I’m so busy looking over people’s heads to find Eric that I’m surprised when I spot Kate. What in the world is she doing here? I was always trying to get Kate to take up running with me, and she always brushed me off. And although she’s dressed in workout capris, her flip-flops tell me that she’s probably not running. Probably feeling my bewildered gaze on her, she looks my way and our eyes meet. Hers widen then narrow before composing themselves into normalcy. Mine are probably doing the same. I swallow my pride and decide to be the bigger person and wave. To her credit she waves back, but then turns around so her back is to me. I should probably go talk to her, but not until after the run. Right now my biggest commitment is to Gabriela, so I need to keep my head in the game.
As if I thought her into being, I see Gabriela walking up with her mother. Maria doesn’t speak much English and so when Gabriela points me out, Maria smiles as Gabriela lets go of her hand to run up to me. I give her a hug and say, “Are you ready to rock it today?” She nods enthusiastically and Maria points out to where she’ll be watching and leaves her daughter in my care.
Gabriela and I join the others for a group pep talk before we line up. At the starting line, Gabriela takes my hand and for a moment my heart squeezes and the unfortunate thought pops into my head, I may never have a child. I try to banish it and force myself to smile. But there it is, that empty hollow feeling. I look around to recalibrate myself. Fortunately I don’t see Kate this time, but I do spot Eric, who waves at me and gives me a thumbs-up. This makes my heart squeeze a little more. Good lord—between Kate, baby fever, and now trying to hide my secret crush, I’m not sure how I’m going to hold it together. Just then, I hear the starting gun—and we’re off!
Gabriela drops my hand the second we start running. There’s a fire in her and she’s off in a full sprint as I run next to her. I say, “Pacing,” to remind her not to burn out early, but she’s not listening to me, and her eyes flash with determination as her legs and arms pump up and down. After the first mile, she’s breathing hard and her face is tomato red, and so I remind her again, “Let’s save something for the finish line.” But she’s still not listening. She keeps on her sprint through mile two and then into mile three until we cross the finish line where we immediately start celebrating by jumping up and down. We’re both laughing and suddenly, and quite embarrassingly, I start crying. “You did it! You did it, Gabriela! I was trying to tell you to slow down, and you didn’t listen to me, but it’s okay because you did it!”
She is grinning from ear to ear and her mother comes rushing over saying something in Spanish, probably Congratulations and about how proud she is of her. And I wish I could communicate better to say how proud I am of her daughter too (oh, why did I take French in high school?), but I’m sure my beaming face tells all. In my heart, I say a little prayer that may Gabriela never listen to anyone who tells her to slow down and always go after what she wants with her full heart without any limitations. Without anyone telling her what she “should” or “shouldn’t” do. Without caring what others think or acting solely for their approval.
I hope she understands all that when I say, “Way to bring it! You’re a rock star, lady!” and give her another hug and high five. We check her time and it’s a personal best for her, which causes more celebration and high fives. And then Eric is there, “Do I get a high-five too?”
I laugh. “Of course you do!” And we slap hands. “This is my friend, Eric,” I say to Gabriela and her mother. “Eric this is Gabriela and Maria.”
“Congratulations,” he says.
“Thank you,” Gabriela says a little shyly, but not as shy as she was when we first met. Her mother smiles and says, “Hello. Hola.”
“Hola,” he says, following it up with something else in Spanish, which I don’t understand. Gabriela then says something back in Spanish, and Eric laughs. I don’t know what’s going on, but I just smile and laugh too. So, Eric speaks Spanish. Of course he does, because he’s not totally amazing or perfect already.
“There’s a breakfast tent where we’re going to refuel. Would you like to join us?” I say to Eric.
“Sure. Lead the way.”
As we walk over to the tent, Eric asks Gabriela how long she’s been running and, pumped full of endorphins and his attention, she can’t stop talking to him. I can tell he’s probably great with his CrossFit kids and, frankly, he’d probably be great with all kids. Sigh. At the tent, as I reach for a banana, in my peripheral vision, I see Kate talking to our program director. The director sees me too and waves me over. Give me strength. I plaster on a smile and walk over trying not to squish the banana in my clenched hands.
“Hey, Allison. This is Kate. She works at PR Worldwide, and they’re thinking of helping us with corporate sponsorship.”
“Hey,” she says to me, dully. Kate may be in PR, but even she’s not that good when it comes to smoothing out this awkward moment.
“Hi, Kate. Good to see you again.” I hold up my hands, one of which is still holding my uneaten banana. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m pretty sweaty after that run.” That, and you tried to ruin my life, bitch.
“Oh, you two know each other! Great!” The director seems excited. “So I wanted to bring Allison over. She has her own consulting firm and could probably be an asset to this discussion.”
“Great,” Kate says, though I know she means anything but, and the feeling is mutual.
What follows is an uncomfortable conversation where Kate explains that some of her clients are considering sponsoring programs that are in line with their community outreach efforts. Never mind that these clients are all my old clients that Kate stole, but this isn’t the time or place for a confrontational smackdown. As she talks, I feel the bile rising in my throat. For the sake of the program director, I just smile and nod (and use my poor banana as a stress ball).
After we all say our goodbyes, with Kate promising to follow up with the director to talk further and the director asking me to weigh in by conference call or lunch, we go our separate ways. I turn back to where I last saw Gabriela and her mother, but I don’t see them. Who I do see is Eric, and he’s talking to The Brunette from the coffeehouse, who is now wearing running gear. Is she part of Girls Run It too? Or is she here for Eric? Eric sees me looking over and smiles. He waves for me to come over, but after running into Kate and being forced into conversation, all my energy for handling uncomfortable situations has evaporated. So I wave back, but shake my head no as I point to the porta-potties. It’s not the most elegant way to avoid a conversation, but it’s the most convenient.
When I walk back from the porta-potties to the party, I feel my phone buzz with a text. It’s from Kate.
So, that was awkward. What are you doing tonight? Want to meet up?
I do not want to meet up, but I guess we really should. Especially if we’re going to be working together, again. I need to know what I’m up against and it’s probably better to confront her on my own terms than being ambushed into another awkward situation. No matter what, we need closure.
I type back: Sure. The Allis? 7?
The Allis is a lounge at Soho House where we used to go to celebrate our PR wins with champagne. Maybe it will remind her of better times when we were friends, before she decided to backstab me.