Page 110 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
We looked at each other again. This time, Christian waited for me to answer.
“Swim,” I said.
“Number two answer! Twenty-seven points!”
By the end of the game, we’d won by forty points.
“That’s not natural,” Uncle Charles declared, shaking his head. “Y’all got some kind of telepathy thing going on.”
“We just think alike, it seems,” I said, but even I was a little amazed at how well we’d worked together.
“It seems?” Ebony laughed. “You answered every single question like you’d discussed it beforehand.”
We settled into lawn chairs as the afternoon wore on, everyone full of food and exhausted from competition. The kids were still running around, but most of the adults were content to sit in the shade and digest their food.
“So,” my Aunt Serena said to Christian. “What kind of hobbies do you have?”
“I run mostly. I cycle when I have time.”
“Running’s good exercise,” my father said approvingly. “I used to run five miles every morning before my deployment.”
“I’m actually training for a marathon right now. The St. Louis Stretch in two weeks.”
I nearly choked on my iced tea. “You’re doing the St. Louis Stretch?”
“Yes, why?”
“That’s the marathon I’m cycling for. I’ve been training for it three days a week.”
Christian stared at me. “You’re doing the St. Louis Stretch, too?”
“The cycling portion, yeah.”
The whole family went quiet, everyone looking back and forth between us like we’d just revealed we were secret agents.
“Wait,” Patrice said slowly. “You’re both doing the same marathon? And you didn’t know?”
“We never talked about a marathon,” I said, my mind racing. “I just thought running was his morning routine.”
“I thought the same about your cycling,” he said.
“What are the odds of that?” Ebony asked.
“Pretty slim,” Christian said, still looking at me with amazement. “What charity are you riding for?”
“Veterans’ assistance. Funding for adaptive equipment.” I gestured toward my father. “What about you?”
“Veterans’ assistance. Specifically, adaptive equipment funding.”
The silence stretched even longer this time.
“Okay, that’s just weird,” Devon said.
“It’s not weird,” my mother said firmly. “It’s meant to be.”
I gave her a look.
“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice,” she said. “You two have been doing the same thing, for the same cause, at the same time, without even knowing it. That’s not a coincidence. That’s the universe aligning things, honey.”
