Midnight Run

Chapter Six

Kingston had to fight the urge to check over his shoulder during the run; the new girl reminded him of the pretty barista he still hadn't worked up the nerve to really talk to. Well, except for her hair, he thought, trying to match his strides to his breathing as the group made their first loop of the park. And the glasses. He shook his head. "You're just so hung up on her that you're imagining things," he muttered under his breath, struggling to draw his attention back to the run.

Still, his thoughts were scattered, and by the time the group had finished for the night, Kingston was already back to his apartment building when he realized that he hadn't said good night to Lynne. All the runners had made him feel welcome, but Lynne had kind of taken him under her wing when he showed up the first time, and he liked the older woman quite a lot. She reminded him of his sister for some reason, and Kingston kicked himself for being unintentionally rude to the woman that night.

Feeling the need to make amends somehow, he dialed his sister's number as he kicked off his running shoes. Thanks to the time difference, the hour back home was only moderately awful, as opposed to the ungodly number blinking on the clock in his kitchen. Maybe calling Raye will give me a cosmic pass for being an ass to Lynne tonight, he thought as he grabbed a glass of water and sat down on the barstool in the corner of the kitchen.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Rachel answered the phone with her customary bluntness, and Kingston chuckled.

"What did I do now, Raye?"

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "Did you even bother to check the clock before you called?"

"It's only midnight there; you can't be ready for bed yet."

"Fool. It just so happens I've got an interview tomorrow, and I was trying to get some sleep."

Feeling instantly contrite, Kingston apologized, but she brushed him off.

"I'm up now. So what's going on?"

"I just wanted to chat," he offered, realizing for the first time that that was a pretty lame excuse for calling so late. "I mean...I miss y'all."

Rachel softened. "We miss you, too. The boys especially."

Kingston had always had a soft spot for his nephews, and he grinned. "How are they both?"

"With their dad this week." He could practically hear her shrug. "So who knows."

"Be fair, Raye. You know he loves them."

"Yes," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean I have to like this whole mess."

He wished he could reach across the miles and give his big sister a hug. "You doing okay?"

"Oh, I'm peachy. Nothing like a trial separation to really liven things up."

Kingston sighed. "It'll work out. However it's supposed to."

"That's pretty crappy advice."

"What do you want me to say? That love's a fairy tale?" The line was silent for a moment, and Kingston took another swallow of water, feeling like an ass. "Sorry, Raye."

"No, you're right," she said softly. "But this fairy tale sure seemed like it was going to last."

Kingston didn't know what to say. Rachel and her husband had been married for seven years, long enough to have two charming boys, buy a big house, and rescue a pair of greyhounds, but then his sister showed up for Christmas dinner without her husband, and all she'd said was that they were separated. He hadn't been able to get any more information from her than that, despite the fact that he kept fishing. "Do you want to talk—"

"Are you going to ask me about the interview?"

Kingston shook his head. "Sure. What's the job?"

"Managing editor for the Daily Sun."

His face broke into a wide smile. "Raye, that's perfect!"

"It's been a long time since I've used that journalism degree," she said. "I just hope I'm not too rusty."

"You'll blow them away. Call me tomorrow to let me know how it goes?"

"You mean today, right?"

Kingston glanced at the clock and laughed. "Right, today."

"Will do. But seriously, you jerk, I really should get some shut eye." She paused. "Everything's seriously okay with you?"

For a moment, he almost told her about the girl at the coffee shop and her sporty doppelgänger, but he decided against it. What is there to tell? I don't even know either of their names! "Seriously okay and nothing to report."

"Then go to sleep, you loon."

He laughed softly. "Love you, hon."

"Love you, too."

When he hung up the phone, he didn't go to bed immediately. Instead, Kingston grabbed a beer from the fridge and sank back onto the barstool, thinking about his sister and her failing marriage. There's nothing I can do, he reminded himself, twirling his phone absentmindedly on the counter. But that doesn't make it easy to watch.

Promising himself that he'd make a point to call his nephews and Rachel more, Kingston finished off his beer and finally headed to bed, his thoughts as heavy as his limbs.