Page 77 of The Last Five Yards

Out on the water, the waves roll in soft and slow, and Maren can see the line of white starting to form where the water stops and becomes ice.

Reese glances over, her breath catching the faintest touch of light. “Feels good to be here.”

Maren nods. “Yeah, it does.”

“How is the fall season shaping up?” Reese asks.

“You know, the usual. We have a group of new swimmers who all want to be older swimmers, and the older swimmers all want to go back to their first season when there was a lot more goofing off,” Maren replies.

“Everyone except Rowan.” Reese looks out at the lake and shakes her head slowly. “That kid thinks she is Olympic ready in her second season.”

“You aren’t wrong.” A bright smile spreads across Maren’s face. “One of the high school helpers told me the other day that she has the most aggressive dolphin kicks he has ever seen.”

“That sounds right. Go big or go home.” Reese huffs a quiet laugh. “I really didn’t know what to do when she came in so excited about swimming instead of diving. I’m glad I let her take the lead. She is really coming into her own.”

“I am too. That kid makes everything a little brighter.”

Reese pauses, then turns to look fully at Maren. “You know she likes you. More than likes you. She trusts you.”

Maren’s heart melts in a way that feels almost visible. Light blooms behind her eyes, as if that is the most important thing she has ever heard.

Maren looks back toward the water, trying to steady the sudden warmth rising in her. The lake shifts in its slow winter rhythm, small waves brushing the forming ice line. Her breath hangs in front of her. Reese’s does too. For a moment they match without meaning to.

Reese nudges her boot against Maren’s. Not much. Just enough to be felt.

“You’re good with her,” Reese says quietly. “With all of them, really.”

Maren keeps her eyes on the horizon. “I try.”

“I know.” Reese’s voice softens. “That’s why she trusts you.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It’s something else. Something steady. Something that feels like it has meaning now.

Reese shifts a little closer, their shoulders touching more fully than before. “Can I ask you something?”

Maren turns to her, waiting.

Reese holds her gaze, the early light catching in her eyes. “Do you ever think about where this is going?”

Maren’s breath catches just a little. Not from surprise, exactly. More like recognition. Like she has felt this question humming under the surface for weeks and now they are finally saying the words out loud. Making it real.

She turns her gaze back to the water. The horizon is a soft blur of gold and grey, the sun teetering on the edge of officially rising.

“I think about it,” she says softly. “Probably more than I should admit.”

Reese waits, patient in that way she gets when something matters. Her knee presses lightly against Maren’s. Her mittened hands rest around her cup, fingers curled for warmth.

Maren swallows, feeling the truth move up through her the way cold does, gradually and unmistakably. “I think about it… about what it looks like if we both stayed right here. What would that even look like?”

The word ghosts in the air between them. “Yeah. Me too. Staying.”

They sit for a long moment, the silence settling around them like a blanket. It does not feel sharp or frightening. It feels calm. It feels right.

Reese shifts lightly, turning her body toward Maren. “I never really knew it could feel like this,” she admits. “Simple. Easy. I honestly thought everything in my life had to be complicated if it was going to count.”

Maren’s lips tilt into a small smile. “I don’t know, this.” She gestures between them. “Just kind of feels like home, I think.”

They both watch the horizon again, the soft glow brightening, inch by inch. The moment stretches in front of them as smooth as the water. Not defined. Not labeled. Just chosen.