Page 28 of Summer Ever After
“That’s the spirit.” Jessica slapped me on my shoulder. “Come on, we should get the canoe ready. Jenny Jen Jen went to Stanford on a swimming scholarship, the only way she will lose this race is if Michael Phelps bought a cottage on the Lake.”
Jenny grinned. “I’m a little rusty.”
“Stop with the excuses.” Jessica put on a serious voice. “I’ve got money riding on this.”
We left Jenny to do her warmup exercises on the shore as the flotilla of dingies approached the beach. A pretty girl with brown hair jumped out of the blue sailboat and tagged Jenny. She dove into the lake and resurfaced thirty feet away. “Rusty my butt,” Jessica screamed.
“Do you truly have money riding on this?” I ran my hand over the varnished paddle.
Jessica lifted the stern of the canoe and nosed the bow into the lake. “Nah. I don’t gamble.” There were at least twenty other canoes lining the shore, and everyone’s gaze was focused on the bay, turbulent from the swimmers. It was almost impossible to pick Jenny out of the fray, but every once in a while, a pop of pink would be visible amongst the frothy water.
As the first swimmer reached the shore, Jessica and I stood poised next to the canoe, wearing matching paddling vests, paddles clutched in one hand, the gunwale of the canoe in the other.
The referee, a man wearing a Windswan Lake t-shirt and a whistle paced behind the canoes. “Remember, the bottom of your craft can’t leave the sand until you’re tagged by your swimmer.”
“Come on, Triple J,” Jessica shouted.
I kept my eyes trained on the water. This was just a community race, but it felt like an Olympic event. The crowd was screaming and all of the competitors on the canoe lineup were poised like tigers about to strike. Jenny’s arms pumped as she ran towards us. She slapped Jessica’s hand and the two of us sprinted into the lake.
“Now,” Jessica shouted.
I hopped into the canoe and settled into a three-point position, my knees bracing against the sides, my butt perched on the edge of the seat. The canoe surged forward as both Jessica and I stroked at the same time. Her job was more complicated than mine, she had to steer. All I had to do, was paddle, as hard as I possibly could. She was like the steering wheel, while I was the engine. The years of canoe trips had given me the skill, and the hours of scrubbing floors and wielding mops had kept my arms in shape.
For the first half of the race, we jockeyed for first place position with a canoe paddled by two men who looked to be in their fifties. They were suntanned and looked like they spent their summers on the golf and tennis courts. One man shouted ‘stroke’ to the other, but Jessica and I had managed to get into perfect synchronization without any verbal clues. We rounded the buoy and we both executed a draw maneuver, cutting in front of the golf dads before returning to our powerful rhythm.
We had created a gap that only got larger the closer we got to the finish line. I was breathing hard, but it felt good. The sun beat down on my face and I wished that I had a pair of polarized glasses like the men now in second place. I squinted as we paddled into the sun, the lake sparkling all around us as a light breeze flicked my ponytail. Sweat had formed under the band of my bra and I hoped that my work shirt would camouflage my sweaty pits and lower back.
Sand scratched the hull of the canoe as we hit the beach at top speed. I wondered whose canoe we were using because we’d definitely added some scratches. Jessica and I hopped out and sprinted down the beach, breaking through the finish line ribbon at the same time.
Romona, Amanda, and Jenny ran to Jessica and threw their arms around her. “Get in here, Rosie.” Jessica waved from their huddle. The friends opened their arms and without thinking I stepped into the winner’s embrace. Camaraderie like that was something I hadn’t experienced since my field hockey days and tears sprang to my eyes.
“You two were incredible.” Jenny stepped back. She smiled at me. “You can let go of the paddle now.”
“Thanks.” I hadn’t realized that it was still in my hand. “I’ll go put it with the canoe.”
After placing the paddle in the canoe, I returned to watch the rest of the participants cross the finish line with my ‘team’.
Jessica hooked her arm around my neck. “Where did you learn to paddle like that?”
“I used to camp a lot.”
The silver-haired second-place finishers came to shake our hands. “Who is your ringer?” The tallest of the team draped his arm over Jessica’s shoulder. He looked to be in his fifties and Jessica didn’t look much older than twenty-five. I hoped that I was able to hide my cringe. After seeing some of the dinosaurs that Christina had dated, I didn’t have much respect for either party in a gold-digger relationship. Although Jessica Starling didn’t need any gold.
“Dad, this is Rosie.” Jessica elbowed…her father.
I was a judgemental jerk.
“Please to meet you, Rosie. I’m Laird.” The sides of his eyes crinkled from behind his polarized Ray=bans.
“Nice to meet you…” My voice trailed off as I shook his hand. “Mister Laird.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly as I fumbled my words. He was my boss, I should’ve called him Mr. Starling, but he had introduced himself as Laird. My brain mashed the two of them together into one embarrassing half-name. “Mr. Starling.” I corrected.
He laughed. “It’s just Laird. Nice work out there. You and Jessica make a great team.”
“Thank you. Although I think that there might be a few more ringers on this team.” I smiled at Jenny. “Are you a professional swimmer?”
“Not anymore.” Jenny winked. “But I was All American at Stanford – and Ramona still races sailboats, but she specializes in big boats, not dingies.”
