We head outside. The air’s warmed even further. I suck in deep breaths as I stretch my calves on Hallie’s front lawn.

Then I start running.

Jackson attempts to make small talk for the first block but runs out of breath a couple later. We’ve barely made it to the park—less than a mile from Hallie and Matt’s house—when he collapses on the grass. “Holy shit. How far was that?”

“Not far,” I respond, standing over him. “Want me to come back for you?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” He waves an arm and then lets it drop. “I’ll catch up.”

I highly doubt that but don’t bother disputing. I continue running through my hometown, opting to stay away from the downtown section and instead weaving through the residential neighborhoods stretching out on the fringes. I’d guess about a half hour has passed by the time I return to the park. Jackson is still there.

“Wasn’t sure if you were coming back.” He chuckles.

“Just had to get in five,” I reply.

“Five? You just ran five miles?” He gapes at me.

“Uh-huh.” I start running back toward Hallie’s. Jackson trails after me. Calling his pace a jog would be a compliment, but he makes it.

We emerge in the kitchen to find the scene virtually unchanged from when we left. Matt’s seated at the kitchen table with his parents, Matthew is asleep in his crib, and Hallie’s making sandwiches. With the exception of the baby, they all look at us as we enter.

“You good, little bro?” Matt asks Jackson.

“Great,” he wheezes, dropping down in the open chair. Hallie gives me a look.

I head to the fridge, grabbing a couple bottles of water. I hand one to Jackson and then drain most of the other one. I’m soaked with sweat, but I feel better.

“How far did you guys go?” Matt questions.

I wait for Jackson to answer. “I only made it to the park. Saylor ran five miles after.”

Everyone gapes at me. “It’s less than I would have run at practice,” I say with a shrug.

“My goodness.” Matt’s father chuckles. “Guess you won’t be able to complain about lacrosse any longer, Jackson.”

It’s impossible to tell because his face is already so red, but I’m pretty sure Jackson is blushing.

“I’m going to shower,” I announce.

“Towels are in the closet,” Hallie informs me as she spreads mayonnaise on bread.

“Great.” I grab my duffle bag and head upstairs.

This is going to be a long weekend.

* * *

“There wasn’t anyone you wanted to invite to the wedding, Saylor?” Sandra asks. She showed up an hour ago to pick up her wedding dress from the closet where Hallie has apparently been storing it for her, took Hallie up on her offer of a glass of wine, and has stayed for three. Glasses, not hours.

“Nope.”