The wildwater walking club by Claire Cook

Author:Claire Cook [Claire Cook]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Roman
ISBN: 9781401341237
Published: 2010-08-15T07:00:00+00:00

Day 19

10,307 steps

I WOKE UP WITH A SERIOUS COQ AU VIN HEADACHE, BUT I dragged myself out of bed anyway. I knew the only thing that would help, besides about a gallon of water, was a nice long walk. In a world full of disappointment, walking was becoming the one thing I could actually count on.

Sometimes the first half mile or so was a little bit of a struggle, but then I got caught up in the conversation, or the beautiful day, or the soothing feeling of just putting one foot in front of the other, over and over and over again. Then the endorphins, those lifesaving opiatelike chemicals, would kick in, and I’d think, wow, maybe I really can make it through another day after all.

I choked down some vitamins, two Advil, plus a smoothie, drank some more water, and headed out to my driveway. Tess was already in my garage recording her mileage on the map.

“Can you believe we’ve only made it to West Woohoosett?” she said. “And, yes, of course there’s really a Woohoosett. It’s named after the red-billed Woohoosett—you can hear those damn birds woohooing all over town.”

“Did we walk through East Woohoosett on our way?” I asked.

“Absolutely. Don’t you remember? It’s the wildest part of town. Anyway, good thing we had those frequent flier miles, or we’d be lucky to cross the Massachusetts state line.” Tess looked up. “Geez, what happened to you? Have you been out partying with my daughter?”

“No,” I said. “With my mother.”

Rosie stepped into the garage. “And my father,” she said. “He had a great time last night, by the way.”

“Are you two having parties without me?” Tess asked. “I think that could get awkward.”

“Of course not,” I said. Even though we’d never actually talked about it, the lines seemed pretty clear to me. We walked together and then went back to the rest of our lives. The exception was anything involving our trip to Sequim. Over the years I’d learned that instant new best friend relationships often fizzled after a short burst of too much information, too much time together. Friendships that lasted needed time and space to evolve, and it was nice when everybody just got that.

“Noreen’s mother invited my father to dinner, that’s all,” Rosie said.

We filed out of the garage and started to walk. I moved up ahead of them on the sidewalk, hoping to give my head some time to clear. I’d had three glasses of red wine, if you didn’t count what was in the coq au vin, which was one critical glass over my limit. The older I got, the less I could get away with doing that. I wasn’t sure if I’d become more sensitive to alcohol or less accepting of feeling like shit. It didn’t seem fair somehow. Just getting through dinner with my new mother and her date should have been suffering enough.

Rosie was a little quieter than usual today, I thought. I knew I was. Tess filled the space created by our silence.

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