Page 35 of The Mayor and the Mystery Man

“No.”

* * *

I was right.Running sucked.

Pain edged up my legs and knees like bags of cement wedged under my quads. Muscles that I thought I used on a daily basis came to life, yelling at me for not stretching enough.

But Leo was also right. The view was glorious. The pre-sunrise light shaded our surroundings in a dark blue glow. We jogged down Maple Street, the town's main drag, which was empty and quiet, a sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle that would come in a few hours. In Venice Beach, there was always something going on. I didn’t get to experience this kind of peace, and the quiet stirred thoughts in my mind, some of which I didn’t want to think about. As we kept running, the thick cluster of businesses and buildings disappeared into spread-out houses, then nothing at all. We took a sharp turn into the woods, running through a vibrant palette of fall foliage that came more into view as the sun rose.

Somewhere in the middle of our run, my body began to acclimate and find niblets of pleasure. Oxygen filled my lungs, and the soreness in my legs morphed into power. Our path got steeper as we charged up a hill, but I kept up.

Leo slowed down as the trees cleared to a bench and railing. He faced me, practically giddy.

“Are we taking a break?” I asked sarcastically, though I was grateful for the rest.

“Here’s that view I was talking about.” Leo nodded for me to follow him to the railing.

And there it was.

“Oh, shit.” My mouth hung open. It was the only appropriate response to the tableau in front of me.

We were high enough to overlook Sourwood with the Hudson River and mountains in the distance. Sourwood was a pocket of civilization against the mighty water, dotted by shimmering golds and maroons of foliage. All those people down there…did they know they were living in paradise? I was looking at a painting, right? Or a heavily doctored photo that had been posted to someone’s Instagram page. I had to be.

“What do you think?” Leo asked. “Worth all the fucking exercise?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, still catching my breath.

Leo leaned against the railing, gazing out mesmerized. He looked at this every morning and continued to be blown away.

“This is gorgeous,” I said.

“It’s beautiful now with all the leaves. And in the winter, it’s blanketed with snow and reflecting people’s Christmas lights.”

“Amazing.”

“It doesn’t get old. I can’t believe I get to live here and I get to lead this town. I’m the luckiest schmuck on earth.”

“Now I see why you’ve lived here your whole life.”

He nodded. I had an unexpected surge of jealousy hit me. I wish I were one of those people who could find a home like this and spend my life there. I hated my hometown. Central California was arid, boring, and a good ten years behind the rest of the state. As an adult, I bopped around different cities as a direct reaction to my hatred of where I grew up. That’s what most of us did. We ran to big cities or new countries or into the country. Running, escaping, making a new life to forget the old one. But Leo stayed. He didn’t run from anything.

“Come over here.” He nudged his head for me to get closer. Out of his pocket, he handed over a small pair of binoculars.

“What are you doing with these?”

He rolled his eyes at any insinuation. “Giving you a special bird’s eye view tour.”

I looked through the binoculars, Sourwood up close. Leo stood behind and positioned me just so, like an astronomer lining up his telescope. I became very aware of his hands on my hips and found myself catching my breath in a whole new way.

“Do you see that small house at the corner with the pale blue shutters?”

“I do.” It was on the older and smaller side and could use some upkeep.

“That’s the house where I grew up. I painted those shutters when I was fourteen. My mom had wanted to go with yellow, but I convinced her to do blue.”

“Good choice.” I imagined Leo on a ladder in the hot summer sun, getting the shutters the perfect shade of blue to prove himself right.

“I offered to repaint them for the couple who moved in. I think they’re planning some major renovations.” There was a resignation in his voice, an acknowledgment that life moves on.

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