the winding gravel road that served as the only egress from the cove. The road twisted and turned behind the three cabins in the cove before skirting the lake for about a mile and reaching a paved road to the highway. She placed the earbuds in her ears and turned on a playlist called Running Mix, which included some of her favorite upbeat country singers mixed in with some high-octane rap music that she'd be embarrassed to listen to in public. As she climbed up the driveway to the road, she was treated to Charlie Daniels Band's version of the Devil Went Down to Georgia . It was probably the wrong song to play as a warm up, as she took off at a near sprint. She wanted to get away and the faster the music, the faster the run.
The early morning sun cast long shadows over the road and the sweet smells of the early summer morning filled her nostrils as she sucked in big gulps of air to fill her lungs. She had never been much of a runner. But after marrying Josh and taking on the store full time, she needed an outlet for her pent up frustration, so she began with walks, which turned into light jogging and eventually long runs. Today she felt like she was a real runner. She participated in local races, such as Spokane's Bloomsday road race, one of the country's largest timed races. At 12 kilometers, it wasn't a standard race, but for some reason 40,000 people regularly turned out to take on the hilly course through downtown and west Spokane. Some people wore costumes and walked it, but she took it seriously and held her own with women many years younger.
Last year she completed three half-marathons too. She didn't brag about her times because she wasn't a speedster, but she was proud that her times had slowly decreased each race. It seemed that age didn't slow her down. She would turn 40 this year and she was convinced that her best years were still to come.
When she reached the stretch of road that ran parallel to the water, her playlist called up Alan Jackson's song Chattahoochee , which was ironically about the man in the song learning "a lot about livin' and a little about love" on a river. She glanced at the water as she ran, wondering if she'd learn anything about living on the lake this summer. And love? Not a chance.
She was embarrassed about last night. It's one thing to stumble through operating the boat, but she’d made a complete jerk of herself in front of everyone. And Amy didn't let her forget it. Once they were back inside the cabin the previous night, Amy pulled her aside and demanded an explanation.
"I'm not your mother," Amy said, her voice raised in anger, "but you know better than anyone that I raised you, not Mom. And I did not raise you to act like that. Is that how you'd like to see your daughter or son act? Don't answer that, because you'd better say no. No, I would never let them act that way! I don't know what history you have with that man, you were downright rude and I'm embarrassed for you. And after everything he did to help us? Why? Why did you treat him like that?"
"You don't know what it was like before I left the company," Amelia said. "It was the worst experience of my life and he was the center of it."
"That's no excuse."
"No, it's not. I'm sorry. You're right."
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Amy said.
"I'm not going to apologize to him. No way."
"If you are actually sorry, you are going to apologize. He's going to be our neighbor all summer. If you don't, I'm going to go over and do it for you."
Nate was going to be here all summer? Not great.
"Fine," Amelia said, worried that her sister would make things even worse, "I'll do it tomorrow."
"Good."
Amelia wondered how that conversation would go, but she put that out of her head for the moment. As she reached the highway and positioned herself on the shoulder of the road, Ice Cube's retro gangster rap song, It Was A Good Day , flooded her ears. The slower pace of the song relaxed her. It was quite a bit more