Hold My Breath(91)

“Goddamnit!” My father’s face is red, his eyes bunched as he covers his mouth with his hand and relives the last twenty seconds over again in his head, searching for what went wrong.

“It was the start,” I say, and my dad nods.

His eyes meet mine, holding my stare until his palm falls away from his face. It wasn’t a loss, but to us, it feels like one. To Will—it is one. I look over to the pool’s edge where he’s climbed out, but remains kneeling, his eyes set on the lane he just left. His elbows are on his knees, and his chin is balanced on his fists, his jaw set tight and his eyes like sights for a sniper.

Those demons of his—they slow him down.





Chapter Twenty-One





Will





Second twice.

There’s a wall I can’t seem to get over. I didn’t even lose to the same guy each time, which means that on any given day, I’m slower than any other man I face in the pool.

I don’t feel much like celebrating, but Susan insisted on having everyone to their house. I took Duncan, Tanya, and Dylan home, yet nothing about that small house they live in felt like one. It made me sick to leave them there, though I know that they’ll be moving soon—to another place…that won’t feel like home.

I’ve been sitting on the porch stoop outside the Woodsens’ house for ten minutes, and I just can’t seem to get myself to go inside to join the laughter. I feel the door shift open behind me, and I turn enough to see Susan’s profile slip through the screen door.

“There are better hiding places than this, you know,” she jokes.

A breath of a laugh escapes my nose, and I glance up as she sits down next to me.

“I was planning to come in soon,” I say, not sure if I really was.

It’s been years since I’ve sat alone with Maddy’s mom. She was always the one to comfort me when I lost meets when I was a teenager, so I guess it’s fitting that she’s the one sitting here now. She lifts my elbow and slides her arm through mine, matronly, patting the top of my forearm with her other hand.

“We’ve come a long way from a popsicle making this all better, haven’t we,” she says.

I chuckle and nod, then turn to her with my nose scrunched.

“I hate to break it to you, but the popsicles never really worked either,” I admit.

“That’s because you take it all too seriously,” she says.

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.