

We need someone tall and strong, who can heft the rest of the team over a twelve-foot wall, then pull himself over. We also need someone who will be relentlessly happy, even when we’re all exhausted and in pain. Josh would fill both those roles.

But: Libby would murder me.

Butbut: she isn’t here. And even though the Down & Dirty is about finishing, not winning, I’m competitive by nature. I want my team to do well.

“Okay, fine,” I say.

He raises both arms to the sky and gives a victorious whoop. “Yes! This is going to be awesome.”

His excited shout makes multiple heads turn our way. I catch the woman next to us checking Josh out, then glancing at me with an appraising look.

I should’ve worn the sundress. And maybe spent more time on my makeup.

“Are you seeing anyone?” I ask him abruptly.

He startles. “Um. You mean, am I in a relationship? No. I’m not. Not anymore.”

He shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable, and I decide that it’s not polite to ask for more details. I wouldn’t want him asking about my relationship history. Not that there’s much to say.I’ve had sex with three people since you, and it was all terrible. I think you broke me.

Clearing my throat, I ask, “How’s your family? Are your parents still in Evanston?”

He nods, taking a long swallow from his coffee.

“How’s Suzanne?” I ask. That’s his sister, five years older. “Drew must be, what, seven by now?”

His eyes light up at the mention of his nephew. “He turned eight last month. And Suz and Eric have a little girl now, too. Zella. She’s four. Want to see a picture?”

“Of course,” I say.

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