his intense allergies, his stressed immune system... “Of course we’ll play the cold card here. And if you get another chance on that bike or any bike, let’s decide here and now that you’re not going to check it for maximum speed. Can we agree to that?”
“That bike is so slick, Mom. No wonder it cost a billion dollars!”
Lin Su sat on the edge of his bed. “Charlie, your health has been good lately. Keep it so. Build up some stamina, get strong, live long. Use that remarkable brain of yours to get ahead and buy a dozen billion-dollar bicycles when you’ve overcome the worst of this. But go slow.”
He grinned. “You just want me to live a long time so you have some rich guy to take care of you in your old age.”
“I’m counting on it,” she said. “I’ll text and call. Try to take it easy today. I’m sure by tomorrow you’ll be fine.”
This was the lot of a single mother—making a choice between her job, which was vital, and her sick child, the core of her being. If he were younger than fourteen she might have asked one of the elderly neighbors to watch him or at least check on him, but at fourteen Charlie would be offended. Hell, at eleven he was offended! He knew the rules, he was responsible. Still...she wanted to be near...
* * *
Blake suited up for his swim, grateful that the sun was shining brightly on the bay even though it was early, mindful of the fact that the water was still going to be freezing cold. He put in his hour and was surprised Charlie wasn’t waiting on the steps for him to get out of the water. It briefly crossed his mind that his mother was keeping him away from Blake, the troublemaker with the tempting bike.
He had planned a long run for today but he switched out his plan—he took the bike on a long ride instead. The riding speed was going to be crucial in the upcoming race. When he got back, there was still no sign of Charlie and there was no one out on the deck at Winnie’s house. Not even Winnie and her nurse.
Lin Su. The first time he saw her he had actually felt his breath catch. All he could see of her was that she was small, wore scrubs and had black hair twisted into some kind of bun. She had laughed with Winnie and Grace, and even though it was at some distance he could see she was beautiful.
Lin Su was intriguing and now, unfortunately, she appeared to be a little angry with him. He wouldn’t necessarily do things differently with Charlie and the bike. He might’ve asked him if it would be all right with his mother or, had he known about the asthma, he might’ve suggested he go easy. Then again, he might not. Blake was no expert, but boys that age needed to find their own limits.
Charlie was nowhere in sight.
By the time Blake had showered and put on clean clothes, there were people on Winnie’s deck. Troy and Mikhail and Winnie were sitting at the outside table. He went downstairs inside his own house, out through the patio doors of his lower level and next door to walk up the outside stairs to Winnie’s deck.
“Incoming,” he hollered, walking up the last few steps.
“Hey, man,” Troy said, standing. “Come on up. How’s it going?”
“Good. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
“We’re just getting ready to wax Winnie in bridge,” Troy said. “Bridge because she won’t play poker.”
“You’re not at school today?” Blake asked Troy.
“I was there this morning and will help Grace at the shop this afternoon. Not much more summer left. You play bridge?”
“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “I was wondering about Charlie. I think this is the first day since I moved in that I haven’t seen him hanging around.”
At that moment Lin Su came onto the deck with a tray of drinks—two cups of tea and two tall glasses of something. One of the cups had a straw in it for Winnie. “He stayed home today,” she said in answer to the question. “He might be coming down with a cold and we’re diligent about keeping germs out of here when we can for Winnie’s sake.”
“It took a lot more than a cold to take me down,” Winnie said.
“A cold wouldn’t help you, however. Can I get you something to drink, Blake?” she asked.
He was ridiculously pleased that she used his first name. He could feel his smile grow to an almost silly width. “No, thank you. I just finished a ride. I hope that cold wasn’t because...you know...”
She put the tray on the table. “He’s had a good summer. An asthma episode can’t bring on a cold but a cold can weaken his resistance to asthma. He seems to be fine—just some congestion and a cough.” She pulled up a chair for Blake and then took one herself, passing out the drinks. “Exercise-induced asthma is probably to be expected since he has a history, but I’ll tell you what’s frightening—when a big attack comes on for no apparent reason. That hasn’t happened in a long time.” She took a sip of her tea. “I’ll leave him home till he’s completely over it.”
“I apologize if the bike brought it on. I had no idea...”
“Of course you didn’t,” Winnie said. “Charlie should have mentioned it. I suspect he wanted to get on that bike so badly he wouldn’t dare risk it. He’s been lusting after your bike since he first laid eyes on it.”
“That’s the worst thing about being fourteen,” Blake said. “Doing all the things you’re supposed to do.”
“I’ll be happy if he learned something. He can have a completely normal life as long as he’s careful.”
And listens to his mother, Blake thought. There were some teenage boys to whom that was a luxury. They couldn’t always be careful.
“Will you promise to stay if we deal?” Winnie asked Blake.
“If I’m not imposing,” he said.
“Not at all. I enjoy having you drop by. By the way, when is the next big race?”
“Three weeks, in Tahoe. I’ll go a week early to train in the mountains there, to get acclimated. My trainer will come here first. We’ll do a trial run, then go to Tahoe together to get ready.”
“Where is your trainer now?” Troy asked.
“She’s in Boulder, her home base. She’s an exercise physiologist. Well, she’s a PhD in physiology, not an ordinary trainer. She’s a partner in an athletic training facility and I’m not the only client by a long shot. Sometimes she’ll send a colleague. Babysitter, that’s all—I have my own degree and have been doing this for a long time. But there’s no substitute for a trainer who challenges the protocol, pushes at the edges of the envelope and generally provides data on the competition that can be useful. She’s a little bit like a manager—sending me daily reports on the results of events from all over the world and making recommendations based on training studies.”
It was quiet around the bridge table. “Sounds a lot more complicated than I thought,” Lin Su said.
“Is complicated,” Mikhail said. “Grace was my full-time job for nine years. You have this trainer part-time?” he asked Blake.
“Yeah,”
