Page 25 of Knight's Journey

He hoped he still had a job when he was done.

Chapter Nine

Bridget rolled over and tapped her phone screen three times until she successfully silencing her alarm. Then she rotated back on her side in protest of the early hour. Day two of her four-day break from work, and she was already chastising herself for agreeing to go on a run with Mathias.

The kid loved to run even before his parents died, but lately, he gained a new obsession for it. Though he wasn’t playing high school sports anymore, he kept up with the exercise, which kept him lean despite his voracious appetite.

Not long after her niece and nephew came to live with her, she decided to join him on his runs. She thought it would give her a chance to connect with him. Though runningwithhim wasn’t an accurate description. His long strides and stronger lung capacity meant he was faster and covered more ground than she.

She sighed as she pushed herself to a sitting position on the mattress. If she didn’t get out of bed, Mathias would guess she’d changed her mind, and he would start his run without her. She forced herself up from the warmth of her covers.

Her feet padded lightly against the floor as she made her way into the bathroom, still shaking off the last remnants of sleep. She took care of her needs, washed her hands and face and secured her short tresses in a messy bun. She shed her sleep shirt as she moved to her dresser, pulling on a sports bra, loose T-shirt and spandex leggings. She added a breathable cotton headband to hold loose tendrils of her hair back from her face.

When she opened her bedroom door, the rich aroma of coffee greeted her, filling her mouth with saliva. Before she moved to the kitchen, she peeked in on Marlowe with a soft smile. The teenager’s covers were pulled from the mattress and wound around her like a cocoon. In addition to the pillow she rested her head on, two other pillows rested on the mattress on either side of her. At her feet was a large stuffed hippopotamus her mother had given her one year as a birthday present. Vivian the hippo was a muted gray with pink material on the inside of the ears and on its chest and belly. Gray stitches, a darker shade than the hippo, gave evidence to the holes which once leaked stuffing until Jennifer had sewn them together.

As Bridget was about to walk away, she noticed her niece’s phone sitting on the nightstand, the screen faded to black. A charger cord stretched across the nightstand, the end hanging off the edge. With a sigh, she walked over to plug up the phone and waited for it to have enough charge for her to adjust the volume. Just in case they needed to call while they were on a run, Bridget wanted her niece to hear the phone.

She finally made it to the kitchen and sighed when she saw the steaming mug of coffee waiting for her on the top of the bar in the kitchen. She settled on a bistro chair, wrapped her hands around the warm mug and smiled to see her requisite cream was already added. She savored the first sip, closing her eyes as the liquid warmed its way down her throat to her stomach.

Then she opened her eyes and settled her gaze on her nephew. Mathias stood at the counter, resting his weight against the sink as he chugged a bottle of water. His hair, a gorgeous shade of golden brown, fell across his forehead, framing his hazel eyes. His T-shirt and nylon basketball shorts were mismatched in color, his running shoes scuffed from hours of use.

“You don’t have to come.”

She took another sip. “I may not be a morning person, but I do want to spend time with you. If we get back in time, I thought I’d head out for some doughnuts for breakfast while you and Marlowe got ready for school.”

“Sounds good.”

Downing half of her coffee, she pushed up to her feet. “I think that’s enough for now. Ready?”

He crushed his empty water bottle between his hands and raised his arms to pitch it toward the recycling bin in a perfect arc. “Let’s go.”

Their house was small, the neighborhood quiet. The hour was too early for their neighbors to be up and about. Bridget set the security alarm and followed Mathias out of the house, securing the door behind them. Some might say her security system was overkill in a community which was too boring to warrant it, but she didn’t take any chances with how often her kids were home alone. She even considered getting a guard dog to amp up the security for her own peace of mind, but she had not had time to scour the rescue shelter for a pet.

As was their habit, the two started running side by side, Mathias adjusting his strides so Bridget could easily keep up. Only the sound of their shoes pounding against the pavement punctuated their run. The sky shifted from a murky black to a gray which would give way to the brilliant yellows and oranges of the sunrise.

Once they were able to see their surroundings without the aid of streetlamps, Bridget motioned for her nephew to run on ahead. He needed no other encouragement for his long legs to carry him rapidly down the road and out of her sight. She knew the spot where he would stop to wait for her, so she set her own pace knowing there was no rush to catch up.

Before long, she passed the sprawling, two-story brick structure of Johnson Rainier High School with its pristine lawn and broad, white columns. The digital marquee scrolled a series of announcements, and Bridget noted the upcoming football game and pep rally and a Technology Fair being hosted by the STEM program. Marlowe mentioned something about the fair yesterday, and Bridget would have to ask her more about it over breakfast.

She slowed her pace as she neared Mathias standing by the fence surrounding the football field. He rested one hand on top of the chain link fence while the other sat on his hip. His eyes stared out over the field. He wasn’t even out of breath.The sorry dog,she thought with a modicum of jealousy. She was going to need a minute before she could do more than say hello without huffing and puffing.

She walked the last few feet to stand beside him, working to slow her breathing. She thought she detected a hint of wistfulness in his profile. “Do you miss it?”

At one time, Mathias was a star athlete, his ability coming from his father who showed enough promise to attend college on an athletic scholarship. Mathias excelled as a quarterback for his high school football team. He was the first baseman for his baseball team, and he medaled in track on more than one occasion.

Bridget made it to several of his games, cheering alongside Jennifer and Dean. Even Marlowe would glance up from her book long enough to root for her big brother. As impressive as Mathias was as an athlete, his true accomplishment was his sportsmanship, something Dean drilled into him nonstop. He was respectful of his coach, teammates and competitors. He never missed a practice or a game unless he was too sick to get out of bed or too injured to play. He never missed a chance to lift up his other teammates for their successes, and his coach had often asked him to mentor newer players on how to work as a team.

Mathias’ love for the game died with his parents in the car accident. He finished his seasons — because he was raised to see his commitments through — but he decided when he transferred to Johnson Rainier that his athletic career was done. Dean and Jennifer would be heartbroken to know he gave up the sports he loved because of them, but Bridget understood. After that night, when the cops showed up on their doorstep and told her niece and nephew about the accident, nothing was the same for any of them.

Bridget hadn’t pushed him or attempted to change his mind. She believed they all needed time to find their new normal and to figure out who they were and what they wanted. But seeing his wistful eyes staring out over the football field made her wonder if she’d made a mistake.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” She nudged his shoulder until he regarded her. “I know something is up with you. If you don’t want to talk, I understand, but I’m here. For whatever you need.”

Mathias nodded but kept quiet for several minutes. She waited. She didn’t know if he would talk, or resume running or gaze out over the football field some more. Whatever he wanted to do, she would go with it.

“Do you think they would be mad?”

“No. Never.” Her emphatic response didn’t alleviate the worry lines between his eyebrows.

---