I laugh at first, but as I study her face, I realize that her smile is soft, and she isn’t joking.
“It’s the only thing I can control,” I shrug. “Swimming? That’s all me—and if I win, that’s on me. If I lose, it starts and ends with me.”
I feel her shake where our arms touch, and I glance to her face to see her laughing quietly.
“Oh, Will…” she says. “Honey, you can’t control a damn thing. But I promise you this…”
She tugs on my arm, encouraging me to stand with her. I pull my tired legs in and obey, letting her hold me by the shoulders, our toes facing so she can look me in the eyes.
“The sooner you realize that this life is just a ride, and that there are good parts there to enjoy, to balance out the crap that makes you sick, well…you might just find yourself creeping closer to that eighteen number you all seem so obsessed with,” she winks, her lip ticking up higher on one side.
“Your daughter is a lot like you, you know?” I say, following her lead as we head inside.
She glances over her shoulder, speaking from one side of her mouth.
“Why do you think she’s so fast?” she says.
I chuckle as we enter the main room, and Maddy’s eyes find mine through the dozen other people here. I slip my hand in hers and revel in the squeeze she gives me back. I taste the sweetness of the cider and hold it in my mouth long enough to feel the tickle of the bubbles on my tongue. I make sure to notice the colors of other people’s eyes when we shake hands, to listen to the timber of their voices when they tell me I had a great race. I let the sound of Curtis’s laugh settle in my own chest, and I try to replicate it in my own way.
I live in the moments. I force myself to every second for the entire evening. I want to find the joy, but somehow, when each precious thing passes, I sink right back to the bottom where nothing but failures and duties live.
Maddy’s touch grows tender in my hand, and she frees from my grip, sliding her fingers up my arm to the tight muscles of my neck. Her thumb and fingers press lightly, and I succumb to her efforts, closing my eyes and breathing through my nose. I nearly relax when the clanking sound of a spoon on a glass jolts me to attention. I glance around the room to find Curtis standing on one of their dining-room chairs, a little drunk.
“I wanted to make an announcement,” he says, his smile crooked and his body wobbly. Susan rolls her eyes and steps up next to him, holding her hand on his lower back. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he grins.
She raises her brow and shakes her head.
All eyes move to Curtis, and his jolliness shifts as his hand covers his mouth and his chin sinks to his chest.
“I want to thank you all for training here,” he begins, pausing, his eyes blinking at the floor. I look to Maddy and she glances at me, her head falling to the side, and my heart sinks. I’m not sure what news Curtis is about to deliver, but I know enough from the things I’ve survived to brace myself.
“This Swim Club…it has been my life…our lives. Maddy, Susan, me…Will,” he looks up, nodding toward me. “I think people are born competitors. I am one. I married one. Our daughter, Maddy—she’s a lion. There is no one fiercer than her when it comes to those waters outside.”
“Where is he going with this?” I whisper to Maddy.
Her hand squeezes mine harder, and when I look at her, her eyes set on her father, the tears pooling in them, I feel that sense of loss wrap it’s claws around my insides again.
“I wanted you all to know the honor you hold,” Curtis says. “You will be the final group of swimmers to train here…”
Gasps fill the air, and Maddy’s strength falters next to me. I reach around her and hold her against me, my stomach sick.
“Don’t…no…” Curtis shakes his head. “Don’t be sad,” he says, raising his head, a genuine smile on his face as his eyes scan around the room, finally settling on mine. His mouth curves more when our gazes meet. “Don’t you dare be sad,” he says, as if these words are meant for me. “I have had so much joy running this place, working with you all. I have loved helping you compete. And I intend to see it through to the very end, through trials and at the Olympics. My dream lives on with each of you…it’s just the mortgages that need to stop.”
A few people laugh lightly, and Curtis smiles as he looks down at Susan, reaching to hold her hand.
“Let’s raise our glasses to toast,” he says, lifting his champagne, the real stuff for him. “To one more race…to the Shore Club and memories. And to that god-forsaken, bloody-hard-to-get, goddamned eighteen!”
“Here, here,” several people shout, raising their glasses and drinking their liquid down in gulps. I hold my eyes on Curtis’s, each of us looking at one another through the celebration. I need to find the joy, and I need to get that number for him. I need to win if I want to swim for him past the trials.