“Actually, yeah,” said Steve, distracted by her touch. “Though I’d like to have some choice about it, at least take a day off here and there.”

“Well, the world, that horrible world you live in, is the same world that’s made it possible for you to run everywhere and manage to survive doing what it is you do. Have you asked yourself why you can’t see the good that lets that happen along with the bad? That there’s still a balance? Sure, you have to push against what’s wrong in the big picture, but you also have to stop and enjoy the small picture, which isn’t always bad, right?” Eleanor squeezed Steve’s hand, then let go. “You seem to think that you’re responsible for doing something about all the problems of the world. What a silly man.”

Steve raised an eyebrow in acquiescence and smiled back. None of this was new to him, but when Eleanor said it, it felt different.

When dinner ended, Steve and Eleanor hugged and said good-bye. Steve thought about asking for her phone number, but the pressure he felt to run dissuaded him, and regretfully he headed back out on the road.

Still, in the long, empty stretches between his contacts with others, Eleanor kept popping back into Steve’s thoughts. Three weeks later, he gave in and wrote the CVR events coordinator to say he would be back in Montpelier for another run.

When he arrived that Tuesday, Eleanor was in the group waiting at the start of the run. Suddenly Steve felt both hopeful and awkward, like a teenage boy on a skateboard peering from the deck of a half-pipe for the first time. He walked around greeting people he knew, stalling, but by the start of the run he was next to Eleanor.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” she replied happily. Steve relaxed, the run began, and soon they were chattering comfortably, undisturbed by passing miles or passing runners.

Steve quieted as they approached the parking lot where the run ended. Eleanor noticed and asked if something was wrong. “Not really,” said Steve. “I just wish that sometimes I could stay in one place for longer than a meal or a quick chat.”

“Well, you never know. The world might be a bad place, but in spite of everything it brought us here tonight. Right here, right now isn’t too bad, is it?”

“T’m not sure I want to count on the world to make this happen.” Steve teetered on the coping of the pipe, then leapt. “If I come back in a week or two, do you want to go for a run?”

Eleanor stopped and looked at Steve for a moment. When she grinned, it was like he’d hit a backside 180 for the first time. ““Why not? We can take fate into our own hands for a change.”

Before long, Steve found that he was staying in the northeast and planning routes that let him get back to Montpelier every week or so to meet Eleanor for a run. Steve loved how nothing ever fazed her. He found that he could disagree

with her without having it turn into an argument. Whatever the subject, she could always put a positive spin on it.

Eleanor, in turn, was charmed by Steve’s naive desire to fix everything. He badly wanted to help, but he was overwhelmed by all the problems he saw, unable to focus on any one of them, an Albert Schweitzer with ADHD. She was serenely confident that one day Steve would learn to focus and make better use of some of the energy he spent on running, and she hoped to be around when he did.

Late in August, after another evening run that ended at Eleanor’s house, Steve hugged Eleanor and was set to say good-bye when she gave him another one of those looks. She asked if he wanted to come in.

Steve wanted to, very much. But he wasn’t sure whether it was the right thing to do. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked. “Soon it’II be fall. When it gets colder, I’ll be heading back south and I won’t see you anymore, for months at least. It’s not fair to ask you to wait for me. And even if we do get back together, we can’t really be together since I always have to get up and go.”

“You still worry too much,” said Eleanor. “I’m enjoying your company now, and if you stop coming back when winter comes, well, I’ve been dumped before. I don’t let it keep me from hoping and enjoying the good moments when they occur.

“Look, it’s late, I have to work in the morning, and I’m tired. Why don’t you come in? I need a shower, and you could use one too, road boy. Then I’m going to bed. You can lay down with me and keep me company for a few minutes while I fall asleep. Leave whenever you have to; I’ll be fine.”

Steve followed Eleanor into the house. They showered, had a snack, and then went into Eleanor’s bedroom. She set her alarm for 5:30, and then they got under the sheets. Eleanor kissed Steve goodnight, then curled up on her side. “Hold me, Steve.” He did. “Mmm. That’s nice. G’night.”

Steve lay there, with Eleanor warm in his arms. Soon her breathing deepened, and he could feel her relax into a deep sleep. It felt right to start breathing along with her, trying to get just a little closer before he had to leave. He shifted until he could feel her heart beating slowly against his forearm. Just another minute or two; then I’ll have to get up and leave, Steve thought. He took in a deep breath, inhaling her scent, then released it and shifted slightly.

“BRRRRING! BRRRRING!”

Steve sat up abruptly. What was that? Why was it light all of a sudden?

Next to him Eleanor stirred and stretched an arm toward the nightstand. The sound stopped. She looked up at Steve and said, “Oh, good, you’ re still here. Give me a kiss and then I’ll get up and make some coffee.”

Steve realized what had happened. “I slept,” he muttered, slightly dazed.

“Yes, you did,” said Eleanor. “Did you know you snore? Now kiss me, and let’s get going. It’s time to start another day.” POF