Page 10 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Chapter Five
Nick
I thought of you today and wondered what you’d think of me now, this wandering wraith. But you don’t think of me, not anymore. You have gone and left me, empty and untethered to anyone else on earth.
Iwalked around Rob, watching his form.
“Good. Push.” He’d come a long way since we started training together.
The only sounds in my garage were his breathing and the mix he put on when he arrived—AC/DC, Metallica, and such.
“Two more,” I said, but he already knew it. I didn’t have to prompt him much—he had the drive. Alicia did too, of course. Arturo, the same. They’d all show well at regionals.
“Well done,” I said, always conscious of the need to praise. I could be harsh as a coach, so whenever I could, I gave words of affirmation. Never false praise, mind, but acknowledging successes, however small, could matter. Especially on an off day.
“Crap, man. That was brutal,” Rob said, staring sightlessly ahead as he wiped his face with a small towel.
“You’re welcome.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks.”
“Hand okay?” His hand seemed fully operational to me, but I’d noticed him flexing and stretching it more than usual last weekend.
He eyed his left hand, turning it front to back. “Yeah. Makes me feel old because in this colder weather, it stiffens up a ton. But grip strength is good.”
I nodded.Good. We had six weeks until the regional competition. He probably wouldn’t be competitive for a podium slot, but he wanted the experience and exposure, and since I’d already planned to go for Art and Alicia, it made sense he should go too. He’d qualified by the skin of his teeth, and now we had six weeks to get him closer to ready.
“You need to watch lengthening on the left side. You’re not quite fully extended when you’re overhead. Is that from the injury?” I asked, moving around the space, a twinge of anticipation hitting as the realization that my day’s obligations were nearly done, and soon, I could relax.
Rob let out a dramatic sigh. “Probably. It feels fully extended, but I can see it too. Yell at me next time.”
I nodded.
He moved to an open area in the corner of the space where yoga mats and bands waited. He’d need a good stretching session today and, no doubt, rolling. He’d need to ice later, too. I joined him, feeling tight from the workout I’d done earlier.
The housing office had given me two options to choose from when I first moved here after PCSing from Fort Bragg. The other was an apartment, which wouldn’t have worked. Thankfully, I finagled this one somehow, and it was pretty perfect. The garage was a spacious two-car setup, and though it didn’t have a door into the house directly, it did have insulation, which helped immensely, especially in these frigid winter months. I used space heaters to make up the difference, but with bodies moving around, it warmed up okay.
I’d collected the equipment for my gym over the last ten years, slowly building what I’d need. I’d planned to begin training people after retirement, but once Lieutenant Colonel Wolfe put me on PT scheduling and planning, I got the bug. I couldn’t push the whole battalion like I would people I trained directly, and once a few people approached me about one-on-ones, I fell into it.
I’d never imagined getting to be involved with athletes like Arturo or Alicia. They were excellent before they started with me. Both had experience but had let their training drop off due to the rotational schedule. That they’d both managed to clinch a spot in the regional competition didn’t surprise me, though they seemed absolutely floored.
After extensive stretching and rolling out muscles with foam rollers, Rob gathered his things, and I walked him out the side door and into the driveway.
“So, Summer bringing you food tonight? Thursday’s your day, right?” he asked from where he dumped his stuff in his car.
My chest kicked—irritation, of course.Summer.What a perfect name for the woman. Her facelookedlike summer. Warm, sunny, beautiful. And damn stubborn, from what I’d witnessed thus far.
Pretty she may have been, but that dogged insistence on feeding me didn’t make sense. Why did she even care? Unless it was some sort of weird performative nice girl ritual or something. No one wasactuallythat generous and thoughtful, but I couldn’t figure out her angle.
I didn’t let myself look toward her house.
“Not sure. I told her not to worry about it.”
He shook his head. “Why would you do that?”
I raised a shoulder in a shrug. “She doesn’t need to do that for me. I’ve got nothing else to worry about. I can cook.”
He looked around like I was crazy, but his attention caught on something. He started, and that response from him pushed me to follow his gaze.
