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Terence – Sunday
That girl.
Her crazy careening roller derbying self flies down the street, nearly taking out one of the neighbors who dared to cut his grass on a Sunday afternoon.
All I can do is cross my arms and shake my head, but I’m not going to lie. She makes me smile.
Roller derby. A few weeks ago, it was fencing. Thank goodness that didn’t last long. She might be able to bounce her helmeted head off the pavement, but the thought of her falling on her own sword gave me nightmares.
Softball had seemed so safe until she took a ball to the face and had a black eye.
Before that was yoga on a stand-up paddleboard in the glacially cold lake out by Howard’s Pass. It was hard to see how that could go wrong until Alli dropped into the conversation that she’d never mastered swimming, which added a layer of anxiety (mine, not hers) to the paddle-boarding.
Ranger could rescue her from drowning in ten seconds flat if he had to, but Ranger isn’t always with her. Neither am I.
Why couldn’t she just stick with cosplay? I bought an outfit and considered surprising her by showing up at a conference, but I never had the nerve to go through with it.
But it was when she decided to take a job as a bike courier that I panicked. So many sleepless nights. I accompanied her on her route before I landed the dog spa job, though I knew my days of riding at her side were numbered. I had visions of her slip-sliding on the wintery streets, falling under traffic, getting knocked over by drivers who don’t pay attention… I know she wondered why I kept showing up unannounced to join her on her shifts. I told her I was trying to extend my comfort zone.
The truth… I was petrified of losing her.
That’s also about the time I realized I’m an anxious person.
It manifests itself in different ways. Nightmares, upset tummy (had to give up on caffeine since it was ruining the lining of my stomach, but I’ve never gotten used to this herbal tea stuff), and then there were the breathing issues.
I don’t blame Alli for it. She’s been the same ever since we were kids. In those days, she would climb too high on the jungle gym. Couldn’t she see that the bars were wider than the reach of her legs? It was basic physics, but she didn’t care.
She’s not any more adventurous or danger-loving now than back then, except that she does it in adult-sized doses.
She’ll do anything, try anything, and run from one thing to the next. I get dizzy just thinking about it.
The screen door slams behind me, an act that normally grates on me like nails on a chalkboard, but I’ve got to get myself in gear. If I’m going to make progress on this trend report at the dog spa, then a few hours on a Sunday will go a long way.
Out of habit, I look for Ranger and Alli when I step out of the front door, but they are long gone, probably already at the apartment Alli shares with her sister. They are like two cannonballs in a pod, those two. It’s a joyous miracle they get along as well as they do, since patience is neither of their virtues. But when it comes to being goodhearted, there’s no better than Alli and Cass. They went down very different paths—Alli, the lighthearted, get-a-job-to-get-her-by kind of girl, while Cass is a nurse. A good nurse. A serious nurse. And a fun-loving, crazy, live-by-the-seat-of-her-pants kind of nurse.
It's all in the family.
The fuel level dings in my car, and even though I’m sure I have plenty to get me out to the Dog’s Paw and back again, I don’t like to risk it. I pull into the closest gas station, even if it isn’t my preferred chain. We can’t have everything in life, after all.
Two girls lean on their car while one pumps the gas. I roll into a pump alongside them and get out of the car.
They’re staring at me.
“Good afternoon,” I say.
“Good afternoon,” they reply in unison.
One girl pulls down her sunglasses while the other raises an eyebrow. Then they look at each other and giggle.
It’s something that happened somewhere after high school because—believe me—all through school, I was a scrawny, scrimpy, scrappy kid. I grew up, but I didn’t grow out, so kids would tease me about being a flagpole, risking to snap in the wind, or how I’d be a jousting pole when I grew up.
It wasn’t until several years later that I realized what a stupid insult that was. At the time, it stung.
But no one would say I didn’t hold my own. Top of the class in math, English, science, and even parts of gym class, since my long legs drove me to speed past my schoolmates, even those older than me.
And when university came, finally I felt like I was right-sizing in my own skin. With my dad the way he was, of almost Viking dimensions, I feared I was going to be the black sheep of my family.
I didn’t have to worry.
