After the Finish Line

Jen's heart pounded as her footfalls slapped loudly on the dark, hot pavement. What had begun as exciting, turned challenging and was now verging on painful. Why was she doing this to herself? If she could just keep this up for another ninety seconds she would cross the finish line, put the race behind her and start to relax.

It took every ounce of willpower not to glance at her watch, primarily to check her time but also to see what her heart rate was currently pounding away at. Her chest felt tight, and she tried to ignore the dull pain near her left breast.

Leaning into the final corner, striding hard brought her within sight of her goal. The finish line was a bright blue and white banner strung between two inflatable black columns. Food trucks and tents lined the left side of a small park in the sleepy downtown. A few runners who had completed the 10k were walking or stretching on the lawn in front of the large brick library while spectators formed lines on either side of the finish line cheering and calling encouragement.

Jen bore down and bit her lip firmly, praying her throbbing legs would carry her these last excruciating feet.

With a final surge she was past the crowds, under the banner and across the finish line. As badly as her body wanted to stop and sprawl in the cool grass of the park she forced herself to keep moving forward, taking long strides to prevent her nearly exhausted muscles from cramping up.

She had started running again two years before. After Michelle had begged her to join her on a weekly early morning jog around the lake. They had been neighbors for two years and after her husband's knee surgery, which put an end to his running career, had kindly asked Jen to join her most mornings. After finally giving in Jen found she enjoyed the routine and the exertion, the training sessions gave her time to quiet her mind and narrowed her focus to her breathing and how her body felt during the 3 mile loops of the lake.

She had been a reluctant athlete in high school. The frantic pace of life, and "good genes" as her mother called them keeping her trim through her 20s and 30s. With her fortieth birthday rapidly approaching she had noticed, slowly, how her clothing had begun fitting a little bit less comfortably and how when walking past a mirror she was often surprised by the person looking back.

After 6 months of running together Michelle had pulled back, her free time whittled to zero as her two girls started school and she was called upon to coordinate the flood of after-school activities and events. Jen worried her own training would suffer a similar fate but Tom had been amazing, pitching in to help with the kids, allowing her to carve out the time she so desperately needed for herself.

The mental benefits of running had been amazing, but it was impossible to be unaware of the physical impact it was having. She worried less about how her clothes hugged her body and had recently purchased a few new outfits to better fit her new figure. Her hips and thighs felt as trim and toned as ever and she still marveled at the taunt, flat stomach she saw in the mirror. Tom had noticed the changes as well, the increased consistency of their "evening workouts" in bed was doing wonders for their relationship.

All these thoughts swirled through her mind as she put her hands on her hips and strode over the high curb into the thick grass of the park. Circling a large drooping willow tree, surrounded by runners and their families enjoying plates of BBQ and short plastic cups of beer from one of the many trucks. Jen walked back towards the finish line watching the steady drip of runners making their way to the end.

She shook her head and groaned, lifting her wrist to click off the timer she had set as she crossed the starting line. The digits flashed 26:15. How long had she been cooling down, lost in thought? Praying it was longer than it seemed and her goal of completing the race in under 25mins had been achieved she moved around slower participants drifting back towards the party atmosphere at the finish. As she moved to slide around two girls walking side by side while looking down at their phones she collided with a solid mass.

"Oh!", she grunted, before feeling a firm hand grasp her wrist while another grazed her back. "Shit...sorry!", the tall man said, his eyes wide with surprise or concern that he had injured her.

"Its fine...I wasn't really looking where I was going." She smiled, quickly noticing how muscular and defined his tanned arms looked. She realized now, standing close to him she needed to lift her neck to see his face. He was very fit, the bright smile on his face and easy breathing showing he was practiced at finishing races at or under the time she had been killing herself for.

"I should have been watching," she noticed his eyes glide down her body before snapping back up to her face, "I had my mind on a beer and some food", he grinned again. Jen felt the heat of a blush on her face. Hoping he thought it was exercise driven rather than shy embarrassment. "I'm Ben", he offered his large hand, his smile was wide and easy.

"Jen..", she replied softly. Not quite sure herself if it was from the run or the rush of feelings rolling through her.

A thought crossed her mind which she quickly pushed away. One of the best feelings after a difficult run were the endorphins. Her mind unconsciously replayed a number of times Tom had joined her in the shower or the old couch in his cluttered office after she had completed a particularly grueling training session.

"It does seem like quite a selection" she offered, nodding at the assembled trucks and tents. She and Ben had fallen into step somehow and were walking into the crowd of runners and spectators, past a tent selling hats and shirts embroidered with the name of the small town on a backdrop of the picturesque river that wound through the sleepy center. The outline of a runner was striding over the letters placed like rocks in the flowing water.

"Can I get you a drink? I did nearly end your racing career just now!" Jen gave a small smile, crowds had never been her favorite and she was suddenly aware of the mass of people they were moving through, the added noise and bracketing food trucks adding to the oppressiveness. Ben seemed relaxed, and she found herself drawn to him, the easy way he strode though the crown, the bright smile he wore so easily.

Pausing in a small gap between two groups, one lining up for food from a noodle truck while the other waited to replace the calories sweated off in the race with

"Sweet Maggie Moos Ice Cream", Jen shook her head, "I really need to get on the road, I wasn't planning on sticking around after finishing the race." She tugged at the race number safety pinned to her now sweaty gray running top, "Besides, we all got two free drink tickets when we registered this morning." She grinned, trying to match his carefree manner.

He rolled his eyes, "Well that's true. But, I happen to know the owner of one of these", Ben reached down, the muscles around his shoulder smoothly moving under his tanned skin. He took her hand, so carefree, as if it were something he did everyday. Jen again felt off balance as he guided her between two vans, one selling tacos and the other some type of coffee smoothie, up to the side of a gleaming white van. The back doors held open by two gray beer kegs their sides covered in shimmering condensation.

"Ben!", a skinny tanned girl, wearing ripped jeans and a stained white t-shirt, squealed. Throwing her arms around his thick muscular trunk. Jen barely had time to pull her hand free before the two embraced. "How was the course? Did the elder berry infusion help??", the girl beamed, her bright blue eyes open wide, gazing up as she awaited an answer. Ben laughed, breaking the embrace before reaching out and gently tussling the wavy blond hair of the girl.

Jen felt a stab of emotion seeing the easy manner Ben had with this girl so soon after taking her hand. Jealousy? She immediately realized how silly that was, but knowing a thing doesn't make it any less real.

"Kara, this is Jen. I nearly ran her over at the finish and now you owe her a drink." Ben smiled back at Jen before leaning his toned upper body inside the van and pulling out two large, insulated mugs.

Kara grabbed the mugs from Ben and rolled her eyes in Jen's direction, "I'm sorry about my brother. Let me fill these before he negatively impacts a whole crowd of people with his terrible keg tapping abilities." She swung her lithe body between the two open doors and into the van before Jen could respond.

Ben grinned, already filling a small plastic cup that seemingly appeared from out of nowhere, from one of the stout kegs. He let the dark amber beer ooze about halfway up before lifting his thumb and letting the short black hose snake back over the keg. Bringing the cup to his lips he steadily consumed the drink just as the doors of the van rattled and the girl emerged balancing the two large mugs. Her eyes caught the quick movement of Ben's hand as he tried to hide the now empty cup behind his back.

"Seriously? It took me less than a minute to fill these...", she glared exasperatedly at Ben before smiling and pivoting towards Jen.

Handing her one of the mugs Jen realized how large they were, "Here you go, I figured you would enjoy the summer wheat."

"And for me?", Ben leaned between them wearing a smirk.

"For the thief, I poured one of the new IPAs", Kara unsuccessfully attempting to slip back into her annoyed mode as she spoke to her brother.

"I need to run back and grab some more boxes of shirts, I told you the new design would sell!". Kara started to move along the side of the van, lifting her arm and waving behind her as she did, "Nice to meet you!". She slipped to the left and was soon lost in the crowd moving through the festive atmosphere.

Jen watched Kara disappear, the mug cool and sweating in her palm, as the music from a nearby tent drifted over the soft clamor of voices and laughter. She took a tentative sip--preferring wine to beer. The summer wheat was bright and citrusy, the cool liquid feeling great after the exertion of the race. Ben leaned against the van, his eyes following his sister for a moment before settling on Jen, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

"She's a force of nature," he said, nodding toward the path Kara had vanished down. "I swear she's been organizing the van and preparing for this event since dawn."

Jen smiled, "She certainly does have a lot of energy". Her mind drifting back to the frantic pace of her own experiences in her early 20s. No kids or responsibilities, most days adventurous overlaid with the anxiety of finding your way.

Ben grinned, tipping his mug toward her in a toast. "To not getting run over at the finish line."

Jen knocked her mug against his, foam sloshing over the edge. "And to free drinks, apparently."

He raised a brow, feigning indignation. "You earned it. Anyone who survives my clumsiness deserves a medal--or at least a cold craft beer."

The noise around them swelled, Jen felt herself relax, the burning in her legs replaced by a pleasant feeling of looseness. Her breathing easy and free after the exertion of the race and the overwhelming feeling of the crowds.

It looked like her plan of jumping in the car and driving to the lake as soon as she completed the race was going to be edited a bit.

She took another sip of the refreshing beer, "I really can't drink this whole thing. I promised I'd get going as soon as the race ended."

Ben frowned, "Get going? Where else can you enjoy a beer at 11:00am without judgement?".

Jen shrugged, on the verge of telling him how she'd promised her husband and kids she would see them at the Lakehouse as soon as she wrapped up the race.

She smiled, hoping he did not sense her hesitation, "I'm going a little further up Route 49, there is a beautiful lake and I rented a place for the week."

Ben took another deep sip from his mug, frothy bubbles clung to the stubble above his lip, "That sounds great, but wouldn't it be a nicer ride if you relaxed a bit before jumping back in the car?" His tone playful, Jen glanced at her feet, shivering slightly as her exposed arms and neck suddenly felt cool.

Neither spoke, the sounds of the crowd filling the space between them. Jen took another sip, a small one this time, reminding herself she had an hour drive ahead of her.

"I have a plan". Ben said again taking her hand, this time starting to lead her towards the large parking lot behind the old brick library building. "Why don't we go back to my place, we can finish our drinks and you can take a shower before driving to the lake." He tugged at the front of her gray running tank top playfully,

"Nobody likes driving in wet gear".

Jen hesitated, the suggestion hanging in the air between them. She caught herself glancing at her phone, the screen still dark in her palm--a silent reminder of the promises she had made, obligations to her life. But Ben's eyes were earnest, his laughter echoing with the promise of an uncomplicated morning, a brief detour before routine reclaimed her.

"One drink and a shower," she bargained, her voice light, not quite trusting herself to refuse or accept completely. "I just need to grab my things from the car."

Ben grinned, triumphant, "Great!" Pointing past the lot towards a small baseball field and playground sandwiched between the library and the road, "See the blue house? That's me." Jen felt his hand slip out of hers before confidently sliding along her lower back and resting on her hip, his arm holding her close as they walked away from the crowd.

The morning sun was warming the pavement, though an unseasonable New England summer breeze teased the edges of her damp tank top as she popped open the trunk. From the back seat she pulled a loosely rolled towel and a small canvas bag--faded blue, handles fraying--a wrinkled t-shirt peeking out the top, an outfit she had planned to slip into before getting behind the wheel and driving to Tom and the kids.

"Here, let me", Ben looped his hand through the faded straps of the bag as Jen closed the door. They resumed walking and were halfway through the park before she realized she was leaning into him.

----

She had no sense of the size of the house when Ben had pointed from across the lot. Walking up the wide porch steps now, Jen gazed at the large windows lining the front and the intricate detail of the heavy wood door.

Ben pushed open the wide front door of the colonial-style New England home, its brass handle cool and solid in his hand. The heavy wood swung inward to reveal a spacious foyer with polished hardwood floors and a sweeping staircase that marched elegantly upward.

Jen stepped in behind him, pausing just past the threshold. Her eyes lifted immediately to the high ceiling, the numerous pictures catching the light and scattering it across the pale walls. She let out a quiet breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Wow," she murmured, her voice soft with surprise. The house had the kind of presence that spoke of history and care--a blend of tradition and refinement. The crown molding, the antique sideboard against the wall, even the muted runner along the stairs--all of it fit together seamlessly.

Ben shrugged a little, almost bashful. "It's just home," he said, but his grin gave away his pleasure at her reaction.

Jen's gaze lingered on the framed paintings lining the hallway, the warm tones of the furniture, the sense of quiet luxury that was neither ostentatious nor cold. She turned back to him, conscious of the shock on her face. "Ben... this place is beautiful."

"Thanks," he said, his tone both casual and a little shy. "I'm glad you like it. My family's had the house for years. Honestly, I got lucky."

Jen turned back toward him, eyebrows lifting slightly. "Lucky?"

He slipped his hands into his pockets, glancing past her toward the tall windows where sunlight spilled in over the deep red rug. "Yeah. My family's pretty established here--they own a handful of businesses in town. Hardware store, a couple rental properties, some small stuff that's been in the family forever." He gave a modest shrug, as if brushing past the weight of legacy.

Her eyes softened with interest. "And this," she said, nodding toward the house, "is part of all that?"

Ben chuckled. "Sort of. I moved back after grad school, didn't think I'd stay, honestly. But then I opened the brewery. Right timing, right spot. People around here wanted something local, and it took off faster than I expected. Having my family's support... well, it made it easier."

Ben gestured toward the hallway that branched off from the intimate entryway.

"Come on, I'll show you where you can get out of those sweaty running clothes," he said, motioning for Jen to follow.

They padded across the hardwood, their sneakers leaving faint squeaks on the polished floor. The coolness of the house was a sharp contrast to the building heat outside, and Jen could still feel the damp cling of her running top and dark shorts against her skin. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious about walking through such an elegant home in her sweaty clothes.

Ben seemed unconcerned. "It's down here," he said, leading her past a row of framed photos, sports teams and groups of people smiling and laughing, many taken outside and one she recognized as the porch she had just walked past.

He stopped in front of a tall white door with a paneled frame and turned the brass knob. The door swung open to reveal a guest bathroom larger than Jen expected, more the size of a decent bedroom. Sunlight filtered in through frosted glass windows, lighting up the gleaming marble tile and wide double vanity. A soaking tub sat to one side, opposite a glass-walled shower with brushed nickel fixtures.

Jen blinked, a laugh slipping out despite herself. "This is your guest bathroom?"

Ben grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Yeah. The designer I hired to update the kitchen insisted on remodeling it a few years ago. Figured anyone staying over shouldn't feel cramped." He gave a little shrug, as though he hadn't really thought about it until now.

Jen stepped inside, letting her fingers brush along the smooth counter. "This is nicer than some apartments I've had."

Ben's smile lingered, his eyes following her. "Well, it's all yours. Least I could do after nearly running you over at the finish."

Jen felt his eyes on her as she took a few small steps into the truly large bathroom.

Jen turned to him, still taking in the size of the bathroom.

He laughed softly, tilting his head toward the kitchen, he added, "I'll grab you a fresh beer for when you're done. You've earned it after that run."

Her lips curved into a smile, the thought of another chilled beer sounding suddenly very good. "That actually sounds perfect."

Ben's grin widened. "I've got a few of the new summer batch chilling in the fridge--citrusy, light, you'll love it."

Jen chuckled, shaking her head. "You're spoiling me."

Flirting? She felt herself blushing again, was that what she was doing? She had to get on the road, Tom and the kids were expecting her. Even with that thought in her mind the idea of prolonging this afternoon with Ben tugged at her powerfully.

"Just good hospitality," he replied, stepping back into the hall. "Towels are in the cabinet by the sink. Take your time. I'll have the beer waiting when you come out."

She watched him go, the faint sound of his footsteps fading toward the kitchen, and for a moment she let herself relax into the quiet luxury of the space--both impressed and unexpectedly at ease.

Jen closed the door gently behind her, the soft click sounding louder in the stillness of the oversized bathroom. She leaned against the cool marble counter for a moment, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed from the run, strands of damp hair clinging to her forehead, but it wasn't just the 10K that had her heart racing.