Midnight Run (15 page)

He shook his head. “First day on this
route.”

Nora sighed heavily, but she propped the door
open and led him through the back to the freezer and rapidly
explained the shelving system before leaving him alone to
unload.

Poking her head around the front, she saw
that Laurel was slammed with customers, but Nora tried not to feel
guilty. “Delivery guy’s here,” she called, “so shut the back door
when you get a chance.”

Laurel shot her a dirty look, but she didn’t
say anything as Nora hurried to the back to grab her shoes.
If I
take a cab to Central Park, I might still make it,
she thought,
reaching for the shelf where she’d left her shoes.

Her fingers brushed against Laurel’s purse,
but there weren’t any shoes on the shelf.
Did they fall?
Nora wondered, squatting down and looking under the shelf, but she
didn’t see the familiar neon laces.

“All done,” the delivery guy called from
behind her, but Nora was too distracted to do more than wave at
him. Her eyes skimmed every surface in the breakroom, and her heart
started to pound. Her shoes were nowhere in sight.

Suddenly, it dawned on her.
Laurel
,
she thought, marching back to the front of the store with
determination. “What happened to my shoes?”

Laurel ignored her as she rang up another
customer, and Nora clenched her fists.

“Laurel, this isn’t funny. I’m already late;
would you just tell me what you did with my shoes?”

Laurel blinked at her innocently. “What
shoes?”

Nora exhaled loudly. “My running shoes. They
were in the back, and now they’re gone.”

The girl shrugged and started making a latte.
“Why would I know anything about your stupid shoes?”

“Maybe because you love going out of your way
to torture me?” Nora’s voice cracked, and Laurel smirked.

“You really are ridiculous,” she said,
handing the drink to the customer with a smile before heading back
to ring up the next patron. “But since you’re still here, I could
use some help.”

Completely at a loss, Nora stared at her for
a moment. “Laurel, I paid a lot of money to run the half marathon,”
she finally pleaded. “Would you please just give me back my
shoes?”

Laurel shrugged. “Why are you so sure I took
them? Somebody could have stolen them.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “Right. Out of the back
break room.”

“You said there was a delivery; maybe the
driver took them.”

A seed of doubt started to form in Nora’s
mind. “Seriously?”

Laurel shrugged and locked eyes with Nora.
“It’s a better explanation than the one you’re going off on.” She
raised her voice a little bit, and Nora got the impression that the
customers were listening intently. “Why would I do something so
awful?”

Nora shook her head. “Fine. Fine, don’t admit
it. I’ll just buy another pair on my way to the race.”

Laurel smirked and tipped her head toward the
clock. “At this hour?”

Nora glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. It was ten to six; there was
no way she could make it for her starting time, even if she could
fly.
And Laurel has a point; there aren’t any stores that are
open this early.

For a few heartbeats, she stood there, frozen
and dejected, watching the second hand tick on the clock. Finally,
she sighed deeply and pulled her apron off the hook. “You win,” she
said softly to Laurel as she started to make the next order. Laurel
didn’t say anything, but a satisfied smile spread across her
face.

Nora was sure that the girl had hidden her
shoes, but what could she do? Her hands were shaking as she made a
series of drinks, but as long as Laurel staunchly denied that she
knew anything about the shoes, Nora realized she was wasting her
breath. The minutes ticked by, and Nora sank more deeply into her
misery. She was just about ready to lose it altogether and start
crying into the espresso when a familiar voice pulled her out of
her thoughts.

“Why the long face?”

Nora looked up and met Colleen’s steady gaze.
“Nothing, really.” She said, trying and failing to brighten her
tone.

“I’m surprised to see you here today,”
Colleen answered. “Isn’t it the half marathon?”

Nora nodded, surprised the old women knew
that. “I was planning to run it,” she admitted, darting a glare at
Laurel’s back, “but now I can’t.”

“They wouldn’t give you the day off?” Colleen
clucked her tongue sympathetically.

“No, it’s not that.” Nora paused, wondering
if she should tell Colleen the truth. “My shoes are missing,” she
finally admitted. “Laurel—Laurel thinks somebody stole them.”

To Nora’s surprise, Colleen smiled. “Easiest
fix in the world.” She pulled out her cell phone, peering across
the counter at Nora’s feet. “What size do you wear, dear?”

“Um, seven,” Nora said, staring at the woman.
“What are you going to do?”

Colleen ignored her, turning around and
speaking rapidly into the phone. Nora thought she caught the store
address, but she couldn’t hear what else the older woman said. When
she hung up, she faced Nora with a triumphant smile. “You’ll be on
your way in no time.”

Nora shook her head. “There’s no way for me
to get another pair of shoes at this hour, and by the time the
stores open, the race will be over.”

Colleen winked at her. “Nothing is impossible
if you know the right people. I just called my son, and he’ll be
bringing you a new pair of shoes momentarily.”

“Your son?” Nora asked, feeling stupid. “What
does he have to do with all this?”

Colleen chuckled. “He owns Uptown Sports.
Took it over a few years ago after his father passed away.”

Another customer coughed loudly, and Nora
started making the next order, never taking her eyes off Colleen.
“I still don’t understand,” she finally admitted.

The older woman’s eyes sparkled. “I made him
open the store and grab a pair of our best running shoes in a
seven. He should be here any minute.”

Nora stared at her, astonished. “Seriously?
She managed to squeak.

Before Colleen could answer, the door to the
café opened and a guy carrying a big shoe box hurried in. Colleen
waved him over and pointed to Nora, and the man handed her the box
with a smile.

“Mom said you’re running the half today. Good
luck!”

Nora stared at him, her mouth open. “But,”
she began, looking at the box of expensive shoes in her hand, “how
can I pay for these? Should I come by the store after the
race?”

Colleen and her son laughed, and the man
shook his head. “When Mom tells me we’re giving away a pair of
shoes, I don’t ask questions.”

“They’re a gift?” Nora asked, feeling stupid.
“But this is too much!”

Colleen raised her eyebrow. “Do you want to
run the half or not?”

Nora’s hands tightened around the box. “I
want to run. I’ve been training for months!”

The older woman nodded. “Then get those
things laced up and stop standing here arguing about whether or not
you can accept the gift.”

A wide smile stretched across Nora’s face,
but then she glanced at the clock, and her heart fell. It was
already seven thirty. “I’ve missed my start time,” she said, trying
to hand the shoes back to Colleen’s son.

Colleen rolled her eyes. “They’ll let you
start late as long as you registered before the deadline.”

Nora’s eyes widened. “Really? How do you
know?”

Colleen’s son laughed. “Mom’s run her fair
share of halfs over the years.” He looked at the older woman with
pride. “She’s running the full this year.”

Nora gaped at the woman. “I had no idea you
ran!”

Colleen shrugged delicately. “You never
asked. Now, hurry up and get those shoes on, and we’ll drive you
over to the race.”

Ignoring Laurel’s angry expression, Nora
ripped off her apron and rushed around the counter, carrying the
box of shoes with a huge smile. “I’ll put them on in the car,” she
said, throwing her arms around Colleen. “I don’t know how to thank
you.”

The older woman smiled. “You can thank me by
running your fastest time today.”

Kingston’s allergies
hit a few days before the half marathon, and despite the
antihistamines he was popping like candy, he seriously considered
skipping the race. But quitting didn’t come easy to him, except
where women were concerned, so he laced up his running shoes and
headed down town for his seven thirty start time.

The last race he’d run back in Texas had
involved powdered paint and blasting music, and it had felt more
like a rave than a run. The crowd at the starting line for the half
marathon was a lot more subdued, but a heightened sense of energy
filled the air, and Kingston started to look forward to the run
despite his sinuses.

Even though it was technically spring, the
early morning air was still chilly, and Kingston wondered
fleetingly if he’d ever get used to weather in New York. After
admitting to his sister that he was thinking about leaving, he’d
started to tentatively scope out the transfer situation at work,
but things weren’t looking good; his work at the New York office
had been noticed by folks higher up the food chain than Mr. Fitz,
and after a few innocent questions about locations and
opportunities, Kingston got the impression that the bank would
fight to keep him in New York.

There
was
something about the place,
Kingston realized as joined the crush of runners at his start time.
It might not be the fairy tale of his youth, but when he ran down
42
^nd
street and realized that the electric billboards
surrounding Times Square were still flashing, even in the pre-dawn
hours, he grinned broadly.
This is what drew me here,
he
thought as he tried to keep his pace steady.
The lights, the
grit…there’s nowhere quit like it.

The course looped through the city, and
Kingston thought it just might be the best way to see New York; the
streets, famous for their traffic and noise, were strangely silent
with all the traffic blocked off. The only sounds Kingston could
hear were the cheers from the spectators lining the course, the
pounding of the feet surrounding him, and the beating of his own
heart.

He tried to catch his breath, but it was hard
to remember to breathe through the smile plastered on his face, and
he noticed similar expressions on some of the other race
participants. The streets still smelled like smoke and car exhaust,
even without the traffic, but Kingston breathed it all in with a
ridiculous grin. His feet pounded into the asphalt, and he imagined
that he could feel the thrumming pulse of the city with every step
he took.

Kingston had no idea how many people had run
the half that morning, but he felt like he was connected to each
and every person there; they’d all been witnesses to the surge of
emotion he’d felt while he was running around Manhattan, and that
intimacy made Kingston feel like all the other runners were his
closest friends and family.

By the time he reached the finish line, he
felt like his chest was about to burst open, but it wasn’t strictly
due to exertion. Despite his allergies, despite his wounded heart,
despite everything, Kingston had fallen back in love that morning,
and this time, he didn’t think he’d be falling out any time
soon.

This time, he’d fallen in love with the
city.

Colleen’s son had
arrived in a private car with a driver, but Nora was too excited
about the race to really enjoy the thrill of riding through New
York behind tinted glass. When they pulled up to the park, Nora
popped onto the curb and bounced on her toes.

“These feel great,” she said, grinning at
Colleen and her son. “Seriously the best shoes I’ve ever had.”

Colleen smiled. “I know it’s not ideal to run
in a brand new pair, but I’d hate to think of you missing your
first half.”

Her son passed a stack of Band-Aids to Nora.
“You might want these, just in case.”

She smiled and tucked them into her arm band.
“Thank you. And thank you both so much; I still can’t believe I
actually get to race today!”

Colleen and her son smiled matching smiles as
Colleen leaned over to close the door. “You deserve to make your
dreams come true. Now, go run like you’ve never run before!”

Nora waved and hurried over to the
registration table. The crowd was considerably smaller than she
expected, and she wondered if most of the other runners had started
earlier. A woman at the table looked up at her and motioned her
forward with a smile.

“Hi,” Nora began, rocking back and forth in
her new shoes. “I was registered to start at six, but, um, I had a
work emergency.”

“Happens all the time. Name?”

“Nora Willson.” Nora held her breath, but the
woman just skimmed the list and smiled.

“Here’s your number,” she said, passing a
square of paper across the table to Nora. “You can start in the
next group; they’ll be going in five minutes. Is that okay?”

Nora grinned. “Perfect!” She pinned the
number to her shirt and moved over to one side. She was too keyed
up to do any kind of pre-race stretching, but she figured she’d
take it slow, just like with the running group, and treat the first
mile or so as a warm up. When the group lined up, Nora was in the
front, a wide smile on her face.

It was strange for her to be running in the
park in daylight; she’d gotten so used to her midnight runs that
she might as well have been running in a totally new place, and her
eyes drank in the springtime scenery. Trees that had looked like
skeletons at night actually had green buds on their limbs, and a
few early birds were singing, despite the chill of winter that
still lingered in the air. Nora kept an easy pace, focusing on the
familiar sound of her feet on the asphalt and ignoring the speed of
the other runners around her. Instead of looping the park twice,
the route veered off into the city, and tall buildings flashed by
as Nora ran along the barricaded streets. People lined the path of
the race, cheering and waving to their friends, but Nora was too
focused to really notice them.