Page 69 of Running Into You
“I can’t wait.” He takes my hand in his, resting them in my lap. “I mean it, Betty.” His eyes are on the road ahead of him, but his words touch me everywhere. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life loving you.”
My heart has never felt so full as I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Epilogue
Betty
I never thought I’d die running, but apparently, that’s going to be my fate. I’m going to die alone on this street and those that come after me will have to sidestep around my corpse or run right over it. I’m tempted to ask my watch how many people have died while running marathons, but I’m afraid to know the answer. The late May sun is beating down on me as I slowly make my way through the race.
Elizabeth Margaret St. Claire died on a picturesque day in Martha’s Vineyard.
Stop writing your obituary, Betty, and focus on the task at hand.
One foot in front of the other.
Think happy thoughts.
Clap if you believe in fairies.
Okay, the last one isn’t helping. Back to happy thoughts. I think about the food I’m going to devour later and the hot tub where I’m going to take up permanent residence back at our cottage. There had better not be rules about eating in the hot tub, and if there are, they are about to be broken.
After what feels like an agonizing eternity, the finish line comes into sight, and I can’t stop the tears from coming. All the training, all the setbacks, everything that’s happened in the past eight months has brought me here and I am about to finish a marathon. I must be one of the last people to finish, but there is still a small crowd gathered by the finish line.
“MOVE THAT SEXY ASS, ST. CLAIRE! YOU FUCKING DID IT!” Rilla screams, and a brief shocked silence stretches over the crowd, followed by raucous cheers and loud applause. I see her and Maggie jumping up and down in their custom-made I Love Betty St. Claire shirts as I near the finish line. Several people from Advantage are also there cheering me on. For a moment, I think my legs might actually give out on me and I may not make it over the finish line.
That’s when I see him.
Josh stands just behind the finish line, beaming with pride. He’s wearing his own I Love Betty St. Claire T-shirt. In front of him, he holds a shiny, thermal emergency blanket and he looks ready to wrap me in it. I will my legs to keep moving and run straight into his outstretched arms.
“That’s my girl,” he says into my hair, holding me tighter than ever before. I’m vaguely aware of others gathering around us, but I keep my face buried in his chest. He’s holding the thermal blanket around me and between that and the heat of his body against me, I start to warm up. His hold on me hasn’t loosened and I’m quite sure that if my legs do give out, I will stay exactly where I am in his arms.
Rilla and Maggie wiggle their way into the inner circle and there is more hugging and crying. Maggie has some sort of sugary citrus sports drink that I gladly accept. I think it might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
Eventually, I’m swarmed by the Advantage crew and ushered over to where my coworkers are waiting for me to take a group picture.
“Sorry I kept you waiting, everyone.” I smile through chattering teeth. The other runners throw their arms around me, and someone pops a bottle of champagne. Andrew gives me a warm hug before Sara pushes him out of the way, hugging me with surprising force.
“We ran a marathon, Liz!” Tears swim in her hazel eyes and I can’t help getting emotional all over again.
The wellness committee arranges us according to height and prepares to take our picture.
“I wish we’d qualified for the Boston Marathon. We could have run it together.” Sara frowns, looping her arm in mine and resting her head on my shoulder.
“I’m never putting myself through that again,” I say, grinning for the camera.
We say goodbye to my coworkers and make our way slowly to the car. Painfully slowly. It only takes a few minutes for us to drive back to our cottage.
“I think my legs might actually be quitting on me.” I wince, rubbing my numb appendages.
“They’re locking up. I’ll get you all fixed up,” Josh says, helping me out of the car. He kisses the top of my head and practically carries me inside. Rilla and Maggie are already inside, waiting for us.
“Have you followed my instructions?” Josh asks.
“To the letter.” Rilla salutes him as he carries me up to the second-floor bathroom where the claw-foot tub is filled with ice water. There are candles lit all around the room and rose petals have been scattered over the tile floor.
“No hot tub?”
“Ice tub today, hot tub tomorrow.” He helps me strip out of my clothes and gingerly lowers me into the tub. The temperature is a shock to my system, but it feels amazing on my swollen legs.
