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Brock seemed different here—more at ease. He placed his hand over mine, which tightly held his bicep. “Let’s take this path.” He maneuvered us toward the left. “I want to show you where we had rowing practice.”
I loved hearing the excitement in his voice. “What big regatta did you take first place in again?” Over the years, Brock and Brant had always bragged about it, but I could never remember the name.
His eyes lit up. “The Stotesbury Cup Regatta. It’s the world’s oldest and one of the largest high school rowing competitions.”
Brock was so excited he picked up the pace, making his visitor badge bounce against his button-up as we followed the path down toward the river. The closer we got, the more I could smell the musty, earthy scent of the water.
Brock stopped, took in a deep breath of it, and closed his eyes. “Do you smell that? Our coach used to say it’s the smell of camaraderie and victory.”
“Is that what that smells like?” I teased.
Brock smiled at me, hitting me full force with his powers. “Do you doubt me?”
“Can you prove it?”
“Come with me.” He took my hand, and we dashed toward the river. There we found two crews getting ready to enter the water. Brock informed me the boats were called shells. He helped me settle on the grassy bank before sitting next to me. The wind near the river picked up and blew through my hair, making me feel more alive and connected to the scene in front of us.
Brock looked longingly at the young athletes. “Everyone has to work together to balance the shell. You must be one with your team and the shell. Timing is everything. Even if someone doesn’t have a good ergometer time, if they have good technique and can stay in sync with the crew, they will be a valuable asset. Much more than someone who is faster but erratic. Rowing is the ultimate team sport,” he spoke so reverently.
I thought about how he and Brant had been on the same rowing team and how much that had meant to him. How if it hadn’t been for Brock, I wouldn’t have Children to Love. I had the passion, but it was his connections and business know-how that had made it happen. Together, I felt like we could accomplish anything. “Being a team is important to you.”
He picked some of the grass and nodded.
“How do we become a team again? I want to be in sync with you.”
He lay back against the cool grass, his hands behind his head, staring at the marshmallow clouds lazily drifting in the sky.
I lay back, too, and stared up, patiently waiting for his reply.
“Dani.” He reached down and clasped my hand. “When you’re rowing, you have clear direction. You know exactly what your goal is and how important it is to stay on course and deviate as little as you can from center. It’s also important not to make an adjustment after every stroke. Doing so can make you lose valuable time.”
“What does that have to do with us?”
His head slowly turned, and mine did the same until our eyes locked. Until I could see the specks of violet in his baby blues.
He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “All my life, I’ve always been able to see each goal I’d set for myself and the clearest path for how to get there. Except when it came to you. With you I’ve zigzagged all over the place, not sure where we would end up. I never pictured it like this, though.”
“Why did you agree to it, then?” my voice cracked.
“Because when I was in Afghanistan and I thought I was going to die, my only regret in life was that I hadn’t made the adjustments I could have, should have, to include you in my plan. You were right when you said I had put my career and country first. I made selfish choices, without considering your feelings. Because of that, we not only lost time but . . .”
“Everything,” I whispered.
He ran a finger down my cheek, leaving a trail of heat. “I hope not.”
“I hope not either.”
“You know? I’ve known crews who have never won a competition all season, but when the conference championship came around, they ended up besting everyone.”
“How is that possible?”
“Because sometimes it takes a while to come together as a team. To trust each other. To become one with each other.”
I turned more toward him and tugged on his shirt. “So, what you’re saying is, it doesn’t matter how many times we lose, eventually we’ll figure it out?”
He gently swiped my bangs. “That’s the end goal I see.”
A warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the noonday sun beating down upon us. Hope like never before filled my veins. “Let’s get to rowing, then.”
